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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Permanent Chaos (1/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2.8k

Part Summary: Y/N is a newly famous actress from a popular TV show and she’s willing to do everything in her power to maintain her perfect image as “America’s Sweetheart.”

Masterlist

The limelight is a hard place to be under. It’s draining to constantly be on display. Day in and day out I feel as though I’m always looking into a mirror. However, a mirror is replaced by people’s eyes. I see myself through other’s eyes. Being sat on a slippery plastic stool while being watched by millions of Americans before they head off to work is an excellent way to start my day. Perhaps if I keep telling myself that I’ll eventually believe it. Savannah glances down at her cards then continues with the interview.

“Let’s go back to a year ago, if someone approached you and said “you’ll be the most sought after girl in America,” would you had believed them?”

I shake my head “not all.”

If only she knew how absent I am in the current moment. I’ve answered similar questions a million times these past few months. All the exact same questions within the same routine.

“Now, being as famous as you are, how do you cope with your newfound fame?”

There it is, famous. A better-sounding word than popular. After all, adult life is nothing like high school… right?

“I don’t particularly like the word “famous.” When people say “you’re famous!” What they really mean is “a lot of people know you!” At least people think they do.”

She studies me, intrigued by my honest answer, perhaps too honest. “You’re saying America doesn’t know the “real” you? Including your fans?”

I shrug, I can only imagine Nicole’s face right now. My usual bubbly and charmingly excited personality didn’t wake up with me at three this morning.

“I believe they know whatever version of me they’ve created. For some, I’m that girl from the cover of that one magazine they saw in line at the grocery store. For others, I may just a name without a face. That’s the thing about being so-called “famous.” I’ll never have the chance to meet every single person who has ever read an article about me or has seen paparazzi videos. They’ll only see those tainted versions of me. They’ll never have the opportunity to know me personally and make a valid judgment for themselves.”

Savannah hums, her eyebrows scrunched up. “How do you feel about that?”

I sigh, the words settling within me. “It’s disappointing.”

If only they all knew the truth, the reality of it all.

______________________________________________________

After the interview for the show, I fly straight back to Los Angeles from New York. My schedule has been worse, but I never miss the chance to complain to my manager. Thankfully, Nicole is a mother of tween girls and a ten-year-old boy so she knows how to take my childish whining. Once we’re landed in LAX I countdown the minutes until I can return to my bed.

“I don’t understand why you insist on wearing heels on the plane,” Nicole nags me.

“Because you never know who you’re gonna meet! Best to dress nicely just in case!”

It’s been a rule of mine since I first discovered my style and began to wear makeup, never go out in public without looking and feeling confident. I’ve learned that people can sense when others don’t feel confident and take advantage of that.

“I doubt your Mom would like it,” she nags.

“Well she’s not in California is she?” I fire back but snicker slightly.

My momma’s absence was bitter-sweet, in the beginning, now it’s all sweet. When we have our luggage, Nicole leads me through the airport to where the car is picking us up.

“You may want to put on your sunglasses now. We’re about to cross the line,” she warns.

I grab my glasses out of my purse like she instructed and slide them on. She was right, as soon as we cross over that taped line it’s a free-for-all for the paparazzi.

“Y/N!” “Y/N!”

“HEY! SHOW US A SMILE!”

The yelling doesn’t bother me as it used to in the past. Now, it’s the clicking. The clicking from their cameras. A constant *click* *click* *click*, from each of the thirty cameras. Nicole attempts to create a path for me by walking ahead.

“HOW WAS YOUR TRIP TO NEW YORK?”

“Good, thank you” I reply politely with a smile toward the tile floor.

I try to manage a balance when it comes to paparazzi. They have their job and so do I. Following me, taking pictures or videotaping me is their job. As long as they respect me, I will respect them. Nicole says it’s good for my image. My image wasn’t the first reason I was nice toward them, I was being myself. Nowadays, I’m hardly myself. I have my name, Y/N Voss, but it no longer feels like my name. The paparazzi are not used to getting easy responses out of people because there’s a long pause before the next question.

“WHEN DOES FILMING START BACK UP FOR THE SHOW?”

The question comes from a different voice but that doesn’t keep me from answering.

“In two days!” I gleam, looking forward to returning to set.

“CAN YOU GIVE ANY INFO ABOUT THE NEW SEASON?”

I chuckle a little but think it over. I agreed in my contract not to give out spoilers but there is a little info I was told I can let out. Plus, I’ve only seen the script for the first episode so I don’t know too much.

“I can say that Hollyn will have a bump start this season but no worries,” I answer vaguely but with interest.

Nicole and I manage to reach outside and she guides me down the sidewalk to where the car is supposed to pick us up.

“RUMOR HAS IT YOU’RE DATING SOMEONE! CARE TO COMMENT?”

“I’m very much single,” I laugh, finding the topic humorous. “Not enough hours in the day to share them!”

There are always rumors that I’m dating someone though none of it’s true.

“YOU LOOK GREAT TODAY Y/N!”

“YOU ALWAYS DO!”

“Thanks, boys!” I give my appreciation.

The driver gets out of the front and pops the trunk. Nicole informs me to get in the car and let her worry about our things along with the driver.

“WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR THE SUMMER?”

I open my door but pause to answer the last question. “Work, of course, but I also want to have some fun.”

“HAVE A GREAT SUMMER!”

“SEE YA LATER Y/N!”

They all hurry to get some last shots and I grant them a couple of seconds.

“You too! See you guys later!” I wave goodbye then climb into the car.

Nicole gets in a minute later and gives the driver the address. “You did great back there,” she compliments.

“Eh, it was nothing. I was only answering their questions.” I remove my glasses and get settled in as best as I can for the hour drive home.

She pulls out her binder full of scheduling material for me.

“Yes, but you were willing and kind. The public and media appreciate that! You’re becoming America’s Sweetheart!”

I would never admit it to Nicole but that title she keeps pushing makes me anxious every time I hear it. None of this was planned, it was thrown at me. Please don’t misunderstand me, I’m grateful for what I have but geez! When everyone is telling you a whole country adores you, how are you supposed to handle that? Especially at eighteen. It was no more than a year ago I was back in South Carolina and just another girl in high school. Now, I’m supposed to be “America’s Sweetheart.” I’ll play the part but it doesn’t make the job any less intimidating.

__________________________________________________________

My best friends/co-stars, Sam and Penelope, meet up with me for dinner to celebrate my first night back in town after the press tour. The three of us have been dividing our time around the country working on various projects between filming the show. Any time we can all get together is a gift.

Ever since I’ve known Sam Merka, girls flung themselves at him. Even I’ll say it, he’s a good-looking guy. If Grant Gustin had a younger brother, it would be Sam. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, we’re just friends. A sibling sort of bond. Since he’s eight years older than me, he likes a big brother.

Though Penelope is older too, one can’t tell since I tend to act more mature. I’m jealous of her sun-kissed long blonde hair and dark brown eyebrows. We all kinda got thrown into our friendship. Having to play life-long friends an hour after meeting for the first time was, to say the least interesting. Five years later, and we are like three peas in a pond. A mini family to have each other’s back in the big city.

For dinner, we agreed on The Nice Guy, an Italian place in West Hollywood. The most important aspect of the place is the amount of privacy it grants. The interior is a lounge, super lowkey, with booths, couches, and coffee tables but there are no photos allowed. Since no photos can be taken that means the three of us and others can enjoy ourselves in peace. Sam called dibs on being designated driver as per usual as the “bodyguard” for us girls. The paparazzi tend to hang out around the restaurant because it’s a well-known spot for celebrities.

“Maybe we can slip past them,” Sam says optimistically as we exit the car.

He meets me around the front and Penelope joins us after getting out of the backseat.

“HEY! HEY! HEY!”

From in front of the restaurant, a ripple of cameras begin to take notice of us.

“IT’S THE KIDS FROM THE SEASONS OF LIFE!”

“Yep, we really snuck past them!” I tease Sam playfully.

He huffs, annoyed with the situation. Sam loves his job but hates the lack of privacy aspect. He isn’t a fan of crowds either which I can understand. However, he’s great at masking it behind his charming smile. It’s what we were trained to do. Yet, Sam is better at managing a crowd mentally overall than I am. He understands how they affect me sometimes. The swarm of photographers rushes up to us. Sam leads the way toward the restaurant door. Penelope remains close, keeping a hand on my forearm to stay together. The cluster follows us down the sidewalk to the building.

“SAM! SAM! HEARD ABOUT THE GQ PHOTOSHOOT! CONGRATS ON GETTING THE COVER MAN!”

Sam chuckles next to me, “thanks, dude!”

“PENELOPE! RUMOR HAS IT YOU’LL BE SWITCHING OVER TO THE BIG SCREEN!”

“Exactly, it’s a rumor!” She replies a matter-of-factly.

The *click* *click* *click* and the flashing lights in the dead of night never fail to overwhelm me. Though, Nicole has told me I never appear overwhelmed when I interact with them. I force on the brave and confident face. I’m not me when I’m in front of cameras or important people, I’m Y/N Voss. I’m two very different people.

While I’m lost in thought, I get stuck when one photographer gets too close to my face with his camera and blinds me for a second. Sam and Penelope don’t notice my absence amongst the chaos until another photographer barks at the other to back off. Then, I feel Sam’s hand slip into mine and he protectively escorts me toward the door with determination.

“ANYTHING YOU TWO WANT TO SHARE ABOUT HOLLYN AND ELLIOT FOR NEXT SEASON?”

Hollyn and Elliot are Sam and my’s characters from The Seasons of Life, the show we star in together. Our characters have been on again off again for the past two seasons. According to the last season’s finale, the two are currently together, but of course, the season ended on a cliffhanger so their relationship isn’t very stable.

“Sorry guys, can’t share anything!” Sam answers, sounding a tad irritable.

“ANYTHING IN REAL LIFE? YOU TWO WERE BOTH IN NEW YORK THIS WEEKEND!”

“That’s true, but we never have the chance to meet up!” I reply nicely.

Press events for last season have come to an end and work officially begins in no time! Downtime for me is filming and it couldn’t come at a better time. I’ve missed being home in Los Angeles. Living out of a suitcase and sleeping each night on a plane isn’t the best way to live, at least for me. We finally reach the doors and I thank the heavens.

“Oh my gosh! There’s no way!” I hear what sounds like girls squealing and I slow down to see where it’s coming from. My hand slips from Sam’s as he goes on. When he’s determined to get away from the paparazzi, he can ignore the voices. Yet, when he notices that I do not follow he finally stops.

“Excuse me!” A girl calls amongst the clicking and shouting.

The paparazzi move aside a tad and create a path for me to see two young teens jumping up and down. They must be around fourteen I’m guessing, younger than me at least. I approach them to see what’s the matter. I can hardly see anything with all the bright lights.

“Hi! How are you?” I greet but once I get closer and cover my eyes with the flashing lights, I recognize them. “Sarah! Emma! How are you two?”

These two have been some of my biggest supports. They run a Youtube channel and create content about their reactions to episodes of the series. Somehow they manage to make appearances at any events relating to the show. I’ve met them numerous times at events, so have other members of the cast. Besides being two of the sweets girls in the world, they’ve created a fan page for me on Instagram and Twitter.

“Good, good!” Emma replies eagerly.

“It’s been so long since we last saw you!” Sarah adds.

“It really has! When was the last time we saw each other? During the press tour?”

They nod in unison as though they’ve rehearsed it.

“Well, group hug!” I hold out my arms and they gladly accept.

“Can we get a picture?” Emma practically begs, bouncing on her heels.

“Of course!” I take Emma’s phone and hold it out to the crowd of paparazzi. “Could one of you take our picture by chance?”

Many of the guys offer and I select a random one in front of me.

“Squeeze in tight!” I tell the girls as I stand between them and we wrap our arms around each other.

“One, two, three!” The man takes a couple of shots and hands, Emma, back her phone.

“Thank you!” The three of us say together.

We all hover over her phone to check out the pictures.

“So cute!” I awe at the photos.

“Y/N...” Sam places his hand on my back to usher me along.

“Oh, my-” Emma covers her mouth.

“Sam!” Sarah’s jaw is to the sidewalk.

“Hey girls!” he charmingly smiles.

He’s had the chance to meet them a few times while on the press tour and at other various events. I was there to introduce them which was one of the most entertaining moments of my life. I thought the girls were going to faint!

“Can we ask a quick question? It’s for our channel!” Sarah nervously bites her lower lip.

“Yeah, yeah, anything for you guys!” I answer without hesitation.

Sam wraps his arm around my waist while we’re talking to the girls and I don’t think much of it but the cameras begin to go nuts. The men behind them don’t say a word since we’re occupied but there they go *click* *click* click*.

“Is there any hope of you two getting together IRL?” Emma questions intently without hesitation.

I press my lips together with amusement and turn my head to Sam. He has the same look of pondering the question. He squints his eyes at me and then the two of us turn to the girls.

“Just friends,” we answer in unison.

“Best friends!” Sam adds playfully.

“Best friends forever ever!” I one-up him.

The two girls laugh with us, but it’s clear they’re a little disappointed.

“Well, I still bet on you two,” Sarah confidently points out.

Sam and I get a kick out of it. Our viewers want us together too.

“We better get going, our moms are waiting,” Emma informs us.

“Okay, quick hug!” I order and the four of us group hug.

We say our goodbyes and when the girls disappear the men behind the cameras start yelling.

“YOU’RE GREAT Y/N!”

“HOW DID YOU KNOW THEM?”

“Their names are Emma and Sarah. They run a popular Youtube channel, Twitter, and Instagram accounts for the show. Super sweet girls those two!”

“DO YOU KNOW ALL YOUR FANS?”

“I try to! I know a good amount!” I grin proudly.

Sam guides me into the restaurant and his hand never leaves my back. All of it is platonic of course, nothing more. As I told the paparazzi before, there isn’t enough time in my life for me to share any with someone.

________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @canyoubuymetoast

#machine gun kelly #mgk #mgk smut #fanfic #mgk fanfic #famous #colson baker #colson #mgk aesthetic

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scabopolis · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 600 followers!!!! How about Logan/Veronica and "Are you doubting my acting skills?" and/or any one of your 76 Danielle/Henry modern AUs?

Oh, Sarah, I’d do anything for you! I will eventually write a Danielle/Henry modern AU and it shall be dedicated to you, but for now, here is some Logan/Veronica friends to lovers inspired fake dating setup shenanigans.

--- Title: look at me like you like me Fandom: Veronica Mars Pairing: Logan/Veronica (side Wallace/Parker) Other Characters: Wallace, Parker, a frequent switching of tenses b/c this is barely edited. Additional Tags: Should be a multichapter probably, friends to lovers (or idiots to friends to lovers??), fake dating shenanigans, Wallace sees all and knows all Word Count: ~1,800 ---

Sitting at brunch, her plate piled high with pancakes, Veronica Mars wonders just how long her best-friend thought he could get away with this. Logan Echolls (said best-friend) is currently walking slowly back and forth in front of the restaurant as he talks on his phone. He isn’t speaking, which means his mother is in the middle of a persuasive monologue. And everyone at their table knows what that means.

“Charity gala?” Wallace asks.

“My money’s on a distant relative’s wedding,” Parker says.

“His parent’s anniversary is coming up,” Veronica says. “Could be their own party.”

“What will they celebrate?” Wallace asks. “Ten years of sleeping in separate rooms and ignoring one another’s affairs?”

“Regardless, I’m ready,” Parker says.

Okay. Apparently Veronica’s isn’t the only one thinking about Logan’s go-to family event strategy. “You think he’ll ask you?”

Parker frowns as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Why wouldn’t he?”

Veronica draws a line in the air, connecting Wallace and Parker. “Well, for one, you’re married now.”

“The people at these parties don’t know that,” Parker answers.

The woman has a point. Veronica turns to Wallace. “And you’re okay with this?”

“We’re living on two teacher’s salaries. If some wealthy man wants to be my wife’s platonic sugar daddy, who am I to stop him?”

“I wanted to buy a new dress for your brother’s graduation anyway,” Parker says.

“See! Perfect plan.” Wallace and Parker seal their agreement with a kiss and Veronica focuses on her pancakes. She cuts off a large bite with more force than strictly required and shovels the pancakes into her mouth.

She isn’t sure why this whole conversation needles her. Something about Parker’s certainty, Veronica supposes. That it is going to be Parker who Logan calls on. To be fair, Parker and Logan’s arrangement pre-dates Veronica’s friendship with either of them.

By the time Veronica met Parker their first year of grad school, Parker and Logan had been friends for four years. The pattern wherein Parker pretended to be Logan’s girlfriend at any and all society events his mother required him to attend was already well-established. Even after Veronica and Logan met, and it was quickly evident the two of them were destined to be platonic soulmates for the rest of their lives, it was still Parker that Logan turned to for help in these situations. Which, fair. Parker possesses levels of grace which Veronica can never hope to achieve.

Veronica is much more apt to give a Hollywood director in his fifties judgey facial expressions when he introduces her to his barely legal wife. (A real thing that happened at an Echolls family BBQ. At least it still makes Logan laugh all these years later.)

It just didn’t occur to Veronica that it would always be Parker. Especially now that Parker is married. What is going to happen when she and Wallace decide to have a baby? How will they prevent word of Logan Echolls’ pregnant girlfriend from making the tabloid rounds?

No. This is ridiculous.

“She’s definitely not listening,” Wallace says, disapprovingly.

“Some sort of fugue state?” Parker suggests.

“Could be.”

Veronica sighs. “What are you two talking about?”

“I wanted to know if it was all pancakes in general you seek to destroy, or if this one in particular had done something to upset you?”

Her first instinct is to glare at Wallace. And then at Parker when she sniggers. Introducing the two of them to one another is the worst decision she’s ever made. But then she looks down at her plate. Sure enough, at some point she traded in eating her pancakes for cutting them into smaller pieces and then smushing them into the maple syrup. They no longer resemble an edible object.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Sure,” Wallace says, taking a well-timed sip of his coffee. His expression is all smug and knowing.

Veronica is saved from additional Wallace stares and Parker sniggers by the return of Logan. He slides his phone into his blazer pocket and sits down beside Veronica, resting his arm on the back of Veronica’s chair. This is nothing new. Being best-friends with Logan means being comfortable with his rather tactile nature. But the look Logan’s action invites from Wallace is new. Veronica wants to spit at him. (Wallace. Not Logan.)

(Portrait of grace, indeed.)

“What happened here?” Logan asks, gesturing to Veronica’s pancakes.

“Nothing,” Veronica says. “What happened out there?”

Logan’s fingers still from where he is lightly tracing the contours of her shoulder. “My mom and dad are renewing their vows.”

For a moment all movement at their table ceases as they each take in this information. This despite Veronica's keen awareness of the fact that her guess was eerily close to being right.

“I’m sorry. What?” she asks.

“That was about my reaction,” Logan says. “Want my bacon?”

“Yes, please. They can’t be serious.”

Logan slides his slices of bacon onto Veronica’s plate. “Serious about drumming up some positive PR, absolutely. Aaron was spotted looking a little too friendly with a married co-star. So, he and mom are going on a romantic getaway to Italy. When they get back they’ll do a backyard vow renewal.”

“Logan—”

The man in question holds up a hand, stopping Parker’s softly spoken entreaty.

“No. I can’t do the talking about it thing right now. I can’t feel anything about it right now. What I need is a wedding date.”

“Of course,” Parker rushes to answer. “Just tell me when.”

“The weekend of June 11th.”

“Absolutely. Deal,” Parker says, nodding enthusiastically. “Consider it—,” she trails off, her gaze somewhere over Veronica’s shoulder.

“Consider it, what?” Logan asks.

“—Not something I can do.”

“Why not?”

“That’s graduation weekend,” Parker explains. “I’m the faculty speaker.”

“I’ll buy you shoes, too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Logan says. “This way I can get very drunk and not feel bad about it.”

Logan’s arm returns to the back of Veronica’s chair. This time his hand sort of hangs over her shoulder and curls around towards her clavicle. It makes it impossible to ignore details about Logan’s hands — the surprising delicacy of his fingers, the length of them, the weird knot on one of his knuckles.

“I’ll do it,” Veronica says.

“Do what?” Logan asks.

“Be your fake girlfriend for the sham vow renewal. I can do it.”

She refuses to look at anyone at the table. Not Parker. Sure as hell not Wallace.

(Seriously. Does he know something? Was it that night they all played King’s Cup and the two of them stayed up talking until 3:00 AM? Did she say something she wasn’t supposed to?)

And absolutely not Logan. She scrapes the edges of the smushed pancake with the tines of her fork.

“Veronica.” Logan’s voice is soft, but she detects a hint of incredulity. Which, maybe she’s wrong and he isn’t her best-friend and he doesn’t know her very well, because it raises her hackles.

She drops her fork. “What? Why not?”

“Look, I love you. You know I love you.” Veronica ignores the little skitter of her pulse at Logan’s words, furrows her brow, and concentrates on being offended. “And you know me better than anyone.”

“But?” She prompts.

“But,” he says, “you don’t really—”

Before Logan can finish, she comes up with a dozen ways to complete the sentence. There is plenty she doesn’t have —the class, the patience, the height, the sweetness, the glamor, the—

“—look at me like you like me,” Logan finishes.

“Wait. What?” Veronica’s eyes dart from Logan to Wallace to Parker. Neither one of them appear surprised by Logan’s words. In fact, Parker is faintly nodding in agreement. “Of course I like you. You’re my favorite person.” She thinks about this. “When you’re not being a total asshole.”

“I know that. But, your face makes it look like you want to slap me most of the time.”

“Because I do.”

“It’s just not the most conducive to convincing my mother to not set me up with the daughter of whichever producer she is trying to impress.”

“I’ll change my face.”

“Change it?”

“I can look like I like you.”

“Really?”

“I’ve been in love before, you know.” Veronica’s hackles are now standing at full attention. “Are you doubting my acting skills?”

“I would never,” Logan says.

“Good. Because I could be the sweetest goddamned fake girlfriend you’ve ever had.” Veronica turns to Parker. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“I’ll even use pet names. Schmoopsie. Snuggle muffin. Sweet cheeks. What’s your preference?”

“My preference is none of them.”

Still, despite his words, Logan seems to consider it. Veronica takes the time to nibble on one of the slices of bacon from Logan’s plate. If she isn’t mistaken, Parker and Wallace kept shooting each other, what they probably believe to be, covert glances. What are those glances supposed to mean? Does Parker know something too? Damned married couples with their telling each other things.

“My mom does love you,” Logan eventually says.

“See, I already have a leg up,” Veronica says. “And I can absolutely rock a floor length gown.”

“Can you?”

“I was on homecoming court senior year.”

“You were?” She’s not certain which of the voices speaking in unison sound more shocked, Logan’s or Parker’s, but regardless she is deeply offended. She’ll look classy and hot as hell and that will show them.

“Yeah,” Wallace says, “Keith still has the picture hanging up in his house. It’s hilarious.” Veronica glares at him. “Hilarious, because of how great you look. Obviously.”

“I don’t want to make you do this,” Logan says.

Veronica doesn’t have time to question why he would make Parker do this but for some reason wants to spare her.

“Hey.” She reaches up for the hand still draped over her shoulder and laces their fingers together. Logan looks down at her. His eyes are all soft and heavy lidded; like they sometimes get when he’s sleepy.

