#my point is: outside of one page incomic that can be at any point made noncanon or recontextualized theres no evidence that it cant be him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

firstdegreefangirl · 3 months

Text

January 2024 Reading Wrap-Up!

New year, same love of books, slightly different structure for things around here. I'm keeping the monthly tracker and the mini-reviews, but skipping the prompt-based challenges because I couldn't find any that looked like they'd suit my reading tastes.

Instead, I've invented a game of my own, to focus on reading down the hundreds of books I already own: Bookcase Roulette! The rules are simple: three bookcases, five shelves each, roughly 25 books per shelf. I'm using random number generators to pick at least two books a month, and reading whatever the bookcase gods pick for me. So those will be marked in the reviews, along with whether or not I enjoyed the book enough to justify keeping it.

Beyond that, you know the drill. Monthly stats incoming, reviews under the cut!

Total books read: 5

Total pages read: 1,722

Days read: 31/31

Average star rating: 4.2

Bookcase Roulette Books: 2

Turtles All The Way Down by John Green ⭐⭐⭐⭐(½) I knocked this out in a day, on New Year’s Day, much to either the astonishment or frustration of housekeeping bestie ((I was reading at work most of the day, then a few hours later we saw each other outside of work and I mentioned that I’d finished the book. I ... don’t think he believed me?)) It was the first round of Bookcase Roulette for 2024, but something like 2/3 of the way through, I realized that I’ve read it before. It’s great, I loved it, but it wasn’t familiar, until I turned the page and was face-to-face with a scene I remembered so clearly. So I have no memory of the first read, but I’m completely positive that there was one at some point.

That said, all of that is about me and my experience, and none of it is about the book. John Green’s books are always so captivating to me, and this was no exception. The MC’s OCD and anxiety are so intensely palpable; I could feel myself stressing out with her as much as I wanted to give her a big hug. This is a book you should check in with yourself before reading; I maybe should have kept a closer eye on my own illness anxiety as I read along, but sometimes I live on the edge?

Never Wager With a Wallflower by Virginia Heath ⭐⭐⭐(¼) Here’s the thing: historical romance isn’t usually for me. But, as happened so often last year, it was in my library experience bag and I was curious. It wasn’t bad, by any means, but all of the things that usually pull me away from the genre were true here too. As for the story itself, and the characters, I loved most of that. Parts of it were laugh out loud funny, parts made my heart ache for the characters and everything they’d been through. The characters were compelling, and I wanted to be rooting for them. I did deduct a full star for the phrase “wedding vegetables,” which has haunted me every day since I first saw it, as it completely pulled me out of the story and ruined my experience of what was otherwise an excellent scene. If you like historical romance, you’ll probably like this, but I'm in no way compelled to read it again or to finish the series.

Play With Me by Claire Wilder ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ If you’ve been here for a while, you know this series has read me through three different trips now (Denver, Houston, and now Orlando). They’re consistently knock-outs for me, but this was far and above better than the rest. I’d been SO excited to read Jude’s story, and Nora felt so relatable for me. Claire Wilder does such an incredible job balancing the romance stories with Eleanor Cleary’s murder, and that really ramped up in this book. The mysterious intrigue blended so well with the friends-to-lovers romance, and Cap is just the best little dude. I laughed out loud on an airplane, I cried in a botanical garden (because of the book; not just because the flowers were so pretty), but there’s not much I can else I can say without breaking down the full context of the entire series (which, trust me, I am HAPPY to do, if anyone is interested. That’s just ... not this).

Mess With Me by Claire Wilder ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ... And I finished out that Florida trip with the next/sort of last book in the Quince Valley series (there’s a future-set shorter story after this, but this was the last of the Kelly siblings). Griffin, the elusive “only shows up when he absolutely must” sibling, got his love story! I was really looking forward to this one because it felt like no one knows anything about Griff, and I was so eager to find out what/why. Especially after the truth he half-dropped on Jude in Play With Me, I knew this would be a good one. It picked up with the tail end of Eli’s story from Sing For Me, elaborated on Jude/Nora, and touched back with Cass and Chelsea too, so we heard from the whole Kelly clan. AND we got all the backstory on Griffin’s job and the mysterious love he told his brother he’d lost. THEN he fell in love again. Truly, the only down point was Chester, the old man who lives next door. I saw it coming, it served the plot well, I still cried. (Bonus points to the author for already announcing that her NEXT series is going to build off of where this one ended, which took a little bit of the sting away from the end of Quince Valley.)

Six Goodbyes We Never Said by Candace Ganger ⭐⭐⭐(¼) This month’s second round of Bookcase Roulette! As I started reading, I realized it’s by the same author as The Inevitable Collision of Birdie and Bash, which I LOVED when I read it. It also seems to be a companion piece, judging by namedropped characters and events, but I haven’t read B&B recently enough to say 100 percent. The plot was sweet – I like YA books that recognize that young adults can and do experience real-world, life-altering events. This is a book about grief, about young people grieving, about big and heavy topics. Too much YA is after-school clubs and kissing boys in the hallway, and while those stories can be great too, young people are capable of experiencing and comprehending so much more; this is truly a book for anyone who’s ever lost someone, regardless of age. Parts of the plot felt disjointed, especially early in the story, and especially with the voicemails and emails dividing Naima’s sections. I was usually able to figure out where things fit together, but it took more effort than I’d have liked and pulled me out of the story. There were some really powerful moments and quotes, and even though I don’t think I’m keeping it, I’m glad I finally picked this one up.

#katie reads #kr24 #bookblr

0 notes

masonpelt · 1 year

Text

A Blue Check On A Pike Warns Us Not To Give Up The Web

For an audio podcast version of this article: click here The internet, once a hand full of websites, grew rapidly. In July 2008, Google announced it had an index of 1 trillion URLs. Nearly 15 years later, the internet is larger but, in some ways, still a handful of websites.

I frequently lament Meta and Alphabet swallowing the web. In a post about TikTok, an app with over 1 billion monthly active users, itself representing a large site that makes the internet feel small, I complained forums and directories are gone. A kind of gentrification for the web where the cool message board is now on Facebook and independent blogs are concentrated on a few platforms owned by companies that can act out in petty ways.

In most revenue share models, a large platform, Medium, Twitch, YouTube, and so forth, collect payments from ads or subscriptions and split profit with creators forming a not-technically-an-employee-but-still-kind-of-anemployee-with-extra-steps relationship. A relationship where someone may not work for [platform], but [platform] can suspend income or even remove that non-employee-etcetera's work or access to the platform without warning or reason.

Platform Control

I don't think social media is a utility that must be regulated and forced to act with neutrality. Except for actual utilities, housing, and certain banking and adjacent technologies, that sort of regulation would be undesirable.

I don't want Daily Kos prohibited by law from removing Alex Jones from the comment section. I also don't like the world where people work for platforms creating content units with no substantive legal protection. It's bad when companies can be petty and retributive while controlling much of someone's income and reputation.

Here are a few examples of large sites using an employee with extra steps model, acting outside of stated terms or norms. This is not an endorsement of any parties mentioned. It's just that, in my opinion, these companies acted to be punitive, and these are high-profile examples.

Fiverr and VoiceoverPete

Fiverr ban VoiceoverPete for "attempt[ing] to defraud or scam others," at least that's implied as the reason based on a statement from Fiver to Mel Magazine. The crime of VoiceoverPete was recording a meme format, literally one listed by Know Your Meme. The format is a fictional character who "needs your help," followed by a list of needs and a long, clearly satirical request for a credit card number.

youtube

Patreon and Sargon of Akkad

When Patreon banned user Sargon of Akkad, the creator did not actually violate the platform's terms of service. Patreon's terms of service did not at the time they ban Sargon of Akkad, have a policy for hate speech made off the platform. And from Patreon's own statements, it was an interview, unrelated to and never mentioned on Patreon, that caused the ban hammer.

Ninja and Twitch

When internet personality Ninja left Twitch, the company removed his verification badge and started promoting other streamers on his page. Ninja was, at the time, the largest streamer on Twitch, and the press about his leaving for a deal with Microsoft probably drove over-the-top traffic to his page. But at one point, Ninja's Twitch page ended up having porn streamed onto it because Twitch was promoting other streamers indiscriminately.

Twitch was completely in its right to use Ninja's abandoned feed to promote other Twitch streamers' content. But at the time, their behavior was completely outside of the norm for how Twitch handled offline streamers or streamers who left the platform. It was petty and dumb.

Out of Control

I get something out of Twitter, but not money. Unlike most social networks, Twitter doesn't share revenue with creators. Twitter needs creators, or it dies. If they designed the product to make Steven King happy, it would be better for everyone.

Instead, Twitter's been trying to remove old verification badges and failing, pissing off Steven King, pissing off Mark Cuban, banning an account Tweeting about Musk's jet, making the Twitter logo a Doge, cutting API access for most developers, creating a massive memory leak, labeling NPR as state-affiliated media and many more stupid choices.

Today is my seventh day of Twitter limbo. On March 31st, I became Elon Musk's mother for several hours. But the account was put into a type of quarantine. My username replaced by a dot, my photo removed, I cannot log in. But my profile, with the years-old blue check still stands like a head on a pike warning others that Elon Musk has mommy issues.

We Lost Control

From my Twitter purgatory I realized that for much of the last 14 years Twitter replaced bookmarking, and a swath of general notes. I've long searched my Tweets regularly seeking links I've shared or liked. The typos and voice to text errors don't make me look contemplative, but being able to find a link to an interesting story about AI from a few years ago is nice.

Before Twitter people used to microblog. Clipping to the CMS is a sort of joke in online media circles now, but it's something everyone once did. Find something you loved and wanting to bookmark and amplify, people would copy the title, and lede, add a paragraph of thoughts and click publish.

Some people would, maybe, see the post from an RSS reader. If no one saw it, well Google still used (and uses) links as a ranking factor, so value was added to the original publisher. It's not so different from an account with only a few followers sharing a story.

Twitter took over the microblogging slot. A handful of news aggregators and social sites now poorly substitute RSS. Social media generally replaced comment sections. A few large platforms are the home of many independent bloggers. We gave up control of the web.

I Want Control

Twitter is not an open system but an open-facing system. The same is true for many social and blogging sites. For example, Substack, a platform I use, makes the user's ownership of the content center to the marketing messaging.

On Substack, I cannot add URL redirects or canonicalize syndicated content. Users may own what they create. But Substack is very much trying to frame itself as the home of that content. And making it hard to leave in a way that doesn't improve the product. I acknowledge these restrictions may help prevent spam, but they aren't open.

I will add a microblog for resharing links to my site in the coming days. I could use Pocket or Flipboard, but I'm tired of giving control to platforms that give the illusion of openness.

The Verge, added a microblog feed last year. The Verge is a massive media company, it pays those who create for it, as employees, not some weird not-technically-an-employee deal. More websites should add microblogs.

The moral warning of the blue check on a pike is stop giving up control of your data, your content, and your income without understanding the deal you're making. We need an open web, not digital land grabbing.

0 notes

duckprintspress · 3 years

Text

Ten Things We Hate About Trad Pub

Often when I say “I’ve started a small press; we publish the works of those who have trouble breaking into traditional publishing!” what people seem to hear is “me and a bunch of sad saps couldn’t sell our books in the Real World so we’ve made our own place with lower standards.” For those with minimal understanding of traditional publishing (trad pub), this reaction is perhaps understandable? But, truly, there are many things to hate about traditional publishing (and, don’t get me wrong - there are things to love about trad pub, too, but that’s not what this list is about) and it’s entirely reasonable for even highly accomplished authors to have no interest in running the gauntlet of genre restrictions, editorial control, hazing, long waits, and more, that make trad pub at best, um, challenging, and at worst, utterly inaccessible to many authors - even excellent ones.

Written in collaboration with @jhoomwrites, with input from @ramblingandpie, here is a list of ten things that we at Duck Prints Press detest about trad pub, why we hate it, and why/how we think things should be different!

(Needless to say, part of why we created Duck Prints Press was to...not do any of these things... so if you’re a writer looking for a publishing home, and you hate these things, too, and want to write with a Press that doesn’t do them...maybe come say hi?)

1. Work lengths dictated by genre and/or author experience.

Romance novels can’t be longer than 90,000 words or they won’t sell! New authors shouldn’t try to market a novel longer than 100,000 words!

A good story is a good story is a good story. Longer genre works give authors the chance to explore their themes and develop their plots. How often an author has been published shouldn’t put a cap on the length of their work.

2. Editors assert control of story events...except when they don’t.

If you don’t change this plot point, the book won’t market well. Oh, you’re a ten-time bestseller? Write whatever you want, even if it doesn’t make sense we know people will buy it.

Sometimes, a beta or an editor will point out that an aspect of a story doesn’t work - because it’s nonsensical, illogical, Deus ex Machina, etc. - and in those cases it’s of course reasonable for an editor to say, “This doesn’t work and we recommend changing it, for these reasons…” However, when that list of reasons begins and ends with, “...because it won’t sell…” that’s a problem, especially because this is so often applied as a double standard. We’ve all read bestsellers with major plot issues, but those authors get a “bye” because editors don’t want to exert to heavy a hand and risk a proven seller, but with a new, less experienced, or worse-selling author, the gloves come off (even though evidence suggests time and again that publishers’ ability to predict what will sell well is at best low and at worst nonexistent.)

3. A billion rejection letters as a required rite of passage (especially when the letters aren't helpful in pinpointing why a work has been rejected or how the author can improve).

Well, my first book was rejected by a hundred Presses before it was accepted! How many rejection letters did you get before you got a bite? What, only one or two? Oh…

How often one succeeds or fails to get published shouldn’t be treated as a form of hazing, and we all know that how often someone gets rejected or accepted has essentially no bearing on how good a writer they are. Plenty of schlock goes out into the world after being accepted on the first or second try...and so does plenty of good stuff! Likewise, plenty of schlock will get rejected 100 times but due to persistence, luck, circumstances, whatever, finally find a home, and plenty of good stuff will also get rejected 100 times before being publishing. Rejections (or lack there of) as a point of pride or as a means of judging others needs to die as a rite of passage among authors.

4. Query letters, for so many reasons.

Summarize all your hard work in a single page! Tell us who you’re like as an author and what books your story is like, so we can gauge how well it’ll sell based on two sentences about it! Format it exactly the way we say or we won’t even consider you!

For publishers, agents, and editors who have slush piles as tall as Mount Everest...we get it. There has to be a way to differentiate. We don’t blame you. Every creative writing class, NaNoWriMo pep talk, and college lit department combine to send out hundreds of thousands of people who think all they need to do to become the next Ernest Hemingway is string a sentence together. There has to be some way to sort through that pile...but God, can’t there be a better way than query letters? Especially since even with query letters being used it often takes months or years to hear back, and...

5. "Simultaneous submissions prohibited.”

No, we don’t know when we’ll get to your query, but we’ll throw it out instantly if you have the audacity to shop around while you wait for us.

The combination of “no simultaneous submissions” with the query letter bottleneck makes success slow and arduous. It disadvantages everyone who aims to write full-time but doesn’t have another income source (their own, or a parents’, or a spouse’s, or, or or). The result is that entire classes of people are edged out of publishing solely because the process, especially for writers early in their career, moves so glacially that people have to earn a living while they wait, and it’s so hard to, for example, work two jobs and raise a family and also somehow find the time to write. Especially considering that the standard advice for dealing with “no simultaneous submissions” is “just write something else while you wait!” ...the whole system screams privilege.

6. Genres are boxes that must be fit into and adhered to.

Your protagonist is 18? Then obviously your book is Young Adult. It doesn’t matter how smutty your book is, erotica books must have sex within the first three chapters, ideally in the first chapter. Sorry, we’re a fantasy publisher, if you have a technological element you don’t belong here…

While some genre boxes have been becoming more like mesh cages of late, with some flow of content allowed in and out, many remain stiff prisons that constrict the kinds of stories people can tell. Even basic cross-genre works often struggle to find a place, and there’s no reason for it beyond “if we can’t pigeon-hole a story, it’s harder to sell.” This edges out many innovative, creative works. It also disadvantages people who aren’t as familiar with genre rules. And don’t get me wrong - this isn’t an argument that, for example, the romance genre would be improved by opening up to stories that don’t have “happily ever afters.” Instead, it’s pointing out - there should also be a home for, say, a space opera with a side romance, an erotica scene, and a happily-for-now ending. Occasionally, works breakthrough, but for the most part stories that don’t conform never see the light of day (or, they do, but only after Point 2 - trad pub editors insist that the elements most “outside” the box be removed or revised).

7. The lines between romance and erotica are arbitrary, random, and hetero- and cis-normative.

This modern romance novel won’t sell if it doesn’t have an explicit sex scene, but God forbid you call a penis a penis. Oh, no, this is far too explicit, even though the book only has one mlm sex scene, this is erotica.

The difference between “romance” and “erotica” might not matter so much if not for the stigmas attached to erotica and the huge difference in marketability and audience. The difference between “romance” and “erotica” also might not matter so much if not for the fact that, so often, even incredibly raunchy stories that feature cis straight male/cis straight female sex scenes are shelved as romance, but the moment the sex is between people of the same gender, and/or a trans or genderqueer person is involved, and/or the relationship is polyamorous, and/or the characters involved are literally anything other than a cis straight male pleasuring a cis straight female in a “standard” way (cunnilingus welcome, pegging need not apply)...then the story is erotica. Two identical stories will get assigned different genres based on who the people having sex are, and also based on the “skill” of the author to use ludicrous euphemisms (instead of just...calling body parts what they’re called…), and it’s insane. Non-con can be a “romance” novel, even if it’s graphically described. “50 Shades of Gray” can sell millions of copies, even containing BDSM. But the word “vagina” gets used once...bam, erotica. (Seriously, the only standard that should matter is the Envelope Analogy).

8. Authors are expected to do a lot of their own legwork (eg advertising) but then don't reap the benefits.

Okay, so, you’re going to get an advance of $2,500 on this, your first novel, and a royalty rate of 5% if and only if your advance sells out...so you’d better get out there and market! Wait, what do you mean you don’t have a following? Guess you’re never selling out your advance…

Trad pub can generally be relied on to do some marketing - so this item is perhaps better seen as an indictment of more mid-sized Presses - but, basically, if an author has to do the majority of the work themselves, then why aren’t they getting paid more? What’s the actual benefit to going the large press/trad pub route if it’s not going to get the book into more hands? It’s especially strange that this continues to be a major issue when self-publishing (which also requires doing one’s own marketing) garners 60%+ royalty rates. Yes, the author doesn’t get an advance, and they don’t get the cache of ~well I was published by…~, but considering some Presses require parts of advances to get paid back if the initial run doesn’t sell out, and cache doesn’t put food on the table...pay models have really, really got to change.

9. Fanfiction writing doesn't count as writing experience

Hey there Basic White Dude, we see you’ve graduated summa cum laude from A Big Fancy Expensive School. Of course we’ll set you up to publish your first novel you haven’t actually quite finished writing yet. Oh, Fanperson, you’ve written 15 novels for your favorite fandom in the last 4 years? Get to the back of the line!