(She’s also noticed they can kind of look like that when she’s ranting about a coworker. Or, that one time she helped her dad install a fence and came over to Logan’s place after. Her hands were full of splinters and Logan was so careful and gentle, removing each one with a very expensive pair of tweezers.)

“This is going to suck. Isn’t it?” she asks.

He nods. “Yeah. I think it will.”

“Then let me be there for you.” He doesn’t say anything. “I’ll work on my face. Promise.”

That gets him to crack a smile. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Then great.”

“Great.”

“Did I just get replaced?” Parker asks.

Veronica shrugs. “I like nice shoes too, you know.”

Logan gives her hand a squeeze.

Oh. Look at that. She didn’t even notice they were still holding hands.

#vm fanfic #lv fanfic #veronica mars #logan echolls #logan x veronica #p: logan x veronica #otp: the one person #lavellenchanted #never stories

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

Text

GF - Mystery Twins: Not Freaking Out

A new AU inspired by Mystery Skulls…

AO3 link

Ch.1

~~~~~~~~~~

April 6th, 1972

“What?! Stanford, tell him he’s crazy!”

But Ford glanced down at his navy-blue pamphlet, wincing, and closed the curtains, purposely keeping his eyes off his brother.

“Stanford? Don’t leave me hanging?” Stanley croaked. “High six?”

And the door was slammed in his face by his father’s hand, deaf to the wails of his nephew and the choked sobs from his mother.

Stanley growled in his throat. “Fine! I can make it on my own! I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone! I’ll make millions and you’re RUE the day you turned your back on me!”

~~~~~~~~~~

May 14th, 1976

Fiddleford had insisted that he and Stanford go out to celebrate their upcoming graduation. In a few days they would no longer be students, ready to use what they learned out in the real world. Stanford was reluctant, but agreed. What were the odds anything outside of a few drinks and some good food would occur? Stanford had a lot to drink for and it did seem like he never left campus for some typical college fun, so he took a shot and then stuck to some cozy beer and some onion rings.

After fleeing Columbia prison with a gang, and then weaseling his way out of that mess in New Mexico, Stanley had been apprehensive about trying to make it big in southern California, not knowing much about Stanford’s new life, but he did know that’s where he was going to college; Moses bless Ma and her phone calls. But what were the odds Stanley would ever run into his brother? He needed the money so he took the shot.

At first, Stanford thought it was his imagination and he nearly choked on his beer while Fiddleford was busy talking to a guy who was also from Tennessee. A second, longer look confirmed his fears and Stanford saw his long-lost family member exit the bar, leaving behind a small table with a few empty beers on it to smoke.

With Stanley’s back to him, Stanford studied him through the glass. His hair was a bit longer than how he kept it in high-school and it wasn’t slick back tonight; probably from holding his head so much. From what Stanford had seen before Stanley had leaned against the window, his face wasn’t as round and youthful as it was four years ago; he had grown a square jaw like Pa’s. Like Stanford’s. His skin was rough and scraggly, unlike Stanford who was clean-shaved, and he wore work boots, dirty jeans, and a worn white t-shirt. Stanley Pines looked rough around the edges, but when he re-entered the bar Stanford saw that spark in his brown eyes that guaranteed a heart made of plastic gold and a promise to protect the things he cares about.

Stanford wanted to be angry. He wanted to shake his rage, punch the jerk in the face, and leave for campus. But he couldn’t. He was too relieved to see his brother alive and a very very small part of him had missed him like crazy these last four years. He wasn’t quite ready to forgive Stanley for what he did, but maybe if he was ready to apologize, Stanford could be ready.

Stanley’s eyes landed on Stanford on his way to his table and he froze like a statue and paled three sheets. Stanford wondered if Stanley would pass out and he could feel himself turn red with embarrassment. He bit his lip and tried to move his own eyes to the six-fingered hand around his drink, but his mind stayed on Stanley and the corner of his eye kept him in view.

Stanley looked ready to walk out the door, but with a sigh he returned to his table. Stanford could feel Stanley staring at his back; he let him; it was only fair that Stanley got to absorb Stanford’s appearance since he had his fill of how much Stanley had changed. He was bigger than he was in high-school, taller and slightly thicker maybe, but not nearly as muscular as his twin. Stanford’s hair was still an uncontrollable fluffy mess and he still wore glasses, and today he wore clean jeans with black sneakers to go with his black t-shirt that was covered by a brown jacket with tons of pockets.

Stanford couldn’t stand his brother looking at him and not looking back for too long. When he looked at Stanley, a waitress was picking up the empty glasses. Stanford watched Stanley hold up two fingers, the waitress nodded and said something he could hear across the bar, and she left. Stanley looked at Stanford, their eyes meeting, and he gestured casually for Stanford to join him at his two-person table and looked away, waiting for Stanford to either accept or reject the invitation. After taking a deep breath, Stanford swallowed one last mouthful of his drink, wiped his lips dry, and made himself walk to his brother’s table.

If either of them thought things were awkward before the moment Stanford sat in the empty chair, the atmosphere became even thicker and the room suddenly felt even warmer. None of them said a word and remained silent until the waitress came by with two more beers. While Stanford quietly thanked her, Stanley gulped his down. Stanford snorted with a small smile as he brought his glass up to his lips. The drink half-empty, Stanley slammed his down, gave a small grunt, and spat out, “So, what’s the word, Sixer?”

Stanford smiled as he slowly began to spill about college and his new friends. Well, more like best friend and acquaintances, but his status was much better than it was in high-school and he was much happier. Stanley nearly choked on his beer when Stanford mentioned his twelve PhDs and he immediately congratulated him and told him how proud he was; he even ordered two shots to celebrate with. Stories of college were swapped for stories of Stanley’s travels and before either brothers knew it, it was almost like nothing had ever happened. (This was probably thanks to the alcohol in their systems, but let’s not ruin a good thing.)

As less and less people crowded the bar and the drinks started to slow down, more and more was said between the pair of twins and it was almost too easy with how things flowed. Eventually they were the only ones at the bar and they could tell the staff was waiting for them to leave so they could close, so they decided to go for a walk to keep the good conversation going. It seemed like nothing could end such a surprisingly successful night until the hairs on the back of Stanley’s neck stood up and he looked over his shoulder.

Four dreary shadows followed them in the dead of night, but Stanley recognized them instantly. He tried to get Stanford to leave, but the eldest twin refused, no matter how hard the younger one pushed. Stanley stopped trying when Stanford gritted through his teeth, “I won’t abandon you again, Lee.”

The twins may have been out-numbered, but the gang was out-matched. After a few scrapes and close calls, the Pines twins left the goons on the sidewalk and ran before the cops could be called. One look at Stanley while under a lamppost and Stanford saw how badly his brother was beaten, so he forced him onto a trolley for Backupsmore and took him up to his dorm, where a first-aid kit sat under his bed.

Stanford ignored the fact that Fiddleford wasn’t back while he fixed Stanley up. He also ignored his twin’s groveling, claiming he could take care of himself, but Stanley had a broken nose and needed the extra pair of hands to snap his bones back into place. When all was said and done and Stanley’s schnoz had quit bleeding, Stanford filled an ice pack and made his twin lay down on his bed so he could rest. That was when Stanley spat out what had been on his mind all night.

“Why do you even care?” His eyes were covered by his beefy arm, making his expression hard to read. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

Stanford stared. Had he really made it seem he was so angry at Stanley he wouldn’t help him? “I… Yes. Yes, I’m still mad at you, but… but I…” He stumbled over his words and swallowed, the ice pack making his fingers numb.

Stanley peeked at his brother and sighed. “I’m mad, too… but I missed you so much that I ain’t got the time to be mad. You get what I’m sayin’?”

Stanford smiled and could feel a hundred pounds being lifted from his shoulders. “I think so. I might be angry at you for what you did, but I’m at a point in which I don’t care. At least, not as much as I care about getting my brother back.” He added nervously.

Stanley finally returned the smile. “Yeah. Me too.” And he accepted the ice pack and placed it on his head to help with the ache.

The next morning, Fiddleford tiptoed into his dorm and was surprised to find Stanford asleep on the floor, sitting with his arms-crossed on the bed, and a stranger on Stanford’s bed, one of his hands in Stanford’s hair. But a closer look told Fiddleford that the stranger was family and so he left them alone without a single sound.

~~~~~~~~~~

“No way?!” Stanley reread the check his brother handed to him. His eyes were particularly drawn to all those zeros, but he also checked the address and such and such. He grinned proudly and handed the slip of paper back with a playfully shove of his twin’s shoulder. “Congrats, Sixer!”

“Thank you, Stanley.” Stanford replied with rosy cheeks, pocketing the check in his brown jacket. “Now I just have to decide on what to study and how I’ll study it.”

“You’ll figure something out.” Stanley said as he munched on his bacon, happy to sit at a breakfast joint with his brother and just casually talk about life and junk. He didn’t need anything else. “Stanford Pines always thinks of a way.”

Stanford chuckled nervously, then changed the subject. “So, how do you like San Francisco?”

“It’s nice.” Stanley muttered with a shrug. “Not gonna lie, much of what I’ve already seen. Big city on water. It’s a lot nicer than Columbia, for sure, but it’s okay.” Stanford didn’t miss how uncomfortable he was about the subject, which made him only more sure what he was about to say was the right thing.

“I… I think I’ve decided what I want to study.”

Stanley grinned, his spirit much higher. “That’s what I’m talking about! Let’s hear it!”

“Well, when I was thinking about it, I couldn’t help but remember how I had always been teased for my six fingers.” Stanford started, raising a hand and wiggling his fingers. “But that got me thinking about anomalies.” And he pulled out his book on the subject and set it on the table for Stan to pick up and flick through the pages. “You know, things that are odd, unusual, statistically improbable, but not impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible, yeah I know.” Stanley agreed. “Well this all looks great! So you’re gonna go find monsters and stuff? Sounds right up your alley!”

“Thank you.” Stanford said with a smile. “I’ve already calculated where to start, and there appears to be a large cluster of anomalies in Oregon. The grant will cover the cost of a house and lab and everything I could need to properly investigate. But… it’s a bit overwhelming.” Stanford admitted. “It’s a lot to explore for one man.”

“Hey hey,” Stanley said firmly to squash any doubt. “You’ll be amazing at it.”

“I was thinking of hiring an assistant.” Stanford went on, hoping to get his point across successfully. “The grant is enough to cover some help.”

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea! What about that Fiddlesticks guy?”

“I was actually thinking of keeping this in the family.”

Stanley’s smile dropped. After staring at him for a second or two, he lowered his head and sipped his orange juice. “Oh.”

“I’ll pay you for your work.” Stanford explained. “I haven’t even started on the blueprints for the house yet, but you were always creative and ingenuitive; we can think of a design we both like and would give us our own rooms and space. You wouldn’t have to pay for rent or the bills, you working would do that, but your pay would be lower, but it would be enough for whatever you need. Sure, if I really had to I could probably figure it out, but I would really rather not, and…”

“I’m in.”

It was Stanford’s turn to stare. He was really expecting his brother to refuse, to be stubborn about this. Stanford wasn’t an idiot; he knew Stanley was living in his car and had not been doing well the last four years, and he harbored a lot of guilt for that, but now he had a chance to make things right. Things were still uncertain, and there were still some things about what happened they would have to talk about, some day, but family helps family. Right? “Really?”

Stanley laughed and smiled at him. “Yeah, bro! You need help and I can help you, so I’m in. Last thing I need is for you to go skipping into Roadkill County by yourself and getting eaten by a two-headed mountain lion or something. ‘Sides, we always wanted to go on monster hunts as kids, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that life is way too short to not do whatcha wanna do.”

Stanford grinned. “You won’t regret this, Lee! I swear!”

“Don’t sweat it,” Stanley chuckled. It was scary how similar they were; it appeared that Stanford was just as scared of losing Stanley as Stanley was of losing Stanford. “Wherever we go, we go together, right?” And he raised a hand to him.

Stanford grinned. “Right.” And they sealed the deal with a high-six.

~~~~~~~~~~

August 30th, 2000

“Move! MOVE! Outta my way!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Please excuse us, sorry!”

Ford was attempting to be the responsible and respectful one, since Stan was clearly going to be rambunctious and obnoxious enough for them both, but truth be told, if Stan was the one who was calm, Ford would be going ballistic.

They both ran into the hospital lobby, glanced at the directions board for the correct floor, and glanced at the elevator, stuffed with people like sardines in a tin can. Stan groaned and darted for the door to the stairs, making Ford grin and follow. They both used their adrenaline to run as fast as they could up the stairs and they nearly broke the door off the hinges at the sixth floor.

Of course, no one familiar was there to greet them, but the twins took that as a good sign; they hadn’t missed it. They walked to room 18 and saw that it was labeled “Pines.” The door suddenly opened and they were met faced-to-face with their nephew, Alex.

The young man grinned at the sight of his uncles. “Hey! You made it!”

“We wouldn’t miss it, my boy.” Ford assured, patting his back.

“Is the squirt here yet?” Stan asked.

Alex shook his head. “No, not yet. But Dana’s at eight centimeters, so it shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Well, we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Thanks. I better go get her ice chips…”

“Oh, I gotcha, sport.” Stan said and headed down the hall casually, his hands in the pockets of his khakis.

“Seriously,” Alex muttered to Ford, a bit more mournful now. “I really appreciate… I’m glad you’re both here.”

Ford smiled kindly and squeezed his shoulder. “Your father would be very proud.”

Alex managed to smile back. An alarm rang over the door for room 18, and Alex ran back inside, leaving Ford to stand there in horror as Dana lay in bed, sweating. Two doctors hurried inside the hospital room and the door was closed, leaving Ford in the dark. He sighed, hoping no more death would strike this family, and he took a seat in the hall to wait.

Stan was shaken, but hid it well, when he came back and Ford had to tell him that something wasn’t right. They were both very surprised when the door was thrown open and Dana was wheeled out in her bed. Alex was squeezing her hand as two doctors called out orders and took the new mother away. Ford and Stan hurried close behind, but were stopped at a different door.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but only the father is allowed with the mother for the C-Section.”

The twins paled. “C-Section?!”

Two hours later, Alex emerged, shaking, but grinning. “They’re… they’re okay. They’re okay.”

“Holy Moses, Lil’Lex, what happened?” Stan said sympathetically.

“It’s… well, why don’t you come in first, then I’ll tell you.” Alex suggested. The pair of men nodded, and were led into a bigger room.

Dana was asleep, apparently on some kind of medicine to help her sleep. There was a special hospital crib next to the big bed. Stan and Ford cautiously approached with Alex, but Ford had to cover his mouth with his six-fingered hand and Stan accidentally let out a long line of swears, making Ford smack him upside the head.

There were two babies. One wore a pink hat, one wore a blue hat, both wrapped in warm blankets, and lying close together. There was a second crib off to the side, but there was no wonder why it wasn’t in use. Twins stick together.

“Mighty Axolotl, thank you.” Ford muttered under his breath. “Alex, they’re beautiful.”

Stan rounded on his nephew and ruffled his fluffy brown hair. “You trying to be a conman like your uncle?”

“Heh, we did decide to take a leaf outta your book, Uncle Stan.” Alex admitted. “We wanted to surprise you both. That’s why things were a bit complicated, but everything worked out. The girl, Mabel, came out first. She kicked the doctor in the jaw.”

“Hah! That’s my girl!” Stan said proudly.

“The boy, Mason, had his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. Came out blue.” Alex admitted. “He’s okay now, just gave us a scare, but the doctors say he’ll be alright.”

“Thank goodness.” Ford looked down at the baby boy and smiled, truly grateful he was okay, and he thought he could see something poking out of his hat, but it was probably just fuzz.

Alex watched amusingly as the older twins just looked down at the sleeping younger twins. They were smiling so peacefully while their brown eyes were glued hungrily at the newborns. Alex waited for them to ask, but apparently they weren’t going to, so he chuckled warmly, “You know you can hold them too, if you want.”

Ford swallowed. “V-Very well…”

Meanwhile Stan pulled up a chair, sat, and excitedly waited like a child.

Alex scooped up the baby boy and gave him to Stan, who held him like a champ. Then Alex carefully picked up his little daughter and let Ford hold her, who was as stiff as wood and extremely cautious, but after a minute of feeling how peaceful she breathed against him and slept, it was easy to relax.

“Hello,” Ford muttered down at the baby girl, who slept happily.

Stan smiled down at the baby boy, getting strong deja vu from when he held his nephew all those years ago. He noticed something on the baby’s forehead and carefully freed a hand to smooth over his skin, but it wasn’t something that could be wiped away. He gently pushed the tiny blue hat up the small forehead and beamed with pride at the unique birthmark. “Well, look at you, buddy boy. Whatcha hiding that for, ey? That’s pretty special.”

Ford looked down and smiled. “How interesting.”

“Kinda looks like the Big Dipper.” Stan said.

Ford chuckled. “It does.” Something caught his eye, drawing his attention back to the baby girl. She was stirring in Ford’s arms, and soon opened one eye, getting used to the bright world. The scientist held his breath as she looked up at him, and slowly opened her other eye, staring up at him with brown eyes that matched his own. “Stanley,” He hissed. “Stanley, he’s looking at me.”

Stan looked and smiled. “She must see something she likes.” He sneered playfully.

Ford smiled warmly down at her. “Hello there, sweetheart. I’m your Great-Uncle Ford, hi.”

Stan snorted and looked down at his new nephew. “That’s too much of a mouthful. You two gremlins just call me your Grunkle Stan, k’?”

~~~~~~~~~~

January 18th, 2001

The phone was ringing. No, maybe Stan had dreamed the phone rang, because when he lifted his head to listen, he couldn’t hear it, so he let his head fall back on his pillow and he began snoring again.

Ford soon opened the door. He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathed deeply to control himself, and then he entered Stan’s bedroom. He stood beside his sleeping brother and squeezed his shoulder. “Stanley. Stanley, wake up please.”

Stan blinked awake, groaned, and turned. “Whatcha want, Sixer?”

“Stanley, please sit up. I need to tell you something.”

That got his attention; how grave Ford’s voice sounded, how serious, how scary and non-urgent it was. This wasn’t an emergency, but it wasn’t good if Ford was waking him up in the middle of the night. Stan sat up and slipped on his glasses. “What’s wrong?”

Ford sat on the bed, facing his twin. He was quiet for a moment, but then began to talk in a melancholy tone. “W-We… um… The…” Ford cleared his throat in a sad attempt to start again. “I need you to, please, be ready to leave for California as soon as you can. W-We should pack for a few days, maybe a week just in case.”

A shiver went down Stan’s spine. “Why?”

Ford took in a deep breath and took off his glasses. That was never a good sign. “Alex and D-Dana went out. Left Mason and Mabel with a neighbor for a date night. I-It was raining…” And Ford was at a loss for words.

Stan sighed tiredly. “They got into a car crash, didn’t they?”

Ford nodded.

Stan clapped his hands on his knees. “Well, we can help ‘em out. Those little guys love us, and we can stay longer than a week to help the love birds recover.”

“Stanley… they can’t recover.”

That nearly made Stan’s heart stop. He watched as Ford’s head was hung low, but he could still see how wet his eyes were.

Ford swallowed and croaked out, “They’re gone.”

Stan bit his lip.

Ford turned his head away. “Let’s try to leave within the hour…” He made to move, to attempt to be a man and hide his tears, but Stan wouldn’t let him.

He brought his brother in for a tight, warm hug, and closed his eyes. Ford’s eyes brimmed with tears, and fell when he shut his eyes and buried his face in his twin’s shoulder, but he couldn’t do more than shudder and control his breathing. Stan was still as stone, but a single tear leaked out of one eye, and he let it fall without shame.

~~~~~~~~~~

The nice old lady who had babysat the twins when their parents died kept an eye on them until the uncles arrived, coming just as quickly as they did the day they heard the niblings were being born.

When Ford and Stan arrived at their dead nephew’s house and made a short journey to the one next door, crying disturbed their ears. The frail old lady sighed sadly and explained to the men, “I’ve tried everything for her. Bless her heart, she’s fine, but she misses her parents.”

When the old lady shuffled away to find her spare key for Alex and Dana’s house, Stan and Ford went to see their niece and nephew, the pair in a bassinet in the living room. Soft music played on a record-player, but they were deaf to it. Poor Mabel was crying her little heart out, wailing as hot tears streamed her red cheeks. Mason was by her side, holding her hand as his bottom lip trembled, trying to help his sister but having no idea how.

Stan noticed this and smiled down at the six-month-olds. He ruffled the brown fuzz on top of Mason’s head and cooed, “Hey there, gremlins. Remember us? C’mere, pumpkin, let’s see if we can’t make you feel better, ey?” Stan carefully picked Mabel up and Mason let go of her hand, his bottom lip still shaking with emotion.

Poor Mabel still cried just the same, but Stan was patient and even smiled at her stubbornness. Ford watched, intrigued, as Stan cradled the baby girl in his muscular arm, ran a finger down her button nose a few times, slowly, and breathed deeply. By the time he ran his finger down her nose the third time, Mabel had stopped crying, curious, and then yawned, turning towards his chest and clinging onto his red Hawaiian shirt.

“There we go, better?” Stan asked. Whimpering from the bassinet made Stan chuckle and he reached a strong arm down for his nephew. “Don’t think I forgot about you, Lil’Dipper. I gotcha.”

“How did you do that?” Ford whispered as Mabel snuggled against his chest and Mason calmed down the second he was in Stan’s embrace.

The businessman shrugged. “I dunno, it worked for Alex when he got fussy and it worked on one of Soos’ cousins at Thanksgiving last year.”

Ford smiled and patted his shoulder. “Well you’ve always had a way with children, Stanley.”

“You’ll get the hang of it, Sixer, don’t worry.” Stan assured, but he was suspicious when he saw a new expression on Ford’s face. “Well we are taking them home with us.” You would think they had this conversation on the long car-ride, but the drive had been dead silent as the cold reality had set in.

“Stanley, no.” Ford said firmly, looking away. “We can’t.”

“Have you lost your mind, cuz I’ll help you find it!” Stan scolded. “Why in the world wouldn’t we take them home?!”

“W-... I… I w-... It’s not a good idea.” Ford stuttered, finally looking at his brother again. “It’s not that I don’t want to! I want to! And you would be brilliant at it, Stanley! But… But they would be b-... I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be any good at it.”

“You were fine at the hospital!”

“That was different! Gravity Falls is too dangerous. I hate to say it, but they…”

“Then don’t say it.” Stan growled warningly. He calmed down a little, and then said with the kind of authority that made his word final, “Listen, we’re family; wherever we go, we go together. If they didn’t come home with us, where would they go? Everyone’s gone, so they’d go in the system, and you and I have both heard the horror stories. Best case scenario they would be separated, and that’s the best case scenario. They aren’t going in the system. They’re coming home.

“And what’s all this talk about you not being good enough for them?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve heard you say some stupid sh-stuff! They need you, and you need them. And honestly, if these kids are anything like us, I’m more worried about the town surviving than I am of them being okay.”

Ford snorted and bit his lip, smiling down at the pair of babies.

“It’ll work out, Sixer, just you wait and see.” Stan reassured and handed Mabel to him, despite the frantic look on Ford’s face and the fact that he was shaking his head “no”.

Mabel hadn’t really fallen asleep; she was merely resting against Stan’s body. Now she grabbed Ford’s black sweater tightly and nuzzled her chubby cheeks into the yarn. She smiled at the soft touch. Ford held his breath, waiting for Mabel to start crying again, but she didn’t. He took in a few breaths and adjusted his hold so she was cradled more comfortably. The scientist smiled down at her and found all of his troubles were a bit less troubling.

“And no offense, Brainiac, but I don’t give a… gnome’s butt what you say.” Stan injected; he was really going to have to work on his swears. “I’m going to the courthouse before we leave town and I’m adopting these gremlins.”

“What?!” Ford looked back up at him in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Stan had a very serious look on his face that Ford had only seen on rare occasions. “I ain’t risking some distant cousin or whatnot deciding I ain’t good enough, or the system deciding to take ‘em. They’re my kids…”

“I want to adopt them with you.” Ford interrupted, his voice lighter than it had been all conversation.

Stan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to do that…”

“I want to.” Ford said earnestly, looking back down at Mabel. The second Stan mentioned the possibility of them going away again, Ford’s heart broke. He couldn’t do it. Not if his life depended on it. He couldn’t let his children go. “Y-you’re right. I can’t… I can’t lose…” And he bit his lip and cleared his throat. “You were right, Stanley.”

“Heh. A broken clock is right twice a day.” Stan quoted and let Mason hold his finger as he held him in his arms. “Trust me. We’ll be okay.”

And Ford nodded, putting all of his trust in his family.

~~~~~~~~~~

“SIXER! C’MERE!”

Ford jumped up from his desk, knocking his chair to the floor, and sprinted down the hall for the living room, where he was certain his brother was yelling from. He stood at the doorway to find Mabel standing thanks to the help of the couch, a chubby hand on the cushion, and Dipper on his hands and knees beside her. Stan was sitting on the floor just two feet away from the toddlers and grinned at his brother. “Mabel almost took her first steps!”

“Really?!” Ford gasped happily and stepped into the room to watch.

“C’mere, pumpkin!” Stan cooed and waved his hands to himself. “Come to Grunkle Stan, c’mere!”

Mabel giggled and bounced on her knees, but still didn’t step to him. Stan even clapped one or twice to grab her attention, but all that made her do was let go of the couch to clap, but she was more than capable of standing on her own.

“Go on, sweetie, you can do it.” Ford encouraged.

At last Mabel seemed to notice that her other great-uncle was present. She turned and smiled a big smile at him, showcasing her new baby teeth, and surprised everyone when she turned and ran to Ford. Mabel might have tripped and fallen on her baby butt, but that didn’t stop her from giggling and reaching out for Ford, who instantly scooped her up while Stan stood, laughing.

“Mabel, you can walk! Clever girl, clever girl!” Ford praised.

“That’s our girl!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was on the floor of the living room a few days later, playing with Dipper and Mabel, building block towers. The door opened and closed and a booming voice called, “Where’s my troublemakers, ey?!”

The babies squealed and giggled and had a little race, crawling as fast as they could to the hall where Stan stood with groceries in his arms, but he sat the food on the floor to have free hands for his kids, and he scooped them up and scratched their chubby cheeks with his stubble.

“Hey there, kiddos? Been good for Grunkle Ford? No? Good!”

Ford rolled his eyes as he picked up the groceries. “They were as good as gold.”

“Eh, I guess that’s okay.” Stan smiled at Dipper, who was reaching for his glasses, and said, “Hi.”

Dipper smiled. “Hi!”

Ford did a double take as Stan laughed proudly and squeezed his nephew.

~~~~~~~~~~

From first steps to first words to first birthdays, the pair of old explorers were there for everything and couldn’t believe their luck. Pretty soon they were taking the children on safe adventures with them, fishing and hiking, and teaching them everything from Cowls to how to hot-wire cop cars. For eight years their lives were complete and things were too good to be true.

But then Stan went missing. At first Ford wasn’t too worried, only mildly annoyed, but to be fair they had a disagreement recently and Stan was a grown man, so maybe he needed to blow off steam. But then days went by. This was extremely unlike Stan, and there were some people that would want him gone, so without scaring the children too much, he began searching for his twin, definitely not freaking out.

#GF #gravity falls #fanfiction #mystery skulls #stangst

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boxesandrings · 3 years

Note

Hello!! I just recently got into the stardew fandom and I'm notice a severe lack of Elliot content ;-; could I please get something fluffy and/or explicit with him and an afab or gender neutral farmer?? Hope you have a good day!!

Hello! It took me a while to decide if I wanted to do a smut or a fluff, but ultimately I decided a fluff, just because I love Elliott so much and wanted to see his soft and lovey side (also, I just published a smut of him on my AO3, and if you want to read it you can click here). Hope you enjoy!

Title: Dedicated

Rating: G

Summary: Elliott dedicated his novel to the Farmer, but the Farmer gets confused and thinks it's for someone else. Reassuring fluff ensues.

Characters: Elliott, nb!Farmer, Leah, Maru, Lewis, Gunther

Words: 2741

Elliott was not a nervous person. There never really was a reason for him to be— things tended to work out for him. School came naturally to him, and any poor grades were often changed for him after pleading his case to his teachers. Elliott only applied to his dream school and was accepted easily, and excelled within his program. He slept with the people he wanted, because they always wanted to sleep with him too, and when he decided on a whim to move to Pelican Town, the breezy seaside town he frequented on vacations as a child, the cabin was already there, almost as if waiting for him. Things worked out.

The Farmer, however, made him nervous. They arrived a little over a year after he did, and Elliott couldn’t help but find the newcomer intimidating. They’d spend long days out in the sun, tilling the earth or wrangling chickens. Elliott would often step out of his cabin early in the morning to enjoy the stillness of the beach, only to find the Farmer already there, holding a fishing pole. They were non-stop, powerful. Elliott couldn’t help but feel inadequate around them, his stomach fluttered every time he spoke to the new Farmer.

Their short, shoulder length golden hair and long, muscular legs didn’t make anything easier either. The first summer after the Farmer had moved to town, Elliott had been so mesmerized by the way the Farmer’s back muscles looked as they helped Willy move some barrels on the dock that he hadn’t noticed the firepit in front of his house and tripped on the rocks, breaking his wrist.

He’d never had trouble flirting with other people before; Elliott knew he looked good and drew people in with his artistic vibe, and who would be able to resist his 10,000 megawatt smile? But for some reason the Farmer was different. He’d get flustered anytime the Farmer spoke to him, but for some reason the Farmer kept coming back.

He kissed the Farmer almost two months ago now, their stomachs both burning and heads dizzy from the homemade pomegranate wine the Farmer had made. Elliott had been bold and messy, and instantly had regretted how he had pulled the Farmer in, but they just smiled and kissed him again, over and over until the night sky grew bright. Elliott had bought a proper bouquet the next day, and the relationship had been going well since.

Elliott scanned the museum now, looking for his partner. After his book had been picked up and published by a proper agency a month ago, Mayor Lewis had insisted upon a proper book reading and signing event. The Mayor had told Elliott it was to honor his accomplishments, to celebrate Pelican Town’s first proper author, but Elliott had the feeling it was more about the potential revenue the tourists might bring in.

The Farmer walked into the museum, their arms linked between both Maru and Leah’s, the three of them laughing as they shuffled in. Elliott waved, and the Farmer waved back, face beaming with pride. The group slipped toward the back of the crowd, leaning against the display shelves. As if on cue, the Mayor walked up to the microphone on the makeshift stage Gunther had set up in the museum and addressed the crowd, introducing Elliott and reminding the tourists of all Pelican Town’s many amenities. Elliott rolled his eyes at the Farmer who giggled with their friends, and made his way up behind Lewis.

“Thank you all, for coming today. It truly is so exciting to see that in the short time my novel has been out how many people it resonated with, how many of you traveled to see me.” He bit his lip and scanned the room, attempting to gauge the interest of the crowd. A young woman up front threw him a look Elliott could describe as bedroom eyes, and he coughed, quickly looking away.

“Well, I’m certainly excited to start this, as I’m sure you all are.” A small laugh from the crowd, agreement. “The book, as some of you may know, is Camellia Station, a romance about a stewardess who falls in love with a travelling architect, and the great distances each would go for their love.” He picked up the book. “Shall we begin?

The crowd let out a small cheer, and just from listening, Elliott could tell it was mostly from his friends in town. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ears, and cracked open the cover.

“Camellia Station.” A small smattering of cheers, this time from a larger section of the crowd. He flipped the page, his breath hitching.

To My Love.

He had forgotten he had written that, almost eight months ago when he had sent in the final draft of his manuscript. The love in question, of course, was the Farmer, who hadn’t known how maddeningly in love he was with them at the time, and still hadn’t heard the words from Elliott himself. It was so quick, and they had only been on a few proper dates.

Elliott realized he had been silent staring at the page. Only for three, maybe five seconds, but long enough. He looked up, flashing a sheeping smile. “Sorry, it’s just hard to believe this is finally happening.” Some members of the crowd laughed, and Elliott cleared his throat.

“To my love.” He flipped the page quickly, and heard the young woman in the front row sigh dreamily. “Chapter One. 'Your ticket, sir?' Ticket collector Gozman extended a gloved hand towards the young commuter. 'Ah, yes. I have it right here,' he replied, reaching into his coat pocket. Mortified, he discovered that the ticket was missing..."

********************************************

The rest of the reading went off without a hitch. At the end of the second chapter, Elliott closed the novel and looked up at the crowd, a playful smile on his lips. “As much as I’d love to continue, we must return the museum back to its generous owner, who provided us the space to conduct this event. Thank you all so much for coming to listen and share this day with me.”

The audience began to clap, some more enthusiastically than others, and Elliott blushed as he heard the Farmer’s group being especially rowdy from the back. People began to line up to purchase copies of his book or to have him sign ones they already owned. After 20 or so minutes of signatures and well wishes, Elliott looked up to see Maru, Leah, and the Farmer smiling back down at him.

“Ellie! I’m so proud of you!” Leah practically leapt over the desk to get to him, pulling him into a hug much tighter than he would have ever expected.

“Leah! Thank you. I’m so glad you all came.” He wiggled his way out of her arms and smiled at Maru. “I’m glad you were able to make it.” Maru smiled back at him and nodded.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it.” Maru had been a surprising addition to their friend group. Before the Farmer, it had been just him and Leah, two aspiring artists against the world. It wasn’t that they didn’t like or get along with her, they just didn’t run in the same circles. The Farmer had quickly bonded with Maru after arriving, though, and as they moved their way into Elliott and Leah’s lives, Maru came along for the ride. Now, Elliott could barely picture the group without her.

“Congrats, El.” The Farmer walked behind the table now and wrapped their arms around him, planting a kiss on his cheek. Elliott smiled, wrapping an arm around his partner.

“Were you hoping to get an autograph as well?” The Farmer pursed their lips and looked up, a pantomime of thought.

“Actually, I know the author, so I think I can just get one whenever I want.” Elliott laughed.

“Certainly.” He looked back up at the two women. “Seriously, though, I’m so glad you were all able to come today. It really means a lot to me.” Maru nodded, but Leah came right back up to the couple and wrapped them both in her arms.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have missed it for anything!” Leah brought the couple into her, her arms around both, tears in her eyes. “I love you all so much! Maru, you too! Get in here.”

Maru sighed behind them but smiled and made her way into the huddle, Leah’s arms encompassing her as well. She stood for a moment, humming quietly as she held her friends.

“Leah? Not to be the buzzkill, but almost everyone has left and Gunther is staring directly at us.” Elliott shuffled uncomfortably as the rest of the group spotted the curator. Leah let go of her friends, and began to make her way toward the door, apologizing as she went. Maru followed quickly after, and the Farmer and Elliott made their way out hand in hand.

“Yeah! I think it went super. You sounded really good up there.” Elliott stepped ahead, opening the door for the Farmer.

“Do you think it went well?” Elliott looked down at his partner. The Farmer nodded, looking at Elliott through the corner of their eye.

“Thanks.” Elliott appreciated the praise, but something had seemed off in the Farmer’s tone. Was it not actually good? Did they hate the book? Elliott felt nervous.

“Everything okay?” The Farmer paused, then turned to face Elliott, a weary smile on their face.

“Yeah! I just had to get up a little earlier this morning to make sure I had everything taken care of before the reading.” Elliott nodded, but the pit in the bottom of his stomach remained. “Are you still down for dinner at mine tonight?”

Elliott cheered up almost instantly. How could he have forgotten dinner?

“Of course! Let’s go, straight away!” He grabbed the Farmer’s hand and began to strut, his chest puffed out in a caricature of strength. The Farmer laughed, almost tripping as they tried to keep up with Elliott’s stride.

Once at the Farmer’s home, Elliott pulled up his hair and began the task of preparing dinner. Without a proper kitchen in his cabin, Elliott’s culinary prowess was wasted. In the Farmer’s renovated kitchen, however, he relished any chance to show off his skills. The Farmer opted for a shower while he prepared their meal, claiming to be covered in grime from the morning on the farm, but something in Elliott’s stomach twisted again, unsure if his partner’s words were true.

Lost in his thoughts, Elliott didn’t notice when the Farmer appeared behind him, wrapping their arms around his stomach as they peaked around his shoulders to watch the action on the stove. “Whatchya cooking?” Elliott twisted to kiss the Farmer’s head and inhaled deeply, promising to commit the smell of the Farmer’s shampoo, cedar and smoke, to memory.

“I’m just putting the sear on some snapper that I bought from Willy this morning, would you be a dear and get the wine from the fridge?” The Farmer nodded, and their arms slipped away as they padded to the fridge. Elliott heard the pour behind him; the ting of the neck of the bottle against the glasses. The Farmer walked back up beside him, holding one glass between them.

“Do you want a taste?” Elliott nodded, expecting the Farmer to hand him the glass, but was surprised when the Farmer lifted the glass to his lips, a serious and intent look in their eyes. Elliott drank from the glass without breaking eye contact, attempting to play it cool, even as he gripped the handle of the pan tighter. He felt another tinge in his stomach, but this one wasn’t from nerves.

“Why darling,” he said, his voice dangerously low, “it’s not yet time for dessert.” The Farmer smiled, their lips still pressed together and kissed Elliott’s cheek and turned, making their way to the table. Elliott turned his attention back to the fish and turned off the burner and began to plate, unsure now if the meal would be eaten right away after all.

As he carried the plates over to the table, the Farmer smiled and scratched their head. “I feel bad, I really should have cooked tonight. It’s your big day after all.” Elliot sat next to the Farmer, kissing their forehead quickly on his way.

“Nonsense. I love to cook, and any day I get the opportunity to only makes the day better.” The Farmer smiled, but Elliott noticed that their leg continued to bounce quickly underneath the table. He bit his lip. “Darling-”

“El, did I— oh.” The couple paused, eyeing each other.

“I just wanted to ask if everything was okay.” Elliott pursed his lips. The Farmer chuckled nervously and ran a hand through their damp hair.

Elliott blinked and set down his fork, confused. “What?” The Farmer leaned forward, regret in their eyes.ing your reading today, did I… was I the other person, like did my presence impact your last relationship?”

Elliott blinked and set down his fork, confused. “What?” The Farmer leaned forward, regret in their eyes.

“I’m not saying something happened or that you cheated or anything, I would never imply that, but I know when I came here I was kinda flirty and obviously you were into that but I thought you were single.” The Farmer was animated as they rambled, their hands waving about. “And I mean I’m happy to be with you, I prefer it this way, but I’d feel terrible if I somehow caused stress in your relationships at all—”

Elliott grabbed the Farmer’s hands and pulled them in toward him, drawing their attention back in. He shook his head, confused.

“Darling, I don’t— What are you talking about?” The Farmer bit their lip and looked down again.

“At the reading, the dedication… I mean, it was sweet, but you sent in the final draft, what, almost a year ago now? And the story was very good, you know I think that, but I couldn’t help but think about that and how… if I was some kind of topic of stress in whatever… you know.” The Farmer looked back up, eyes misty.

Elliott laughed. He couldn’t help it. This is what the Farmer had been stressed about? He could understand if, certainly, but their own nerves almost seemed silly compared to his. The Farmer tilted their head, waiting for Elliott to answer.

When he finally calmed down, Elliott shook his head and picked his fork back up, studying his food as he cut off a piece of the fish. “No, it’s been… my last true relationship was many, many years ago, long before I came to the valley.”

“Oh.” The Farmer nodded, but Elliot could hear the confused tone in their voice.

“The dedication was for you.” He looked back up at the Farmer, smiling. The Farmer blinked and opened their mouth to speak, but Elliott cut them off. “I know, but… in all honesty, I truly think I’ve been in love with you for a long time, dear.” The Farmer smiled now, the misty look returning to their eyes.

“Oh, El.” They giggled and moved their chair closer to his, and slid a hand around the back of his neck.

“I really do believe from the moment I first saw you, I fell for you,” Elliott continued. “You had my heart.” The Farmer let out another small giggle and leaned forward, pulling Elliott’s head in toward theirs for a kiss, deep and soft and tender.

When they pulled away, the Farmer leaned their forehead against his. “I love you too, Elliott.” They chuckled and bit their lip, eyes scanning his. “I know I don’t have some grand gesture or… beautiful speech to tell you with, but I do.” Elliott nodded, and kissed his partner again.

Elliott stood up, his arms still around the Farmer, pulling them up with him. He pulled the Farmer in flush against him, their bodies pressed together as he tried to continue to kiss them, unable to maintain the connection as he fought his smile.

“That’s alright darling, your love is grand enough.” The Farmer laughed as Elliott tried to pull them into an even tighter embrace..

“My Love.” The Farmer smiled as they studied Elliot’s face. Elliott’s hand made its way to the Farmer’s cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb.

“My love.”

#elliott sdv #sdv elliott #stardew elliott #sdv fic #fic request #requests open #sdv requests #stardew fluff

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sadachmesarthim · 3 years

Photo

yes this is a rewrite, feel free to fry my ass on anon about it.

content: starker being mean to each other, peter parker has Supportive Friends™, tony has daddy and mommy issues, quentin beck is a Mean Boss™, smoking, secondhand smoke.

word count: 3.0k

square filled: coffee shop au -> link to playlist here

part two is here!

a little vocab lesson before continuing: mobster = really high up in the chain of command for this group of coffee shops. they go around training new hirees, and often decide who gets to move up the line of command. they get to travel on company money, and are very well respected in the workplace. mobsters usually come in groups - siblings, hires from the same groups, etc.

Tony didn't like Richland.

Sure, okay, it was a serious step up from Federal Way. He was free from his parents, he could do whatever he wanted in a house all to himself, no one knew who he was - it was a refreshing change, one he definitely needed now that he was graduated, all grown up.

He'd moved back east about two months ago. He'd wanted to get as far away from home as possible, stretch his legs - he went under the guise of missing his grandma, wanting to go to school. He wasn't a terrible liar, either. Howard and Maria'd eaten it up, encouraging him to go as soon as he could.

"If you go now, you could get there in time for summer classes. Maybe even get a job before they stop hiring seasonally. You never know, but you might as well try!"

So here he was. Still jobless, still not yet enrolled in school. Enjoying his time in the (now autumn) sunshine, biding his time before he ran out of money. He'd planned well - he had enough cash to keep him covered for a while, as long as he didn't go blowing it.

He'd blown it.

He was a sucker for good coffee, though, and he missed Outback. He'd worked at one back home for almost a year before he left, and now... now, it was like an itch he couldn't scratch - he needed the interaction, needed to go make friends. He was too much of a social butterfly.

Yet again, he found himself in his truck, on the way to the nearest stand. He was pathetic, really. Here he was, wasting more money on coffee, when he could be out hiking or climbing or... literally doing anything else.

He knew it was worth it the second he pulled in. The cutest kid was running lines that day - shorts hugging his tight ass deliciously, in a way Tony knew his operator would get in trouble for if a Mobster or Coach saw. Christ, they lettin' just anyone work here now, that it?

He had to keep his thoughts to himself, though - the kid had just finished the cars in front of him, and was headed straight for Tony, iPad in hand. He took a breath, putting on his best poker face. He needed a fucking cigarette.

"Hey handsome! Welcome to Outback, what're we drinkin' today?" Shit, he's cute. All bright and cheery - it might be fake, sure, customer service voice and all - but boy, did he play the part well. All big eyes and wide smile. He looked up at Tony expectantly, right hand hovering over the screen of the runner iPad. Shit, he still has to order something.

"Hi, just a small iced white vanilla breve please." Tony watched as the kid pressed a few spaces on the tablet, shocked at how fluidly he moved. Tony'd never seen him at this location before, but he obviously knew what he was doing. Location transfer, maybe? Mobster? He wasn't sure.

"Perfect! I've got you in - anything else, love?" God, he was too much. There's no way this was just the sickly facade Outback enforced - no, this was all him. "Nah, I'm okay. I'm paying card today, too." He reached his hand out for the tablet, wanting to tip this kid specifically.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, this card reader's broken. The one up at the window's working though! My girl Maia'll be up there waiting for you!" He turned with a smile, skipping off to the next car.

Jesus, who was this kid? And what did Tony have to do to see him again?

•|||•

Return an application, apparently.

Maia, the girl at the window, had let him know that they were hiring. He didn't have to feign interest - he had relevant experience, could work his way up if he needed to - and he'd get to see the mystery boy again. She'd ran and grabbed a small stack of papers for him, which he dutifully filled out and brought back a couple of hours later.

The closing shift lead had briefly interviewed him, practically giving him the job on the spot. Apparently she'd met his sister on a Mob trip, before - it paid to have connections, but damn... someone in town already knew who he was. Oh well. Not a big deal. These were still new people, fresh faces - he could make a clean reputation for himself, a fresh start...

It was exactly what he needed. And if he needed to use a bit of his influence with his sister to get it... so be it.

•|||•

"Emma, please, just... don't be a dick when he calls you. I need this job, it'll be good for m-"

"Save it, Tony. I don't want your excuses. If I say I'll do it, will you leave me alone?" She was being unusually short with him. Fuck. She and Rhodey were fighting again.

"Yes, yes, anything. Thank you so much." He was met with a bored sigh.

"Whatever, dude. I'll put in a good word. Talk to you later." She hung up before he could say anything else. Whatever - it wasn't the worst conversation he'd had with his sister, but it left a lot to be desired.

They hadn't been doing well since she & Rhodey got together. It was on-again-off-again... and they were honestly both to blame. Neither one of them was good at commitment, and it showed.

It put strain on both of their relationships with Tony, and didn't do much to help keep him in Federal Way. He sought comfort in the isolation of a new town, but it didn't seem to be helping anything.

Leaving never did, but it was really all he knew how to do.

•|||•

Peter hadn’t been at Outback long, but he’d enjoyed every minute of it.

He’d gotten hired almost immediately after graduation, not wanting to waste a second of his summer not making money. It was a bit of a difficult transition - he wasn’t a big fan of Beck, his boss, and training was really overwhelming. But after he’d hit that twelve week mark... it’s like something just clicked.

He was a whiz on bar, he was making friends right and left. He and Maia’d even gone to get tattoos together a couple weeks ago during a flash sale. He was getting faster and faster at running cars, he knew almost all of his regular customers. He genuinely felt like part of the family.

That didn’t really change when Beck hired a new group, either. There weren’t too many of them, helping keep their group small. They’d been spending a bit of time in the stand here and there, going over the rules, the ins and outs of making coffee, taking their menu test.