Do I really need to explain this? The only way to get better at writing is to write. Placing fanfiction on official trad pub “do not interact” lists is idiotic, especially considering many of the other items on this list. (They know how to engage readers! They have existing followings! They understand genre and tropes!) Being a fanfiction writer should absolutely be a marketable “I am a writer” skill. Nuff said. (To be clear, I’m not saying publishers should publish fanfiction, I’m saying that being a fanfiction writer is relevant and important experience that should be given weight when considering an author’s qualifications, similar to, say, publishing in a university’s quarterly.)

10. Tagging conventions (read: lack thereof).

Oh, did I trigger you? Hahahaha. Good luck with that.

We rate movies so that people can avoid content they don’t like. Same with TV shows and video games. Increasingly, those ratings aren’t just “R - adult audiences,” either; they contain information about the nature of the story elements that have led to the rating (“blood and gore,” “alcohol reference,” “cartoon violence,” “drug reference,” “sexual violence,” “use of tobacco,” and many, many more). So why is it that I can read a book and, without warning, be surprised by incest, rape, graphic violence, explicit language, glorification of drug and alcohol use, and so so much more? That it’s left to readers to look up spoilers to ensure that they’re not exposed to content that could be upsetting or inappropriate for their children or, or, or, is insane. So often, too, authors cling to “but we don’t want to give away our story,” as if video game makes and other media makers do want to give away their stories. This shouldn’t be about author egos or ~originality~ (as if that’s even a thing)...it should be about helping readers make informed purchasing decisions. It’s way, way past time that major market books include content warnings.

Thank you for joining us, this has been our extended rant about how frustrated we are with traditional publishing. Helpful? No. Cathartic? Most definitely yes. 🤣

Have a question about writing? Drop us an ask!

Like what we do and want to support us? You can buy us a ko-fi - or get access to exclusive content by backing us on Patreon!

#duck prints press #original content #writing advice #sort of

165 notes · View notes

soren1830 · 3 years

Text

Why we want the dream smp

I’ve spent the last couple hours listening to pretentious reviews about what makes film things good so now I am going to do the same to the Dream SMP because none of the reviews I watch will ever do it for me. I’m sure at least half of what I said has been said better by other people, but oh well,

Timing.

Covid meant we where stuck inside. Captive audiences for creators of all types to prey on. According to Forbes, streaming jumped at least 12% and internet usage up to 70%

But why watch amateur Minecraft streamers on Youtube and Twitch? My argument is that consumers were both tired and broke. Disney made their own streaming services, Movie released were up in the air. Controversy after controversy hit franchises throwing into question the morality of watching entertainment made by problematic creators.

Not to mention that the audience is largely younger. Children, teens, and young adults flock to the streamers to catch the story. Incidentally, this is the population that has little to no income. Young adults wracked by student dept found themselves in an economy with little to no room for them. Teens are always among the first to loose jobs when the time gets tough. Parents also had less money to splurge on their kids desired streaming services as the recession hit hard. As such, these groups are going to turn to free platforms, primarily Youtube and Twitch.

Minecraft resurgence. After a dip in popularity, Minecraft resurged in popularity following the 10th anniversary and major updates to the game. Youtubers began picking it up again. First out of nostalgia, then out of enjoyment or to farm views as Minecraft once more hit the trending page. With Minecraft surging in popularity, even those barely familiar with the game can find themselves starting to watch the content. I remember fall 2019, bored out of my mind in my dorm room, coming across a Minecraft randomizer UHC on my trending page. At the time, the most I had done with Minecraft is build in creative, but now I was watching hours of gameplay footage.

With Minecraft rising in popularity not too long before the Covid-19 lockdowns, it is not surprising that Youtube’s now larger audience found themselves watching Minecraft. Top creators, such as Dream, Wilbur Soot, and TommyInnit, made their presence clear and as they wandered from project to project, their viewers came with them.

But why do we love the story?

This is going be different from person to person, but largely I view the Dream SMP’s success due to our exhaustion with traditional media. In every story, the viewer is fed a narrative of the creator’s making. With the narrative framework the conclusions to be drawn are limited are the creator cannot spend their time fleshing out everyone and everything without the story becoming aimless. There is no chance of becoming sympathetic to the plight of the orcs in Lord of the Rings. We are never able to see their side or are given the chance to sympathize with them. Why would consider Sauron’s viewpoint? From everything we see, there is no way to understand Sauron, nor any reason to try. (I am ignoring the Silmarillion or other outside text. Most people will only know the movies so that is what I am using here). The viewer is stuck with the point of view of the small, usually protagonist, cast. Occasionally you are able to see what the antagonist are up to, but this is almost always to show how evil the enemy is, or to fuel a redemption arc for a set group of antagonists. There is little to no grey area in this set up. Our good guys can do bad things and the bad guys can do good things, but it is always clear to the viewer who the good people must be. Negative traits are never allowed to dictate the main characters action aside from those couple episodes in which it matters, or in a climax in which they need to fail so they see that they are wrong. Nowadays, everyone is always entirely good or entirely bad. And then we find out one bad thing our ‘good’ people did and they are to be punished by the karmatic hammer of cancelation or by punishment ingrained in the stories plot. It is exhausting.

The Dream SMP turns this philosophy on its head. Instead of having to follow one, or a small group of point of views, nearly ever character on the Dream SMP’s point of view can be directly seen. In fact, it is rarer that a character’s point of view isn’t shown, namely that of Dream. As such, every character becomes a main character in their own right. Regardless of if their creator has an active role in their plot, each has their own justifications for their action’s and inactions that are accessible to the viewer, although not to the other characters. (This is also the story’s biggest detriment as well, but I will touch on that another time.)

So we see everyone’s POV, why is this a big deal?

When starting a movie, book, or TV show, the main or point of view character is what makes or breaks the viewers’ enjoyment. It can be the best story in the world, but if the viewer cannot stand the character they are meant to follow, then the viewer will either stop watching/reading or will continue while hating the story from the get go. The Dream SMP dodges this entirely. Want a more hyper POV? Try TommyInnit! Want a nice dash of humor? Try Techno!

The multiple POV’s also increase audience participation with the story. When a major event occurs, such as the fall of Manburg, the viewer can go back and see what each person what doing at the time. Ensamble blockbusters such as the Avengers try to this by switching between POV characters rapidly during battles, but inevitably the camera always has to move away. Imagine an Infinity War shot entirely from Iron Man’s point of view. And another from entirely Captain America’s point of view. And another from Hawkeye’s. You would have a better grasp on not only what is character is doing, but also why. And in a character driven story like the Dream SMP, the Why is incredibly important.

Having the multiply POV’s allows for events that happen around more ‘minor’ characters, sometimes even showing how being relegated to the sidelines affects them emotionally. I am avoiding spoilers, but Nikki and Jack’s ‘Team Rocket’ arc is a great example as is the set up to the Eggpire. Doing this is extremely hard to justify in traditional media and even harder to accomplish.

With no singular character being the true protagonist, there is no pressure on characters to be wholly good. There is time in the narrative to explore each of their grey morals. The events they live through are allowed to have lingering effect on characters. By having such a loose point of view in a character driven story, events are able to happen more naturally. Even when an outside force comes to affect the story, namely Shlatt and the Egg, their biggest affects are not on the physical world, but in the character’s mental state and relationships.

This grey area and heavily character driven plot makes the story feel much more human. Sure we never had to fight in a revolution, but we have stuck by our friend’s side when they needed us. We will never be asked to assist in an execution, but we have struggled in a social situation where our friends couldn’t intervene. The Egg may be supernatural, but it is all to often that one person will hijack a friend group and try and change the people in it to suit their needs. The Egg is almost akin to an abusive friend or partner. Sure the villain in the Dream SMP look larger than life, but each actual conflict is something human that almost every viewer has seen before, albeit in a less life threatening manner.

#dream smp #dream smp analysis #dream smp meta #meta analysis #my posts

41 notes · View notes

swanhookheart · 3 years

Text

Angry Grishaverse book review time!

After watching and LOVING s1 of Shadow and Bone, I read the trilogy! I was not impressed.

Spoilers incoming for Grishaverse stuff, so if you don’t want those, don’t read on!

Watching Shadow and Bone this past weekend, I was hooked : Darklina, the lore behind the amplifiers, the Aleksander backstory… I was really impressed and hoped that this was it--that at last, I’d found a fantasy series that was going somewhere big, something I could really, thoroughly sink my teeth into.

*Sigh*

Then I read the books.

The reader / viewer enters the Grishaverse associating darkness with pure evil. The Fold, described early on, is shown to be this bleak, awful, ruinous place where people go to be eaten alive by volcra and hope goes to die. We therefore, naturally, associate the Darkling--who possesses the power of shadow--with that evil from the off. I’m speaking as someone who only got into the Grishaverse last Saturday. My initial thoughts were, “oh, he’s being set up to be viewed as dark and scary; this is the expectation Bardugo wants us to have so that we’ll be blown away by some great twist later. Count me in!”

But that twist never came. He was set up as evil, and he stayed evil. Surprise, he’s the Black Heretic! Surprise, he’s an abomination effectively created by Morezova’s greed! Surprise, he’s ruthless and horrible and does cruel things! Except none of those things are actually surprising, given he was SET UP from the beginning to be viewed that way. He did bad things, walked a bad walk, and talked a bad talk. I kept thinking “ah, so he’s gonna get a sweeeet redemption arc,” and then he just never did. That element of the story was predictable to a nauseating degree, and that predictability made the entire universe feel a bit flat. If the reader saw more of his backstory, had more real, logical, sound justification for why he does the things he does (like in the show, where they at least tried to paint his actions as borne of some misplaced sense of servitude / protection for the Grisha or where we saw him actively struggling at points to grapple with the darkness inside him), then maybe the trilogy wouldn’t have been such a letdown. And yes, I know about his sacrifice or whatever later on. It’s not enough.

In villains, I and probably plenty of others like to see humanity. We want to empathize with our villains to a certain extent--to understand them just a little bit--so we can fully commit to hating them when they violate our trust. The Darkling didn’t have that human, redeeming quality, though--at least, not in the books. In the books, he was just a power-hungry jackass who simultaneously didn’t want to be alone and kept trying to kill his only opportunity not to be alone. His single-mindedness, his lack of human empathy, the simplicity with which he pursued this made him seem almost stupid to me as a reader. For someone who’s lived hundreds of years, he’s kind of an idiot when it comes to other people--which, itself, almost seems incongruous with his having lived for so long. If he’d maybe had more backstory or more in his story to justify his actions, maybe he’d feel like a better villain. But atm, all I’m doing is rolling my eyes with him. I couldn’t love him because he didn’t put in any work toward being a better person. Even in the end, he doesn’t actually do the work or repent. But I also can’t hate him because the source material hasn’t given me enough actual human qualities to hate or to feel betrayed. His character just… missed the mark for me.

As did Mal’s. Fucking MAL, oh my GOD! This dude’s literal only personality trait was loving Alina. Cool, he could track--for Alina, mostly. He could fight--for Alina. “I am become a blade”? Sir, you got a whole-ass tattoo announcing that you’re an object in this woman’s service? No WAP is worth that, and I’m speaking as a very bisexual woman. My dude, it’s weird, it’s extra, it’s just too much. I’ll go back to the Darkling for two seconds to say that, ofc, his actions were painted as problematic and misogynistic and gross. But, like, the possessiveness Mal displays with Alina kinda feels on that same level? Why are we pretending he’s better when he actively tries to keep her low, keep her powerless, and keep her his? Again, dude got a tattoo of her sigil. He was fully prepared to be the leader of her guard even if she married Nikolai just for the opportunity for some sexytimes. I know that YA is about really intense emotion, the fire of teenage hormones and stuff, but that all just felt a bit toxic. The way that his entire life revolved around her while she tried to balance the role of saint, hero, orphan, and all the things she was just felt goofy and like a wildly unhealthy dynamic.

Their whole relationship also felt really obvious, as I guess the Darkling being revealed as the trilogy’s big bad did. It was predictable, set up to be that way from the start. There were no surprises. It was Mal, and then it was still Mal, and in the end, it was also Mal. We weren’t really shown any of what made them so drawn to each other, we were just kind of told and expected to be fine with the intensity of it. But it read as being way too much for me, and god, it kept getting worse. Again, this one felt like low-hanging fruit--low effort, lazy writing. Nothing about it actually read to me as romantic, just as too much. They didn’t so much as fall in love as just start out that way, and reading that was somewhere between boring and uncomfortable. At least with the Darkling or hell--even Nikolai--we saw some of that chemistry unfold on the page. We were shown some of what made them work the way they did. There was something underpinning their relationship, and not just “oh, they’re supposed to be together”. I mean, after all JKR’s bullshit, I feel totally fine saying fuck authorial intent. If you can’t even be bothered to actually put your shit on the page, don’t ask me to blindly accept your version canon as gospel truth.

We could have had Deckerstar vibes, Beauty and the Beast vibes, seen light and dark come together and surprise us by actually working well together. But no, we saw a special girl lose everything that made her special and settle for some mediocre fuckboy from her hometown. We get characters that actually have the potential to be dynamic and make for a good story, but she still ends up with this bland, vanilla, trick-ass bitch? It’s a major letdown when you’ve actually been exposed to decent fictional couples, tbh.

OOF! And the ending? Oh jesus fuck, that ending. Darkling just… dies. Just like that. I read three whole books for that? I know he comes back and dies again and all, but the whole trilogy felt like it was building up to something more, something deeper and greater and more profound. He was horrible for the things he did, sure, and he deserved defeat as long as he refused to waver from his power-hungry, destructive path. But his death brought about no closure. He and Alina never actually had the fight they needed to or reached an understanding with each other. Everything is left undone, unsaid, unexplored. The ending just felt super anticlimactic on the page, and so, the trilogy as a whole fell completely short of any mark I hoped it might hit.

Did I hope Darklina would be endgame? Sure. But I’d also have been A-okay with a tragic ending if it had been done right. Did I think it would have been a lot more interesting to see a redemption arc for Darkling than just… more of the same? Or maybe Mal develop a personality outside of Alina? Absolutely. There was so much potential, and it really feels like Bardugo squandered all of it. And for what? This was nearly as disappointing as the eighth season of Game of Thrones. I probably won’t be watching future seasons if they follow the books, but I guess I’m glad for the day or so of fleeting pleasure I got when I still had hope for a properly told story.

#Shadow and bone #anti-mal #darklina #shadow and bone spoilers #grishaverse

85 notes · View notes

btsandvmin · 3 years

Text

BTSandVMIN update: On “Spring Day analysis”, making videos and creating a Patreon

There are a few things I would like to talk to you all about, and things I have been thinking about for a while. I thought it was time to give you all a bit of an update on the things I am doing, want to do and how I might have to do them.

Ok, so first of all, as you know I have been working on the Spring Day analysis for quite some time now. In fact I have been working on it for so long it has long since stopped being just about Spring Day. Rather than being about Spring Day and Vmin it has become a collection post where I go through many similarities in Vmin’s (in particular Taehyung’s) songs and discuss themes and topics with Spring Day simply as the main foundation of inspiration.

The text kept getting longer and currently it is around 24 000 words long + images (130+ pages in google docs). I honestly don’t think Tumblr will be able to handle it. I have been thinking about what to do with longer posts for a while, especially after the Vmin analysis - 4 o’clock which didn’t show up in the tag, loaded very slowly, took a long time to re-make in tumblr format and also didn’t get that many notes. You all know I have struggled and complained about longer posts here on tumblr many times. Thus I have wondered what to do if I want to keep making them in a way that works. In particular even longer pieces like this “Spring Day analysis” or my even longer “Big Vmin analysis”, which might be very difficult to make here on tumblr in a way that you can all read properly. (Several of you have even told me about your app crashing when trying to read some of my posts and honestly Tumblr just isn’t made for very longs posts with many images.)

After looking into it a bit I decided to make a Patreon just to try, and I could literally copypaste the whole post with images and all in just a few seconds. (WHY IS IT SO HARD TUMBLR?)

Another reason I finally decided to make a Patreon is so that I could create a small community space for me and you; a discord. Through Patreon you get access and I can talk to you guys more freely, and you can also simply use the discord as your own place to enjoy and discuss BTS and Vmin with other Vminies that join my Patreon. I thought this seemed like a fun idea since I can’t properly talk to you all in more conversational ways here (even less so since this is a side-blog), and by having it through Patreon it also limits the discussions from possible toxic outsiders. Basically a safe space away from the haters and antis.

There were also the reactions I got after making my first Vmin video. I talked about that a lot, in many posts:

A personal dilemma What kind of power to influence shippers into becoming delusional do I really have? I don’t know what to do… Making videos…

The concerns I got about me making Vmin videos made me question what to do, and if I should stop making analysis all together if people really worried about what it might lead to. I want to do more good than bad, for the community and for BTS. I am hoping having this space and the discord might make it feel easier for me to keep doing this more comfortably.

I also got some really really sweet messages from so many of you that honestly warmed my heart so much. I mean, there is little I can say to truly let you know what those messages mean to me. Just as one example:

Thank you, to every single one of you for not only sending me love but also understanding and respecting my worries. It means more to me than you will ever know. 💜

The thing is that I don’t want to stop. I still very much enjoy writing and gushing about Vmin, and I also really kind of want to try making videos. So back when this all happened a few of you suggested Patreon, as a way to limit who sees my videos. And after thinking about it I decided to make one, for several reasons.

It might help me to have longer analysis. It keeps away unwanted attention and hate. I can moderate more and have better control. We can talk with each other more freely. I can post things I feel a bit unsure about sharing to the general audience. I could do videos without worrying too much. (And it might also help me with an extra income?)

Don’t get me wrong, I won’t stop posting things here for free, but I think I will post longer posts and perhaps more “analysing” types of videos if I ever get to that point on Patreon. Likely I will post shorter versions that Tumblr can handle, or divide posts into parts here, but keep longer versions intact on Patreon. So the idea is not to stop doing things here but rather to add some other things and extra stuff on Patreon (basically some bonus material, maybe some behind the scenes, sneak peaks and polls).

Right now my Patreon only has one tier “I purple you”, but if things go well the plan is to create a second tier if I ever decide to make videos more frequently and perhaps add some bonus material like Q&A videos where you can ask questions and I talk about them. (I am not sure yet, I don’t even know if videos is something that people will like.)

I’ve set the price at 15 SEK, which is a bit less than 2 US dollars/month. I don’t know what I might do further ahead, but for now basically it will mostly be some bonus stuff, a way to read longer texts in full (because I will have to divide it into parts here on Tumblr) and a community platform (and of course also a way to support me).

I hope you will check it out and join me! I am especially excited about the discord and getting to talk to you all in a new more casual way!

https://www.patreon.com/btsandvmin

Right now I have the Spring Day analysis posted (I will post it here too, but I need to figure out how to divide it in parts in a good way.) and I also have 2 chapters of my Vmin fanfiction “The last color is our spring”. (Seriously, I suck at naming fics, it’s honestly one of the hardest parts.) Again, I do plan to post some updates, and basically “first edits” of posts or things I feel a bit unsure about talking about here (like more analytical videos), but for now mostly it’s a way to support me and join the discord so we can share our love for Vmin together. 💜

Also, even if you don’t join I will still appriciate you all and the love you give me here. Seriously, this is mostly meant for you, and only if you want it and like it will there be any point to have it. I feel it is worth giving it a try.

Become a Patron!

#btsandvmin #btsandvmin update #vmin analysis #this blog #my post

31 notes · View notes

mercurysstars · 3 years

Text

The Shadow Thief (part 3)

Summary: What happens when Peter has to work with the girl he hates to possibly save the world.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, Blood, Violence.

A/n: Sorry it took me so long to post again! I’ve wrote like 3 different versions of this chapter because I didn’t know what direction to go in just yet.

"Woah, dude. Did you see this?" Y/n held out Peter's phone shoving it in his face.

Y/n had gone over to Peters house early that morning to get the last finishing touches on their project done. So they both reluctantly decided to walk together to school.

Peter snatched his phone out of Y/n's hands as they crossed the street. "How did you even get my phone? It was in my hands." She shrugged and pointed back at the article.

Peter scrolled down the page. Incoming reports say Avengers went on a mission and since gone MIA. How didn't he know about this? And why didn't the Avengers at least tell him they were going to be gone. Peter was confused, to say the least. Were they in trouble? No, they couldn't be they are the earth's mightiest heroes. Right?

"They probably just had to extend their mission and forgot to report back in." Or at least he hoped. He didn't want to think of the latter. He decided after school he would go to the compound and make sure everything was alright.

"If you say so." They walked up the stairs to the second floor of the school. Peter opened the door and they both walked into English. Y/n took her seat next to Mj and Peter next to Ned.

The thought of the Avengers missing did worry Y/n a bit. She wasn't a big fan of superheroes but she also was not, not a fan. It was complicated. Sure she liked the security of having someone to save the day. But she hated that they pretended to be better than everyone else. They judge criminals as they themselves have never done anything wrong. They tend to blame everything on everyone else and never take responsibility.

Y/n felt a nudge to her arm. She turned her head to face Mj. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"No, no it's alright I'm just thinking," Y/n said. She pulled out her laptop and opened her and Peter's presentation to have it ready just in case they had to go first.

Their opening slide was a picture of Anne Frank surrounded by a pretty border and Anne Frank’s name in cursive in the middle. Peter insisted their project had to look nice and not like some shitty last-minute one like she had originally done. Y/n had teased Peter relentlessly about it saying maybe he should be a graphic designer instead of Spider-Man. And he of course huffed and pretended to ignore her.

"Well, you just looked worried. Anyways tell me if you need any help." Y/n gave Mj a grateful smile. Y/n knew Mj could have this cold, hard exterior but she knew she secretly cared.

The bell rang signaling the first period started. The teacher stood up from her desk and walked to the front of the room clasping her hands together. "Good morning class. Today is the first official day for our presentations. We'll be picking who goes first by random. Any questions?"

One girl toward the front of the classroom stuck up her hand "Yes, Betty."

"Did you see the news? About the avengers?" The class erupted within hushed conversation everyone stating their theories of what happened and their worries.

"Alright, class settle down. I did see but we will continue like normal." She said. It kind of seemed like to Y/n she didn't care at all but she didn't really think anything of it.

The phone rang and the teacher quickly excused herself. Y/n picked at her fingers mindlessly. The teacher muttered a few words into the phone and hung up "Y/n, Peter." Her eyes snapped up at the sound of her name "They want you down in the office. And bring your things."

Y/n furrowed her brows. Her eyes met Peters "What did you do?" He mouthed just as confused as her.

What did she do? What the hell did he do. She hasn't done anything wrong. Well, at least nothing she gotten caught for. "Dude if anyone did anything it was you! I've only been here for like 3 weeks." She whispered-yelled back.

He put his hands up defensively. Y/n shoved all of her things in her bag and zipped it up. Mj raised an eyebrow at her and Y/n just shrugged with a clueless look on her face.

Y/n walked over to the door opening it with her free hand while her chrome book was in the other. Peter followed not too far behind. They step out and began to walk down the hallway shoulder to shoulder not a word muttered between them.

The hall was empty. No teacher, no janitor, no late students, not even the common lost freshman. It was strange to Y/n. She turned to Peter "This is weird. It's almost like it's too."

"Quiet." He finished for her. Peter felt off. His spidey sense wasn't alarming him with anything but it was almost like a gut feeling you'd get when some strange guy came up to you at a party being a little too friendly.

"Yeah." Exactly. They continued down the hall both on high alert. When they passed a window Y/n could see two men dressed in suits around the corner through the reflection.

"I think they're following us." She whispered to Peter. Y/n has picked up a thing or two of trying not to be noticed but the men behind them didn't seem like they cared much for subtlety. They had their eyes set on Y/n and Peter taking wide quick steps.

This time his spidey sense went off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Peter reached for his web-shooters "We need to get out of here."

"You think?" Y/n back said in an aggravated tone. The next time they passed by a window she could see them screw something together slowly by their side.

Y/n glanced down to get a better look, it was a gun. All she could hear was the beating of her heart thumping loudly in her ears. Thinking quickly Y/n shoved Peter into a locker. A bullet whizzed past where his head once was and made a tiny thump when it hit the wall.

His eyes went wide momentarily stunned before he sprung into action. He shot out a web, grabbed the gun out of the man's hand, and flung it across the hall, making sure he couldn't get to it.

The men paused for a minute before muttering something to each other end breaking into a spring toward them. Well mostly at Peter luckily for her but still in her direction. Peter began to fight the one whose gun he had stolen hand to hand. The man got in a punch to Peter's face. Peter tripped him and tied him up with his webs.

The second man was coming toward her. Before she could second guess herself Y/n took her chrome book and slapped the man across the face with it. The man was momentarily shocked and Y/n opened an unlocked locker hitting him in the face. She watched him slide down the lockers unconscious.

More men turned the corner and came down the hallway. Y/n kicked a waist-length garbage can with wheels toward them as a small distraction. Peter grabbed Y/n pulling her into an empty classroom.

Y/n locked the door before she grabbed Peter and dragged him further into the classroom into a supply closet. They both crouched behind a mop bucket leaving the door cracked for a tiny bit of light.

"Would you like to tell me why there's someone outside this classroom trying to blow my brain out!" She huffed.

"Don't ask me. For all, we know they could be after you!" They both flinched as they heard the door handle shake.

"They were attacking you. Shooting at you. And you'd have a bullet in the back of your head if I didn't push you out of the way if I might add." She poked him in the chest.

The men began to start kicking at the door trying to break it down "Maybe if we figure out who they are we can get out of this."

"You know what I have an idea." Y/n reached back and grabbed the gun out of the waistband of her pants. Y/n started not to care much for introductions when they tried to assassinate her. Her motto was to shoot first ask questions later because she was not going down without a fight.

"What the hell Y/n! Where did you even get a gun?" Peter tried to put some distance between them but failed and ended up bumping into a shelf.

"Calm down bug boy I'm not going to shoot you." She rolled her eyes "I grabbed it off the guy while I smashed my laptop over his head."

"You are not shooting anyone!" He exclaimed. He was going to die with a psychopath. A literal psychopath. What would his uncle Ben say if he could see him right now?

"Fine whatever. How many webs do you have left?"

"Only one." He muttered.

"Only one! How the hell do you only have only one web left?" Oh lord. She was going to die in a janitor's closet with an idiot.

"Oh well, I'm sorry I didn't know I would have someone trying to paint the walls with my organs. I must have forgotten to mark it on my calendar!"

"Oh god, Okay." Y/n rubbed her forehead with her free hand.

She took the clip out of her gun and counted the bullets she had. Two. Okay, she could work with that, Somehow. She just had to live long enough to beat Peter up for almost getting them killed.

She turned back to Peter "Alright here's the plan so we are going to jump out of the window and see just how far that web can exactly get us." She could hear the pounds on the door getting more frequent and if she was being honest she was surprised it held this long.

"Are you crazy! You going to get us both killed." He didn't need the answer because he already knew she was. He swore he could see the shadows swirl around her for a moment but as quickly as it was there it was gone.

"Do you have any better ideas because I'm all ears, Parker?" He didn't say anything and just ran a hand through his hair letting out a frustrated sigh.

"That's what I thought." Y/n knew there was a good chance that they get hit by incoming traffic like a bug on a windshield but it was either that or the SWAT team outside.

"Let's get this over with." Said Y/n. They both stepped outside of the closet. The men outside the room gave the door one last kick and it broke off of the hinges. "Go." That was all Peter said.

Y/n shot the window with the two bullets she had. Peter ran over to Y/n and grabbed onto her tightly. They jumped through the window shattering it. Peter shoots out his last web hooking onto a nearby tree. At the peak of the swing, Peter let go of the web. They flew over the traffic narrowly avoiding the cars.

When they finally reached the ground they hit it hard. Peter took most of the impact but Y/n still hit her head. They continued to hold tightly onto each other as they rolled through the grass from the momentum of the swing.

They came to a slow stop and Y/n landed on top of Peter. She slumped off to the side of him and sat up. Peter did the same but with a groan feeling all of the bones in his body.

He noticed blood began to trickle out of Y/n's nose. "You got something." He pointed to her nose.

She wiped under her nostrils with her fingers and then again with the bottom of her shirt without a second thought "Oh, Thanks."

Peter rested his head on his knees. What was he going to do? As much as he didn't like Y/n he felt bad for dragging her into this. "We need to get going they are going to come looking for us soon."

"Where are we going to go?" The light was starting to become too much so Y/n put her hand over her eyes to shield her from the sun. She was starting to get a headache and just wanted to lay down. Peter stood up and dusted off his shirt and pants.

"Avengers compound." He held out a hand to her. She took it and he pulls her up onto her feet. They began to walk toward the street.

"I just don't know how we are going to get there." He added. They made it onto the sidewalk. Y/n was stumbling around so Peter kept his pace slow so she could keep up with him.

Y/n stopped walking "What do you think of this car?" She nodded to a 1997 Honda Accord.

"It's cool I guess." He said confused the car was a little old but he didn't say anything.

"Alright good. Now hand me your web-shooters." She held out her hand toward him.

"Okay?" He didn't really know what she was trying to get at. Peter just assumed she hit her head too hard but he complied anyway.

Y/n crouched down facing the car. She broke his web-shooters over her knee taking out two long curved metal pieces. She handed him back the rest of his broken web-shooters. Peter stared at her wide-eyed as she stuck the two metal pieces into the lock of the car.

"What are you doing." He hissed. Peter walked closer to Y/n trying to cover her as she picked the lock to the car.

"I just gave our problem a solution." She said without looking. She continued to twist the pieces around until she heard a little click. She gave a little cheer and opened the door.

"Yeah by stealing someone's car. Need I remind you is illegal."

" I like to think of it as borrowing. Besides I will happily leave you if you wish." She rolled her eyes. God, her head was throbbing.

Y/n took the plastic cover off of the steering column. There were three sets of wires and she grabbed the middle one. Y/n cut the red and blue wire. She touched the wires together until she heard the car start. She smiled to herself and lastly twisted the wires together.

She turned to Peter "Are you getting in or what?"

Peter looked around and then sighed "Fine, but I'm driving."

"What? No way, you don't even look old enough to drive." She crossed her arms.

"You have a concussion so I'm our best bet at not dying." He gave Y/n a sarcastic smile.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes but got out of the driver's seat.

"You know if you keep rolling your eyes they are going to get stuck like that." She flicked him off and he laughed.

Y/n basically collapsed into the passengers seat. Peter closed his door and started the car. He pulled into the street and Y/n rested her head against the window. The cool glass felt nice against her forehead. She notice a bruise on Peter's pale cheek from when he got hit earlier.

Every now and again he would glance at Y/n to see how she was doing. He figured she must not feel the best because she hasn't said one witty remark since they got into the car.

He hoped by now the Avengers were back at the compound and could Tell them what's going on and who was following them.

He looked over to her again and she had her eyes close. He jabbed her with his elbow "Hey, don't fall sleep. You might not wake back up."

"Hmm Okay." She said but didn't budge.

"I'm serious Y/n, open your eyes." Peter was starting to get worried. It wasn't that he cared about her. But he didn't know what to do with a dead body. Or at least that's what he told himself.

"Don't get your panties into a bunch, my eyes are open."

They pulled into the road of the compound. When it came into view Y/n suddenly sat up wide eyed "Holy shit."

"What?" Peter took his eyes off of Y/n and followed her line of sight.

"What the fu-"

Part 4

Taglist

@fandom-strumpet • @ginger-swag-rapunzel • @libraries-and-coffee

#peter x reader #peter paker #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman #the avengers

48 notes · View notes

whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years

Text

Long Nights - part 4

Neil x Reader

Chapter 4: World gone mad

(see chapter 3, 2, 1)

summary: inverted heist calls for inverted training

warnings: 18+, explicit language, gun mention, crackheadery, and possible whiplash

author’s note: Hi, yes, I know, took me ages, but hey, I hope it's worth the wait! 5.2k words, how even--

Anyway.

The song for this part is Bastille - World Gone Mad

Enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @mellifluous-cosmos @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

The fact that you knew how to handle guns wasn’t equal to you being very good at it. Or enjoying it, for that matter. Sure, you could more or less hit the target, especially with some useful tips you got from Neil regarding a trigger finger discipline, but still - you’d rather avoid reaching for a pistol altogether.

You put back the weapon you’d been training with and Neil handed you another one. You couldn’t really tell the difference, at least until you checked the magazine. The lack of ammo meant you finally got to the fun bit that Neil teased in The Protagonist’s office and you smiled, looking back at your companion. He grinned at you, the gaze sparkling behind yellow-tinted safety glasses as he pointed at the wall next to the targets you used for practice.

“Just aim and pull the trigger. ” Seeing your nod, he added, “Okay now, be careful, it might feel--”

The bullet whizzed back into the chamber of your pistol and your eyes widened.

“Oh fuck me sideways,” you hissed under your breath.

“-- a bit weird, yeah.” Neil chuckled at the shock painted on your face. “All right?”

“Yeah, just processing.” Trying to blink the consternation away, you asked, “How do you make these? You put it into that...turnstile and voilà?”

Neil shook his head. “No, it’s not that simple. We receive a stash every now and then, we don’t know how to manufacture those,” - he smirked - “at least not yet. I do have a few theories I’m working on in my spare time, but...” hesitating for a moment, he raked a hand through his hair and sent you a nervous smile. “Wouldn’t want to bore you to death, though.”

“Dude, come on, with that smooth and soothing voice of yours? You could read the yellow pages to me and I’d still listen like that--” you mocked a dreamy heart-eyes expression, watching with satisfaction as that remark pushed Neil further into a flustered state.

Apparently, when explicit teasing got a little-to-no reaction now, you could still make him blush with a more wholesome compliment. As you started laughing, he rolled his eyes and scrunched the nose slightly, joining you with a stifled giggle. Grinning, you continued a little softer, “I’m not gonna lie - I probably wouldn’t understand a majority of the physics jargon, but I’d still want to hear all about that.”

A thankful look you got in return made your chest clench painfully, and your mind wandered off to those breaks near the river, and Neil’s animated rants. You knew one thing. Anyone who had ever ridiculed him for his passion for even the nerdiest things could rot in hell, and you’d gladly see to it personally.

A disgruntled huff coming from behind made you both snap out of the moment.

“Oi, lovebirds, I’d appreciate it if you could leave all that to after I prep you for the mission.”

Bottling down your annoyance, you batted your lashes at the commander, who’d just come back with keys to one of the conference rooms near the range.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, you have my full attention now.”

Ives nodded, waving at you to follow him. Meanwhile, Neil’s small smirk let you know that he noticed that faint undertone in your voice, but he said nothing, patiently waiting for the events to unfold.

Another person was waiting for you at the door. You recognized the woman who’d driven you to that abandoned factory on your very first day - you’d never gotten properly introduced, but you remember asking Neil about her once and he called her Wheeler. To be honest, with these guys you never knew if they used their real names, nicknames, codenames, or whatever. Not that you cared, quite used to it in your own line of business. You exchanged a court nod with her and went into the room.

As you sat down at the big table and Ives booted a projector, your eyes bore into the man. Definitely one of those types who enjoyed his beret and the paramilitary structure of the field branch of the organization. Probably a bit too much. You bit back a smug grin.

Those were particularly fun to mess with.

Ives caught your piercing stare and stopped the brief of the location.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you said, propping the chin on your palm, a polite smile on your lips. “It’s fascinating.”

He furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“What is?”

“How your commanding presence literally adds you inches,” you said, using all your willpower to keep a serious face. “I wonder if it works only for your height or--”

Neil’d futile attempts at masking an amused snort with a cough didn’t go unnoticed. Ives shot him daggers and then glared at you. “For fuck’s sake, would you focus?”

Your eyes flared up at the threat in his voice and you pouted, taunting him further.

“Or what, you’re gonna spank me?”

“No, I’m gonna shoot you,” he deadpanned.

You raised a brow.

“Kinky.”

Ives groaned, turning to Neil.

“How you survived this long without choking her is beyond me.”

Neil puffed his cheeks and gestured vaguely, but as he opened the mouth to answer, you chimed in, with a shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, he very much did so, all right.”

The awkward silence that followed was pretty satisfying.

“Can we keep her?” asked Wheeler casually, leaned back in her chair, fiddling with a bullpen.

Ives gaped at you all, then slumped his shoulders in defeat, sliding a hand through his features. He was so done you could almost hear The Sound of Silence playing in the distance, but apparently, his sense of duty was stronger than the urge to leave you without finishing the briefing, so he just drew a deep breath and continued.

“...anyway…”

You caught Neil’s glance and you couldn’t help but poke the tip of your tongue out at him. The mischievous sparks in his eyes reflected your own as he shook his head, tugging the bottom lip between the teeth. Wheeler’s curious gaze flitted between you two, and as you didn’t feel like drawing too much unnecessary attention to yourself anymore, you focused on the plan that Ives was persistently going through.

Time frames. Blueprints. Entry points. Exit routes (you spotted at least one additional way he left out, but you weren’t sure if you could drag Neil through there, judging by that alley performance, so you didn’t bother to mention it out loud). Everything seemed clear enough. You still had no idea how being inverted would affect the lockpicking, but when you voiced that, Ives promised you some time to figure it out before the mission.

The mission. Huh. It wasn’t that much different from your usual assignments - at least if you forgot about that tiny insignificant detail like moving backwards in time - but something in this paramilitary and/or espionage vibe made your heart beat faster with excitement.

It had been quite a long time since you had company at the job. Working alone had its perks, but you wouldn’t mind a trusted partner in crime having your six for a change.

Another thing that you certainly wouldn’t mind - seeing Neil in tactical gear. Not that either of you would need one, but the image got planted in your head and suddenly you wished you’d had a bottle of water.