The three he was introducing today seemed okay enough. He just barely caught the tail end of Beck's “congrats on becoming a full employee” monologue before the man set the fresh meat loose. Not that they could really go far - it was maybe a good spit's distance from corner to corner. But, if it helped them get their bearings...

He was pulled from his thoughts before they could take off too far. “Hey, Parker! Come say hi to the green beans!”

•|||•

The red haired girl was nice enough. They'd introduced themselves, exchanged snap usernames, gushed over Peter's tattoos, and bonded over the typical new job anxiety. He'd forged a sweet new friendship with Bri, and was hopeful she'd stick around. He'd seen people like her get chewed up and spit out in this industry, and he liked her.

The tall guy... was pretty boring, actually. He stayed on his phone for the majority of the introduction, opting to ignore Peter entirely. It was fine - he'd probably be gone by the end of the month. Not like they’d miss him - he barely passed his menu test, from what Peter’d overheard.

Then came Mr. Short, Dark, and Brooding - Tony, apparently - Peter remembered him from a few weeks ago. He’d given Peter a poorly concealed once-over, tried to take the runner iPad from right out of his hands... if he wasn’t so attractive, Peter’d pin him for a fuckboy.

Despite how much he looked like he’d wanted to back then, when given the opportunity, he didn’t really engage with Peter. He apparently wasn’t the type to keep eye contact, go in for a hug, make small talk. 0 for 2. Disappointing. Oh well. That’s fine - Peter was perfectly content as the only guy at this location (sans Beck, of couse). Too much testosterone didn’t foster a healthy working environment, and they all knew it.

The girls, especially. They all gushed over Peter - apparently being the token gay guy in the stand somehow made him exempt from the targetted harassment. Nearly every guy they’d hired had left within 9 months - coffee was definitely a female-dominated field.

Peter was excited to see how these two fared.

•|||•

The tall guy was gone within a week. Didn’t even leave notice, just up and stopped showing up to his shifts. Not that it was the end of the world - he was still in his probationary period, so he wasn’t even making tips. No sweat off Peter’s back.

Bri did really well, in comparison. Beck was unusually strict with her - lashing out during her initial first shifts, generally being a hardass. It was unnecessary, and everyone knew it - Peter often found himself having fridge or bathroom meetings with her to help calm her down. But she kept showing up, kept trying, and after a few weeks she was doing just as well as Peter and the rest of them.

Tony was even better. Peter’d heard through the grapevine that he’d worked at a different location when he was still in school. Why he had to go through training again was lost on Peter - Beck tended to be thorough when it came to these kinds of things, but Tony was arguably more experienced than some of Peter’s coworkers...

Apparently, it’s because he wasn’t one to play nice.

•|||•

It took them quite a while to work together. Peter’d found himself getting the shit end of the schedule, working 7-1s religiously. It was by far his least favorite shift - dealing with the morning and lunch rushes were nothing, if not exhausting. But he pushed through, and finally got a say in what he worked - a very comfortable 5 - close.

Tony seemed to fill the between-shift gap - 2-8 was his jam. He liked working later, but still getting home before dark. Apparently being a newbie meant drawing the short straw sometimes -

And the short straw just so happened to be barring with the twink from a few weeks ago.

He hadn’t been... avoiding him. Tony just... didn’t like the way he worked. Peter was flighty, always moving. It irked him... he was just so much, it made Tony’s head hurt. If he wasn’t so engaging he might actually piss Tony off - but he knew the kid had nothing but good intentions, and that made it bearable.

It didn’t translate to the bar, though.

It seemed nearly impossible for them to work well together. Tony’d been assigned the milk station for the last three hours of his shift - a long stretch, but nothing he hadn’t done before. Peter was on shots almost the entire time. Poor kid.

Tony’s sympathy ran dry when they actually began working. They were almost always on top of each other - Peter crowding his space and trying to do too much. It grated on Tony’s every nerve, made it difficult to function. Peter didn’t seem to notice at all - or if he did, he didn’t care.

It came to a head when Peter went for the fridge.

It was a pretty well-known rule that the person on shots doesn’t reach for the fridge. Not only was it too far away from their position on machine, it requires them to go behind their bar partner, which is dangerous in a shop this small. Hot liquids, ice, sugar... they can cause spills, burns, falls...

So of course this dumbass goes for the fridge. Opens the door. Grabs a can of cold brew with his bare hands before turning back around.

And running into Tony face first.

This would have been fine if it were literally anything other than a cold brew. This would have been fine if Tony wasn’t holding a fresh drink! But no - the universe lined things up just right, laid out the most well-planned disaster.

As they made contact, Peter’s hands flew up in shock, dropping the very pressurized can. It exploded as it hit the concrete, spraying nitrogen and foam-y coffee all over them. This caused Tony to let go of the drink in his hand, coating both of their lower halves in hot, sticky milk.

It was picturesque, the mess they made.

Tony looked up at Peter in absolute shock. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Why were you in the fridge?!”

“I was just trying to help! You were busy, I figured I could-” Tony cut him off before he filled the stand with more hot air. Not in the mood for his bullshit excuses.

“I don’t care how busy you think I am - you ask before doing something outside of your station. Do you understand me?” The look in his eye was one Peter’d never seen before - it probably should have scared him, but frankly, it just made him angrier.

“Who do you think you are to be giving me orders?” He was huffy, he could feel his cheeks burning red. He was an angry crier, and knew he was struggling to control his face.

“My sister’s a Mobster. I think I know what I’m doing.” Oh. That explained it - his experience, his proficiency on bar... why he was such a dick. Peter’d never met a Mobster he liked, and if this guy was related to one... shit just made sense.

•|||•

He spent the remaining few hours of Tony’s shift hiding in the back. They were better off separated, and neither complained. Tony could handle himself up front, and Peter was productive enough. He had chores to do, dishes to finish, the closing list to start... Getting an early start benefitted everyone.

By the time 8 rolled around, the atmosphere in the stand had relaxed. They’d both had a chance to clean up, the girls on window had helped ease the tension with casual conversation. Bri had been running, and Peter spent plenty of time in the back with her, hushed enough to avoid the ears a few feet away.

“I don’t see why he gets to walk all over us. You’ve been here longer, and the attitude isn’t necessary.” She was sitting on the edge of the sink, goldfish making their way to her mouth between words. “You know I don’t like him. I don’t see why you keep trying to be nice.”

Peter sighed. He knew she was right. “I just... I don’t want anyone here to feel left out, or like I did at the beginning. Beck can be mean... I want all of you to feel welcome.” It wasn’t a lie, either - he’d made a point to make everyone feel at home, to make this stand a family. Until Tony showed up, he’d been doing a great job.

“I know buttercup. Just... don’t go bending over backward for someone that won’t even look you in the eye.” With that she hopped down, ready to clock out.

Tony shuffled past them both, excited to do the same. Maia’d taken over the bar for him, alleviating him just before the four minute window was up. He didn’t even excuse himself, just inserting himself in their personal space without concern.

Bri shot Peter a look before she left. Talk to him!

He opted for bravery. He deserved an apology for Tony’s harsh words earlier today, and he was going to get it.

He checked the cameras before walking back, making sure Maia wasn’t gonna wind up swamped if this took longer than necessary. Tony was collecting his things - he had to do this fast.

“Hey, listen.” Tony looked up, unamused. “I know we didn’t exactly have a good shift, and yeah I’m partly to blame for that... but Beck doesn’t really vibe with hostility, and the girls...”

Tony cut him off halfway through. “What, it makes them uncomfortable? They don’t like it when a man takes charge, has a little outburst? Sheesh, y’all really are a mess.” What the fuck?

“Okay, seriously. I tried to be nice. You owe me, and the rest of us, a serious apology for today, or I’m going to Quentin about it. It’s not that hard to say you’re sorry, Tony.” Good job Parker, firm boundaries.

“I’m sorry? Sorry for what, doing my job? Fuck that, man. I’m out of here.” He opened the door and left, skipping past an oncoming car and heading toward his own.

Peter followed him. It was stupid, sure - but he needed to assert himself here. This was his stand, his home - and he was damned if he was going to let some... some asshole trample all over his home like this.

He caught up to Tony quickly, stopping him before he could open the driver’s door. “Why are you such an asshole? The girls are obsessed with you, you clearly have a leg up against everyone else in your group. There’s no reason for you to be acting like this, dude. You’ve been here all of what, a month?”

Tony took a long drag from his cigarette before answering. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now be a good little closer, and run inside. Finish your shift.” He exhaled the smoke into Peter’s face, getting into his car and driving away without another word.

What a douchebag.

#sorry i just flat out didn't like this #sfsummerbingo21 #starkerfestivalsevents #starker #peter parker/tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #coffee shop au #.mine #i'm so sorry mads #i know i'm a pain in the ass

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pastel9girlbunny000die · 4 years

Text

Headcanon: Omegaverse

Warning: little language and sexual moments

Problem: I don't push others away and label genders, I hate it. This is for any and all to read not just fem readers.

Rin x Reader 🔖

🔖Rin as a omega just think about it, soooo kawaii 😍

🔖But seriously he'll try and keep his second gender a secret, he doesn't want to be looked down on by anyone.

🔖You can't tell me otherwise!

🔖But when he met you his omega senses clicked right in. Your strong, brave, a little mean but also bit of a temper bitch.

🔖But perfect

🔖Taking suppressments, acting all high and mighty not letting anyone press him down

🔖Being a fake alpha

🔖Your alpha like status made your profile shine, not just that your one hell of a knight and tamer. Best in the class

🔖He wanted you to take him as your mate then and there. But he had to ignore his instincts and use his head.

🔖What made things difficult was his doubts and uncertaint thoughts. That wasn't all that held him back you both had things to do, important things to focus on and dreams to achieve.

🔖Fuck no! That's not what holds him back!

🔖Your freaking last name is holding him back!!!

🔖Pheles, bloody hell you had to be the clown's kid.

🔖He wanted nothing to do with Mephisto anymore the clown was enough, but you were nothing like that guy completely different that what he fell for

🔖Your personality, the way you are, he didn't just desire your body for sexual use or his heat. He wanted you as a person to love and care for, making you happy is all he wants.

🔖But it'll never happen. His a demon and his afraid to tell you that.

🔖Later on something kept running on his mind, if your Mephisto's kid and his a demon are you one two

🔖Have he not seen it or something?

🔖So he went straight to the source and ask Mephisto himself it was irritating talking to the clown but what piss him off more was that Mephisto answered him with a question

🔖"Why is it that you wanna know?. Mr okumura."

🔖"Come on man just tell me, stop beating around the bushes and tell me!"

🔖"So rude. Yes (Y/n) is indeed blood related to me, so what do you think?"

🔖He was lost for words he was happy and worried at the same time.

🔖Could you be together if you know about him

🔖Your already great friends have a lot of fun together enjoying time doing stupid shit when you two are chilling together both your IQ's drops to one, but being near one and other just felt right to him.

🔖Finally working up the courage to ask you out.

🔖This guy went all out! brought roses dressed in the nicest hoodie he owns did his hair even wrote a speech that took a week to finish

🔖It all flopped, he got nervous suttering not making sense at all, the words that left his mouth came out as wrong as if his chatterbox broke. His palms all sweaty smudging the ink on them making it hard to tell what he wrote.

🔖You just stood there with a smirk trying not to burst into laughter, the second he came to you with roses dress like a slop you already know that he wants to ask you out.

🔖You just sat back enjoying the show.

🔖It was cute, but started getting annoying.

🔖You had to sush him placing your hands on his cheeks, "it's okay chill, Rin. Yes I will go out with you." Those few words made him the happiest omega alive, he couldn't ask for more. Maybe ask your dad to fuck off cause Mephisto was peaking his out from a corner behind you.

🔖But his happy.

🔖When you two started dating it was a little confusing all the couple stuff not knowing what to do or what's right or wrong, what your partner wants or likes.

🔖You where all cool and relax about it figuring things out along the way... on the other hand Rin was dumb as fuck, he didn't know shit he even took exstra time Googling what couples does?

🔖When he finally found the perfect blog that shoot his taste, he started experimenting. With hugs

🔖He loves hugging you from behind pressing his chest against your back and hocking his arms around your waist, rubbing his cheek against yours.

🔖But you prefer, embarrassing him making him blush. You hug him normally wrapping your arms around his waist pressing your bodies against each other his face in your neck and your in his, but your hands though goes straight down to his buttcheeks giving them a squeeze

🔖He blushes fifty shades of red!!! No end becoming all defensive and making no sense, but secretly he likes it.

🔖With hugs comes cuddling, but your form of cuddling is a bit different whenever he is busy or chilling you just lazily get on him.

🔖In cram school you sometime lean on his side wrapping your arms around him protective, when his studies you sit on his lap facing him as your bodies press together he rests his chin on you shoulder looking at his work, when he lays on the bed you just flop on him no matter what position just fall on him

🔖Holding hands, no big deal you two use to do it a lot before dating, just taking each other's hand in the mall or in public making sure not to lose each other in big open places

🔖It came naturally to you two not one of you are embarrassed or nervous. It was okay

🔖Next's was kissing, he expected a normal peck on the lips, but from you he got the best make out session of his life, but what he hates the most is when your angry that you found a new way to cool yourself down.

🔖Yes you kiss him just a normal average kiss, but to get to the kiss you suddenly without any warning whatsoever grab a hand full of his hair forcefully pull his face near yours.

🔖At least his happy you don't curse or kick random things around you or break whatever is in your hand if your holding something that is, as much as you used to before.

🔖When eating together you and Rin started sharing food without knowing, at times making each other taste your food or genuinely splitting a milkshake.

🔖Rin is actually very simple, pretty much gullible and naive at times, so taking him on a date is pretty easy you once took him too the aquarium and he had a blast like a 5 year old kid, so next time just take him to the zoo, he'd run around pointing silly things out and do all the things mention for kids.

🔖You guys take naps together all the time, just shows how much you enjoy each other company but it's best to find a different napping place other than during class.

🔖Rin is good at cooking we all know that, he loves to bake but you not so much. Your father is freaking Mephisto Pheles ofcourse your going to love junk food just as much as the clown does. You rather have instant ramen than eat a full course meal Rin took hours to make just cause you hate homemade meals.

🔖One thing that Rin will never stop is wearing your oversized hoodies it has you scent all over it making it feel like home to him, not just that he likes getting you two matching outfits or secretly pick out your outfit for the day. He even brought matching bracelets which you love thinking it's cute your omega wants to show his love

🔖You love reading and it makes you relax jumping into a new world, while Rin lays on your chest between your thighs sometime taking short naps or not, while you run your fingers through his hair letting him enjoy the little massage

🔖But.. You suddenly get pissed and either through the book or literally take a lighter wanting to burn the book which he has to stop you.

🔖 When the others found out about your relationship they where actually suprised it took them this long, especially Yukio.

🔖in all honesty Yukio tried giving Rin the talk, which ended awkward.

🔖Mephisto knew from the beginning, he really didn't care as long as your okay that's that.

🔖Suguro was beyond furious, jealous by how Rin got a lover before him which turned into a big mess of teasing and yelling between the two

🔖The others congrat you guys happy for the newly formed couple.

🔖You love Rin but sometimes you can't tolerate the people he hangs out with, you hate Shiemi and Yukio.

🔖Shiemi once tried to take your omega. Which result in you giving her a rude attitude and telling her to shove off. But Rin was quick to defend her... it turned into a full blown argument.

🔖And Yukio, tried separateding you two by secretly getting you mad at each other, you where able to catch on fast and exspose Yukio, Rin turned to your side on this getting angry at his brother.

🔖Sometimes he gets jealous that you hang out with Suguro and Shima the most. He get all whiny about it which you reinsurer him your only his alpha.

🔖When you get jealous you immediately turn violent, you once tried to kill Shiemi for wrapping her arms around Rin's arm, or when Shura hugged him to her chest, even when Izumo wore Rin's jacket.

🔖Ready to tear off their heads. But you have to contain yourself.

🔖At some point you did stumble upon Rin's nest, it wasn't in his room but in one of the many rooms in the dormitory he and Yukio lives in alone, it was like any other nest filled with blankets pillows you could find one or two suff animals in there and clothes... your missing clothes.

🔖But you just left it not wanting to do anything to it, it is his save place after all you have to wait till he willingly allows you in on his own terms it is privacy after all.

🔖Scenting is something you guys do regularly, Rin just wants your scent to feel comfortable he got so use to it, makes him feel uneasy if he doesn't get to rub on you. You enjoy it equally if he doesn't scent a stuff animal or two that is yours you might get angry and punch a hole through the wall

🔖Rin loves you dearly but he didn't bonded with you in the way he thought he would.

🔖Somehow you came down in a rut affecting him aswell, falling into an early heat.

🔖Your will power was long gone force yourself on him giving him the most lovable night he'd never forget you where so gentle and caring taking care of him before yourself. It took everything in you not to fuck his brains out.

🔖But with that it came with you slipping for a second, biting on nape so hard making him bleed, made him scream in pain mixed pleasure.

🔖it took you awhile to have Rin bite you in return cause he didn't what to hurt you and was nervous about it.

🔖But afterwards you showed off the mark wearing it with pride, pinning your hair up (if you don't have long hair just ignore it.) And wearing shirts that exspose more of you neck and shoulders.

🔖After bonding you two stayed near each other having issues with separating for more than half an hour, this result in you leaving your dad's home moving into the dormitory Rin lives in both of you claimed a different room.

🔖Rin rebuilt his nest in both of yours room giving you full access.

🔖Others seem to keep asking you what it like in a alpha x alpha relationship, which confused you.

🔖But you simply answer with either ignoring them or "Just like any other relationship?"

🔖After becoming intimate, you love walking around him shirtless and pantsless. You can either get a blush or a horny moan out of him.

🔖Something more intimate is taking a bath with each other you can't keep your hands to yourself at times like these.

🔖giving each other pet names are normal and cute.

🔖Rin mostly prefers calling you- Babe, sweetheart or handsome/beautiful.

🔖You on the other hand call him- Baby cakes, love, Darling or idiot

🔖But in bed he once accidentally let a Daddy/mommy kink slip his mouth, it turned you on more than ever.

🔖But in bed you call his name mixed with a lot of dirty talk. Which gets him all rile up.

🔖Studying together is not a good option anymore you both can't concentrate, can't keep your hands off your lover, randomly start goofing off or get horny.

🔖You regularly get more piss off at Yukio more than Rin does, When mission come around your either stuck on a lame team or with Rin not allowed in the action.

🔖During the camping trip or exercise, instead of bringing back a lantern you kinda got lost in the forest.

🔖And only reunited with the others when Rin went viral, blue flames every where the trees burning and mist of the students were injured.

🔖Yes Amiomon did think about using you before Shiemi but it wasn't a good idea since Mephisto refused for obvious reasons.

🔖Number one the would have not been able to control you much less get underneath your skin though to your superior abilities.

🔖Number two you would've beating the shit out of Aniomon even if he wasn't your uncle.

🔖And lastly number 3 Your a demon with a class near Mephisto, he could've exspose it if you fought Amiomon but keeping you a secret from the order is more important than Rin.

🔖After all that crazy shit, Rin couldn't look you in the eye now you know he's a demon there could've been hope if he was just any other demon but his the span of satan himself.

🔖He doubt you would want to have him as your omega anymore.

🔖It sadden him and made him depress losing the cheerful happy attitude. Not just his behavior that changed as well as his scent it started becoming displeasing and disgusting.

🔖You treated him the same as you always do, you already knew everything since Mephisto opened his big mouth and blab to you long before you and Rin got together

🔖your also the first to feel the change in your omega, but thought it was cause of the way the others treat him.

🔖But it wasn't the same when he avoided you and didn't let you in him nest.

🔖At some point you had enough, doing something that an alpha shouldn't, you drag Rin straight out his nest to confront him

🔖It started in a argument leading of to crying and yelling, it ended with you mostly trashed the room, and the words never spoken once from you

🔖"I love you!" It made Rin extremely happy knowing you love him dearly.

🔖"I love you too"

🔖You two were finally on the same page again, continuing your relationship. Loving and cuddling.

🔖When the others treated Rin bad you where the one to comfort him and give him a not of ice cream.

🔖That's till Izumo birthday came aroun, You don't celebrate birthdays since your a demon and all much older than you look.

🔖You even helped Rin decorate the cake that was clearly Christmas themed, which confused you but you just brushed it off.

🔖Until Suguro yelled at you two claiming it was clearly not a birthday cake.

🔖They could understand Rin's explanation being that his birthday is really close to Christmas it is natural to celebrate the two on the same day not using up much money.

🔖You on the other hand were a different case, they where honestly worried, who would tell someone

🔖"I don't celebrate my birthday, I really don't care and truthfully I don't know the date to my birth?"

🔖What?

🔖Yes, you read it Mephisto never told you, and you really don't care about minor stuff like that.

🔖You suggest to them to just give the cake to Mephisto, your old man isn't much of a Christmas fan after all

🔖It was fun. And so where the rest of your days with Rin.

🔖Really happy.

***

Thanks sis for the request... I'm blocking you🤗❤

#blue exorcist #anime #fanfic #fem reader #male reader #rin okumura #rin x reader #ao no exorcist

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helahades · 4 years

Text

Can’t Give You Love

(Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader)

A/N: ***Important*** This story has strong noncon concepts, and delusional thoughts from Steve, who is the aggressor. None of these things are okay irl, and because of the sensitive nature of these concepts, warnings are below the cut.

This is my entry to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s recent challenge. ♥️♥️♥️My prompt: (#21) Character A meets Character B at a nightclub. Character A wants a one night stand but Character B wants more.

Summary: You take Steve home after a night out, celebrating your graduation. You fall asleep. Steve decides he hasn’t had enough.

Warnings: Smut. NSFW. Somnophilia, Delusional Steve. Justification of terrible thoughts via Steve’s POV. Mentions of blood and violence. Steve pretending to be a good guy.

Word Count: about 3.1k

—

Steve’s favorite part of the night is the beginning. Club goers come in all shapes and sizes, in all levels of modesty. To be in a world of such varied and unburdened interactions reminds him of the true simplicity at civilian level. Makes him feel almost human. Despite all his moral dilemmas, he is still a man though, and he isn’t just here to be thoughtful. He likes to look, and he’s he’s delighted when his eyes find you.

Watching you from the bar, he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the way you constantly pulled down the skirt of your curve hugging dress, the way you adjusted your “Congrats Grad!” pin like it would spear you to death right there on the dance floor, the way you would go to dance, swinging your hips each way like no one was watching. It excites him watching you, because you keep throwing tells that you’ve never done this before, that this isn’t your scene. For a while, he had been bored with that, but you’re not just a shy lamb, there’s something else.

Your laugh is uninhibited, and there’s a starter spark threatening to flame behind your eyes, dare any man get too touchy with you or your friends. Steve loves a protector.

When you approach the bar, it’s hardly for your first drink, but there are no indicators in your demeanor. He only knows because he’s been watching you all night.

You’re there for a moment, watching the workings behind the bar before turning to him.

“So,” you giggle, flame coming to life, “come here often?”

He’s hooked.

“Not at all actually. This isn’t really my scene.” A lie. He fidgets with his drink as a special touch.

Your eyes soften, empathetically and imperceptibly to anyone who wasn’t analyzing the fine details.

“To be honest… it’s not really mine either. Think I’d rather celebrate graduating by sleeping—But anyway, why’d you come out tonight if it’s… not your scene?”