You realized that everyone was looking at you expectantly. Shit, was there a question or…?

“I’m good,” you said, shooting in the dark, hoping that would be enough to cover your distracted ass.

Ives squinted, but fortunately, that was an acceptable answer.

“Well, as you two can proceed straight from here - Wheeler, they’re all yours.’

“Okay,” - she smiled and stood up - “we don’t have any turnstiles on-site, but there’s one in the base outside the city, I’ll talk you through the basics on the way.”

So that little daydream cost you a chance to come back home to prepare? Grand. The problem was - you needed your heavy-duty tools, but you’d rather eat rocks than back away in front of Ives. Luckily, he called on Neil to wait for a moment, so that was your chance.

“Umm, Wheeler?” you asked quietly, following her outside.

She glanced at you curiously.

“What’s up?”

“I know I said I’m good, but could we stop by my apartment for a second, please?” An awkward grimace ran through your face. “I gotta pick up my tools. You know, just in case.”

She wasn’t surprised by your request. Moreover, she sent you a knowing smile.

“Sure thing,” she said and winked, and then it was your turn to present a slightly flushed face. “I’ve got you.”

----

You didn’t know what to expect from the whole inversion process.

The first time your brain stuttered was when Wheeler pointed at something she called the proving window, just in time for you to see the three of you coming out on the other side. You caught inverted-you glancing back at your present self; the schooled expression, but with the gaze shining with anticipation.

The second time was when it was you on the other side, looking at your wide-eyed past self. Feeling the incoming headache, you took a deep breath and followed Wheeler and Neil to the stand with oxygen masks.

“How are you feeling?” asked Neil, handing you the equipment.

“Weirdly normal.” You shrugged. “Or maybe not more backwards than usual, if that makes any sense.”

He smiled lightly.

“It’s the airlock. When you see the outside, you’ll get a whole new perspective.”

Wheeler nodded. “What he said. And to recap: you’re inverted, the world is not - all forces will be pushing back on you. Besides gravity.” She double-checked the oxygen bottle secured to your belt. “Just mind things that might be rising instead of falling.”

You furrowed the brows.

“Wait, didn’t Ives mention the rain?”

Neil smirked from behind the mask.

“Afraid of getting wet?”

“Never.” You grinned, meeting the sparkling blue eyes. “Should know that by now.”

Wheeler snorted and shook her head, walking to the panel near the exit.

“You’ll have plenty of time to finish the job before you move far enough to catch up on that. Although, if you ever find yourself in the inverted rain, here’s a tip: pop your collar.”

“Why would you--” Oh. The sole thought of the water going up from the ground to the sky made you nauseous. You swallowed with effort, leveling your breath in the mask. “...right.”

Wheeler opened the door and you almost gasped at the view. The golden rays of sunset (...or was it technically a sunrise now?) flickered on the training grounds’ equipment as the sky painted the scarce pools of muddy water with greyish violets and reddening oranges. Leaves shuffled in the wind, their dance almost satirical with that inverted spin.

Wheeler’s voice stopped your mind from wandering further into the landscape.

“Okay, ready? Ives asked me to remind you not to try any cowboy shit, you need to be in one piece at the end of the training.”

“Yes ma’am,” you mocked a salute and stepped outside, stretching your limbs, readjusting to the reality being slightly off. Neil stood right beside you watching you warming up, ready to take you to the obstacles section.

But as soon as the airlock’s doors closed behind you, you spun around, tapping his shoulder - “Tag, you’re it!” - and without waiting for his reaction, you leaped towards the assault course.

Surely that turned out overly optimistic. You counted on the element of surprise and a head start, but Neil had an experience with running while being inverted, while you… well. You tried.

“B+ for effort,” laughed Neil, catching up on you even before you reached the first obstacle and tapping you back. “But you can do better than that.”

“Just you wait!” you retorted and vaulted over a low hurdle, the mild confusion caused by the dumbfounded senses slowly eased up as you tuned out the brain and let the muscle memory guide your movements. Because hey, in the end? Yes, the natural forces were acting up against you. Yes, Neil had years of inverted training behind him. But you’d been challenging different obstacles your whole life, and courses like this one were your favourite playgrounds.

You caught on him by the next wall, playing dirty and tugging at his leg, pulling him down before he could jump to the other side. The exasperated huff he gave you in protest got lost in the squelch of mud under your feet, the sound more like a suction instead of the much-expected splash. Shuddering with disgust at such abomination, you rushed to the set of monkey bars, hearing Neil following up closely. You gritted your teeth, swinging your body to help yourself get through the part, and that’s when you felt a light tap on your foot.

You glared to your left, where Neil was gaining an advantage over you.

“Damn you and your infinite legs, man! It doesn’t count!”

“Losing looks good on you,” he said, landing and then instantly ducking under your reached out hand.

“Too bad it’s not gonna stick,” you scoffed as you ran after him to jump on one of the parallel logs. Balancing was easy enough, even with inversion; it gave you the perfect opportunity to plan ahead, while Neil had to maintain full focus. “Must say - all that sass definitely makes you like... ten percent hotter.”

But you’d taught him well, apparently, and instead of losing his pace, he only shot you a quick glance accompanied by an arched brow.

“Only ten?”

“Dunno, come over here and let me take a closer look,” you teased, getting a short chuckle in response. “No?” - you sighed - “Alrighty then.” And you leaped to the side straight into Neil, pushing him off the log. He yelped and grabbed you by the shirt, the momentum sending you both straight into the mud. You landed on top of Neil, collapsing into his arms for a moment to catch a breath and to stop laughing.

You leaned back to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, maaaybe fifteen,” you panted, booping his mask as you would do to his nose.

Neil snickered and nodded.

“I’ll take it.”

When your gazes met, his features softened, and he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear gently. You smiled behind the mask and sat up, straddling his waist. Neil was studying you closely, his hands grazed your sides and rested on your hips. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you leaned over him again and slowly reached out, and--

“Simba…” you choked out with reverence, brushing a muddy thumb across his forehead.

Tears from the held-back laughter threatened to spill any second as you observed Neil blanking out in utter confusion. The five stages of grief ran through his expression and then he closed his eyes and sighed theatrically.

“The fate of the world is in the hands of a complete madwoman.”

...the what now?

You tilted your head, grinning.

“Aren’t you a little dramatic?”

Then, without a warning, Neil shifted under you, rolling you off him and pinning you down.

“Birds of a feather and all that,” he said, clearly enjoying the way you squealed and squirmed as the mud got under your shirt. “You think you got a hang of the inverted movement already?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. Neil realized your intentions a second too late. A handful of mud splashed on his face and you chuckled with satisfaction. “Yeah, now I think I’m ready to go.”

You turned up at the airlock soon after, looking like something that cat dragged in, but beaming widely. Dreaming of a hot shower and a clean set of clothes, you put down the mask and the oxygen container and headed to the turnstile.

Wheeler was waiting for you near the machine, and seeing the state you were in, she just gaped at you both, trying to come up with an adequate question.

As you noticed her quizzical look, you gave her a thumbs up and smiled.

“If you ain't dirty, you ain't here to party! Wooo!” you whooped, throwing your hands up and trotting past her straight into the turnstile.

Right before reverting yourself back to your original state, you heard Wheeler’s hushed question.

“You two all right?”

And then Neil’s answer.

“Don’t worry, we’re good.”

--------

The truck’s engine hummed steadily, which could only mean you were on some sort of highway. At least the container stopped wobbling, so you could practice in peace.

No wobbles meant no excuses, though. You sighed, readjusting your grip on the tools.

Neil had fallen asleep some time ago, after making sure you figured out the locks and hearing your solemn promise that you would follow him soon.

One day after that eventful night, then inverting and going straight back without proper sleep. You knew he was right and you needed at least a nap. But you couldn’t. Not before you were absolutely sure you got it. The usual locks weren’t that bad. The inverted ones were a whole other story.

It’d taken you long enough to crack them in the safety of your own apartment, without the weird physics, ever-present even within the air-locked container. Without the pressure.

The fate of the world.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You didn’t even know what was that thing you were supposed to retrieve soon. It was okay, you didn’t need to. It was a quite common situation in your work history. That kind of knowledge could be dangerous, after all.

The pin clicked and you sighed again, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the burning sensation even for a moment.

Besides, you were doing it for Neil. The memory of that panicked look on his face when he’d seen the documents was enough to keep you going.

But did he have to say that?

You had to do it. Not only because you felt responsible for him, in a way. What you’d told the boss was true and you weren’t the only one at fault for Neil not being fully ready for that assignment. He was your friend, wasn’t he? And there was no way you’d leave a friend in need.

You pressed your lips together, forcing yourself to breathe.

Probably a stupid joke, nothing more.

But what if he was being serious? What if that thing out there was really that important? And you were about to fuck everything up because you couldn’t get your shit together fast enough to figure out the bloody inverted mechanism again. And with every minute wasted and not spent on resting there was a higher chance of messing up at the actual location.

Hell of a locksmith you were, huh?

The feedback from the tools came with a final warning like a sobering slap. If you were to continue, they would snap any second now.

You let out a shaky breath and retraced from the lock, hiding your face in the palms.

A gentle touch on your shoulder almost made you flinch. Of course, he had to wake up in the middle of your breakdown.

“Go back to sleep, we still have a few hours left,” you muttered into your hands, trying to collect yourself.

“Not before you talk to me,” said Neil as his fingers slid down your arm. He was crouching right beside you, the blue eyes boring into you with concern. “What is it?”

You sighed and shifted in your seat to face him.

“Wanna make sure I got it, that’s all.”

Neil’s brows knitted together.

“But I saw you open that lock once, why--”

“Once! And that’s exactly the problem!” you fumed and glared at the table. “I can’t crack it again, I--” your voice wavered and you gritted the teeth in frustration. “What if it was a stroke of dumb luck? Should I start praying for another one to happen there?”

Another delicate touch, this time on your knees, was enough to make you look back at Neil. A shade of smile tainted his lips as he searched your gaze.

“Someone used to tell me all the time that if you did it once, you can do it again.”

You hung your head and huffed, “Maybe that someone was full of shit.’

“I know for a fact that she wasn’t,” he chuckled, taking the tools out of your clenched fists and putting them back at the table. “She was utterly brilliant,” he continued, reaching for your cramping, trembling hands and taking them in his, ”and always reminded me to take a break instead of agonizing over a stubborn lock.”

That you did, all right. Your laugh sounded awfully close to a sob. God, if you weren’t exhausted.

Mustering enough strength to look him in the eyes, you squeezed his hands, trying to convey all the gratitude in the gesture. And hide that bit of embarrassment, too.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said and his thumbs brushed over your knuckles. “Scoot over.”

You moved back on the provisional bench, making enough space for him to sit next to you. And so he did, not letting go of your hands even for a second. He started rubbing small circles into them and you grunted softly. Neil gave you a knowing smile and soon enough, his fingers glided between your forearms and fingertips, applying pressure to the tensest places, careful strokes and precise moves bringing a much-needed release. You couldn’t help small groans escaping your mouth, every one of them adding to the self-satisfied grin hiding in the corner of Neil’s mouth. But then, instead of teasing you, his features softened and you caught his glance, warm and sheepish.

“I don’t think I properly thanked you for offering to help me with this mission.”

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” you laughed and winced as Neil’s thumbs worked on your wrists. “Don’t thank me yet, we still need to pull it off first.”

“Well, maybe we already have, from the typical point of view,” - he pondered, lighting up - “seeing that we are moving back--”

“Neil, please, I’m all for discussing it later, but right now it’s about to give me a pounding headache.”

When you met his eyes, you noted with relief that he didn’t mind you cutting him off like that. He knew that you were tired, nothing more.

“Right, sorry.” Then he looked at you with determination, suddenly serious. “Whatever happens… thank you. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” you said quietly as your heart ached with unexpected fondness.

Neil smiled, shaking off the sentimental moment. His hands cupped yours and gave them a light squeeze.

“Now would you please get some rest?”

“Will you tuck me in?” you grinned and batted your lashes at him, earning an amused snort in return.

“I can even sing you a lullaby if that means you’ll fall asleep faster,” he said, standing up and tugging at your hand.

“Ah, I’m afraid I’m gonna crash too fast to properly appreciate it,” you giggled as he kited you all the way to the resting area at the front of the container. “But I’m definitely taking a rain check on that.”

“Sure.” One final brush of his thumb over your fingers and he let go of your hand, smirking. “Now sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

-------

Neil proved to be an excellent companion.

You disabled the alarms simultaneously, paying attention to all the possible silent traps. Forcing the main locks went smoothly, almost surprisingly so. For having something of such importance hidden there, the owners of the place seemed strangely old-fashioned; it shone through the antique decor of the lofty apartment as well as the security choices. Too easy. Tuning out an intrusive thought rattling in the back of your head, you scouted the dark rooms, careful not to leave any traces of your presence.

There.

The office you saw in the photos.

...but they’d redecorated.

“That’s one fancy safe they got there,” you said nonchalantly, eyeing the ornament piece of metal lit by your flashlight, “Too bad it somehow got left out at the briefing.”

Neil’s face dropped when he followed you inside the room.

“Christ, and what now?”

Good question. You’d worked with safes before, hell, you’d cracked a fair share of them using simply manipulation. But never going bloody backwards in time. How would that even work? Was it normal or inverted?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

“I’ve got this.” And that’s how you felt, despite the initial panic. There was a method to it, and you had most of the things you needed with you. Perks of overpreparing. The only issue was-- ... “It might take a while, though.”

Neil nodded.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Keep an eye on the time for me, I gotta focus,” you said, reaching into your backpack and accidentally pulling on the thin tube. Right. “...and maybe on the oxygen levels as well?”

“Will do.”

Your brain switched into the challenge mode, and your fingers tingled to give it a try. Armed with a sound amplifier and a little notepad, you sat down next to the safe and got to work.

Figuring out your way in was meant to be a hit and miss, doubly so with the goddamn inversion. But minute after minute, click by click, you determined the first contact points, and the years of experience took you from there. You scribbled numbers and variations in the notepad, fully focused on the task. Almost there.

Another combination. Inhale. Exhale. Pull.

Gotcha.

“Neil?” you called out in the hushed voice as the beam from the flashlight landed on a small metal box of a peculiar shape.

He was next to you in no time.

“That’s it,” he said, kneeling down. He reached inside and took out the box, then carefully placed it inside his backpack. The blue eyes glimmered in the dim light. “Good job!”

“Thanks,” you smiled and closed the safe. “Now let’s get out of here.”

You gathered and packed all your stuff, double-checking for any leftover signs of your entry.

Then you heard it. A faint, slightly off patter against the huge windows. You froze in place as your mind tried to grasp the view of trickles of rain coming up the glass.

Neil glanced outside, not mindful of the absolutely bonkers scene that wiped any coherent thought from your head. Although judging from how quickly his face lost all the colours, the view he got was even more disturbing.

“Christ…” he uttered, shooting you a panicked look. “We’ve got company.”

You dashed to the window to see for yourself. A group of people was crossing the empty street, moving pretty much normally, and that only meant...

Fuck.

“The owners?”

Neil shook his head. “Impossible. The third party, probably.” With his hand already on the holster, he hesitated, considering the options.

But there were only two: fight or flight. The problem was - the numbers didn’t look good for you to try pushing through the crew downstairs. And as for the second one, your initial exit routes seemed to be cut off already.

Although, there was still one path left. You almost smiled to yourself. He was not going to like it.

“Let’s go through the roofs.”

Neil’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” he asked, scanning your face for any sign of doubt.

There was none.

“Yes, but we have to leave right now.”

He swallowed with effort and nodded.

As soon as you bolted out of the apartment and rushed up the stairs, the footsteps coming from the lower levels quickened. Time was running out.

You were about to barge outside when Neil grabbed your hand as if he sensed what was going to happen next. The doors opened and you lost the momentum, startled by the view. Heavy showers replaced the drizzle you saw through the window, intensifying the nauseating effect.

The last strands of sanity threatened to leave you, but Neil’s touch was like an anchor, grounding you and keeping you from spiraling further.

“Which way?” he shouted through the hammering, almost deafening rain.

You blinked rapidly and looked around to match the data from the brief to the actual location.

“Over there!”

Wishing you’d had a goddamn collar to pop, you leaped to the side, guiding Neil through your only escape route. You let go of his hand to vault over the vents, and just as your feet touched the surface again, you heard distant yells behind you. Shit.

The high density of the area was working in your favor, but only for so long. There was meant to be a gap between the buildings sooner or later, and one of them was coming right up. The jump was doable, even for Neil - all you needed was speed and a decent launch.

But when your companion noticed the edge of the roof, he slowed down and stopped by a low parapet wall, cursing.

“No fucking way!”

“Yes fucking way, Neil, come on! We don’t have time!” you urged him as the voices behind you grew louder.

He swallowed with effort, too transfixed on the gap. You bit back an impatient groan and grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look at you.

“Neil, listen to me. You can do this. All you need is a run-up.”

He didn’t seem convinced. You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your own rising panic in check.

“Do you trust me? Yes or no?”

He met your eyes and his features hardened. There.

“I do.”

And when you opened the mouth again, the first bullet whizzed past you. You flinched, but maintained the eye contact, afraid to lose Neil’s newfound confidence. “Then go first, I’m right behind you.”

Neil nodded and backed away quickly. Watching him jump, your heart skipped a beat, but he landed on the other side without too much trouble. Good. Your turn.

You dashed towards the rim and another bullet missed your legs by a hair’s breadth, hitting the parapet wall right ahead of you. A little close to the top, as you noted, jumping on it to leap across the gap.

But the realization came a moment too late. The wall crumbled under your feet.

Enough for you to not make it to the other side.

Someone screamed.

Was it you?

It didn’t matter.

The world dissolved in a flash of agonizing pain.

And darkness.

----

Static beeping. The smell of disinfectants. And your every particle throbbing in dull pain.

Somebody was having a quiet conversation nearby. The Protagonist… and Neil?

A wave of relief flooded over you. He’d made it.

Grunting, you opened your eyes and squinted, waiting for your sight to readjust to the poor light. Weird. Why would they keep you in such a pitch-black room?

“Gents?” you called out, carefully shifting upwards, wincing. “Would you mind getting the lights?”

The conversation stopped and you heard a gasp.

“Lights? But it’s the middle of the day?” said The Protagonist, but Neil cut him off.

“You’re awake!” Footsteps and a sudden touch on your hand. Neil’s voice trembled slightly, as well as his fingers. “Are you okay?”

You bored into darkness, hoping to see the familiar face.

To see anything.

To see.

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #tenet #robert pattinson #neil tenet fanfiction #tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #the protagonist tenet #ives tenet #wheeler tenet #long nights

83 notes · View notes

tsumuniri · 3 years

Text

━━━ Atsumu Miya is a free-loader. Living inside his twin brother's home as if it was his, he would bring home girls and annoy Osamu most of the time. Y/N L/N is quite the opposite apparently because she's a virgin loser. Being the popular anonymous BL mangaka known as Yamazaki, she stays in the homey abode of her parents and watches boys from afar for references (not for admiration sadly).