You’re fully engaged. It seems that you love the game of conversation.

“The truth is… long winded.”

“Well,” you say softly as possible, still wanting to be heard over the pulsing of the bass, “I’m pretty tired of dancing, so you’d be doing me a favor giving me a reason to stay.”

You pull up a stool and prop your head on one arm.

With a soft chuckle, Steve continues.

“I guess…I had been looking for love. For… the one, yknow? And I didn’t realize until tonight that it’s not gonna happen.”

“What changed tonight?”

Your drink arrives.

“It’s nothing about tonight in particular, tonight’s just a night—but I’m sorry. You’re here to have a good time,” he finishes, scooting away just a bit as he does so. A test.

Your brow furrows and you think a bit before closing the gap. Smart girl. But he’s got you.

“I’d have a better time, literally anywhere else,” you giggle again, shifting and sitting up to sip your drink. Seeming to realize what you implied, you gather the boldness to finish it.

“So… do you wanna get out of here?”

—

You decide to drive, saying you only had that sip to drink. Steve says he believes you. He doesn't really mind anyway, and he can’t tell you he knows a different truth, lest he reveal himself.

Watching you as you talk as your minidress rides up your thighs, he realizes upon arrival that he can’t remember whether the drive was long. Sloppy of him.

You park the car and shift in your seat.

“I really want to kiss you—what was it?”

“Steve.”

“Steve,” you repeat, sitting back in the driver's seat.

“God I want to kiss you. I can’t show you love,” you taunt gently, in a comfortable way like you’ve known him forever, “but I can make you feel really good,” your voice finishes sweetly.

He feels his cock swell, and in that moment, a large warm hand is cradling your jaw and pulling you close for a sugary, tequila spiked kiss. His lips are plump, warm, now wet as you run your tongue over his bottom one.

From between your legs, heat rises all the way to your chest, and you break away to fumble for your house key.

As Steve sits, collecting air while you fumble with your pineapple keyring, he tries to recall, but he knows he’s never tasted anyone so sweet. You’re warm like muffins fresh out of the oven. You have just enough fight to convince yourself you’re hard to get, and that makes him dizzy.

He tries not to think about the fact that you’re already wet. Because he’s a gentleman. Always a gentleman first. Always the golden boy. Since retiring, he knows his role isn't what it used to be. Sam holds the shield with ease, and honestly, Steve had never pictured life without that shield and moniker before going on the run. When he was on the run, he was living from one moment to the next. Between here and there, he was never really thinking about his own wants, what would make HIM feel alive.

He’s living a different life, though, because now he can. He’s got all the time in the world. After too long of fighting some new cosmic force, of each threat being crazier than the last, he wants the old school life. That sentiment is one he had thought had left, and he wants to taste with you in case it does again.

Seeing your dress ride up your thighs tonight, he thinks of how his flannel might do the same while you cook him breakfast. But he would be right beside you helping, and you wouldn’t look as out of place as you did in that club, because secretly, domesticity with him is what you’re made for.

He’s no fool. He knows you don’t see it yet. But tonight he will bring you to the edge again and again before pulling you into a world of pleasure you’ve never known. And then you’ll know.

—

As he curves his hips up to meet yours, the squelching sounds your pussy makes are obscene. The ones from your mouth are even sexier, and it makes this all seem like a lucid dream. You’re riding him, and he’s...encouraging you by taking control from where he lies. You love it. He’s a gentleman, so he won’t be any rougher.

You say you like it rough, but you’ve never had rough from him. That’s a test for a later time. He doesn’t want to scare you.

“Ooh yea—Steve, please! Right there—like that, don’t stop!”

He doesn’t. He won’t. You don’t need to beg, but he loves it when you do.

Your thighs shake, your mouth falls open in that cute way it does, and you fall forward, catching your hands on his chest. You seem to be in love with the hair there, and everywhere on him. Something about that appeals to a monster in him he doesn’t address.

You wince when you finally dismount, pulling yourself off his incredible length, and looking down for the millionth time to check if the condom is still there, before he discards it. He tries not to roll his eyes as he comes back to lie with you. It’s ridiculous, really. You’re his now, there’s no need for this barrier. He holds the monster back that gives him thoughts of you round with his child.

You plop on the bed next to him and shuffle under the sheets.

“That was sooo good. Thank you. I’m so glad you’re not some creep,” and you giggle it like you do.

Scratching softly at his beard, your eyes close sleepily.

“You can let yourself out. I trust you.”

Hm. Of course you do. You’re his and he is yours. It’s already that easy.

He can’t understand why you want him to leave though, and as you drift off, he wonders if you noticed that he hasn’t shifted from his spot.

The crickets are chirping happily with the night, and after a few seconds, your sprinklers turn on. He thinks about kissing you goodnight, eating dinner together, cleaning the pool while you braid your hair.

Cool and light, fan turned air swirls over him as his back moulds into the mattress. It’s too soft, and somehow he's feeling a little too warm, but maybe that’s what new beginnings do.

Scratching his neck, he sighs at the ceiling before trailing his hand lower...lower… under the sheets, and down to squeeze his cock. It’s still damp with the wetness of you, and he gives it one more slow squeeze. There’s excitement there lingering, and he knows he hasn’t had enough yet.

He could jerk off right here next to you. You’re asleep and you would never know. Maybe he could even cum on your naked stomach, rub it in a bit. Maybe he could cum in your mouth. He tries to blink that thought away. But his cum would look so nice on your pretty skin, or even…

Inside you.

He can’t. You’re asleep. He’s already had you once. He should be sated. All of a sudden, he remembers asking about your New York license plate. He remembers you saying you’d lived there for years before coming out here. And it’s easy for him to conclude that he’s saved you. At least once.

For every threat that plagued New York while he was an Avenger, you’re alive and snoring softly next to him, and that has to be fate. He may not be a hero now, but he was once, and that counts for something right? And he saved your life, at least indirectly. And he can’t ignore your soft breaths pushing past your plump lips, and the way you face him in your sleep like he’s your lover. He’d only be taking what he’s owed. It’s the least he can accept in return for your life.

Tentatively, he shifts and lifts an arm and gently strokes your bottom lip with a thumb. Pushing it just past where your mouth is slightly open, and behind your teeth to push gently on your tongue. The wetness of it is arousing enough, but he pushes further back, and feels your throat constrict in a gag, wetness moving around him pushing his finger to the roof of your mouth.

Then, you’re pulling your head back, gentle discomfort clouding your sleeping features. A pause. And with a rolling slow stretch, you’re lying on your back, legs spread. It’s practically an invitation.

Moving over you, he winces at the way the rubbing sound of his skin on the sheets sounds like an earthquake in the quietness of your room. Propping himself up, covering you like shade, he's aware of the shape of your body’s heat pressed up against such a large surface area of him, and it stirs something deep and dormant. He can practically feel the blood rush to his cock again.

He pushes your thighs further apart with his own, and notes the smoothness of your skin against his, which is hairier. (He abandoned shaving entirely once he dropped the life of being an international symbol. It’s the small protests.)

A choked groan escapes him as he rubs the tip of his cock over your clothed clit, and his breath blows a couple hairs against your forehead.

He pauses.

He hears your fan slicing through the high air.

He hears your refrigerator make a shifting sound as the ice machine starts in the distance.

Most importantly, he hears your breath, still coming even. He chances another rub, pleasure shooting through him like lighting.

Something about both being so close to you again, but also the thought of getting caught in this compromising position has his body alive.

It’s the way he would feel in fights as his younger self, when being a hero was new, and he didn’t know where the next attack would come from. Before violence turned to muscle memory.

Steve decides you’re much prettier than violence, and he likes the wetness of your cunt, of your tongue swirling, much better than the feel of blood streaming over his hands. He lives for this, and the chance of having you while you’re sleeping is a new thrill.

He doesn’t want to take too long really, and he’s not proud of it, but he moves slowly, and pulls his knife from his pants on the floor, inches down your body, and slices your panties open with the blade.

The sound of the fabric ripping is new. Taboo. And he’s harder than before, excitement squeezing his chest. He pauses there for a moment, eye level with your cunt, noticing the slight glisten, noticing flower like curves, remembering how you feel inside.

Scooting a pillow out of the way, he straightens up and sits back on his calves, appreciating you fully. Then, he’s closer, quicker, less careful, as his hands land just over the bend of your knees to turn your thighs out, opening you up to him, then pushing your legs further apart.

It’s really not the time, but he thinks about his life before the serum. On the days when all he could do was sit in bed, draw—but most importantly—think, he would think about a wife. His brain would tease him with fantasies about things he thought he could never have. He would think about being stronger, able to make love to his girl the right way.

He won’t waste his chance now. Coming back up and positioning himself over you once more, he grips the base of his cock and bites his lip, tapping it a couple times on your sensitive pussy.

He freezes when you shift your hips.

A moment.

A breath.

Then the head of his cock breaches your walls and the rest of him follows. You’re not as wet as you were when he first had you, but that can be remedied. It makes the squeeze feel tighter, the moment feel longer. He’s kissing on your neck now, slowly pulling all the way out, before pushing deep back in, relishing in this unbearably and oddly pleasurable friction.

Your breathing quickens, somehow still even, and he needs to be closer. Rolling his hips into you, he’s right against you, damn near balls deep, and he doesn’t know if he’ll last, hearing all your sleeping whines.

He’s obsessed with how your breasts bounce. Your nipples are hardened by the cold, and this stimulation, and they draw small circles in the air with each thrust. His eyes flicker to your face one last time, and as a wave of pleasure rolls through him, his monster deciding he’s done being a gentleman.

With another thrust, and a softly choked groan into the silent night, a wave of your slick is rushing around him, and the sounds drive him crazy. Over and over, he thrusts into you. Gentleness gone, along with his cool reservation of the sounds of his pleasure, he’s damn near growling now, hooked on having you this way.

He adjusts himself, wanting to see the exact motions that are moving you up the bed, that have you whining, your sounds losing their softness. Each time he plunges into you he shudders. The wetness of you, the way he’s using you, the way he can take what he pleases, and the thought you’ll maybe only know because of the soreness.

He slows, cock pulsing, for gentler thrusts. Not for you, but for the artists details. He canvases the soft ridges inside you that have him like a vice grip. Takes the time to note the sharp, raw scent of you mixing with him.

Sitting up and back, he pulls you by the hips from where you lie, your ass lifting off the mattress, and your upper body still unresistant to his manipulations. He has a better view of you now, rubbing the head of his cock over your clit, around your entrance, tapping it on your mound to tease himself. He’s rewarded with another gush of wetness, and it runs down his cock, down his balls, into your sheets, and as he pulls you onto his length again, he growls when he catches the scent swirling through the air.

You’re so fucking pretty like this. He can’t believe he’s never had anyone this way. Then, he realizes, it’s special. For just the two of you, as lovers.

He feels a tug. A throb in the base of his cock then upwards as pleasure overtakes him. He chuckles wickedly, and that cuts off in a hedonistic moan as he knows you won’t be able to stop him. He hears you try to tease that he’s not ready for kids, hears the edge of fear in your voice from before. You don’t do this all the time, and it’d be terrible for a stranger to impregnate you.

But Steve is different. He’s not a stranger. He’s the one for you. You just don’t know it yet. He fucks into you angrier, ignoring how he's overstimulated, how your pussy is puffy and raw, remembers how you told him to let himself out. It would be another joke to laugh to had you not meant it. He just has to feel you. Has to see you take his cum like you were meant to. It’s not his fault. It would have been easier, more gentlemanly had you let him while you were awake.

He’s only a man, really, he has to take what he wants. The feeling swells in his balls again, the pressure of coming release running up his shaft, and his cock feels even harder somehow.

Rushing through him as his thrusts get weaker and he leans more weight on you, the bliss of your wetness squeezing and tugging him involuntarily is indescribable.

He gasps, filling the whole of his lungs, curving his hips into you with short, desperate stutters, stronger pressure pushing up the base of his cock, before finally releasing into you with a deep groan. The new loose feeling, this mess, has him seeing stars.

Steve can’t help but to pause, not because you’re waking up, but because he’s feeling his cum take form wherever it can fit around his cock thats pulsing inside your pussy that’s throbbing too. What can’t fit spills out of you, dripping and smearing, and in his post orgasm haze, he slowly fucks it back in. He pushes it in deep with a wicked moan, thighs shaking in pleasure.

It’s done.

And when the clouds leave your eyes, and you’re really awake as he pulls out of you, flinching at your own sensitivity, your eyes widen in horror as a hand flies between your legs, still processing what he’s done.

And because he’s a gentleman, he has to ask.

“What’s wrong, lover?”

—

(reblogs appreciated!)

tags: (only tagging people I know are comfortable with dark fics) @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @threeminutesoflife @honeychicanawrites @avintagekiss24 @xbuchananbarnes @sapphirescrolls @jtargaryen18

#dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #darkficswithroo #dark fics with roo #writing challenge #dark fanfic #black!reader #woc!reader #steve x black!reader #steve x woc!reader

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fischerfrey · 3 years

Photo

Chapter 1: What Lies Ahead

Summary: A new year is starting at Hogwarts and Verna Malinda is entering her fifth year. She may have a little too much on her plate for the upcoming year though, because she’s been elected prefect...

Pairings: Eventual OC/Merula Snyde

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Mild swearing

A/N: Matthew Luther belongs to @hphmmatthewluther

As this is a rewrite, some of the dialogue is from the game either directly, or modified to fit the new narrative.

If anyone is interested in being tagged to new upates, let me know!

(Verna was born in December 1972, so she was 13 during the autumn term of her 2nd year)

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Chapter 1: What Lies Ahead

Verna Malinda had been anxiously awaiting the beginning of her fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, even with a detention of indeterminate length looming in front of her. She knew in her heart that this year was going to be important, and not just because of the O.W.L. examinations but because of the events of last June, and the chance of finding Jacob in the next vault. For Verna, summers had, for the past four years, felt like an inescapable limbo. Every year she longed to be back at Hogwarts, delving into the mystery of the Cursed Vaults. This year, however, she had been elected as a prefect to her great surprise. She hadn’t really considered prefectdom as something to aspire to, because all her time was spent either breaking the rules or planning to break them. Was it really appropriate for a Hogwarts prefect to be serving detention? Mysterious were the ways of Professor Dumbledore.

As the Hogwarts Express whistled as a signal for departure, Verna waved to her father from the train’s window and then turned to her friend, Rowan Khanna, the one out of the two of them who should’ve been the prefect. Rowan pushed their glasses up their nose and smiled.

“What is it?”

“I ought to go find Charlie,” Verna said as the train picked up speed. She’d been feeling all kinds of weird about talking to Rowan ever since she got the letter proclaiming her prefect. It had been Rowan’s ambition to claim that spot ever since year one, and somehow Verna had managed it even though she hadn’t even tried.

“Alright, I’ll find Ben. We’ll hold a spot for you, if you get a moment to come sit with us,” Rowan replied and the two headed their separate ways. So far it didn’t seem like Rowan was holding Verna’s election as a prefect against her. Even in their letters, Rowan had only seemed supportive and proud. They had been friends since first year, and Verna hadn’t exactly stolen Rowan’s spot on purpose. In fact, she was fairly certain she had entirely too much on her plate for this year even without being a prefect.

Once Verna located Charlie Weasley, Gryffindor’s resident Dragon-enthusiast and Quidditch hero, and as it happened, her fellow prefect, the two of them headed to the special carriage meant for prefects and the Head Boy and Girl.

“What in Merlin’s name possessed Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall to make you and I prefects?” asked Charlie, sounding genuinely confused, although in his defence, it was truly baffling.

“I have a theory that it’s to make us so busy we won’t have time to do any curse-breaking,” Verna reasoned.

“Bill’s a prefect and he’s had plenty of time,” Charlie argued but then added: “Though maybe that’s why he became the Head Boy… Wow, actually you might be right.”

“Thanks Chaz,” Verna laughed as the two entered the prefect carriage. It was already quite packed with new and old prefects, as well as Bill and the Head Girl, Ella Higgs.

“Are we late because I had to wait for you…?” Charlie whispered and Verna shushed him as Ella and Bill started to congratulate them on their achievement. Verna locked eyes with a certain Slytherin student across the carriage. Apparently Merula Snyde had also become a prefect. Verna should’ve expected as much. Her hair looked tousled as usual, but she had elected to sport a dark eye-makeup, which somehow made the purple of her eyes look even more prominent. Merula gave her a look of loathing and then promptly ignored her. Verna’s mood sunk.

“Hi Verna!” came a greeting from among the other fifth-year prefects. It was Matthew Luther, a Ravenclaw chaser who had given Verna a run for her galleons last quidditch season. Verna was pleased to see not only complete arseholes had become prefects.

“Hey!” Verna replied, taking her place among the others.

“Hi Luther,” Charlie whispered, smiling.

“Nice to see you two made it as prefects.”

Verna was about to answer but was quickly silenced by Bill who very deliberately raised his voice and started his introduction to the wonderful world of prefectdom, looking at the three of them meaningfully.

After nearly an hour of instruction, Bill and Ella bade them pleasant journey and reminded them of their job to patrol the corridors in regular intervals. After that, many returned to their friends or settled down in the prefects’ carriage. Bill walked up to Verna and Charlie.

“Congrats on becoming a prefect Verna!” he said and slapped her arm for good measure.

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to be as responsible as you, William.”

Bill laughed and Charlie rolled his eyes.

“Well, I for one think you two will do just fine,” added Bill.

“If you say so…” Charlie mused. “Should we find Rowan and Ben?” he asked Verna.

“Yeah, see you later Bill!”

“Remember to patrol the corridors! And don’t abuse your power!” Bill called after them as Verna and Charlie headed back to find the compartment their friends were sitting in.

“I don’t think he actually has as much faith in us as he lets on…” Charlie said.

“Yeah, probably not. After all he lives with you, and I’m the one who roped him into this curse-breaking stuff in the first place.”

“Yeah, at the ripe old age of 13.” reminded Charlie. Verna was really starting to doubt Professor Dumbledore’s judgement.

Rowan and Ben had found a carriage and reserved spots for them. The two seemed in good spirits and Verna felt much more relaxed. If Rowan was on her side, then everything was going to be okay. Even Ben seemed to be okay, even after he was used to attack Verna under the imperius curse last year.

“How was it?” asked Ben as Verna and Charlie took their seats. He glanced quickly at Rowan, who nodded encouragingly. Verna figured Rowan and Ben had been discussing the incident before she and Charlie arrived. The food trolley had passed ages ago, so Verna nicked a treacle tart from Rowan who gave her an exasperated but amused look.

“Pretty standard stuff, honestly. They explained everything we were told in the briefing about prefects at the end of last year,” explained Charlie.

“Who else was elected?” Rowan inquired.

“Oh you’ll never guess Slytherin’s-“

“Merula,” Rowan said before Charlie could finish.

“Yeah, and she seemed right pleased about it too, I bet she’s gonna have a blast abusing her position,” Verna grumbled. She really was not looking forward to yet another thing to compete over with Merula.

“Not if we abuse our position first,” Charlie said, grinning.

“No,” Rowan admonished them when they saw Verna’s matching grin.

“I’ll disown you both if you sink to her level.”

Both Charlie and Verna stopped grinning.

“Sorry Rowan,” Verna said bashfully. “We’ll try our best to make you proud.”

Rowan groaned in mock-annoyance, and all four of them laughed at the absurdity of the notion of Charlie and Verna as prefects. Even Ben. Verna’s hopes for the year were rejuvenated a little.

The rest of the journey went by in a relatively normal manner. Verna and Charlie patrolled the corridors every now and then but didn’t face any incidents. Tonks gave them both grief about becoming prefects though, and loudly announced that this is why she had trust issues. Verna couldn’t exactly blame her, they had after, pulled pranks together in the past and prefects had a well-earned reputation of being spoilsports. After sunset, the train arrived at the Hogsmeade Station and Charlie and Verna were again required to perform their new duties. Verna hadn’t really thought about how small the first years looked until they all filed out of the train and followed Hagrid to the boats. It wasn’t that long ago she had been in their shoes, completely terrified and anxious to start looking for her brother. Jacob. The thought stung like a wasp. It had taken four years and she was no closer to finding him as she was to finding the next cursed vault. Jacob had always been there to protect her and help her and what good was she, if she couldn’t do the same for him?

The Great Hall was all decked out for the Welcome Feast when they entered. Verna always felt a sense of belonging at the sight of Hogwarts, but it was also always mixed with something like dread. This year instead of Professor Dumbledore, it was Professor McGonagall taking the podium to hold the traditional speech after the Sorting. Apparently, the Headmaster was on an errand outside of Hogwarts. They were also going to have a new teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts, which at this point surprised no one. The new DADA professor did surprise Verna, though. It was Madam Rakepick, the curse breaker Dumbledore had hired to investigate the vaults last year. Rakepick turned her eyes to Verna and something passed across her features, but Verna couldn’t place the expression. Then, just as fast as it had arrived, it passed, and McGonagall bid everyone dig in their food.

After the feast, as Verna and Charlie were getting ready to herd all the new Gryffindors (including Bill and Charlie’s little brother Percy) to their common room, Penny walked up to them, looking excited.

“Hey!” she beamed and tailing behind her was a small blonde girl who looked very much like Penny. “How was your summer?”

“Oh, you know, researching advanced curses, eagerly awaiting for my detention this year, the usual” Verna joked.

“I worked on my extra credit stuff for Professor Kettleburn,” Charlie said. “And hung out with my siblings. Fred and George have gotten it into their heads they wanna be the best quidditch players in the world and I have to be their coach.”

“That sounds really nice! We need to catch up more later, I just wanted to introduce you two to my sister, Beatrice,” Penny exclaimed, and the younger girl waved her hand at them.

“Hi,” she said, rather excitably.

“Hi Beatrice, I’m Verna and this is Charlie.”

Next to her Charlie smiled wide and shook Beatrice’s hand. It seemed to Verna that she appreciated being treated like a grown-up.

“Figured you were Penny’s sister when they called Haywood during the Sorting,” Charlie said.

Beatrice nodded. “And now we’re both in Hufflepuff! I was hoping for it, but I would’ve been happy with Gryffindor too.”

“Bea is… sort of a fan of yours,” Penny explained looking at Verna. “She’s always asking me to tell her stories of my adventures with the famous curse-breaker Verna Malinda.”

“Now I can join you!” Beatrice said. “To find your brother and the cursed vaults.”

This, admittedly, took Verna by surprise. She glanced at Penny who, by the look on her face, had not expected this either.

“Bea…” Penny whispered.

“I mean it, I want to help,” Beatrice insisted.

“Well… Maybe you can help with some small things, but I’ll be honest with you, it’s really dangerous stuff,” Verna told the young witch and hoped that was the end of it. No such luck.

“You investigated the cursed ice when you were just first-years,” Beatrice protested.

“That’s… true…” Penny admitted but didn’t look happy about it.

“And Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who when he was just a baby!”

“She has a point, you know,” Charlie cut in.

“Knock it off, Weasley. There’ll be plenty of time for death-defying adventures when you’re older Bea, for now you can just show Verna what you made for her,” Penny said with a glare at Charlie, who seemed vaguely apologetic.

With only a little complaining, Beatrice presented Verna with a yellow, self-made puffskein toy. It was extremely cute, and the gesture made Verna wonder how much Penny had exaggerated her stories.