Now what will happen if fate decided to tie these two idiots together and made them live across each other in one apartment?

。m.list ❯❯ prev┃next

ONE ━━ THE TWIN BROTHER’S DECISION

"SO THAT'S THE TEA?"

You nodded dejectedly and raised the Tuna Mayo Onigiri in the direction of your mouth. You bit into the delicious rice snack, humming in delight as the saucy and sweet flavors of tuna cheered you up just for a slight bit. "They said that a girl my age shouldn't be living with her parents and should finally get a guy instead of drawing an imaginary one. You know that they're old school, Mai." You said, mouth full of rice bits and tuna.

The female ran her fingers through her short bright red hair. "Well, you are 25 now, and you haven't got a boyfriend since middle school," She propped her elbow on top of the round wooden table, resting her chin on her palm. "But they should've told you beforehand, right? How are you supposed to look for a residence in a short span of time?" She asked and watched you devour the onigiri meal with such ease. Her black-colored eyes held an uncertain expression as Mai was concerned for her colleague and friend.

After hearing the unfortunate news directly from your loving parents, your mind had to process the sudden information for two solid minutes. The first person you thought of to call is your closest friend, Mai, your roommate back at art school and a mangaka in the shounen industry. Although the two genres have completely different backgrounds, you two are stuck together like peas in a pod through the grace and glory of fawning over 2d men.

Ain't that great?

"They said I could stay back for two weeks until I could find a place to move in. I still have nine days to move out. And as for the residence part..."

You rummaged through the leather bag slung over your shoulder and took out a creased brochure of a newly built apartment based in the heart of east Osaka with its breathtaking cherry blossom conifers and pious shrines. The leaflet's minimalistic design delineated the idiosyncratic architectural structure of the tall building on the front page. Anybody could tell that this jointly owned establishment may settle for tenants with stable incomes.

For someone who changed the BL archives with her plot-driven works, Y/N could provide the fees to rent a homey room on the clabber-plastered apartment complex.

Mai shifted on her seat and studied the brochure on the table with interest— crossing her legs and leaning her torso forward to get a full view of the given pamphlet. "The building does seem promising. You could even check out your works in the Manga Shops at the city." She remarked as her eyes skimmed through the brochure, taking note of the facilities and rooms for the future tenants.

"Right? I already checked the place out yesterday, and coincidentally, the studio office is close by," The H/C-haired female pushed back the tiny strands of baby hair tickling her forehead as it was annoying her smooth skin. "They even allow pets. The apartment buildings I visited mostly don't allow pets, and the others who do, they have weird-ass tenants whom I don't really wanna be neighbors with." She ended, scratching the back of her neck.

"Soooooo, that's the apartment you're planning to move in."

You nodded your head, "I prepared the papers and told my parents about it. Maybe you can help me move my things out?" You suggested to your friend as your leg overlapped with the other, biting into another piece of onigiri from the porcelain plate.

Tilting her head to the side, Mai let out a light scoff from the BL mangaka's proposition as she gestured her hand downwards. "I'm offended, Y/N! Of course, I'll help you." She expressed her whimsical disbelief through her words. "I thought we were best of friends." The young lady teased.

"After all those collab fan arts of the Akatsuki, why wouldn't we be at this point?" You joked; however, the shinobi anime reference wasn't technically a gag as you both had a history of fangirling over the smexy criminal organization— even if you both had a peculiar taste in men. "By the way, why did you choose this place? Isn't this sort of far away from your workplace?" You questioned the red-haired female, a bit curious on why she decided to meet up with you in this Onigiri Restaurant.

Mai's lips turned up into a smirk as she motioned her finger for you to move closer. "My assistants and I decided to eat here after a hard day's work. By the time we were all seated, our eyes got blessed when the restaurant's owner catered to our table!" She whispered with excitement dipped on her tongue.

"Oh boy, if you had seen him, you would've gotten the inspiration to make a character from his well-sculpted face."

You raised a brow and let out a snortle, "We went here because a hot owner caught your attention? I should've gone with you then." You played along and couldn't help but laugh at your friend's reason for dining out a distance away from her studio office.

Like middle schoolers, you both giggled as Mai continued her story of the dashing Onigiri restaurant owner with her witty play of words. You never had any interest in dating; however, you still bid no mind to your friend's fawning over pretty men who would unlikely pay attention to either of them.

"That owner you're talking about might not visit his restaurant, Mai."

"I know, silly! But I do wonder what that work of art does outside his work."

Osamu is a very patient man. May it be through his responsibility of running an Onigiri business, or may it be just a simple waiting in line at the subway station of Tokyo, the male wouldn't lose his temper nor be frustrated over such trivial things.

But when his exhausted figure slugged inside the comforts of his home and found the living room all trashed with empty bottles of energy drinks and bags of chips, Osamu was finally at his breaking point.

"Atsumu, you mother-fucker... COME DOWNSTAIRS THIS INSTANT!" He burst out, calling out his twin brother's name as he began picking up the trashes scattered throughout his coffee table and his lawson couch. His ears caught the sound of loud footsteps thumping on the wooden-tiled floor as he could immediately tell that it was a certain someone who came down the stairs.

A bed of ruffled blonde hair popped out of the stairway as a certain setter casually jumps into the scene of the untidy crime, walking towards the other twin with open arms.

"Welcome home, Samu! Did your staff make a mistake in the newly-opened shop back at Shinjuku? You look a bit frustrated right now-"

Atsumu stopped himself once he noticed his twin brother standing over the mess he forgot to clean up. His arms dropped to the side while his chocolate eyes shifted over to Osamu's annoyed expression, "Okay. This time, I absolutely forgot to clean up." The male tried to explain himself.

The quiet one of the two shook his head in disapproval, sighing out and pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his fiery nerves. "I found this apartment, Tsumu. I think it's best for the both of us if you could finally get your own place." He stated, hearing the slight choke coming from his brother's throat.

"WHAT?! What made you think that this would be the best for the both of us, Samu?" Atsumu protested, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as to why his brother would suggest that sort of idea.

Osamu raised his hand and lifted three of his fingers to his twin's eye level. "First, you sometimes disrupt my sleep whenever you'd bring your flings at home," He stated and didn't bother to let the other speak their mind about the issue at hand as he continued his statement of reasons. "Second, you'd sometimes forget to do your lists of chores and often lie that you didn't do them because you were tired from training." He paused for a moment, thinking of a third reason until it clicked in the back of his mind.

"Lastly, you're a 23 professional athlete, who makes a lot of money than what I usually make, and yet, you're living with your twin brother."

Atsumu stared at Osamu as he crossed his arms, "So? You'll kick me out if I don't move out of your place?" He derided, his voice mostly holding a hint of teasing as he knew his brother wouldn't act so rashly over those reasons.

Oh, was the male so wrong.

"Yes, Tsumu. I'm kicking you out."

#haikyuu x you #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#atsumu is a cutie #atsumu fluff #atsumubrainrot #atsumu fic #atsumu x female reader #msby atsumu #atsumu miya #hq atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #msby #miya osamu #ishiwrites #haikyuu fic

32 notes · View notes

spine-buster · 3 years

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 31

A/N: Bubble chapters incoming.....!

July 18th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was getting frappucinos with Kasha.

She was happy she and Kasha were on the same page – that they would get tacos for a late dinner and bring them back to their place to eat. Neither were comfortable with dining in restaurants, even though it was allowed. It just wasn’t something they wanted to do just yet. So they’d take the tacos back to their apartment, sit on their balcony, and have a romantic date night with the frappucinos and – if Aberdeen was being honest – a bottle of rosé between them.

Kasha had to run to an ATM, so Aberdeen was left waiting for the tacos herself. It was a Saturday night, so the streets were somewhat busy – not as busy as they would have been during normal times, but busy enough that it made Aberdeen uncomfortable. What was everybody doing out? Where were they going? Who were they meeting up with? Why weren’t they staying at home? It was all very weird to her. Last summer she wouldn’t have even batted an eye; now, she was hyperaware of the people around her, hyperaware of standing six feet away from the other people ordering tacos, either in line or at the restaurant, and was clutching on to the strap of her bag so her hands didn’t fidget with her mask or touch anything else around her. She was getting tested every day at work, and thankfully she was lucky to have them always come back negative. She was being extra cautious. She didn’t want to—

“Aberdeeeeeen? Is that you?!” a voice suddenly called out from down the sidewalk.

Aberdeen looked to her right to see Saylor walking down the sidewalk with a posse of girls equally as glamourous as she was. Aberdeen looked down at her outfit and gulped. Leave it to Saylor to show up when she was waiting for a boatload of food and in clothes she just threw on to appear presentable in public. “Hey Saylor,” Aberdeen half-waved. More than anything, she was surprised to see Saylor in the city – from what she’d seen on Instagram, Saylor had gone back to Lake Forest during quarantine. Kasperi had joined her.

“You’re wearing a mask outside? I thought you didn’t have to here.”

“I was just inside,” Aberdeen pointed with her thumb to the restaurant. Not that she had to justify wearing a mask anywhere. The world was still in the midst of a fucking pandemic. “Just waiting for my food…and my friend.”

“These are my friends – Gina, Amanda, Jen, and Sadie,” she pointed to each girl. Aberdeen gave them all a quick nod. They couldn’t seem less interested in her. “Girls, Aberdeen works for the Leafs with Kasperi.”

Suddenly, all of their eyes shot forward. “Really?” the one identified as Jen asked. “What do you do?”

“I—I’m Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant,” she revealed reluctantly. She didn’t want to tell these girls anything, let alone her job.

“Kasperi told me you’re going into the bubble next week,” Saylor said before the conversation could go any further.

“I am,” she nodded, hesitating to even confirm the news to Saylor. After their last altercation in Los Angeles, Aberdeen was fine with never seeing her again. She was almost positive Saylor felt the same way, but apparently not.

“He said you’re going to be the only girl in there.”

Saylor was right. Aberdeen would be the only woman in the bubble for the Leafs. She was sure – well, she fucking hoped – that other women from other team staff would be at the hotel too. It would make the experience a lot less fucking awkward, that was for sure. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Saylor’s friend Gina snorted. “We all know what you’ll be used for.”

Aberdeen’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Now she knew why Saylor didn’t just ignore her and walk by her on the street. She wanted other people to do her dirty work for her. She wanted to re-live what happened in Los Angeles, except this time, it would be five against one.

“Not yet,” Saylor smiled wryly. “Not until she gets her nose job.”

The other girls laughed. Aberdeen narrowed her eyes at Saylor. “I fucking love my big nose, alright?”

“I’m sure you do. That’s very homely of you,” Saylor rolled her eyes. “And I’m warning you now, you better stay away from Kasperi in that bubble.”

Aberdeen snorted out loud. Actually snorted. “Oh my God, is that was this is about?” she asked indignantly. “You’re…Saylor, you’re joking right?”

Saylor didn’t look too pleased that Aberdeen was laughing at her. “Stay away from my boyfriend.”

“I wouldn’t touch your boyfriend with a ten-foot pole. I wouldn’t even touch him wearing a hazmat suit.”

Saylor took a step forward, trying to intimidate her. Aberdeen was laughing too much to care. The whole thing got so ridiculous so quickly that the only thing she could do was laugh. Saylor was completely out to lunch. “It’s so obvious that you’re so jealous of me,” she said.

“Saylor, I don’t even think about you at all.”

“We ready to go? I got our tacos,” Kasha’s voice suddenly interrupted the confrontation. Aberdeen looked behind her to see Kasha holding the bag up slightly, eyeing the situation. Aberdeen wondered how much of the conversation she’d heard. “Who’s this, Aberdeen?”

Aberdeen took a slight step back. “This is Saylor. Kasperi’s girlfriend.”

Kasha nodded once. “Have fun,” she said to the group of girls before linking her free arm around Aberdeen’s. As they took their first step forward, Kasha looked at Aberdeen. “Kasperi? Is that the one that DM’ed me?” she asked. Loudly.

Aberdeen didn’t turn around to see Saylor’s reaction. She didn’t need to. She knew she would have never seen someone turn so red so quickly in her entire life. And as they walked down the street, the wry smile on Kasha’s face grew. “Was that okay?” Kasha asked.

“You’re brilliant,” Aberdeen said. Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do – okay, it definitely wasn’t the nicest thing to do – but God did it feel good. Kappy had never DM’ed Kasha before in her life. Aberdeen wasn’t even sure Kappy knew who Kasha was even though he met her at the Halloween party. “I might get a phone call later, but it was brilliant.”

“If you get a phone call, I’ll let them know that she said you weren’t hot enough without a nose job,” Kasha said.

“So you heard that?”

“That’s when I came in. The guy was calling your name and so I grabbed the food and lingered.”

Aberdeen smiled. “I love you, bitch.”

“Love you too, bitch.”

***

Message from: Kasperi Kapanen

I heard u ran into Saylor tonite?

Yes

Why did Kasha say I slid into her DMs?

Must have had to do with the fact that Saylor told me I wasn’t pretty enough for any of you to fuck in the bubble unless I got a nose job.

***

minskatt what did saylor say to u tn?

Nothing important because you love my nose and that’s all that matters

can i call u

No I’m with Kasha

minskatt please

It’s fine Willy I don’t care She’s dumb She thinks I’m jealous of her And she told me to stay away from Kappy in the bubble She thinks I want to sleep with him I mean 🤣

omg

Please don’t worry about it I’ll see you tomorrow

i love u

I love you too I want you to cum down my throat tomorrow Okay?

🥴🥴🥴

***

July 25th, 2020

Aberdeen and William promised each other they would take it slow because they wanted to make the moment last as long as possible.

They were both fully packed. Aberdeen’s suitcase was packed back in her bedroom. A two-month supply of food and cat litter was bought for Minerva so that Kasha wouldn’t have to go get any, just in case the Leafs went all the way (which meant, at the end of August, she’d be getting on a plane to Edmonton, too). She had organized outfits – work and casual. She made sure to bring entertainment. The Louis Vuitton duffel bag they all got her for her birthday definitely came in handy. William had packed some clothes and shoes. Made sure to pack the basic necessities. He’d texted guys on the team to see what they were bringing in so he didn’t forget anything. He wasn’t the best packer.

Now, all that was left was to spend time together before they couldn’t anymore.

William didn’t want to go straight into sex. There was no point. The sex was great but what he wanted, more than anything, was intimacy – to be able to hold Aberdeen and feel her body pressed up against his; to be able to take in her scent as he always did and be calmed by it as he always was; to be able to bury his face in the crook of her neck and graze his lips along her skin there so delicately it made her shiver; to whisper ‘I love you’ over and over again to her while “Quitting You” by the Arkells played on a constantly loop quietly in the background of their time together. This is what he would miss. Florida was different – they were a country away from each other, and it was hard. But to have her working with them, in the same bubble, while everyone was around, on the same floor, and not be able to get her alone, go to her hotel room, even hold her hand? It would be torture.

He laid his head on her chest, hearing and feeling her heart beat as she ran her fingers through his hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around her and buried underneath her – he was sure the circulation would cut off soon but he didn’t care. He closed his eyes, and pictured them holding hands. Openly. Aberdeen was smiling. He pulled her into him and kissed her. They were in the team locker room.

“What are you thinking about?” Aberdeen’s soft voice broke the silence.

“You,” he said simply. “Us.”

“What about us?” she asked.

“Holding your hand,” he said. “Kissing you in the locker room.”

When he shifted his head to look up at her, she was smiling. “Do you hate me because we can’t?”

He shook his head. “I could never hate you, minskatt. You know that.”

“It’ll happen soon. I promise,” she said. “You won’t have to do anymore waiting.”

“Shhhh…” he cooed, moving up and nuzzling his nose against her jawline. “I’m not waiting for anything when you’re here with me, am I?” he asked, placing the lightest of kisses on her jawline.

Aberdeen sighed happily. “When I write my first book, I’m dedicating it to you. It’s gonna say ‘For William, for waiting’,” she said with a slight chuckle.

He chuckled too. “I look forward to it. Your second book can be dedicated to Siena or Cam or your parents.”

“Second book? I’m writing a second book, am I?” she smiled.

“Mhm,” he nodded her. “You’re gonna write a bunch of books, minskatt. And they’re all gonna be amazing, and you’ll be all literary or whatever, and everybody’s gonna buy your books.”

Her heart was growing a thousand sizes. “You think so?”

“I know so. You’re gonna be a famous writer, minskatt. I’ll just be in the background.”

She curled around and shifted her body into his. Their lips came together tenderly as they began kissing each other, Aberdeen slipping her tongue into William’s mouth easily. His hands wandered down her body to cup her ass before he helped her hook her leg over his torso. They lay kissing for a while until their lips were red and swollen and their breathless gasps the only sound they could hear in the room. When William pulled away quickly to take a breath, Aberdeen shifted to lay on her back. “Willy?” she asked, her voice breathless.

“Minskatt?”

“Make love to me, Willy. One last time before the bubble.”

He picked her up and brought her to his bedroom, setting her down on the bed gently before crawling over her body and continuing their kissing. With some trusty hands, William’s hoodie was off, then Aberdeen’s top, then Aberdeen’s pants, then William’s pants. He kissed down her body, but she pulled him back up. “Willy—”

“Minskatt—”

“I just need to feel you inside me, Willy. Please.”

Somewhat reluctantly, he kissed his way back up her body, paying attention to her breasts for a while before he put on a condom and she wrapped her legs around him and he entered her slowly. Everything was so slow and gentle and intimate, and he’d buried his face into the crook of her neck again to kiss the skin there. When he came back up and looked at her, it was very clear to him that there were tears welling in her eyes. His mind immediately went into overdrive and his body seized up. “Aberdeen? Aberdeen why are you crying?”

“I’m not – no – no no no, it’s not you, it’s not you,” she let out quickly, cupping his face in her hands. His entire body had stopped moving as he hovered over here. She felt a few tears escape down the sides of her eyes, powerless to stop them. “It’s just me. It’s me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just love you so much,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “You believe in me, Willy.”

“Of course I believe in you. I’ll always believe in you. Where is this coming from?”

“It was Florida. Sixty-one days away from you,” she explained. “Now in the bubble we’re going to be together but we can’t be together, and I want you to know how much I love you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” he nodded.

“Whatever happens in the bubble, I believe in you and I’ll always believe in you like you believe in me,” she said.

William’s heart panged at her statement. He craned his head to continue to kiss her, and she could feel tears – not her own – on her cheeks as well. His slow and steady movements, passionate and thorough and pleasurable all at once, reminded her of that love they just spoke of. They made love with everything they had in them. And when they climaxed, and William collapsed on top of Aberdeen’s body, she held him close to her, unwilling to let him go.

He shifted slightly to move out of her, but she tightened her legs around him. “No,” she pleaded. “Stay. I want to feel you inside me for as long as possible.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please Willy,” she almost begged, although she knew she wouldn’t have to. “Stay. Let’s just stay like this.”