“Thank you, Beatrice, this is super cool,” she said as she inspected the stuffed animal. After that, she was served to a story about shaving the Haywoods’ pet puffskein every week for the hairs to make the toy, after which Penny had clearly had her fill, because she whisked Beatrice away and Charlie arched an eyebrow. “Wow, they really do just keep getting smaller.”

Up in the Gryffindor Tower, the young students were excited but obviously tired, so Verna kept her introduction short and let them explore on their own or just go to bed. After that, the two new prefects made their way to their favourite corner of the common room. The couch there was already occupied by Rowan and Ben.

“Hey guys,” said Ben meekly behind his new Charms textbook.

Charlie squished into the vacant spot between Rowan and the armrest, while Verna sat on the floor, not bothering to drag the nearest chair closer.

“I think I’m going to possibly have a mental breakdown this year,” she mused. “I mean I still have to find my brother, do normal homework, play Quidditch, study for O.W.L.s, and now be a prefect.”

“If you had started studying for the O.W.L.s first year like I told you, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Rowan simply said. It’s not like they were wrong, but Verna still rolled her eyes.

“Literally no one else but you does that, Rowan” Charlie jumped into her defence, which Verna appreciated. She fist bumped Charlie over Rowan’s lap.

“You two are impossible,” Rowan said warmly and turned to look at Ben. Verna followed their gaze and noticed Ben looked distinctly uncomfortable. Well, more than usual.

“Ben…” she started.

“I just wanna say I’m sorry,” Ben blurted out. “I know you already said it’s fine last year, but I don’t think it’s fine. I’m too easy a target to use against you, and I don’t think you should include me in your plans anymore.”

Verna stared at him for a moment, trying to find words. Any one of her friends could’ve been used as a pawn by a dark wizard. After all, they were only students up against adult wizards.

“Ben, I get it. I’d probably feel the same way if it was me in your shoes right now, because it easily could be. You’re not weak for losing against an adult.”

Ben bit his lip nervously. “But I-“

“We need you. You’re one of my best friends and nobody blames you for what happened,” Verna countered before Ben could form a proper argument.

“In the train you lot acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary when everything is!” he slumped against the couch and let the textbook fall into his lap. “I’m going to bed.”

With that, Ben got up and disappeared into the boys’ dormitory, his friends’ pleas falling on deaf ears. Verna looked at Charlie and Rowan.

“Maybe he just needs some more time…” Charlie mused.

“I think I was too harsh on him last year,” Rowan said. “I apologized though. In the train. We had a whole chat about it.”

“I’m glad,” Verna said with a smile. It hadn’t felt right, when Ben and Rowan weren’t on speaking terms.

“He just hasn’t had the easiest time at Hogwarts,” Rowan continued. “And all this business with the vaults… I think it has us all on edge.”

“Understatement of the year…” muttered Charlie.

“Well… It’s only the first day of it, we’ll have plenty of time to make more understatements,” said Rowan gloomily.

#hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm fic #charlie weasley #merula snyde #verna malinda #*my writing #vmatcv #*mine #this is really character driven #idk anything about writing a consistent story longer than one chapter so we'll see how this goes #any constructive criticism is appreciated #i'm NOT a professional writer in any shape or form #and i feel like i have to state this every time but english isn't my native language #basically i have no idea if this is any good but i can't keep fiddling with it anymore or i'll never post it #*hits post and hides under a rock for 3 business days*

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iwach4n · 4 years

Note

Aww congrats to 500, you really deserve it!!! Love your writings, they are all soooo good! 💖👈🏻👏🏻 May I request 94 with ushijima? 🙈 ily, thank you!!

🥺🥺🥺 thank you sm bby ily. This turned out longer than I thought it would be but I'm not complaining.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

prompt: "Will you shut up so I can kiss you."

pairing: ushijima x reader

word count: 1322

read time: 5 minutes

synopsis: Friday afternoons are reserved for ranting to Ushijima about whatever is on your mind. This week, it's that you haven't had your first kiss yet.

warnings: none? a short mention of something that implies sex ig?

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

500 Follower Event Details

Friday afternoons in Ushijima's dorm were always your favourites - you couldn't help but get excited when you got his message that he was finished with volleyball practice and that you were free to come over. Granted, these texts were phrased the exact same way every week, and you were starting to suspect he copy and pasted them, but you knew he didn't mean anything by that. After three years of friendship, it was common sense to you that, while his emotions may not be obvious, his intentions were always clear.

Which is why, every week without fail, you made your way over to his dorm to hang out. There was something about the room that relaxed you after a long week. And, well, Ushijima put you at ease too. The way he'd sit quietly and listen to you rant, the 'gentle giant' persona he had off court, the soft, fond smile that graced his lips once in a while - it all worked to make your heart race in the most comforting way possible.

You relished in the routine - come over when he texts you, sit on his desk chair while he lies across the bed, vent out your frustrations to him, ask him how volleyball went (and often learn a new term or fact about the sport when he had to explain), offer him snacks that you brought along and pout at him until he accepted, go back to your dorm with ten minutes to curfew. Which is why you were completely thrown off when step two was made impossible.

"Tendou needed two chairs for something so I lent him mine. You're going to have to join me on the bed for today, unless you'd prefer the floor."

That made your heart race in a less than comforting way. It had been over a year since you'd come to terms with your feelings for him, and barely less since you'd come to terms with the fact that he'd never return them. He treated you the same as any of his friends, and somehow, you found it hard to believe that even Ushijima managed to act so cool around a crush.

For a moment, you considered sitting on the floor, but the prospect gave you flashbacks to the time you didn't want to tidy up your desk, and so resigned to doing an entire project on the floor. The wooden boards of the Shiratorizawa dorms were uncomfortable as all hell, and you had vowed 'never again'. Besides, it wasn't like you hadn't been in close proximity with him before. It would be fine, right?

"The hell does Tendou need two chairs for anyway?" you asked, sitting yourself crossed legged by Ushijima's side. He lay in the same position as usual, yet pressed further towards the wall so you had enough space. You didn't know if he meant for you to lie down beside him, but you didn't trust yourself not to do something stupid if that happened.

"He said he's getting tutored and wants to do it in his room," Ushijima replied, to which you scoffed.

"Yeah right. More like he's found some cute girl with marginally better grades than him and he's using that as an excuse to have some fun with her."

"You think?" Ushijima had always been a bit oblivious when it came to matters like that, but for you the situation was obvious.

"I mean, firstly Tendou doesn't need tutoring. He manages just fine on his own. And even then, why in his dorm and not at the library or something?"

Wakatoshi hummed in agreement as he considered your explanation. You sighed in thought, leaning across him to rest your head on the wall. The idea of Tendou getting it on with some girl he barely knew, while you sat two doors down, chatting about it with your crush, who you'd been friends with for years, was almost painful.

"Don't take this the wrong way, because Tendou's awesome, but I cannot believe I've caught him making out with someone twice and I'm still yet to have my first kiss."

'Oh,' Ushijima thought, 'so this the rant of the day.'

"I don't mean that to say Tendou shouldn't be kissing people. Like, good for him! But I personally think I should too."

"I haven't had my first kiss either, if that makes you feel better," he commented. Just like you, he had always been single, and he was never the type for parties, let alone kissing random people at them. Either way, it didn't seem to help.

"That's different though," you groaned, "people actually want to kiss you."

"Really?"

"I mean, yeah. You're considered, like, one of the hottest guys in the school. Did you not know about that?"

"Oh. No, I didn't."

You almost laughed at how naïve he was to his own attractiveness, but you quickly decided to move on from the topic, because that was as close as you wanted to get to calling him hot to his face.

"But that's why its different. You could easily get your first kiss if you wanted to. Me, on the other hand?"

And there you went again. Ranting about how you could probably get a kiss if you tried, but first kisses are supposed to be special, so you didn't want to waste it on someone random. But then again, who goes to university without having ever kissed anyone?

Normally, Ushijima didn't mind listening to you vent. In fact, he weirdly enjoyed it. Not only did he help you to relieve stress and fix your problems, he also got to listen to your voice for a while. But today, with your back grazing against his legs, and the fact that you had called him hot minutes earlier, and the simple fact that you were rambling about how much you wanted to kiss someone, he found himself wishing you would just be quiet and let him respond.

Sitting up in the bed so that he was eye level with you, he waited for you to pause for breath - he didn't want to interrupt you completely.

"Will you shut up so I can kiss you?"

He didn't sound annoyed - in fact, Ushijima said this with the same casual tone you would ask someone to pass you the salt at dinner. Even so, his words were enough to stun you into silence.

Taking the fact that you stayed quiet as agreement, he swooped down to press a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. Despite how innocent it was, it still left you dazed, and this caused him to smile that fond smile of his, which did nothing to help.

"I... cannot believe that just happened," you managed, causing a soft chuckle to escape his throat.

"It was just a kiss."

"My first kiss!"

"And mine."

Embarrassment getting the better of you, you resigned to hiding your face in Ushijima's chest, which he didn't complain about. Instead, his fingers went to your hair, gently stroking and toying with it. He'd always thought you had nice hair, but his chance to play with it was brief, because soon enough he felt you take a deep breath against him before removing yourself from his arms and looking up at him.

"Next Friday, instead of hanging out here, do you maybe want to go out somewhere?" you asked, somehow keeping eye contact throughout the whole sentence.

"Like a date?"

Ushijima cocked his eyebrow as he said this, a curious smile playing at his lips. He'd never been the type for teasing, but once in a while, he took a small opportunity.

"Y-Yeah..."

"Of course."

Allowing yourself to relax, you shot him a winning smile, causing an almost undetectable amount of blush to rise to his cheeks. Shuffling over to sit by his side, you lay your head on his shoulder, deciding to go back to the routine.

"So, how was volleyball?"

#haikyuu!!#anime #manga #haikyuu #haikyuuwritersnet #haikyū!!#hq #hq ushijima x reader #hq ushijima #ushijima x reader #ushiwaka #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #shiratorizawa #500 follower event

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versdan · 5 years

Text

Not All That (College!Carol Danvers x Reader)

Summary: Carol puts on a big persona being one of the most infamous jocks in the school. But what happens when someone like you can see right through it?

A/N: This is for @stuckonjbbarnes ‘ writing challenge! I’m so sorry this is hella late oh my- but! congrats again babes! I’m a sucker for college!Carol omf- Also, I took some lines out from the lyrics so some may be missing if you know the song. Also, quick thank you to my tumblr gf/mob gf @envoyofyagami for proof reading this. Love you babe 💞 I hope you guys enjoy & sorry for any typos! Requests are open!

Song: Cooler Than Me - Mike Posner

Pairings: Carol Danvers x F!Reader

AU: Frat/F-boy/College ish

lyrics are italicized & bolded!

please don’t repost/plagerize my work! x

———

If I could write you a song to make you fall in love

I would already have you up under my arm

You don’t know what your infatuation was with her. Maybe it was her confidence or the way that she just went about her life not caring but it pulled you in hard. Carol was one of the most talked about individuals on campus, having been known for her attitude towards people and just known as the life of the party. So when she began to develop a bit of a soft spot for you, it almost seemed to change her demeanor around her friends.

You both had been roommates since the beginning of your second year in college so you both had a small connection already which only allowed your feelings to blossom for the girl.

I used up all my tricks, I hope that you like this

But, you probably won't, you think you're cooler than me

You had tried to push through Carols’ tough girl act but you couldn’t seem to budge through and it made you a bit sad. You had wanted to get to know her and yet it almost seemed as if she had begun to shut you out once she began to open up slightly. You never wanted to push Carol to her breaking point but it felt as if you did a bit.

Carol on the other hand was scared. She was scared to fall for someone again for her just to end up broken hearted like in her previous relationship. When she felt herself growing feelings towards you, she immediately separated herself from the friendship out of a good decision for herself, or so she thought it was.

When you saw that she was spending less time in your dorm together and eventually moved out to live in the frat house along with the other mates, you felt worse for even trying to pester her with questions in the first place. You tried to not think about her and hang out with your new roommate but no one can replace Carol in your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about her and it hurt to see her around campus as you both acted like strangers.

And you never say hey, or remember my name

And it's probably 'cause you think you're cooler than me

In class, it was odd sitting next to each other. Not speaking a word when you both were known for being the loudest pair in class during lectures that you’d even get in trouble more than once from the professor and other classmates. Carol eventually stopped showing up or even moved her seat to another row, far from you and that’s when you knew things had definitely changed. You had no choice but to accept this big change even if you didn’t like it.

You sat in your room, studying for your bio exam you had in two days so light cramming was your go to at the moment so you wouldn’t cram every chapter the day of. Your roommate came rushing into the room, throwing the book bag onto her bed before throwing herself on top of yours, laying all over your papers and notes. You sat there staring at her before laughing. “You alright?”

She sighed, rolling over onto her back, extending her arms out. “Classes are so boring. I feel like I am mentally drained that even answering the simple question of what is two plus two makes me blank” she said, rubbing her eyes with her fingers as you shook your head, continuing to write down notes.

“And watching you write notes, isn’t helping! Come on, (Y/N). Let’s go to the frat party tonight, everyone in the dorm is talking about it” She said, lowering your notebook from your hands as you sighed.

“I have to study for this exam, you know this” you told her, looking at her as she gave you puppy eyes. Sighing, you closed your notebook, knowing you couldn't resist the puppy eyes. “Fine. But don’t think this will happen again” you told her as she screamed getting up and running over to the shared closet for an outfit to wear.

You dreaded wanting to go to this party. You knew it was gonna be at the frat house Carol hangs out the most at and you didn’t want to run into her after everything that has happened. But another part of you wanted to show up to the party and forget about everything. To just let loose and if Carol sees, then Carol sees.

“Oh, what the hell” you said to yourself, getting up to go to your dresser trying to find something to wear as well.

But you don't know the way that you look

When your steps make that much noise

You both arrived at the party and the front lawn was already trashed with loads of people outside, making out or talking to one another. Walking through the front door, the music immediately made your head pound. Your roommate weaved her way easily through the crowd, leaving you alone. Typical.

Making your way to the kitchen, you grabbed an empty cup and filled it with the nearest drink you could grab and took a sip. It burned a bit but it was bearable. Looking around the kitchen and into the living room, you had underestimated how many more people there were tonight compared to every other party. Letting out a breath you tried to look for your roommate so you wouldn’t be alone at this party.

When looking around the room, you had locked eyes with Carol. She stood near the doorway, seeming to have to just walked in as she stopped greeting people midway. Your breathing hitched as a part of you almost seemed to flutter after not seeing her for so long. Turning around quickly and downing your drink, you threw your cup away. A random guy who had seen you down the drink, looked at you in awe. “Beat it” you spoke out softly before walking out the kitchen.

Walking past people dancing and away from the eye site of Carol, you made your way to the other side of the house where it was less packed with people and took a seat on the couch. You let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding in. It was predictable that you were going to see her tonight no matter if you were going to hide in the farthest corner of the house or not, but you didn’t think a part of you would want to see her. Would want to talk to her tonight and just be close to her.

“You shouldn’t think too hard, ya know. It’s not good for you” you heard a voice say which pulled you out of your thoughts. Looking up, Carol stood smirking down at you while holding a drink. She took a seat next to you as you turned a bit away from her.

“Oh, come on. We’re old friends, don’t act like a stranger now” she said, taking a drink from her cup, looking away as you looked towards her and scoffing. She didn’t just call you a stranger

“You’re really one to talk and call me a stranger” you said, rolling your eyes as she turned to look at you giving a small smile.

“Oh, look! she speaks” Carol teased as you scoffed again, getting up to walk away before Carol reached out for your wrist and grabbing it.

“I’m only teasing. Come on, you know me (Y/N).” she told you as you turned to look at her, feeling anger bubble up inside you.

Shh, I got you all figured out

You need everyone's eyes just to feel seen

“Do I know you? because the Carol I know wouldn’t just leave me with no explanation” you told her as you saw her shoulders drop a bit as she let go of your wrist. A part of you didn’t want her to let go of you. You missed her touch already and it was only there for a good 30 seconds.

“I know, I just-” she started but you interrupted her.

“You just what? Found better people to hang out with? Shut me out completely even if we had made a pact? I was there for you and you knew that yet you still shut me out” you told her, finally airing it out to her but you couldn’t tell if it hurt to say that or felt good. You didn’t want to cry at a stupid frat party but here you were, beginning to tear up infront of your long-time crush.

Carol looked at you and placed a hand onto your cheek to which you leaned into her touch, closing your eyes for a second before looking at her.

Behind your makeup nobody knows who you even are

Who do you think that you are

“I miss you Carol. The real you, not this version of yourself that I lost you to” you said softly and it broke Carol’s heart. She knew she shouldn’t have pushed you away for any reason but she was scared.

“I’m sorry. I was scared of what really was happening. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you that I was falling for you because I was scared that once I had you, I would lose you. I never wanted to lose you and that is exactly what happened” Carol said, feeling a weight off her shoulders finally telling you how she felt. You shook your head at her, grabbing her hand that was on your face and taking it into both your hands.

“I’m still here for you. I’m always going to be here and you know that” You told her, pulling her in for a hug to which she returned. Everything felt okay in that moment, like all had returned to normal and never changed. You closed your eyes and savored the moment before Carol pulled back, placing her hands on either side of your face before leaning in and pressing her lips against yours. You kissed her back, placing your arms on her shoulders. You smiled into the kiss before pulling away and hearing a few cheers around you both. Looking over you saw Tony and Steve cheering you both on as you let out a small chuckle.

“Let me re-introduce myself” Carol said, looking back at you, pulling away slowly and outstretching her hand. “My name is Carol and I think you are absolutely stunning” she said with a smile. You let out a chuckle, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you, Carol. I’m (Y/N) and you’re not so bad yourself” you said, smiling at her as she raised your hand making you turn so your back was against her. She placed a kiss on your neck before wrapping her arms around your waist as you both swayed to the music. Maybe you both lost each other for a reason in order to find yourselves in the end.

-----

feedback is appreciated!

#carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers one shot #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel #captain marvel imagine #captain marvel one shot #captain marvel fanfiction #brie larson #captain marvel au #carol danvers au #marvel #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #gigglygwil carol

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heartofholland · 4 years

Text

bitter - p.p.

summary: you worked your whole life for this, and peter parker took it away without a single second thought.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: a bit of swearing but for comedic effect i swear

authors note: this is my first (and most likely last) time writing. if its not good blame my C in english <3. this idea randomly came to me in the middle of the night and i though i’d give it a shot. shoutout @hollanderheart for not only motivating me to write and post this but also being my own personal hype woman at all times. enjoy!!

---

You had never had a solid reason to hate Peter Parker. He was smart, quiet, and always kind to you and everyone around him. You thought he was a nice boy, and never had a problem with him. Until now.

Until Peter fucking Parker stole your internship.

The news was initially broken to you through hallway gossip. Not believing the story, you went straight to the only person who you knew wouldn’t feed you bullshit, MJ.

“Did Peter get the Stark internship?” You practically screamed. MJ turned, stunned from your sudden close proximity and your wide, questioning eyes. Closing her locker after grabbing the books she needed for her next class, she answered, “Yeah, he’s had it for like a week, why?”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Your back hit the lockers and you rubbed your face in frustration.

“Well, I didn’t know you were so invested in Peter’s business all the sudden,” she quipped, not realizing you weren’t in the mood based on the death glare you returned.

“You realize I’ve been working on getting that internship for like, my whole life right?” You scoffed and let your head fall back and hit the locker.

“It must’ve slipped my mind, my bad.” she replied coolly.

You groaned, “I can’t believe Peter Parker just destroyed my future.”

“I’m gonna sit this breakdown out, I have to study for my Calc test.” She gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before making her way to the library.

There you stayed, leaning on the lockers frozen with solitude, or was it anger? You couldn’t quite tell.

The rest of the morning passes with a breeze, just going through the motions of your daily routine without even thinking. Everything just felt numb. The final bell rang, allowing you to get away from the possibility of making any contact with Peter. The hatred you held for that boy was unimaginable.

The internship at hand was a once in a lifetime experience. The September Foundation Internship. One high school junior, hand picked by Tony Stark himself, was hired to work alongside the mastermind for an entire year. Rumors claim that if you’re cool enough, he lets you try on the suit. Others claim that if you stay late enough, you can see the Avengers in their daily lives. But no one has ever been able to verify them. Now meeting the Avengers would be cool and all but that's not why you wanted this internship. By featuring this on your applications, it was basically one way ticket to acceptance.

To any school. Anywhere.

Though your resume may be long winded, having the internship on there puts you ahead of any other student there. And if you were trying to get into MIT, it definitely wouldn’t hurt to be friends with an alumni. A very prevalent alumni who donates large sums of money each year.

What irked you the most was that you didn’t even get a letter of rejection. You had to find out through gossip. Like really? How long does it take to write an email?

Hey sorry you sucked so much that you didn’t get the internship. Better luck next time!

XOXO Iron Man :)

Sure, Peter Parker was a hard worker with a big brain but there was no way he was more qualified for that job. You had hundreds of hours of community service, a spotless report card, professional relationships with many prominent authoritative figures, and you participated in extracurriculars that Peter hadn’t even heard of. So how did he get in over you? Sure he has marching band, academic decathlon and robotics but in no way could that ever put you a step above him. It’s not like he’s some sort of superhero saving lives.

The fact that you couldn’t come up with a single thing that could make him stand out over you annoyed you to no end. The internal conflict occupied your brain for almost a week until you decided to confront Peter.

You spotted him in the cafeteria, laughing with Ned acting like he did absolutely nothing wrong.

Oh boy did he have it coming.

“So how’d you do it?” you accused, slamming your lunch tray down and sitting down across from him. Ned scootched away suddenly uncomfortable with your closeness and accusatory voice. Since becoming official with Betty, he knew how women’s emotions worked (to an extent) and he knew that tone did not mean sunshine and rainbows.

“W-What are you talking about?” he squeaked, confusion written all over his face. His eyes bouncing all over your features as if it would help predict what you were going to say to him.

“The September Foundation Internship,” you started with a calmer tone, “How’d you beat out all 5000 candidates, including yours truly?” You smiled innocently, but Peter knew that look meant anything but.

He looked around for a second, coming up with absolutely any excuse to satisfy your jealousy, “I did- I didn’t ask Mr. Stark so- so I really don’t know.” He turned to Ned widening his eyes as if sending a telepathic call for help. Ned frantically shook his head, not wanting any part of his problem. He deals with enough angry teenage girls as it is, he wouldn’t voluntarily put up with any more than he needed.

Peter panicked, spouting out the first thing that came to mind, “Well in my application I-I mentioned that I like to build LEGOS, so I guess Mr. Stark assumed I’m good with my hands?” uncertainty prevalent in his voice. He visibly winced at that poor excuse of reasoning.

You were surprised, “Oh, ok. Thanks Peter,” getting up to move towards your typical spot in the cafeteria.

“Real smooth, bet you really fooled her there,” Ned teased his friend, noticing the concern on his face, “What was I supposed to do? Just casually mention I’m Spider-man? She wouldn’t believe me!” Peter weighed.

LEGOs.

A toy that was meant for children beat you out. Embarrassed was an understatement. You played with Barbies and Polly Pockets! You even played with the sexist “girly” version of LEGOs! Granted you probably haven’t picked up a toy in maybe 10 years but still! That just isn’t fair.

---

“Mr. S-Stark could I have some advice?” Peter was quite literally shitting his pants with nervousness.