***

July 26th, 2020

Aberdeen’s family had made it to the staff send-off before they went into the bubble. Camden and Siena came along too. Camden made her a card and gave her a crossword puzzles book he’d bought her at Indigo. When Siena hugged her, she said “Make good choices!” jokingly. Their parents would always say it to them before they got out of the car when they were driven to parties or the like.

If Siena only knew.

Once her family left, Aberdeen had the fantastic tasks of preparing the buses and organizing significant others to be far enough away from each other so everyone was still social distancing. Everybody’s significant other was there, save for the single guys like Auston and (to everyone else) William. As she stood off to the side, she couldn’t help but watch.

Bee McTavish was crying. She wasn’t wailing loudly or anything like that, but Aberdeen could see her glistening cheeks from her tears as Morgan couldn’t stop kissing her and she couldn’t stop wiping her eyes. He looked pretty torn up about leaving her, too. She knew all the guys would be. They were excited to play hockey again but they weren’t too sold on the concept of the bubble. Everyone was going to hate being away from their families – Bee and Morgan were no exception. “Call me whenever you want to,” Aberdeen overheard her tell him. “And if a single thing starts to hurt you please don’t play. You need to be healthy, Morgan.”

Frederik Andersen and Aleida Casillas couldn’t stop kissing, either. Aleida was getting emotional, although Aberdeen knew that Aleida didn’t want to show it. Fred’s new wedding ring glistened in the light. Aberdeen could only imagine what it was like to leave your wife on your one-month anniversary.

Jace was giggling at his dad’s kisses. John had spent the last five minutes holding and kissing his baby boy, with Aryne smiling and cuddling them too. Aberdeen could see Aryne’s small bump peeking out through her t-shirt and realized John was going into the bubble while his wife was pregnant and having to take care of a one-year-old. Her heart ached. She saw the smile on John’s face as he cooed at his son and Jace kept repeating “Dada” over and over again and she could feel a rush of emotion flood her face.

When she saw that Jason had his four girls in a giant bear hug, Aberdeen had to hold in a giant sob. He was crouching down at their level, kissing them all multiple times and whispering things to them as Jen looked on, looking like she was on the verge of tears herself. Jason wouldn’t let them go – couldn’t let them go. Aberdeen had to look away so she didn’t start crying right then and there. It was too much for her to think about.

“You okay, Aberdeen?” Auston’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she whipped her head towards him.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying not to think about the scenes she just saw. “Do you need me to pack your bag in the bus?” she asked.

“I’m not gonna make you pack my bag, Aberdeen,” he said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Aberdeen looked at Auston, but could only see right past him. Behind him, she could see Kappy and Saylor saying their goodbyes. Saylor was hugging Kappy but giving Aberdeen a death stare. Aberdeen focused her attention back on Auston. “How much does Saylor hate me?” she asked.

Auston shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. I don’t talk to her anymore. But from what I hear, a lot.”

“Good to know. What have you heard? Because she thinks I want to sleep with Kappy.”

Auston smiled. “Something like that.” Aberdeen rolled her eyes playfully, smiling back at Auston. “For what it’s worth, she thinks everybody wants to sleep with Kappy,” Auston said. “You know, because he’s just so good looking.”

“You ready for the bubble?” Saylor’s voice suddenly surprised them from behind Auston. Because of their conversation, they hadn’t seen her approach. Auston jumped slightly. He noticed that Saylor was staring directly at Aberdeen.

“As ready as we can be, I think,” Aberdeen said.

“Just remember what I told you!” Saylor said in a playful tone. “Stay six feet away from my boyfriend!”

“Just for you, Saylor, I’ll make it ten,” Aberdeen winked. “I’ll put a pole between us if that’d what you prefer.”

***

There were cameras everywhere covering their arrival. Naturally, of course, since they were the Toronto Maple Leafs. Aberdeen only hoped that she wasn’t caught in any of the photos. She’d already had enough of a time with her identity and stalkers showing up outside her apartment. She didn’t need people to be lingering outside of the bubble gates for her as well.

They checked in. Everything was eerie. They could only go up the elevators two at a time with their suitcases after they got their welcome packages and key cards. Aberdeen was situated at the first room to the right side of the elevators. The equipment staff, trainers, doctor, and coaches were in the wing as well. Kyle and Brendan had their rooms opposite each other at the very end of the hallway. The social media person was across from her. A few more of the equipment guys were on “her” side of the hallway. To the left of the elevators were the team rooms. William was the second room in, in the middle between Auston and Mitch. Jason was in the middle of the hallway. She knew these things because – as the executive assistant to perhaps the most important executive there – she got a copy of the room allocations and floorplan.

When she walked into her room, it was set up like any normal, swanky hotel room. There was a queen-sized bed and a big, beautiful window that looked directly out onto the CN Tower. The bathroom was big and immaculate. Things were practically shining. She hauled her suitcase onto the bed before going to the window to push the curtains open. If she was going to have a view of the city, she was going to milk it for all it was worth.

When she walked back to her bed, something on the nightstand caught her eye, and she walked over to it. Once she realized what they were, her breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t know who was responsible for this. But it made her so emotional. There were three frames with pictures in them, each more sentimental than the last. In the first frame, there was a mashup of two pictures: one of she and Siena when Siena attended the game in Ottawa, and one of she and Camden when Camden visited right before lockdown. The second picture was the group shot of the outdoor practice, where she was freezing her butt off but having the time of her life. The third, and perhaps the one that hit her the most, was a picture from the Night With the Blue and White. In it, she was posing for a picture with Brendan, Jason, and William, with a champagne flute in her hand. Her smile took up half her face.

She let out a sob.

It wasn’t that she looked so happy. It wasn’t that she could still remember the way William smelled that night. It wasn’t how less than ten hours after the picture was taken, she and William had sex and admitted they wanted to be in a secret relationship. It wasn’t that they had followed through with that promise now for months. It was that the picture depicted normalcy. Her job. Brendan. Jason. William. It depicted life before masks, before social distancing, before hand sanitizer being more readily available than water, before lining up outside of grocery stores. It depicted a life that seemed so far in the past. Giant gathering. Group photos. Seeing someone teeth when they smiled. Putting your arms around another person for a hug.

Now, she found herself alone in a hotel room, within an artificially created bubble, for a hockey team, with no physical contact with the outside world. Nothing about this was normal. Nothing.

***

William decided to call Aberdeen. Everybody was holed up in their rooms unpacking everything they bought, and the hotel was eerily quiet for so many people staying in it. He figured it was because the hotel was old, and its walls were solid – none of this new construction, shitty craftsmanship. These building was built by fucking donkeys, as evidence by the photographs in the lobby. Donkeys and stone; so these walls were thick. Some of the boys had checked up on him to make sure his PlayStation set up had gone smoothly. It did. But William could care less.

“Hello?” Aberdeen answered her phone.

He could immediately tell she’d been crying. “What’s wrong, minskatt?”

“These damn pictures they put up in my room,” she admitted immediately – no need to beat around the bush. “They framed the one we took with Jason and Brendan during the Night With the Blue and White.”

William understood completely how and why that would affect her. “Yeah, I get it. They put a bunch of pictures of my family. Well, my parents and my sisters.”

“No Alex?”

“He’s too ugly to be in a picture,” William deadpanned. He heard Aberdeen snort slightly on the other end. He found solace in the fact that he was able to make her laugh. “The pictures really got to you, huh?”

“It wasn’t just that,” she said. “Just seeing all the families say goodbye to each other. I watched John say goodbye to Jace and it made me emotional, but then I saw Jason saying goodbye to his girls and I absolutely lost it,” she revealed. “I kept it together for the bus ride but the second I got in here and saw these pictures, it was, like, a tidal wave.”

“How can I make it better?” William asked. He knew this would be hard on her – being in the bubble – and although he cautioned against it, Aberdeen made her own decision at the end of the day, and he respected that. It didn’t mean the bubble experience would be any better for her, but at least she made the decision herself and she came into it knowing what she was getting herself into. Aberdeen wasn’t a stupid girl. Far from it.

“You wanna just stay on the phone with me? So I can hear your voice?” she asked timidly.

“Of course,” he answered, equally as softly. She could practically see and feel his smile through the phone. “Want to practice your Swedish with me, minskatt?”

***

July 27th, 2020

“A girl?!”

Aberdeen’s ears turned red as she heard the gasp from behind her near the conference room where the Leafs were designated to eat all their meals. She was apparently a novelty. Because they had to stay holed up in their hotel rooms for most of the day, unless it was a pre-planned excursion or meal, she hadn’t seen any other women. It was awful. And now this.

She looked behind her as discreetly as she could. She saw two men – boys – wearing New York Islanders t-shirts staring at her. She recognized them immediately as Mat Barzal and Anthony Beauvillier. She glared at them.

“Is she here delivering the food?”

“She has a badge, you idiot.”

“You’re telling me she works for the team and they brought her into the bubble?”

She wanted to scream at them. But she didn’t have to. Kyle Dubas appeared out of nowhere right beside her, clutching a coffee and a banana. “Miss Bloom,” he greeted her formally, and loud enough so Mat and Anthony could hear. “Shanahan is going to need those CORSI stats for Matthews and Tavares after we eat.” He glanced at them quickly. “Boys,” he nodded a greeting.

They scurried away.

Aberdeen looked at Kyle. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Does Shanny really need those CORSI stats?” she asked.

“No,” Kyle shook his head. “I said that so they wouldn’t fuck with you.”

***

July 28th, 2020

Aberdeen was waiting for the exhibition game to start. Yet again, she was experiencing her second exhibition game for a hockey team she never thought she would work for, let alone for this long. She was in their usual box with Kyle and Brendan, but it felt different. No fans. No other personnel. The only other people around were the extra players sitting in the seats below them. The media was around somewhere, but nowhere near her. The boys were warming up on the ice.

“You okay?” Brendan asked as he looked at her.

Aberdeen nodded. “Are you?”

“As okay as I can be,” he shrugged. “I don’t get nervous about exhibition games.”

“Did you think I’d be here long enough for two sets of exhibition games?” Aberdeen asked, wiggling her eyebrows slightly.

He huffed, giving her a joking look. She began giggling. “To be honest…no.”

“Yeah, me neither. Don’t worry.”

***

Thirty-three seconds into the first period, Ilya Mikheyev scored off a pass from John Tavares that Aberdeen had seen one hundred times in training camp. She smiled wide.

Hockey was back.

163 notes · View notes

holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

Turning Page

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: Please, please, please do 13. “your love is my turning page / where only the sweetest words remain” (turning page, sleeping at last) from the music prompt list with Freddie Andersen! I love everything that you write about him ! 💕

Warning: angst, fluff, soft Freddie

Author’s Note: I wanted to find a GIF of Freddie looking *wistfully* at the reader because that’s the vibe I got from this song upon first listen and this GIF really hit hard. I did a tiny bit of research on this song, as I often do for my fics, to see if it meant something to the songwriter and that’s when I found it was written for Twilight. It’s been like a decade since I’ve watched any of those movies so I had completely forgotten that any song other than Christina Perri’s a thousand years was used for Breaking Down... That being said, I still think this is a beautiful song that led itself quite wonderfully to some fluff. I didn’t want it to be a wedding though and I had to really stop myself for writing it that way and honestly, the angst kind of got away from me in this one, whoops! If you’d like to request a song prompt, for hockey players or characters from your favourite movies/TV shows, send ‘em my way and I will work on them! Stay Golden, loves! <3

masterlist

the other masterlist

the song prompt masterlist

Freddie’s P.O.V

You met (Y/N) when you were 10 years old on her fifth birthday party. She had ribbons in her ponytails that intertwined with her soft hair easily and you laughed at the way she took a bow from one of her gifts to add it to the top of her head with a smile. A smile that permanently etched itself in your brain for years. She was the one who kept the friendship going after that day, saying she was curious about ‘Denmark’s Hockey Family’

“I don’t know anything about Hockey” she said in her soft, almost squeaky, voice. You chuckled at her insistence but agreed to let her come to a few practices and teach her some things. After ten years, the two of you had become closer than you ever thought you would

“Would you ever move to the States? Or Canada?” you asked and she scoffed at your question

“Why?” she asked, adjusting the blanket on her lap while the two of you watched a movie

“You know I want to go into the NHL...” you stammered, wondering if she’d say you were too old, at 20 years old, to get drafted

“I know” was all she responded

“Yeah...” you continued, rolling your eyes when she didn’t say anything more, “well, would you?”

“Would I what?”

“(Y/N)...” you laughed, “would you ever move there? like if I got drafted, would yo--”

“Would I go with you?” she interrupted, finally understanding your point, “would you want me to?”

“Well... yeah. I mean, if you wanted to. It would just be nice to have someone there... Who knew me, who knows me..” you stammered, keeping your head turned away from hers so you couldn’t see her reaction

“Of course I’d go with you,” you could hear the smile on her voice, “I love... watching you play” after that, the two of you worked tirelessly to find out when a scout would be in the area but you worried that your time had passed.

“FREDDIE!” your mom yelled for you as you sat outside

“Ma?” you called back, rushing into the house to see what was wrong

“THE DRAFT...” she screamed

“Mom, calm down,” you smiled, “what about the draft?”

“YOU GOT DRAFTED!!!!!!!!!!” (Y/N) screamed as she jumped on you, “OH MY GOD FREDDIE!!!” she peeled back to look at you, her arms wrapping around your neck, “YOU DID IT!”

“Wh-aat?” you laughed, swinging your body around to watch the TV, “where?”

“Anaheim!” your mom exclaimed and you took a deep breath, still not having set (Y/N) down

“Well, shi--” you started, before catching your mom’s glare, “I mean... I guess I’m going to California!”

“We’re so proud of you!” your parents smiled before walking over to you, enveloping you and (Y/N) together in a hug where you caught the scent of vanilla and coconut

“So...” (Y/N) whispered in your ear, “does the offer still stand?” you leaned back to see her smiling before you nodded in return. Before you knew it, you were packing up your life to get on a plane and head overseas. She lived with you for a while until she couldn’t handle the girls who kept circling in and out of your apartment; the two of you fought, she cried, you tried to fix it but both of you agreed it was better if you had some space between the two of you. You’d hope she would see that you only wanted her and that the other girls were just there to... keep you warm because the timing was never right with (Y/N). When she was single, you were with someone. When you were single, she was with someone. Seeing her happy with someone else made your heart ache so you found people that would help you waste your time and everything was going fine until (Y/N) met someone

“He’s from Canada,” she said, “Toronto. He’s an architect!”

“An architect? Wow” you said, a bit in shock

“Yeah,” she continued, “we’ve actually been seeing each other for a while now but he’s just been flying back and forth and I don’t think that’s fair. He says he doesn’t mind because he likes to see me, he says it’s the best part of his day actually,” her smile lightened her rambling but you still weren’t sure where she was going with this. “Anyway,” she sighed, “he’s asked me to... move there. With him”

“Oh” you chuckled, thinking she’d said no. She moved to Anaheim with you, for you. She wouldn’t just leave you, would she?

“And I said I would...” your eyes went wide as the words left her lips before you dropped your head. “It’s not like I’m forgetting about you,” she giggled, “or like I’m leaving you behind. I’ll still talk to you everyday and we’ll call and FaceTime and text and nothing will change”

“Except you won’t be here” you scoffed, smiling pathetically to yourself before slumping onto the couch

“I know, Freddie,” she sighed, sitting next to you and rubbing your back soothingly, “but let’s face it, our schedules are so different as it is. We barely see each other, I mean you didn’t even realize I was dating someone”

“I’ve been busy!” you challenged

“I know,” she chuckled, “I know, but that’s the point. I came here for you and I’m so happy that you asked me to come with you and I’m so happy that I’ve been here for you”

“So why leave?” you argued

“Because I love this guy!” she exclaimed, “and I don’t know how much longer I can wait around for you to come home so we can finally hang out”

“FINE!” you said out of pure anger, standing up suddenly

“Freddie, please,” she said quietly, remaining seated as you paced around the room, “I know this isn’t what either of us expected to happen but it did. I’d be stupid not to see this through.”

“No, you’re right,” you agreed, bitterness on your tone, “but what if we never see each other again?”

“Of course we’ll see each other again! Freddie our parents are best friends!”

“I guess, I just mean...”

“I promise we’ll see each other” she smiled, finally standing up to place her hand on your cheek. You knew she meant it but, as so often happens, time got away from the two of you and space got in the way. That is, until you got traded to the Maple Leafs

“Looks like I’ll be coming out your way” you texted her as soon as you got the news

“What do you mean?” she sent back and you assumed she hadn’t seen the announcement

“I got traded... I’m coming to Toronto!”

Incoming call from (Y/N)

“Hey” you greeted

“YOU’RE COMING HERE!” she exclaimed, screaming through the phone

“It looks that way!” you smiled to yourself

“OH MY GOD!!”

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, “calm down before you break my eardrums!”

“I’m sorry,” she giggled and you could imagine her bright smile on the other end of the phone, “I’m just so excited to see you”

“Me too” you confessed

“I miss you.”

It seemed like as soon as you moved to Toronto, things with Seth changed. Like the magic somehow disappeared and you two were just ships passing in the night. You two were only together there for about two months before he said he couldn’t do it anymore and you were left to find somewhere to live on your own; staying in hostels until an affordable apartment was available. You were miserable and you hated yourself for leaving the only safe place you had, with Freddie. A year passed and you were getting a little bit more comfortable in your new hometown, finding your own favourite spots and everything, when you got a random text from Freddie

“Looks like I’ll be coming out your way” he sent and you furrowed your brow

“What do you mean?”

“I got traded... I’m coming to Toronto!” he replied and you couldn’t believe it. You had been in such a slump that you hadn’t been focusing on the Hockey world even though you made sure to follow Fred’s games, so you completely missed hearing about this trade. You weren’t sure about how he felt about it because he had made connections in Anaheim and moving to another city, again, was a lot to handle but that didn’t mean you weren’t happy that you would be able to see him again; to be around him and feel him near you.

“YOU’RE COMING HERE?!” you yelled as soon as he picked up the phone

“It looks that way!” he replied and you could hear the smirk on his face coming through. Oh how you missed that smirk

“OH MY GOD!” you yelled once more, bouncing around at the idea of seeing your best friend again

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “calm down before you break my eardrums!”

“I’m sorry,” you laughed before inhaling calmly, “I’m just so excited to see you”

“Me too” he said and your heart just about broke. You had always wished he’d say that he felt about you the way that you’d felt about him, that the love you had for him was reciprocated but you’d learned that holding your breath and waiting for him was as worthless a pursuit as ever

“I miss you” you confessed, hoping he’d say it back but hung your head when he only mumbled something under his breath. You waited patiently for him at the airport, clutching the sign you’d made for him; his name in bold letters covered in glitter that you’d knew would embarrass him. “FREDDIE!!!!” you shouted when you saw him, running to him to jump on him like you did that day in Denmark, dropping your sign in the process

“HEY!” he exclaimed, dropping his bags to wrap his arms around you, “it’s so good to see you. I’m so happy you’re here!”

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” you smiled, keeping your legs tightly wrapped around his hips, “I thought I’d never get to hug you again”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he laughed, “and if I do, I’m takin’ you with me”

“Good”

“So...” he sighed, putting you down gently and grabbing his bags, “where’s Seth?” His question made you realize you hadn’t told him about the breakup

“Oh... right. We didn’t last,” you admitted, opening the car door as Freddie chucked his bags in the trunk, “lasted about two weeks.”

“What?!” he returned as he slammed the trunk

“Yeah.. he couldn’t deal so we ended things. But it was for the best...” you admitted

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked as he got into the passenger seat of your small car

“I didn’t wanna bother you” you sighed

“You can always bother me” he confessed and you squeezed his hand with yours before smiling softly at him

“Thank you” you almost whispered and, just like that, the two of you picked up where you left off. Time went on, he had some bad games, the media tore him apart and you tried to be there for him but he yelled at you or whined that everything was falling apart; you told him to stop being so grumpy but he only growled in return. Everyday, it got a little harder to be with him without actually being with him. You were torturing yourself but you couldn’t stop yourself.

Freddie’s P.O.V

When Auston suggested you go to Arizona with him while everything was locked down, you asked if (Y/N) wanted to go with you

“I can’t go with you, Freddie” she laughed

“Why not?”

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt... guy time” she joked

“So you’re just gonna stay here? Alone?” you scoffed

“Yes,” she admitted, “I have to work anyway. You’ll be back soon enough, I’m sure”

“Yeah, maybe...” you sighed. Lockdown ended, the qualifiers started, the team didn’t make it through, rumours began to circulate and your relationship with (Y/N) was starting to fray again. You knew you would wait until she was ready, you’d wait a hundred years if you had to, but you needed to at least keep her close -- for fear that she might find another Seth. “Just move in here,” you insisted after finding out her lease was up just before Christmas, “I don’t think you’re gonna find a place during this pandemic”

“I can’t move in here”

“And why not?” you chuckled

“I’ve lived with you before. I can’t really deal with the carousal of girls...”

“There’s not a carousal of girls” you argued

“There was in Anaheim” she scoffed

“It’s different here. I’m different”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then... you move out. No big deal...”

“Why do you want me to move in?” she asked and you took a minute to think about your answer. Why did you want her to move in? So you could muster up enough courage to tell her you loved her. So she would finally realize her own feelings for you. So the two of you could finally be together the way you should’ve been a long time ago.

“You’re my best friend” you finally said and it seemed to be enough. New Year’s passed and training camp started and neither of you had admitted any kind of feelings but her smile still made you weak.

“Carla’s getting married in secret” she laughed, explaining how her friend from work hated the restrictions so much she was gathering a bunch of friends and family in the park for a ‘spur of the moment’ wedding

“Is it really spur of the moment if she’s planning it?” you teased

“Yes” she giggled

“Okay” you laughed in response, watching as her eyes lit up as she talked about the details

“So are you in?” you heard her ask

“Hmm?” was all you could say since you had completely lost yourself in her

“You’re gonna be my date, aren’t you? For the wedding?”

“Uhh.. I don’t know,” you stammered, “when is it?”

“I don’t know...” she huffed, “this weekend probably?” You could tell she was upset that you didn’t just agree to go, especially after she was so excited about it. Why couldn’t you just say, of course I’ll be your date!

“I--”

“I don’t wanna make you go if you don’t wanna go. Don’t feel like you have to, Freddie, just because I asked. You don’t owe me anything”

“(Y/N), I want to. Of course I’ll go with you. I’m in!”

“You are?” she questioned, clearly unsure of your answer

“Always.”

April was a beautiful time to get married. In the park, as the grass was getting greener, as the birds sang in the trees high above and the sound of wind rustling through the trees was the only sound you could hear.

“You look beautiful by the way” Freddie whispered to you while you sat, waiting for your friend to walk down the make-shift aisle she’d set up. You blushed at Freddie’s compliment before nudging his shoulder with yours and thanking him

“You don’t look so bad yourself” you smiled

“Why thank you!” he teased

“Oh! Here we go” you exclaimed when the music began and Carla made her way to her soon-to-be husband. “She looks beautiful”

“Are you crying already?” Freddie laughed

“No... shut up” you scoffed as you admitted that you were, indeed, crying; you couldn’t help it, it was all so beautiful. Once the ceremony was done and they were officially married, Carla and her now husband, Clinton, invited everyone to their house for drinks and appetizers — their reception.

“She’s trying to get us arrested” Freddie joked, referring to the quarantine rules that had to be reinforced the week prior

“She wants to see how many of us will fit in a cell for sure” you added

“As long as we manage to get drunk before they arrest us,” he smiled, “otherwise, it’s all for nothing.” The were no calls, no complaints, and the small group was allowed to celebrate as long and as loud as you wanted. You all did the obligatory chicken dance and cha-cha slide to really hone in on the ‘wedding vibes’ before eventually moving to slow dances. “Dance with me?” Freddie smiled at you with his hand palm up in front of you

“I thought you’d never ask” you giggled, taking his hand and following him onto the open space that was being used as a dance floor

“What I’ve been living for...” the song played in the background as you swayed with Freddie, pulling back to look at him once before he smiled at you.

“What?” He chuckled

“You’re just... I missed this” you hesitated

“Have we danced at a wedding together before?” He joked, earning a playful scoff from you

“I meant I miss us” you admitted, dropping your head onto his chest

“I never went anywhere,” he said with a bite to his words, “you did.”

“Freddie...” you furrowed your brow as you lifted your head off his chest, shaking your head as his hands moved away from you, “I didn’t... it’s not like that. I gave you—”

“You gave me space. I didn’t need space, I didn’t want space” he sneered and you awkwardly smiled at the faces around you before pulling his arm

“This is not the place for this”

“You left, not me. You’re the one who stopped us from... having time together”

“What?” you huffed, shaking your head in confusion, “I didn’t want to give you space, Fred, but you never did anything! You were so focused on Hockey and the life that you made in Anaheim that it didn’t matter how much I was there, you didn’t have time for me. I got the message. I found someone and, yes, I left to try to make it work with him. It didn’t. And now you’re here, and you’re arguing with me because of... what?”

“What do you mean I never did anything??” it was all he focused on and you could only laugh in response

“I gave you every chance to do something. I moved across the world for you and you never did anything”

“NEITHER DID YOU!” he yelled, veins beginning to pop out of his neck

“I WANTED YOU TO DO SOMETHING FIRST!”

“WHY?!?!”

“BECAUSE I DIDN’T KNOW HOW YOU FELT AND I DIDN’T WANT TO EMBARRASS MYSELF OR RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP!”

“YEAH WELL... I DIDN’T KNOW THAT” he yelled before clearing his throat and calming himself down. “How ‘bout I tell you now?” he said softly as you trained your eyes on his face, “your smile is the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I see when I go to sleep. The smell of your shampoo and your body lotion mix together and I can smell coconut and vanilla for weeks on end without it being anywhere close to me. I hated seeing you with... anyone else because you weren’t with me but I wanted you to be happy. I don’t know how long I’ve loved you but I know that I’m not the same without you. Without you around. Without you with me, near me, beside me, sharing everything with me, dancing with me, laughing with me. You have no idea how many times I wish I would’ve done something sooner, taken charge of my feelings and just told you how I felt — because I should’ve — but I was scared. I just hoped that you’d say it first so that I could hug you and kiss you and finally call you mine” he finally finished his proclamation and you were left completely speechless. “So...” he smirked, having just laid his heart out in front of you, “what do you have to say?”

“I’m not a possession...” you mumbled

“What?”

“I didn’t know you could be so sweet,” you smiled, feeling a warmness in your chest, “I mean I knew you were a big teddy bear but I didn’t know you could be... this sweet” you repeated. “I love you, too, Freddie. I don’t know for how long either but I know that hearing what you said just now, after all this time, was exactly what I needed to tell you how much I love you. How whenever I hear your voice, my heart melts and my body buzzes or how whenever I see your smile I mentally take as many pictures as I can because I don’t know when you’ll let me see it again willingly. I tried to replace you with other people because I never thought you’d ever want me but now here you are, in front of me, saying the sweetest words I’ve ever heard and I’ve never loved you more” you took a breath and waited for him to say something else when you noticed the corners of his lips turn up into a smile before he walked toward you

“I love you” he placed his hands on the sides of your neck, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks before he leaned down and connected his lips to yours; finally, was all you could think.

“I love you, too” you smiled when he finally broke the kiss, trailing your hands up his arms to rest them on his shoulders. “I can’t believe it took you two continents, three countries and 22 years to do something”

“Guess I just needed a push” he whispered against your lips as he moved to pick you up, wrapping his arms under your butt and bringing your chest as close to him as possible

“I guess so” you whispered back, your hands lingering on his neck until your fingers found his hair, “better late than never.”

#Frederik Andersen #Freddie Andersen #Frederik Andersen request #Frederik Andersen fic #Frederik Andersen imagine #Frederik Andersen prompt #Frederik Andersen song prompt #Freddie Andersen request #Freddie Andersen fic #Freddie Andersen imagine #Freddie Andersen prompt #Freddie Andersen song prompt #song prompt request #song prompt #request #the non-hockey masterlist #the other masterlist #the song prompt masterlist

43 notes · View notes

songtoyou · 3 years

Text

PRomance - Part Three

Paring: Chris Evans x Famous Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,412

Warnings: Some swearing and mention of COVID-19

Description: Chris needs some good press. He convinces one of his closest friends to partake in a PRomance.

A/N: It has been, what, 84 years since I updated this story. I apologize. Like everyone, last year was tough. It was hard to find motivation to write. Hopefully, it won’t take me as long to update, but I can’t make any promises since I do have other fics that also need my attention.

I do not permit my work to be to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @ccolz88-blog @katiew1973 @inlovewith3 @thevelvetseries @syms-things-5

When the paparazzi’s Valentine’s Day pictures of you and Chris were released to the media, everything was surprisingly calm. No major freak-outs. No major firestorms. The media was ecstatic at the prospect of a new celebrity couple they could fawn over. The fans of both stars appeared to rejoice at the pairing. Yes, some fans were upset and already pegged it as a PR relationship. But from what Megan had seen online, the overall consensus was that people were happy for you and Chris. It helped divert any negative attention Chris was getting for ASP.

Unfortunately, COVID-19 occurred, and the whole world seemed to stop. It was a crazy and scary time for everyone. Chris chose to quarantine in Massachusetts while you remained in Los Angeles to continue filming your daytime talk show. No longer were you filming the show on a sound stage, but now in your own home. Your crew had helped set up a special room in your home where you could film the show. It was a big adjustment. Especially since the show was in its first season.

You and Chris made sure to continue to keep the PRomance going during that time but kept it quiet and did not blast it everywhere. Which was easy since neither of you could go anywhere.

Once in a while, you both would appear on each other’s Instagram page, but it was sparingly. It was important to keep things minimal and not overblown.

The PRomance was only something to be brought up when you or Chris needed a PR boost. First-round went to Chris.

The second round would go to you. The show had been nominated for a Daytime Emmy Award, and a PR boost was needed to keep you in the news. Thankfully, it helped that Ellen DeGeneres was going through a scandal about certain behaviors behind the scenes. This had already given you a nice PR boost about people wanting you to take over Ellen’s spot as daytime’s new queen. However, you knew that was not enough.

You knew it was a risk asking Chris to travel during COVID, but thankfully, he agreed. He promised he would take extra precautions when traveling. Plus, Chris had already planned on traveling to L.A. to help Scott move out of his boyfriend’s apartment. In fact, it was one of Scott’s neighbors who snapped a picture of you and Chris moving boxes from the apartment, which quickly spread throughout social media. It was a nice reminder for fans and the media to view it as you two still together.

Of course, Scott knew the truth. “I love you both very much, but I neither of you can bullshit this bullshitter,” he said to Chris while you were outside arranging the boxes in the moving truck. “Now, I’m not judging either of you. I understand the Hollywood game. I simply worry about people like Mom, Carly, and Shanna getting too attached to the idea of you two dating. What’s going to happen when all this is over, huh? Hearts are going to be broken in this situation. It’s bound to happen. Someone is going to get hurt.”

“No one is going to get hurt. When the time is appropriate, I’ll explain everything to Ma, okay. She’ll understand. Carly and Shanna will understand as well,” Chris explained to his little brother, but Scott wasn’t so sure.

Scott spoke your name and asked about you. “What about her?” Chris asked, confused at where Scott was getting at.

He looked around to make sure that you weren’t nearby and said, “Chris…how can I put this lightly, but this whole PRomance is not going to end well. I just have this feeling that one of you will get hurt. If I were to place a bet, then it would on the woman outside taking the time to help me move. She is my friend too, and I don’t want to see her get hurt just because you need some PR everyone in a while to make sure people realize that you are still around since you are no longer Captain America.”

Chris was stunned by Scott’s words. “Wow. That was pretty fucking harsh.”

Scott sighed. “I…okay, that last part was fucking rude of me to say. I’m sorry. But the rest I stand by. Don’t fuck this up, Chris.” And with that, Scott walked out of the apartment and joined you in the truck.

Later that week, you and Chris would have your second official PRomance outing. It would be simple: a walk in the park.

In truth, neither wanted to stay behind to help Scott unpack his things at Chris’s house.

As Chris remembers, he held your hand “waffle style” and led you to an area on the grace that looked secluded.

“I’m tired,” Chris said, yawning and covering his eyes with his arm. You laid down next to him, keeping a good distance between each other.

“I’m tired too. I miss being around people, Chris. I’m miss doing the show in front of a live audience. It is not the same filming at home. I’m sick of Zoom,” you ranted. Lately, everything was upsetting you. It was a depressing time for everyone. But you knew that you were fortunate to still be able to do what you loved to do: entertaining people. You still had your home and a steady income. While others were not as lucky.

“I fucking hate Zoom. It makes everything so awkward,” Chris replied, and he turned his body towards you. He took off his mask since there were no other people around. You did the same.

He reached his arm towards you and began to stroke your hair. Without thinking too much, you scooted over to him and nestled under his arm. You laid your head on his chest while he continued to stroke your hair. It felt nice being close to someone. That is what you both were missing during these times, the closeness with other people. Affection. Intimacy.

You both stayed like that for a while. Neither knew how long time passed until Chris felt buzzing in his pants. It was his phone, and most likely Scott calling him.

“Scott?” you confirmed, looking up at Chris.

He reached for his phone, and low and behold, it was Scott texting that he needed help.

“We should get back, or else nothing is going to get unpacked,” said Chris with a sigh. It had been a week since Scott moved into his home and still had boxes everywhere.

“Give him a break. He is going through a breakup. It is the worst time to go through a breakup. Scott needs our support. Come on, get up,” you uttered, getting up and brushing the grass off of your clothes. You grabbed Chris’s arm and pulled him as well.

“We should stop by the liquor store and pick up some pizza on the way back,” you suggested to Chris as you both walked back to his car.

When you both made it back to Chris’s house, Scott was crying on the couch watching the ‘Notebook.’

“No!” you yelled out. “Not the ‘Notebook,’ Scott. That doesn’t help anyone.”

“I’m in mourning! Don’t judge me!” Scott yelled back. “Is that pizza?”

“You get pizza if you turn off the movie. Come on, we are going to skip the ‘Notebook’ phase of the breakup. Let’s move on to the ‘Steel Magnolias’ phase, which is a much better phase. We’ll still cry but also laugh.”

“I vote for ‘Steel Magnolias’ phase too,’ Chris piped in the pizza boxes on the kitchen counter and got out the blender. “I’ll make the margaritas.”

The park pictures were met with mixed emotions from the media and fans. One side found the pictures adorable. The other side was upset that you two were out walking the streets during these trying times. Unfortunately, it appeared that the critical side was louder this time around.

Thankfully, the negative press didn’t hinder you from winning your first Daytime Emmy Award for Outstanding Entertainment Talk Show Host. By July, and after a long time of delays, A Starting Point was finally launched to decent reviews. Chris was happy. You were happy. Neither of you knew where to go from there. Would the PRomance come to an end? Was it still needed since both of you got what you wanted out of the arrangement? Or was it something you both were willing to still put on?

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

35 notes · View notes

unloved-cadillac · 3 years

Text

Crown Jewels. Part One.

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌: 4.6𝗄

C/n: italics mean that it is said in Hindi. Part two tomorrow. Enjoy.

Back in 1807 India, there lived a family called the Ackerman. They were born with inhuman strength and strong intuition that many envied. The Ackermans were ones of pure luck in life. Gold, money, silk, food that tasted like they were made in heaven. They were the high class royals of India.

The whole of India adored them. They were blessed in appearance, their skin smooth and eyes of blue jewels. Some say that the Ackerman bloodline held good luck in them meaning that if you were to marry an Ackerman, your life will be filled with riches for generations.

Since there was such a high demand in trying to wed an Ackerman, the first son of the fourth Raja was the one many were after. Levi Ackerman. He was the epitome of a prince and every girl's dream man. They would throw themselves at him, fathers of daughters would beg him to marry them but he always said no.

He knew all that they wanted was to live in the palace and have his family’s money and name, earning a place on the highest setting of hierarchy in society. Levi was young. A mere age of 24. He had no intention of marriage or family. His brother would carry the name for all he cared. Farlan looked a bit different from Levi. Instead of onyx hair, he had a beautiful shade of caramel. He looked like his father whereas Levi looked like their mother. Needless to say, they both were wanted throughout the kingdom.

But Farlan was taken. His heart belonged to a girl who lived across the kingdom in a run down house by a farm. Isabel and Farlan met four years ago, when he and Levi took a ride to explore the further east of the kingdom ordered by their father. He wanted the both of them to know their home like the back of their hand if they were planning to rule it one day.

Isabel’s brother helped Farlan in tending to the horses and he saw how she worked. Hard and happy. He liked her fiery spirit and her broad smile that he hoped one day would be aimed at him. And it did. When Levi and Farlan were about to leave, Farlan kissed her and gave her his necklace and told her to keep it or sell it. But she kept it. Their mother told the two boys that there was no rush in getting married. “I want you two to find yourselves first. Explore, be free. Because once you settle down, your family comes first.” She told them and Farlan looked at Levi who gave him a knowing look.

Now, Farlan hoped to go and see her again since Levi was also going to see the ocean.

However, their father fell sick. The king had been poisoned by a server and was caught by Levi. “What did you give him?! Speak, servant!” Levi shouts and the servant whimpers. “Nectar of Gold.” He says and Levi raises an eyebrow. He was about to speak but Farlan beat him to it. “I know that poison. Cheap but not any less lethal. Where’d you get it?” He asks and the servant scoffs. “Answer us or my brother will have a fun time torturing you.” Farlan advises and the servant gasps. “I made it. It took me three years but I made it. I wanted to kill your trash of a father for what he did to my family.” The servant says angrily, his blood starting to boil. Farlan looked at Levi and then back the man. “What did he do?”