Tony looked up from his blasters he was tinkering with, “I mean you can ask but I can’t guarantee I can be your Dalai Lama” he taunted.

“Um okay well,” Peter gulped, “This really pretty girl at my school is mad at me and I don’t know what to do”

Tony was stunned, “Girls talk to you? And you hold a conversation? Congrats kid you’re growing up!”

Peter was embarrassed, “Well, not exactly. You know that internship you host every year?” His hands were shaking from nervousness, so he dropped his web shooters and clasped them in his lap so Tony wouldn’t notice. But of course he did, setting down his blasters and turning his chair to put his complete focus on Peter.

Well that totally makes this conversation easier!

“Of course. But I’m not giving it to you. I spend enough time with you already as it is.”

That helped ease his stress, “Well to cover for Spider-Man I just tell everyone I do the Stark internship, forgetting that there is a real internship. So this girl applied for the September Foundation Internship and is mad because she thinks I took it from her. But that's crazy because she's like the nicest person and worked so hard for this internship and there is no one I know that is more deserving of the spot and-,” Tony cuts him off, knowing the boy could ramble for days.

“What’s her name?” He questions, “Y/N Y/L/N, But I’m not asking you to like give it to her because that’s not fair, just give her a tour of the tower or something for her to finally realize I’m not that important around here,” Peter justifies.

“I’ll see what I can do.” With that, he walked out of the lab.

---

You’ve accepted the fact that you didn’t get the position and have continued to build your resume, filling in the space you left for the internship.

“Mr. Harrington? Flash isn’t here today so do you want me to do the lab alone?” You asked, grateful your annoying lab partner isn’t there attempting every pick up line in existence on you. Each one followed up with a denial and you completed the lab on your own.

“No,” Mr. Harrington said. “Ned’s partner isn’t here either so you can pair up with him.”

Begrudgingly, you stood up to join Ned at his lab table. Curious you ask, “Who is your partner?”, Ned hesitates in his answer, “Oh, Peter is busy with the Stark internship.”

Nevermind. Any progress of acceptance you thought you’d made was gone.

“Oh, okay.” You ended the conversation knowing you couldn’t handle dwelling on your failures any longer.

You would’ve been able to juggle the internship and school. Peter can’t even stay a whole day of school without leaving. This was just another reason why you were more qualified than him.

Peter was just arriving at Avengers tower to talk to Mr. Stark about how he altered his web shooters to increase the output of webs. He took the elevator up, assuming he would just be in the lab like he always is. And he was there, just not alone. He catches their attention when walking in, embarrassed to be seen so caught off guard.

“Ah Peter! So good to see you! I want you to meet our newest intern, Y/N Y/L/N!” Tony smirks at the boy whose eyes are blown wide staring at the girl in front of her.

“H-Hi Y/N. C-congrats on the internship.”

“Thank you Peter.”

“Well I have to go check on Cap, he gets angry when he doesn’t have his green smoothie. You guys get comfortable with each other! But not too comfortable, I don’t need to see any angsty teenager lovers in my presence.” Tony winked at Peter before he left the lab.

“Well that's awkward,” the girl begins, “I think I just stole your job.”

“Wh-what?” his eyebrows knitted together.

“Well you’re always gone for the Stark Internship so I just assumed it was the September Foundation Internship?” Now they’re both confused, clearly Mr. Stark wasn’t clear on Peter’s affiliation with him.

“N-no I just do a different intern job for Mr. Stark. I-I just clean up the lab.”

He has really gotta pick up his excuse game.

“So you’re a janitor?” She frowns.

“N-no I just make sure it’s tidy for Mr. Stark, organize the supplies and order more when he needs,” Peter stuttered.”

Ok now he's improving with his justification skills.

“Oh ok? Well I have to go, I have a charity thing.” You made a solid attempt at cutting the tension between you both..

---

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

Tony spins his chair, spotting Peter at the entrance. “Well I reviewed her application and you were right, she does deserve it. Plus, I know how you struggle with the ladies, so in a way I was throwing you a bone, whilst still getting a prodigy by my side.”

His jaw set, “I’ll have you know I am perfectly good with the ladies and don’t need your help,” Peter stormed out of the lab like a toddler.

“That’s not what you said in the lab the other day!” He calls after him, knowing full well he was out of earshot.

---

Peter has never felt so relieved than when the quinjet touched down on the top of the building. The mission was a complete disaster. If he had to explain the definition of “abort mission” he’d probably start with that.

After stepping off the quinjet, Peter made a beeline for the kitchen. His throat scratched every time he swallowed, probably from yelling into the coms trying to navigate through the pure chaos.

Passing by Wanda, he could tell by her facial expression he wasn’t in good shape. He could feel the dried blood stuck to his skin and the smell of sweat was unavoidable from even 10 feet away.

After his five minute walk, which would be better described as a limp, he made it to just get a glass of water. Finally, the rush of moisture runs through his whole body. Whilst peacefully chugging his entire cup of water he hears the sound of glass shattering, followed by the words,

“What. The. Fuck.”

He knows the voice from anywhere. Hell, he hears it on the morning announcements with Betty every goddamn morning. Frozen, he doesn’t know what his next move is. Does he run and act like it never happened? Does he just accept it and brush it off like no big deal? His rough draft of an explanation is slowly being put together in his head when you move in front of him.

“You’re not an intern. You’re fucking Spider-man.”

“O-oh hey Y/N, didn’t see you there”

Real smooth Parker. Why don’t you talk about your LEGO skills again. Just try and see if you can make this conversation any more awkward than it needs to be.

“Cut the bullshit. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She always knows how to get straight to the point. Something he always admired about her.

“I-I-I didn’t think it was important?” The apprehension isn’t helping his persuasion skills in the slightest.

“Oh being an Avenger is just a common occurrence nowadays?” You push, determined to get a real answer and not a half assed excuse.

“I mean if you live around here yeah everyone is some kind of super hu-”

“Peter.” You cut him off, annoyance obvious in your tone.

He sighed, “Yes. I am Spider-man. The only people who know are Ned, Aunt May, and the rest of the Avengers. And now you.” Distress was obvious on his face

You began to feel guilty once you saw the panic on his face, “I won’t tell anyone,” you squeak, the first drop of sympathy Peter has ever received from you.

“Thank you, I’m sorry for not telling you. You’re part of the team and deserve a real confession, not finding out by accident.”

The guilt train is on a two way track tonight!

“No, it was your secret. You deserve your privacy.” A small smile tugged at the edges of your lips.

“Thank you for being so understanding. Now that the secret is out maybe we could work together on my suit sometime?”

Peter is nervous. Why is he nervous? Did he just accidentally ask her on a date. Oh god what if she isn’t interested?

“I’d love to Peter! It's a date!” Your smile beaming gave Peter a surge of confidence, and he reached around your waist to pull you into a hug. You were both ecstatic to have finally started to see each other as friends, and even a little more than that.

Your trances were broken when you finally spoke up, “Maybe you should take a shower first,” as you finally realized the stench in your close proximity.

A flush creeping up his face when he realized. “Let me go shower then we can continue this,” he beams.

“See you then Spider-man!”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #spider-man #spider-man fic #peter parker imagine

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty Seven

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

Roman reluctantly climbed off the bed with Damien and left the bedroom. To his mild surprise, both his mother and Damien’s parents were waiting right around the corner. His mind froze. He had hoped he would have more time to think this through. But no, he had to answer now, apparently, and he had no words to explain his actions.

He was. So screwed.

Damien intertwined his hand with Roman’s and Roman took a breath. He wasn’t going to speak until spoken to, if only to buy him a few more seconds to think.

His mother barely gave him half of a single second. “Have you nothing to say for yourself, Veronica?” she seethed.

Roman just stared at his mother blankly and shrugged. “Nope,” he said.

“Stop being cute, Veronica, it’s not a good look on you,” his mother hissed. “I demand an explanation!”

“I told you I’m not speaking to you until you apologize to Damien. That is all I will say until you apologize,” Roman insisted.

“I will not apologize for saying the truth!” his mother growled.

“And yet you want Roman to apologize for being himself?” Damien mumbled next to Roman, and Roman snorted.

“Damien, don’t be ridiculous. To say there was never any sort of double-standard in my family would be a blatant lie,” Roman responded, smirking at Damien as his mother grew red.

“Veronica, pack your things,” his mother growled. “We’re leaving.”

“You wait just a minute, Diana,” the Queen said, ice in her voice. “You were so desperate to marry your child off that you threatened war. You’ve been nothing but antagonistic towards both your own child and ours. I will not allow you to simply return to your country to lick your wounds because you don’t like that our son refuses to be pushed around like you’re used to. You put everyone here through hell to accommodate your wishes. If you choose to force your way back home, then my husband and I will go public with what you threatened us with in order to agree to this. You think you have a PR nightmare at home now? That will be nothing compared to what you have on your hands after today. This wedding will occur, whether you like it or not, unless you’d rather your country hold an uprising knowing everything that you and your husband threatened us with?”

Roman’s jaw dropped open as his mother sputtered and tried to come up with an explanation. None came out of her mouth.

The Queen turned to Roman. “My dear, would you rather be known as Roman or Veronica?”

Roman’s heart leapt into his throat. “Sorry?” he asked.

“Your mother has been forcing you to be someone you’re not for too long. If you wish to go by Roman, we will respect that.”

Damien squeezed Roman’s hand next to him and Roman took a shuddery breath, tears coming to his eyes. “I...” he knew what he had to do if he wanted his mother even remotely cooperative. But the King and the Queen were giving him an out, a guaranteed wedding. He never thought he might want that, and yet, here he was. “I...don’t know.”

The Queen tilted her head to the side. “You don’t have to be anyone you’re not, sweetheart, it’s fine.”

“I...I know. I know that.” Roman took a breath. “It’s just...when I wanted to go by Roman. It was an experiment. It was all an experiment, to see how I would feel as the opposite gender. I had felt like a boy for years, true, but...but I still didn’t know if presenting as male would ring more true than presenting as female. I pushed back against my mother, because I wanted the freedom to experiment. But...I still...don’t know.”

The tears slipping down Roman’s cheeks as he spoke those words were real. It broke his heart that he had to play the part of the confused child when his opportunity to be himself was right there. But if he wanted Remus at the wedding, if he wanted continued contact with his friends, if he wanted to see anyone at home again, he had to play into this, just a while longer. “I thought...I thought I knew,” Roman said. “I thought I was sure when I pushed back. I wanted the freedom to experiment, and I wanted that freedom to be myself, whoever that was. But as this week continues...I don’t know. I don’t know who I am.”

The Queen looked him over. Damien was giving him glances. His mother was still red in the face. “Part of me...part of me wants to be Roman,” he said. “But there’s another part of me that I find difficult to explain. And I want to figure out what that part is as well. I want to know all of me, as best I can, before I make this decision.”

“Of course,” the Queen said, relaxing a fraction. “Still, we must call you something.”

Roman nodded. “You can call me Roman,” he said. “I still want to experiment. To see if it sits right. Give me twenty-four hours as Roman, and I’ll have a decision for you tomorrow afternoon. I just...I just need time.”

“We can do that,” the Queen said with a smile. “Now. As for you two running off...”

Roman and Damien got double-teamed by the King and Queen, talking about how they were scared to death and if they needed time alone, all they had to do in the future was to ask for it, but to never run off like that again. Roman nodded to all of it, and Damien just stood there, agreeing softly at the end. Roman’s mother said nothing the entire time, simply glaring at Roman, and Roman pretended that she wasn’t even there.

When they were ordered to go downstairs and grab something to eat before meeting with the dignitaries, Damien sighed once they were out of their parents’ earshot. “You put on a very convincing act, Roman, I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Roman said. “Your parents know it’s an act, I assume?”

“My mother caught on, for certain,” Damien said. “And she can clue my father in.”

Roman nodded. “My mother will expect me to go by my deadname around the dignitaries.”

Damien grimaced. “I don’t suppose that simply not correcting them if they call you either name is acceptable?”

“Not to her. But maybe we could play it off for the sake of the ‘experiment,’” Roman mused.

“And I assume at the end of the ‘experiment’ you’ll allow your mother to deadname you?” Damien asked.

“Lull her into a false sense of security, and then when the wedding comes, be my true self. It’ll keep her quiet until the wedding itself, at the very least,” Roman said. “And it will guarantee that Remus is there.”

Damien nodded. “I don’t like it, but I understand,” he sighed.

Roman laughed a little. “You’re so protective,” he said. “I think it’s a little funny, especially when I’ve been able to handle myself this long.”

“My mother just stepped in to save both of our hides,” Damien pointed out.

“Would she have done that if I hadn’t won her over with my charming smile and good looks?” Roman teased.

“Yes,” Damien said.

“Oh.” Roman considered this new information. “Well, whatever. Minimal interference does not refute the fact I can handle myself.”

“You keep telling yourself that, my love,” Damien laughed.

Roman stuck his tongue out at Damien and Damien did it back with a laugh. They walked into the kitchen and Patton just about shrieked in surprise. “Boys! Where have you been?!”

“Roman’s room,” Damien replied. “Their Majesties already tore into us, no need to call them.”

Patton gave Damien a side-eye. “You remember the first time you lied to me Damien?” he asked.

“We were six, and I said I had worn heelies before and so you didn’t have to worry when we raced around the castle,” Damien said.

“You nearly cracked your skull open when you fell down the stairs and I sobbed so hard I nearly puked because I thought you were dead. And since then I’ve never been able to completely trust you about anything except your inability to cook,” Patton said. “Did you two really get chewed out?”

“Yes, we did,” Roman sighed. “And I got permission to go by Roman for twenty-four hours because my mom was being a witch-with-a-b. But heelies? Do tell.”

“Nothing much else to tell about it,” Patton laughed. “My mom was the head cook before me and I had off school. That happened. You get to go by your name for twenty four hours?”

“As part of an experiment,” Roman agreed. “It’s going to be interesting trying to convince everyone that I didn’t like it enough to continue afterwards, but I get gender euphoria for twenty-four hours.”

“Hey, congrats!” Patton exclaimed, grinning. “That has to be a fantastic feeling.”

“It does feel pretty nice,” Roman said with a shy grin.

“So, Roman,” Patton said with a pointed grin, “Anything I can get you and Damien?”

“Anything that’s filling is fine by me,” Roman said with a shrug. “Damien?”

“I’m not picky, I’m just hungry,” Damien said simply.

“Something fast and filling, got it,” Patton laughed.

A dignitary Roman didn’t recognize walked into the room and snorted. “I knew I’d find you here eventually, Damien!” he said. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m fine, Max,” Damien responded. “Have you met my fiancé, Roman?”

“Never had the pleasure,” Max said, walking over and shaking Roman’s hand.

Roman smiled at Max and said, “I assume you have, however, seen my mother?”

“Yes, she was fuming after what she referred to as your ‘little stunt’ and I must say, anyone who can irritate someone that uptight is a friend in my book.”

Roman laughed. “Uptight is certainly a...kind word for her. I prefer ‘control freak,’ among others.”

“Transphobic, cruel, stubborn, and abusive are what I favor for her,” Damien said simply.

“Jesus, don’t do anything by halves, do you?” Roman asked.

“Not when it comes to this particular topic, I’m afraid,” Damien said with a small and pained smile.

Roman scratched the back of his neck. “Just don’t let her hear you say that and you should be fine. She pokes fights with everyone, anyone who knows her won’t be surprised if she snarls at you.”

Damien made a discontented noise. “I now understand why the diplomats from your country are recorded as some of the kindest and most patient in all the world. And I have to say, that if this is what they have to put up with daily, it’s a surprise any of them make it through the training process.”

Roman laughed and Max winced in sympathy. “Yeah, Her Majesty can certainly be a piece of work,” Max mumbled. “Don’t tell her I said that, of course.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Roman assured. “Especially when I know exactly what you have to go through around her when she likes you on a good day.”

Patton came over with food for Roman and Damien and both of them made quick work of it, chatting with Max in between bites. When they had both finished lunch, they shared a look. “I’m not ready to go out to all the other dignitaries,” Roman groaned. “I’m tired, and I want a break from the wedding and the performance around it.”

“I know, my love,” Damien said, kissing Roman’s knuckles. “But I won’t make you go through this alone, if it’s any consolation.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s nice, but the fact remains that this will be a highly draining act, explaining everything that is going on.”

“I can help explain a few things, if you’d like?” Max offered. “Go to the little groups around the room and chat with them before they get to you?”

“You’d do that?” Roman asked, relief evident in his voice.

“Of course,” Max said. “I probably can’t get every group, but I know enough people to know who to talk to about it, and the rest of the room will hear the gossip soon enough.”

“Nice,” Roman said. “I’d appreciate that.”

Max offered Roman a smile. “Shall we get to the ballroom, then? Everyone is waiting for the both of you.”

“Let’s get it over with,” Damien said, linking his hand in Roman’s.

Roman walked side-by-side with Damien as they entered the room, and Roman shuffled a little closer as nearly everyone turned to look at them. “I found Their Highnesses in the kitchen!” Max exclaimed with a little laugh. “Try not to flood them!”

Roman put on his best polite smile and Damien stood next to him, looking relaxed but somewhat resigned. Immediately, the closest group to the door came over and dragged them into a conversation about the wedding. What they planned to wear, and oh, wasn’t it exciting, and what was their first dance going to be? Roman responded with answers that ranged from, “Yes, I suppose it’s rather exciting,” to “I want to leave the details of the wedding to be a surprise.” Damien was similar, trying to deflect any questions specifically about Roman’s dress, and anything that spoke about “the bride.”

Dysphoria stabbed Roman in the chest every time someone said that, but still he smiled and responded politely. They didn’t get a word in edgewise with the first group, and couldn’t explain that Roman was going by Roman for the day. The second group, though, Max had spoken to, and it was a breath of fresh air when someone asked, “So, how are the grooms-to-be faring?”

Roman laughed, beaming and honestly answering, “We’ve been all right,” as Damien smiled at the dignitary who had asked the question.

The conversations were about things that Roman didn’t find important, for the most part, but he was able to answer them honestly and openly, seeing as how his mother currently was not in the room. Damien, again, deflected prying questions about Roman’s gender and anything related to the reveal at the wedding. Roman squeezed Damien’s hand as they were let go to another group. “What was that for?” Damien asked.

“For being willing to help dodge questions about the wedding day,” Roman said with a small smile. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, my love, it wouldn’t do for the surprise to be spoiled,” Damien responded.

“A surprise?” a dignitary asked. “What sort of surprise?”

“A secret surprise,” Damien replied simply. “And no, you will not get either of us revealing anything more about it.”

Conversation became a bit more prying after that, but Roman and Damien didn’t give anything up. They talked, they laughed, and never once did they let go of each other’s hands. Their parents walked into the room at some point, which Damien pointed out by mumbling, “The Dragon Witch has entered.”

Roman took an inconspicuous look around the room and spotted her and Damien’s parents talking with a few other people. “Great,” Roman sighed.

“Don’t worry, we can get through this,” Damien said, voice holding a lot more confidence than Roman felt.

The afternoon went on slowly, everyone’s shadows slowly creeping longer and longer, until the sun was definitely setting. Roman and Damien went through the last group of dignitaries and both of them sat down in a corner of the room with a sigh. “This is so hard,” Roman sighed. “I know my mother caught me smiling a couple times when people called me Roman. How do I know if she’s going to buy my story tomorrow, asking to go back to Veronica?”

“She’s desperate enough to not question it too much, I think,” Damien murmured back. “I mean, she shouldn’t be, but she is. I can’t wait for that world to crash around her, and real life to kick her in the face.”

“That would be great,” Roman snorted. “I doubt it would happen, but it’s nice to dream...”

“It will happen, if for no other reason than because I will ensure it happens,” Damien said. “I’ve put up with too much from her to not gloat.”

“Fair enough,” Roman laughed, resting his head on Damien’s shoulder.

Damien kissed Roman’s head and murmured, “Do you think we can be affectionate around your mother while you’re performing this little ‘experiment’?”

“I don’t know,” Roman admitted. “She’s quite obviously homophobic. I think if we’re affectionate she’ll try to brush it off. She’s realizing that scolding me doesn’t have much of an effect on my behavior here, and she can’t take away my phone; I won’t let her do that again. So we can do as we please within reason. Eventually, she’ll find a threshold where being at risk of a PR disaster is worth it if I’m in her grasp again, so we’d have to tread lightly on the bigger stuff, but I think just being close, like this, sitting together, isn’t as big of a deal.”

“So what I’m hearing is that I won’t get to kiss you for the next twenty four hours,” Damien sighed.

“Sadly,” Roman agreed. “If we did that, she would instantly freak out and drag me home by my ear.”

Damien winced. “She’s a horrible woman.”

“She is,” Roman agreed softly. “Don’t tell her that I said that.”

“Of course not,” Damien said. “Everyone knows that men are the only ones who are allowed opinions anyway.”

“Hey!” Roman exclaimed, a fraction of a decibel too loud, as some people looked over at them. “I’ll have you know that I am a man. A manly man. A man who is manly!”

“Of course you are,” Damien said. “I was trying to play off a joke from your mother’s flawed logic. Was it not funny?”

“Strikes a little too close to home,” Roman said, lips pressed into a thin line.

“My apologies, in that case,” Damien said.

They turned to look at the crowd in the ballroom and lapsed into silence. “Dinner is going to be a trial,” Damien sighed. “Not everyone here will be staying for dinner, but enough people will be that we cannot escape the horrors that are small talk and wedding planning.”

Roman laughed. “I’m not looking forward to it either,” he admitted. “At least your descriptions of everything are funny, though.”

“Well, good, I’m glad,” Damien said, puffing out his chest a little and preening under the praise.

“And I think dinner will be at least somewhat bearable,” Roman said.

“Oh? And why would that be?” Damien asked.

Roman squeezed their intertwined hands and smiled. “Because we’ll be going through it together.”

Tag List: @lunareclipse-13@sanders-sides-crofters@blushy-gigglee-mess@wannacrymetoo@kaytikitty@magicalspacepanunicorn@bootsinthesun@pricklyfish777@flowersanddinosaurs@leiasolo77@birdybabybird@enby-phoenix@luna--28@justagaygoose@the-prince-and-the-emo@fandomsandanythingelse@randommuffinyt@snekky-boi@thesoftestlittlepuffballwegot@twilight-trix@abby5577@escalatingtoofast@friendlyfacestabbing@remus-is-stinky@foggybanditdreampeanut@ghostskull300@sprinklestheditty@canvas-the-florist@askthesnake@samuel-the-gay@determination-saved@juicy-cashew@demidork84@why-should-i-tell-youu2@nerd-in-space@aphriteblack@cktkat@im-actually-ok@loganpatton@lilbeanblr@kittyboof8@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch@sanders-trash-4ever@hamilspntrash@swords-and-kittens@phantomfander@narniasfinestavengingsociopath@rjmeta@ambersky0319@anni-cat-flower@idosanderssidespromptssometimes@nafsbluebery@redisawerewolf23@voidvirgil@msu82@angstyfanfiction

#roceit #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #deceit sanders #patton sanders #royal growing pains #our creations

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amaranthprincess21 · 4 years

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As the Curtain Falls

Rating: M Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Pairing: Vil/Reader (Eventually >:3c) Synopsis: As summer approaches, you look for a job on El Capitan: Twisted Wonderland's version of Broadway. Getting into a show is the chance of a lifetime, but as rehearsals go on, the flaws of the show and its production team slowly come to light. The ship you're on is burning and there's no way of backing out. You will have to make the best of things and deal with the drama that comes your way. And here comes Vil, your co-star, making things more complicated as the two of you become closer during rehearsals.