“He took our land. I had no source of income and because of it, we lost our house. My wife left me with my daughter and told me to get a job otherwise she will leave me for good. I had no choice.” The man explains and Levi sighs. “You lived in the west, didn’t you?” He asks and the man looks up and nods. “I’m sorry. The factories there were built so people like you could have jobs and learn how to make products. Why did you act so recklessly? If you waited-” “I COULDN'T WAIT! I HAD A FAMILY TO SUPPORT! MAYBE YOUR FATHER SHOULD HAVE WAITED!” The man shouts and breaks down into tears.

Levi shakes his head and wakes up. “Now look at what you’ve done. You ruined your life by attempting to murder the king. It’s over.” Levi says and tells the guard to lock the servant up.

“Levi. We should go see Papa.” Farlan says and Levi nods in agreement. They enter the main chambers to see their mother holding their father’s hand and the doctor checking his temperature. “He’s burning up.” The doctor says and puts a wet towel on the king's forehead. “Boys. What did you find out?” Kuchel asks and they explain the whole situation.

“Nectar of Gold? Levi. Farlan. Can I see you for a second?” The doctor says and escorts them outside the bedroom. “What is it?” Farlan asks and the doctor clears his throat. “Nectar of Gold is a cheap yet lethal poison. Farlan you know this. There is a cure. And it’s the form of leaves. It’s dried and crushed into a powder. There’s only one place here that I know of that sells it,” he says and begins to write on a page, “Go here. And tell them that I sent you. I know the owner. Pay him and come back. Quickly now. Go.” The doctor orders them and the brothers nod and go to the stables to their horses.

“Farlan! Levi!” A voice calls to them and they are met by their bodyguard. “Erwin. Heard of the news?” Farlan asks and Erwin nods. “I’m sorry. Your mother said that I should accompany you to the town. So whenever you’re ready, rajkumars.” He says and they mount their horses and ride out of their home and into the roads of Para.

Farlan led while Erwin and Levi were behind him. “So Levi. How’s the search for a wife going?” Erwin asks and Levi scoffs while Farlan snickers. “I can’t say because there was no search in the first place.” Levi groans and Erwin chuckles. “Fair enough. And what about you, Farlan? How’s Isabel?” He asks and Farlan stops dead in his tracks with Levi. He turns and faces Erwin. “How did you-” “I know everything, Farlan. But don’t worry. Only I do.” Erwin assured him and Farlan heaved a breath of relief. “You better not tell anyone. Otherwise I’m gonna have to kill you.” Farlan smugly says and Erwin smiles.

After half an hour, the three of them entered the town where everyone gawked at them. Girls screamed for the Ackerman brothers and many tried to catch their attention. Levi rolled his eyes but Farlan smiled and waved to them. Some fainted. Erwin also caught some attention and girls touched his horse and he smiled at them. But many were after Levi.

“Levi! Levi!” “Marry me!” “I’ll give up my virginity to you!”

Were some of the things that were said. Levi groans and Farlan laughs. “Oh come on, Levi. It’s more funny than anything else.” “But it’s annoying.” Levi says and Farlan pats his back. He looks ahead and stops. The place they arrived at was like a market. But there were houses above the market. It wasn't dirty but it wasn’t clean either. Levi’s nose wrinkled in disgusts. “We have to go on foot from here.” Farlan says and jumps off his horse. Erwin and Levi jump off too and Erwin takes the horses and keeps them in a nearby stable before coming back to the princes.

The three of them walked in between the two aisles as Farlan talked to the people around. Levi looked at the different trinkets that the tents held and the owners bowed and offered him to take things for free, which he humbly declined. “Farlan. Where’s this place anyway?” Levi asks and Farlan shows him the piece of paper with the destination name and a few directions on it. “Herbs and Tea. I think you’ll like this place.” Farlan jokes as Levi’s eyes widen slightly.

The day was hot as shit. So hot, Levi took off his scarf and kurta top. He wrapped the top around his waist and held his sword in his hand and the girls went crazy.

“Oh my god. What’s that noise?” Y/n asks as she looks out the bedroom window. “Words in town that the princes are here. Wanna go see?” Her sister, Nanaba tells her while fixing her top. “Nah. You know I hate those royals. Anyway I got to go and help Papa with the shop. You can go if you like. Take Laila with you.” Y/n tells her as she goes downstairs. “Papa! Where are you?” She calls out as she puts on her apron around her punjabi. “Here!” He shouts and she walks around the counter to see her father on the floor. “What are you doing?” Y/n asks, laughing slightly. “My coin fell under there. And my hand is too big to fit.” He says and she leans down and gets the coin. “This one?” She asks as she holds the coin in between her pointer and thumb. Her father laughs and kisses her forehead. “What would I do without you?” He asks rhetorically and Y/n wakes up. “I don’t know, honestly. Come on. We have to peel the fruit.” She says as she takes the freshly picked fruits and lays them on their table.

“My god. Are we there?” Levi asks and Farlan smiles. “Yeah. It’s the tent with the green cover over it.” Farlan says and points. Levi looks around and sees a little girl walk up to him. She had a pink shirt on with brown shorts and her black hair was all messed up. But she looked adorable. “Wevi?” She calls his name and he goes onto his knee, internally screaming at the dirt. “Yes, brat?” He asks and she giggles. She pulls out a flower from behind her back and gives it to him. He looks at it and takes it. It’s a little wilted but it’s the thought that counts. “Thank you.” He says and she smiles. “You’re wewcome.” Levi wakes up and ruffles her hair and goes back to Farlan and Erwin. The village is in awe of the first born prince and Farlan pats his shoulder.

Farlan and Levi walk up to the little shop while Erwin stands guard outside. Farlan looked around and cleared his throat. “Excuse me? Anyone here?” His kind voice rings through the shop and an old man wakes up from the floor. “Oh hello there. Sorry for the wait. Stupid cupboards need working on. How may I help you today?” He asks while putting on his glasses. Once he did and looked back up to the young gentlemen in front of him, he instantly recognized them. “Oh! Farlan Ackerman. And Levi Ackerman. Your majesty.” He bows and Farlan wakes him up. “Please. Just Farlan and Levi. We are in great need of your help, sir.” Farlan says kindly and the man nods. “Yes. Yes of course. One minute, Farlan.” He turns and looks around. “Y/N! Come here!” He screams for his daughter and Levi looks around as Farlan sorts it out. There were many teas here, all flavors that he hadn’t tried before. And it smelled divine. “Papa! What is it? I just got the leaves to boil and-” she walks in as she was setting her hair but stops immediately as soon as she sees the customers. Her and Levi’s eyes met and everything disappeared.

Something sparked. Something passed between them and they both felt it. “Y/n?” Y/n blinks and breaks eye contact with Levi and turns to her father. “The princes are in need of help.” He tells her and she nods. Y/n looked at Farlan who had a kind smile on his face. “Hello, Ms Y/n. I’m Farlan Ackerman. This is Levi. We need certain leaves that we know you store.” He tells her and she switches her gaze in between the brothers. But leaving her gaze a few seconds longer on the black haired one. “Y-Yes. Of course. What is it?” She asks and Farlan hands her the paper from earlier. She reads it with her father. Her and his eyes widen and Levi walks to stand next to his brother. “The king is sick from Nectar of Gold? An old poison.” The father says and Y/n nods. She looks up and sees Levi staring at her, making her a bit nervous. “Who’s your doctor?” She asks. “Doctor Akal.” Levi replies and her mouth parts slightly. “Akal?” Her father responds and Farlan nods. “He said that you would know him.” Y/n nods. “My uncle.”

“Y/n, go get the leaves from outside. It’s the fallen leaves under the mango tree.” Her father tells her and she nods and goes outside. As she goes, she feels a presence following her and she looks behind her to see Levi there. Levi stops and looks at her as she grabs a basket. She ignores him and begins to pick up the fallen leaves. As she does, she sees a pair of hands helping her and her eyes follow up the arms until they landed on his face. Y/n hesitates to pick up more but finally stops. “O-Oh. It’s okay. I can do it. Really.” She tells him and tries to stop him from continuing. But he doesn’t stop. Instead he picked up more and she furrowed her eyebrows. “Really, rajkumar. Let me do it.” She assures and grabs his wrists. She probably forgot that he was an Ackerman, a name that carried pure strength, because he lifted his hands and pulled her on top of him.

She gasps and her hair falls on him. Levi looks at her, with a stoic face and tucks her hair behind her ear. She quickly wakes up, takes the basket and goes back into the shop with a bright red blush on her face, leaving a cunning Levi behind smiling.

Y/n walks to the front of the shop and prepares the leaves for departure. Farlan talks with her father as she does and Levi follows shortly after. Farlan sees his brother dusts his shirt and sees Y/n look at Levi, a bit annoyed and flustered. “Levi!” Farlan calls to him and both Y/n and Levi look up. Levi spares a quick glance at Y/n then goes to Farlan. Y/n mumbles under her breath as she crushes the leaves in a pestle and mortar. Although Levi was talking to her father and Farlan, his gaze was fixed on the young woman. How her arms flexed, the sound of her bangles jingling, her face. Everything. He never felt like this before. This feeling was so foreign to him, but he welcomed it anyway.

Y/n felt his eyes on her. She hated it. First he pulls her into him like how a husband does to his wife when he plays with her. Y/n didn’t like royals. It’s just the whole situation of them having a power over others makes her a bit angry. Since she was the eldest daughter in her house her whole family wanted her to marry a man who had lots of money so she would have a better life than her parents to which she said, bullshit. She wanted to help her father run the business he built from scratch and hoped to stay with him and her sisters forever.

When the packaging is done, Y/n puts it in a bag and goes to Farlan. “It should work in about two hours. Just boil it and have him sip on it. He will be okay.” She assures Farlan and Levi. Farlan takes out his pouch of gold to pay, but Y/n’s dad stops him. “No. Please. I can’t accept your money. Just take care of your father. When he heals up, that’s enough pay for me.” He tells him and Farlan smiles. He takes out four pieces of gold and places them in the man’s hand. “Please accept it. It would mean a lot to my family.” Farlan charms the man and pushes the closed fist to the man’s chest. Y/n looks down and then back up to Levi, who was already looking at her. “Thank you, Y/n.” Levi says and holds out his hand to shake. The way he said her name, it poured out like honey. Y/n looks at him and then his hand. She sighs and takes his hand and shakes it. “You’re welcome.” She says and gives him a small smile. When he lets go, Farlan bids his farewell and walks outside but Levi takes a can of tea and places the cost of it in her hand. Y/n was about to say something but he left. “Y/n. Did something happen between you two?” Her father asks and she rolls her eyes. “No.”

When Erwin left to get the horses, Farlan looked at his brother who had a ghost of a smile on his face. “Did something happen between you and that girl?” Farlan asks. “Tch.” Was all that Levi said and mounted his horse and galloped back to the palace. “What’s with him?” Erwin asked and Farlan chuckles as he puts the antidote leaves in a satchel. “He met a girl.”

~~~~

After going back to the palace, Doctor Akal makes the tea and gives it to the king. Kuchel spoke with her boys but Levi’s mind was far gone. He couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n. She was so beautiful and she so effortlessly caught his attention. “Levi? Earth to Levi.” He snaps out of his daydream and looks to his mother. “Yes?” “You okay? You seem dazed. Do you have a fever?” Kuchel asks as she places her hand all around his face, feeling his temperature. He pushes her hands away gently. “I’m fine, Ma.” He says and she smiles. “Okay. If you say so. You both must be tired and hungry. They just prepared some food so make sure you eat before you sleep. I’ll fill you in on Papa later.” She tells them and they both take her leave.

Farlan sat next to Levi as he told him about the letter Isabel sent him. “She found a duck and named it Gulab. Honestly all she thinks about is food.” Farlan jokes and Levi hums in acknowledgement. He takes a sip of the tea he bought from Y/n and he almost faints. How was it that good?

“You good, bro?” Farlan asks and Levi nods. “Try the tea.” Levi tells him and Farlan takes his cup and smells it. He takes a sip and Farlan hums. “Whoa. This is really good. Where’d you get it?” He asks and Levi looks at him. “Y/n.” Levi simply says and Farlan laughs. “You like her!” Farlan chuckles and Levi tchs. He wakes up and goes to his room and Farlan looks at their dog who was salivating at the food in front of Farlan. “He didn’t deny it, Titan. Here.” Farlan gives Titan a piece of chicken.

When night fell, Levi laid on his bed and looked up at the ceiling. His mind was clouded with the images of Y/n. How could this girl, who doesn’t even know, have his heart racing the way that it did? “Alright. That settles it.” Levi says to himself and turns off his light. Not that he would sleep, he was too excited for tomorrow.

~~~~

After breakfast, Levi and Farlan waited to hear the news on their father. The last thing that they had heard was that he was fast asleep but his temperature returned to normal. Levi and Farlan chatted when the king entered the room. “Boys.” He says and Levi wakes up with Farlan. “Papa.” Farlan says and walks to him and gives him a strong, bear hug. “Oh! Farlan.” The king chuckles and Farlan pulls away. “We were so worried about you. Are you okay?” He asks and the ki ruffles Farlan’s hair. “Yes. Thanks to the both of you.” He says and looks at Levi who nodded. “Glad to see you’re up, old man.” Levi retorts and the king snickers. “Thank you, Levi. You both saved my life and I’m proud to call you my boys. And to return the favor, the both of you can ask me for whatever you want. Anything at all.” The kings tells them and Farlan and Levi give each other a look. Levi gave Farlan a curt nod and Farlan smiled. He turned and looked at his father.

“I want to get married.”

Farlan says and the king with Kuchel gasps softly. “Really?” The king asks and Farlan nods. “Okay. We need to send a notice to the kingdom and-“ “No, Papa. I have a girl already.” Farlan interrupts and the king tilts his head. “You have a girl?! Why didn’t you tell us?!” Kuchel pinches his ear making Farlan chuckle. “It’s not that big of a deal, Ma. But yes. She’s amazing and funny and kind. A little wild but tolerable. A pain but I wouldn’t prefer her any other way.” Farlan tells his parents about the girl who got his heart while Levi looked out the window. He had to see Y/n soon.

“So when can we meet this ‘Isabel’?” Kuchel asks with a smile. “Hopefully at the end of the week. I have to propose to her first. So I’m going to stay with her for this week. If that’s okay?” He looks to his father and he nods. “Come home with our daughter-in-law. Luckily, friday is Holi so she can come home and stay with us.” He says and puts a hand on Farlan’s shoulder. Levi smiled softly and walked to his brother. “Let’s go.” “You’re going too, Levi?” Kuchel asks and he shakes his head. “I’ll just drop him off. I got some other stuff I need to attend to.” He says a ghost of a smile fills his face.

“Where exactly are you going , Levi?” Farlan teasingly asks as he puts his belongings in the bags of his horse. “Don't make me say it, Farlan.” Levi responds and Farlan chuckles. “Alright. Don't scare her off.” He says, earning a glare from Levi. The duo rode out of their palace and Levi separated with Farlan at the road that led east. “See ya, Levi!” Farlan screams and Levi waves. “Bye.” Levi responds and turns back to ride to the girl who made some good ass tea.

~~~~

“Didi! Here’s the pots you asked for!” Nanaba says as she places them on the counter by Y/n. “Thanks, Nana.” Y/n says as she takes the pots and places them in the cupboards. “Did you meet any princes yesterday?” Nanaba asks as she leans against the counter, folding her arms. Y/n stops for a second and looks at her sister. “No.” Y/n simply says and Nanaba chuckles. “You suck at lying, Didi. Papa told me. You and that eldest Ackerman shared quite a look with each other or so I’ve been told.” Nanaba teases and Y/n groans. “Look, Nana. I’m not interested in him. Or anyone matter of fact. There’s so much things that I need to do and Papa needs help in running the shop. I can’t just leave here and run off to get married.” Y/n explains and sighs, placing her hands on the counter. Nanaba leans closer to her and slaps her arm. “I didn’t say anything about you being interested in him or marriage.” Nanaba winks at Y/n and she scoffs. Did she really fall for someone who she didn't even know? And a royal, nonetheless. Y/n took a pot and walked to the front of the shop. She had to prepare all of the celebratory powders and colours for Holi. as she lifts her head from the pot, she gasps.

“You?”

She says and Levi turns from where he was looking at the tea. “Me.” he responds and she sighs annoyingly. “What are you doing here?” she asks and Levi walks slowly towards her, while looking at various things. “You.” he says and looks at her. Y/n scoffs and continues to mix the colours. “What do you mean “me”?” she asks and he stands in front of her. “Exactly what it means. You.” Levi responds and he looks at the various coloured powders. Pink, blue, purple, yellow, green and red. “Preparing for Holi?” he asks and she lifts her head with a face that said ‘obviously’. He licked his lips and sat on a nearby chair while he watched her.

Silence fell upon the both of them. The only sounds that could be heard was the chatter of people from outside and the clanking of pots as Y/n moved it. She looked at Levi who looked around the shop and Y/n rolled her eyes. “Forgive me, rajkumar. I-” “Levi.” he cuts her off and she looks at him. “Call me Levi.” he says and she exhales a breath. “Levi. Why are you here? Is your dad still sick?” she asks him and he shakes his head. “No. as a matter of fact, he’s perfectly okay. Better actually. And it's all thanks to you.” Levi responds as he wakes up and stands in front of her. Y/n stepped back a little when he did, and he frowned at the action.

“Uh, I, it’s because of the leaves. I didn't do anything.” she says and he leans back up. “You did. You took the leaves, crushed it for us which we could’ve done by ourselves and told us what to do. You could have easily denied serving us but you didn't. And I'm grateful for that.” Levi replies and Y/n blinks, a bit dazed out by his voice. It was so smooth and deep and, now that he was so close to her, his skin was smooth like butter and it glowed. His face was so sculptured that you could tell that the gods above took special attention to him. Y/n stuttered over her words as he closed the distance between them. “I like the way you prepare the tea leaves, Y/n.” he whispers as his gaze jumps back and forth from her eyes to her lips. “Yeah?” she asks and he nods. As they both were about to lean towards each other, another party entered the room.

“Didi. Where’s the-oh.” Nanaba interferes and Y/n pushes Levi’s chest to put some distance between them. “What is it, Nana?” Y/n asks while Levi looks at Y/n, smirking a bit. “I just needed the cloth.” Nanaba saya and holds the cloth, waving it a little. She looks to Levi and bows. “Rajkumar.” she greets and Levi nods. “Hi.” he simply says back and Nanaba smiles at her sister. “I’ll just-yeah-uh, go? Yeah I’m going.” she stutters and winks at Y/n, who rolls her eyes. Levi chuckled and faced Y/n again. Her eyes meet him and she tilts her head. “What?” she asks and he shakes head. “Come with me.” he says, nonchalantly. “Huh? Where?” she asks and he tucks her hair behind her ear. “Serendipity.”

———————————————————————

“I was highly inspired by a shit ton of Hindi movies.”

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔:

>Raja: king.

>Rajkumar: prince.

>Gulab: an Indian sweetmeat. Super tasty.

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

24 notes · View notes