A/N: okay so I need to make some things explicit: 1) Although this going to heavily riff on LND, a lot of experiences that are in this fic are experiences I had while acting and a lot of this fic is honestly just me trying to make sense of some of the weird shit I went through. A bad sequel musical is really just the setting and I doubt any of this stuff actually happened during LND production so don't like, look into too much? I just wanna bitch about acting drama I went through years ago and also make some jokes about LND. I'll most likely talk about those experiences more in author notes so I guess look forward to that? 2) also i'm sorry if you genuinely like LND bc I will be making fun of it a lot. And also Phantom like I'm a fan but I'm def gonna roast it 3) For reals tho, I don't know if this is going to be slow burn or not so alskjdfahsd

----

The moment I stepped into the large rehearsal space, a sense of dread and excitement washed over me. The space looked like a small warehouse more than anything else. Large props or set pieces (I couldn’t tell) were pushed towards the back of the room. One whole wall was full of mirrors. I wasn’t the first one here, thank God. But seeing just how many people were in the room was… not reassuring. Along one wall there was a long table set up and several people were seated behind it. It had to be the investors and the production team.

Man, I was really in over my head, wasn’t I? My callback would be getting judged by ten people and I was up against so many people. But then again, I should’ve expected this. This wasn’t some school musical: this was the Broadway of Twisted Wonderland. Everything was bigger here and the stakes were higher. I needed to make sure I was perfect. I needed this job. I needed this role.

A few people were already warming up, stretching on the ground. Okay, let’s be social. After all, these might be my new coworkers. I tried to exude friendliness and confidence as I went over to the group, saying hi and introducing myself, but I just wanted to throw up. More people trickled in and every time the door opened, I found myself looking over. Some joined us in warming up, others went behind the table.

“So, what’s your background?” a tall redhead woman asked. My head whipped to look at the group to see everyone staring right at me, expectantly.

“Oh, uh, I don’t have much of one, to be honest. I did musical theater in school, but this is my first professional audition,” I told them.

“Really? Congrats on making it to callbacks, then!” someone said. I wasn’t sure if it was genuine or a snide remark.

“T-Thanks.” Might as well err on the side of niceness. “What’s your guys’ backgrounds?”

“I’ve only ever done ensemble before, so this is my first time being called back for a principal role,” one said. As they all started talking about their backgrounds, the door opened again and I instinctively looked. I had to do a double take as Vil walked in, joining the others behind the table.

“Am I seeing that right?!” the brunette next to me demanded, elbowing me. “Is that Vil Schoenheit?!”

“That, or we’re having the same hallucination,” I told her. It wasn’t like I was friends with him or anything, but I didn’t know he liked musical theater. I thought he was just a model with some TV guest star credits. But then again, I didn’t know him. We just saw each other during prefect meetings with Headmaster Crowley. But I think Jack mentioned one time he was wealthy. Maybe he’s investing in the show? I mean, it’s that or he’s a part of the production team.

“Well, this just got way more interesting,” she commented. I glanced back over to the table. Vil seemed deep in conversation with the other auditioners. Yeah, interesting seemed like a good fit. An older man with a bright teal tie stood up from behind the table and clapped his hands. All conversation died and we all looked at him.

“Welcome to the callbacks for Romance is Immortal. You’ve all done well to make it this far. But sadly, only a few of you will make it into the cast,” he said. Way to pile the pressure on. “We’ll start with the sides and song we emailed you. We’ll call you in as small groups. The holding room is through that door.” He pointed and wordlessly, a few actors got up and made their way over.

Okay, this was happening. This was really happening. The callback was starting. The brunette helped me to my feet and as I walked to the holding, I stole another glance at the panel. Vil’s sharp amethyst eyes caught mine. He gave me a small nod. This was weird. This was so weird. To think Vil would be judging my audition was a strange one. Would things stay this weird if I got the role? Would it be weirder if I didn’t?

The holding room was fairly spacious and I found a spot by the water cooler. One of the auditioners was at the door, calling a few names already. The auditioner and actors left and the door shut behind them. Quiet conversation started up, filling the room. I pulled my phone out of my bag and saw a few texts from Ace and Deuce, telling me to break a leg. Those poor guys. I’d dragged them along on this journey and sang so much in our hotel room that Ace left to get noise cancelling headphones at one point. It wasn’t the most reassuring thing, even if he told me he just got them because he couldn’t hear his video game audio. But I knew he wasn’t really into musical theater. Deuce wasn’t either, but his mom loved musicals so he at least was willing to try and sing opposite me for prepping this callback piece. That was awkward. I never want to act like we have sexual tension ever, ever again.

I texted them back, thanking them and asking how sightseeing was going. I opened Magicam to see if they posted anything. They hadn’t put anything up yet, but Vil did. He had some vague things on his story. Showing he clearly wasn’t at Night Raven College, getting a smoothie this morning, basic things like that. I started scrolling through his profile, wondering if I’d find any past work of his on there. Mostly it was just selfies and modeling pictures. He really was pretty. Beautiful, even. Unfairly so. A notification popped up on my phone; a text message from Deuce, saying they were at an observation tower taking in the views. I really wish I could’ve seen that with them, but I had a job to get. Maybe if I got this role and got a place here, I could go sometime.

I waited and waited and waited for what felt like hours, although my phone said it was just a half hour. The first group returned and the assistant called out a few more names. My stomach lurched as my name was called. Trying not to shake, I stood up and followed him and a few others out to the main audition space. The room looked so much bigger without all the actors there. The assistant motioned for us to sit on the sidelines against the mirrored wall. As I sat down, I glanced over to Vil again, only to see him getting up. Was he leaving?

“We’ll start with auditioning our potential Opera Ghosts and Carolines. We’ll be double-casting these roles,” the man in the teal tie told us. “We’ve already had Mr. Schoenheit sign on as our main Opera Ghost -” Huh?! He was already in the show?! Was there another audition session I missed? Something about this unnerved me and I couldn’t place my finger on it. Sure, it was unusual, but I couldn’t tell why it was bothering me so.

The man in the teal tie called out a name and a woman stood up, joining Vil in front of the auditioner’s table. I looked down at my script, reading through the lines again. I didn’t really need to; I was a fast learner and Deuce and I had gone over this enough times for me to remember it. But it was nice to stare at something that wasn’t other people.

Nerves were starting to eat at my stomach. The other actress sounded so good. Was I really cut out for this? I mean, I’d be thankful for any role in this show, but what if I bombed this so badly I wasn’t cast at all?

… No. I couldn’t think like that. I had to get this job. I had to. I just needed to put everything I had into this. Nerves or awkwardness be damned. If I didn’t get this job, I wouldn’t have the money to get a place to stay this summer. I’d be homeless. Grim would be homeless. If I blew it, it wouldn’t be just me that would suffer. I needed to get this role at any cost.

I breathed in and out, trying to calm myself as one by one, each actress went up and read with either Vil or another man. I listened to the notes the auditioners gave, watched the way each actress portrayed Caroline, decided what choices I could make. I needed to keep a level head. I needed to destroy the competition.

Suddenly, my name was called out as someone returned to sit with us. A deep breath. I could do this. I could do this. I got up and walked to where Vil was standing. I wasn’t sure if reading with someone I was acquainted with was going to be the most comfortable, but whatever.

“Are you off-book on the sides?” A woman from behind the table asked.

“I am,” I replied. She grinned.

“Go ahead and stow your script under the chaise lounge, then,” she instructed me. I gently tossed it under the lavish chaise right behind Vil and I. She was writing something down when I looked up; a majority of them were. My stomach was starting to knot itself again as I waited for the go-ahead.

“Hey.” Vil’s voice in my ear made me flinch. I looked at him. Up close, he was ever more beautiful, more beautiful than any photo could capture. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Huh? Yeah, it’s totally fine. Is it all right if I touch you?” I asked back.

“Don’t mess up my hair or makeup,” he replied.

“If you set your makeup right, that shouldn’t be a problem,” I said, grinning. He raised an eyebrow and I couldn’t decipher the look on his face. He was amused or pissed. One of those.

“All right, places!” the man in the teal tie called. Vil and I hurried to our spots, him on the chaise lounge and me just off to the side. I tried to channel Caroline, the heroine of the show. “Begin scene!”

After the sudden disappearance of the Opera Ghost, my mentor, I’d found his hiding place. I barged in, breathless, relieved that I’d found him. Yet, despite my joy, I was unsure, no, in denial about the true reason I wanted to find him. He shot up from his seat, shock written on his face.

“I…” The situation was hitting me. What could I say to him after everything that had happened? “I’ve found you.”

“So you have.” Cautious. He moved behind the chaise, keeping it between us. “Why are you here? To bring a mob to me?”

“No,” I breathed. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt. “I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“Even after everything I did?” he demanded. Slowly, I started to move toward him.

“Even then.” I reached out to grab his hand, but in a flash, he moved away from me. My hand slowly fell back to my side.

“You have always been too kind for your own good,” he said softly. “... I am not worthy of your kindness.”

“Don’t say that!” I cupped his face with my hands, praying my touch could convey my feelings for him. “You are deserving of love…” He smirked, his fingers brushing against my cheek. The touch made my heart race. I leaned into him.

“Do you really believe so?” he asked with a smirk.

The music began, the keyboard blaring. The heavy notes filled my blood and I could only imagine how it would sound with a full orchestra. Vil’s honeyed voice filled the air and I had to fight back surprise. Who knew he could sing? His hand slipped into mine, leading me around the room. His words dripped with innuendo and the walls around my heart were falling. Although I was to be wed soon, I fell under the Ghost’s spell.

Soon, he wasn’t just leading me. I grabbed at him, pulling him close, desperate to be closer to him. His fingers dug into my hips. In an instant, he twirled me around, body pressing into my back. Oh, he wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to touch me; his hand was right on top of my thigh. Our duet was becoming faster, heavier. All I wanted was him to take me, to ravage me, to make me his. I was tired of his teasing touches. I needed more.

Once again, his hands gripped my hips tightly, walking me back to the chaise. Carefully, he laid me down. My heart was racing as he climbed on top of me. This wasn’t the closest we’d been and yet my heart was thudding so loudly I worried other people could hear it. I reached out, hand resting on his back and bringing him closer to me. We sang our last notes together, voices melting together. His face got closer to mine, our lips practically touching. But he didn’t close the small gap. We froze, waiting for the auditioners to end the scene.

“End!” someone called. I breathed a sigh of relief as Vil got off of me. My heart was still racing in my chest and I hated to admit it, but I felt winded from that scene. Vil offered his hand to me and helped me get off the chaise lounge. Was it so obvious?

Some auditioners were still jotting down notes, others looking up at us. Vil stood by me, waiting patiently to receive notes.

“Your chemistry is fantastic,” one person said to us. They turned to me. “Towards the end, you were losing a little bit of energy. Be sure to keep that up through the whole piece.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

“Your vocal performance didn’t suffer too much from it, but again, it wasn’t as confident as we’d like,” another added. It hurt, but I nodded.

“Thank you,” I replied again.

“Vil, come back here. We’ll audition for another Opera Ghost.” Vil didn’t spare me a single glance, heading back to the table to join the producers and creative team. It’s not that I wanted him to stay with me, but man, I needed a breather after doing an intense scene like that.

The rest of the audition went fine. No one was as intense as Vil was and I did my best to take the notes I’d been given and improve on it. As I sat on the sidelines, I watched after time and time again Vil be fairly aggressive with the other potential Carolines. Part of me wished they were intimidated by it, but no, they all did really well. As expected of professional actors.

“Great job, everyone,” the man in the teal tie told us as callbacks wrapped up. “We’ll email you with the results. If you don’t hear back within the week, you haven’t been cast.” Why did we have to wait so long? I’d have to spend this whole week anxious and checking my emails every hour.

“Have a good evening, everyone,” one of the auditioners called out from behind the table. The tension in the air disappeared immediately. It was over. I pulled out my phone, ready to text Ace and Deuce that I was done. As I left, I glanced over to the table. Vil was deep discussion with the producers. Oh well. I could get away with not saying bye.

---

“So, did you have to do anything other than the song and lines?” Deuce asked me as we sat in our hotel room, boxes of pizzas in front of us.

“Yeah. We did a quick dance portion, but it was mostly the sides and singing,” I replied. Now the audition was done, I could indulge a little in junk food.

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Ace said, mouth full.

“It wasn’t. It was tiring, though,” I admitted. “I started off intense so it was an uphill battle. Vil was pretty aggressive.”

“Vil? He auditioned too?”

“Yeah. It was that seduction scene Deuce and I suffered through and he was going for it. A couple times I legit thought he was going to touch me. But he didn’t!” I added hurriedly as looks of rage came over both Ace and Deuce. “He asked if he could touch me and I said it was fine, don’t worry. He wasn’t going around just grabbing my thighs like a life preserver without consent.” Their bodies relaxed.

“Are you sure you want to do this show if the audition is like this?” Ace asked.

“Of course I do! If I get into this show, it’s a job and I don’t have to rely on Headmaster Crowley for everything!” I fired back.

“Jeez, calm down.” Ace crossed his arms in front of his chest. “This just seems like a weird show.”

“You’re saying that as if the first musical wasn’t weird,” Deuce commented.

“I’ve never seen The Opera Ghost and I’m not going to. My grandma took me to see Dance of the Vampires when I was a kid and that’s the first and last musical I’ll ever see,” Ace said indignantly.

“You can’t base every musical off of one you saw,” Deuce argued. I just grabbed another slice of pizza and kept eating as they fought. As much as I hated it, Ace’s words stuck with me. Sure, I didn’t know the first musical, but this was a job. A job I needed. Right now, I was technically taking dorm funds for necessities and although I doubted Crowley cared, I needed some way of making my own money. Who knew how long I was going to be here?

I needed to start trying to be independent.

… No. I’ve worked hard. I can worry about money later. I pushed the anxiety to the back of my mind, jumping back into the conversation Deuce and Ace were having. The night went on and despite my long day, I had a hard time sleeping.

I lay awake in the stiff hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling. Deuce was sound asleep in the roll-away bed that was wedged between mine and Ace’s beds. I sighed, rolling over towards him and the night stand. I grabbed my phone and unlocked it. Instinctively, I double-checked I was on the hotel’s wifi before doing anything.

There was a notification bubble on my email app and my stomach did a backflip. I took a deep breath and opened it. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but still, my insides were starting to vibrate. There were two emails, one from the school about something I didn’t care about and the other from the people who’d sent me the music and sides for the audition. My body was shaking as I opened the email. My eyes read over the words quickly and that bubbly feeling grew and grew.

They offered me the role of Caroline.

My phone fell onto the mattress with a soft thud. My heart was about to beat out of my chest yet again today. I did it. I got the part. I wouldn’t have to worry about money soon. I had a job. I had a paying job.

I got up and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. My body shook and I jumped up and down, trying to get the adrenaline out of my body. I did it! I had a job! Everything was going to be okay.

But as I tried to calm myself down, something came to mind. My audition with Vil. Who was already cast. … Was I going to have to do that scene again in front of more people?!

#long post #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil/reader #twst #tsuisute

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blainebigbang · 5 years

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Blaine Big Bang 2020: Posting Schedule

It’s finally here!

Tomorrow kicks off the Blaine Big Bang 2020!

Every other day, throughout the month of February, Blaine fans will be greeted with a new 25K+ fic of Blainey goodness from our 16 amazing authors and artists! Congrats to our participants!

Please see below the cut for the complete schedule:

February 1st - take my picture now (shake it 'til you see it) Author: Civillove Artist: Kanversrph Blaine likes to call this part of his life as being 'the flavor of the month'. While he enjoys being a successful model, he feels like the industry keeps taking little pieces of him. When he meets Sebastian, a nature photographer, he feels like he might get those pieces back.

February 3rd - Nothing Can Keep Us Apart Author: TeddysHoney Artist: Riverance Blaine is a Prince whose father was killed by King Burt's army. Blaine lives with his mother near King Burt's castle. One day, Prince Kurt sees him drawing water, and Kurt sneaks into the village to meet Blaine. They see one another in secret for a while. A war begins, however, and Blaine must go and fight. Kurt looks for him every day, waiting for him to return. He has no idea that Blaine has been captured by the enemy or that he's waiting for his brother to help him escape certain death. Once the war is over, Burt decides it is time for Kurt to find a mate. No one is good enough in Kurt's eyes, however. After realizing that Blaine may not be coming home and a pleasant evening spent in the arms of another man, Kurt sneaks off into the woods to cry, convinced he'll have to marry someone else and that Blaine is dead. Blaine surprises him in the forest, and, having convinces an indebted priest to marry them, the two are wed. Instead of returning to the castle, however, they decide to fend for themselves in the lawless forests surrounding the kingdoms. February 5th - Ships That Pass In The Night Author: Delightful_Fear Artist: JudeAraya Blaine has a great life, with people packing into his piano bar six nights a week as they sail to some of the most beautiful places in the world. He’s not lacking for beautiful men to share his bed either. Why would meeting the aloof counter-tenor in a touring Broadway group change anything?

February 7th - Life in Repair Author: Room108 Artist: SeblaineAddict In the wake of his most recent break-up with Kurt, Blaine returns home to Lima to lick his wounds and reclaim some measure of happiness. An unexpected opportunity to travel to Thailand with former friend (and sometimes nemesis) Sebastian Smythe, proves to be just the salve he needs. As their bond strengthens through the ups and downs of life on the road, Sebastian and Blaine revisit their lingering spark from high school and must decide whether it’s worth re-igniting or if it will be snuffed out for good.

February 9th - Bicycle Patrol Unit Author: Carmelcoffeeaddict Artist: Lallagoglee When NYPD bicycle cop, Blaine Anderson, begins to fall for Kurt Hummel - the gorgeous man that he first notices jogging through the park during Blaine's patrol - it causes a rift between him and his patrol partner, Sebastian Smythe.

February 11th - The Silver-Scaled Mark Author: Jayhawkwrites Artist: Michaelscribbles Blaine is a half-elf living in a town of full-blooded elves. He doesn’t fit in and is bullied almost daily for his heritage. One day Blaine finds solace in the library and later finds a book that talks about the magic in his world. He is drawn to it and wants to learn all he can. After Blaine has consumed all of the books in his town, he goes off to college to become a wizard so that he can help protect those that are not able to adequately defend themselves. Once he has graduated, he finds that he and several companions are part of a prophecy that will help unite the races in his world. February 13th - Out of the Blue Author: Lilyvandersteen Artist: Redheadgleek Kurt organises a fake wedding for Brittana to get presents from random billionaires. Cooper is one of those invited, and he shows up with his brother in tow. Sparks fly, but not of the good kind. Enemies to lovers, anyone? With a slight Pride and Prejudice vibe?

February 15th - Let It Be Me Author: Darriness Artist: Usurix It's been three years since Blaine fell in love with Kurt but between college, jobs, social lives, and parenting his twelve-year-old sister, can Blaine manage it all?

February 17th - Wouldn't Change A Thing Author: Slaydiest Artist: Datshitrandom One the eve of his junior year at Dalton, Blaine’s dad kicks him out of the house, dumping him at the bus stop, cutting him off, and leaving him homeless. This is the story of how he survives, meets Kurt, and ultimately triumphs. February 19th - Here You Come Again Author: Kaianieves Artist: Kanversrph It's senior for Blaine, and just when things should be falling into place, he finds them falling apart. He's got a crush- hopefully nothing more than that- on his best friend, and a dance that he would rather do anything other than plan. Blaine's conflicted- should he sit out, be miserable and hope that this year passes by in a blur? Or should he embrace it, enjoy it and maybe even shoot his shot? February 21st - A Very Seblaine Christmas Author: MrsTotten Artist: SeblaineAddict Blaine loves his family and friends, he really does. But after a bad break up they just won’t leave him alone it doesn’t matter that everything else is going great, everyone is fixated on whether he is finally dating again. None of this is helped by his ex fiancé proposing to his new boyfriend at top of the rock and now all anyone can focus on is blaine love life or lack thereof. And now he’s heading home for the holidays. A whole week of crazy family, new directioners and so he tells a tiny white lie, that his new boyfriend his joining him for Christmas. Whilst waiting on a delayed flight and trying to figure out how to break the truth to everyone he bumps into the last person he expected to see, the flirty, charming green eyed ex warbler who was always able to find a way under his skin. Over a whiskey and a catch up an idea forms and Sebastian agrees to be his fake date for the holidays. But as Sebastian finds himself engulfed in the warm, happy madness of Blaine’s family and friends and warbler reunions, Blaine starts to see a new side to his old friends and as ex boyfriends, meddling friends and well meaning family start to get involved. This fake relationship could end up being the most real thing these crazy boys have.

February 23rd - broken glass sparkling Author: Merengs Artist: Purpleyin A year abroad. A chance to get away, put on hold all the issues he still needs to resolve and maybe find the bits of himself he thinks he’s lost. So Blaine takes it. February 25th - It's Not Easy (Being Stuck With Me Tonight) Author: Xhorizen Artist: Thegreatgothamrewatch Blaine had the perfect life – He was married to the man of his dreams, they lived with their best friend in the greatest city in the world, and he had everything he had ever dreamed of. Never mind the crippling depression and anxiety he dealt with each day he failed to book a job, and the lack of happiness he had in his marriage. One night, everything gets turned upside down and everything Blaine thought he knew was gone. How will he manage to pick up the pieces and try to make sense of his life again? February 27th - Is There a Twelve Step Just For You? Author: Thenameisbritney Artist: Datshitrandom "He was still the same short, nerdy Blaine Anderson he’d always been. An easy target for school bullies everywhere. Kurt was the popular co-captain of the Cheerio’s, looking down on his kingdom like a fair but firm ruler. No one was on his level, certainly not a peasant like Blaine." Or Blaine tries to tell Kurt that he has a crush on him but accidentally ends up asking for a makeover instead. Oh, dear. February 29th - The Dalton Military Academy Warblers Author: Julia3132 Artist: CinnamonT Blaine Anderson is 2nd son of richest man in the world Winston Anderson. A devastating injury brought him back to Ohio where he disappeared into the family's massive estate. Society doesn't see him again until 2 years later, when after the death of Winston, he shows up at Dalton Military Academy, a place he is totally unsuited for. Sebastian Smythe is Captain of Dalton’s elite 1st Squadron and everything Blaine wants to be…dashing, debonair, comfortable in his own skin. A real James Bond. What Blaine doesn’t know is Sebastian is actually a member of the secret organization and Blaine is his mission...Find out the truth behind Blaine's arrival at Dalton and determine whether or not it has anything to do with his father's unexpected death. March 2nd - Love, Blaine Author: Gleefuldarrencrissfan Artist: Klainiac Blaine Anderson is a typical teenager. Except he’s not because he’s hiding a huge secret. He’s gay. But after reading a confession on the informal Dalton blog, he discovers that he’s not the only closeted boy at Dalton. After a moment of courage, he emails him and ultimately starts up a friendship that will change life as he knows it. Loosely based on the movie Love, Simon.

#Blaine Big Bang 2020 #BBB 2020 #BBB 2020 Posting Schedule #Blaine Anderson #glee fic

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