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honeys-hotties · 1 year

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Spilling the Tea

Mapi Leon x fem!Reader

Here it is!!! My first fic in a million years (it def feels like it)! All of the love in the world to all of you reading, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3.7k

My knee bounces up and down uncontrollably as I sit smushed against the window of the bus. I can’t help it. The pre-match nerves always seem to get the better of me, and today is obviously no exception. Today, however, they are much more justified. Today is the Euro quarter-final. Spain vs England. Two superpowers of football going head to head. And I can’t seem to calm myself down.

Lucy reaches over from her spot next to me, and places her large hand on my knee, effectively stopping the bouncing.

“Hey,” she says, looking at me. “I know you’re nervous. We’re all nervous. But all we can do is go onto that pitch today and bring everything we have. You always do that, so you have nothing to worry about.”

I reach down to grasp her hand in mine, overcome by a rush of love for the older woman sitting next to me. Lucy has been my best friend on the England squad (even over my sister Leah, though I would never tell her that), and I genuinely don’t know what I would do without her. Playing for the Chicago Red Stars these past few years have been tough, mainly because I’ve been away from my family and friends for so long. But Lucy always made an effort to call me as often as she could from Barcelona, checking in on me and just being the best friend anyone could ask for.

“Thanks, Luce.” I say, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Anything for you, Williamson #2” she responds. I yank my hand away from her as she starts laughing. “Awwww, don’t be like that,” she pouts, slinging her arm around my shoulders. “Play nice, or I won’t introduce you to any of my Barca teammates.”

“I’ll take my chances.” I say, jokingly pushing her away. She grips me tighter, and pulls me into her side, laughing.

“Oh, please!” she says. “You’re too in love with half of them to risk an introduction by yours truly!”

My face turns bright red, and I start sputtering, trying to come up with an excuse. Before I can, Ella pipes up from the seat in front of us, turning her entire body around to look at me, with my tomato face and messy hair from Lucy’s wild arms, and Lucy herself who is smirking like the cat who caught the canary.

“I agree with Y/N on this one, some of those Spanish players are FIT” she yells, causing pretty much everyone else to turn and look at us.

“My baby sister thinks who’s fit?” Leah asks from somewhere in front of us. Before I have a chance to try to calm the storm, Ella pipes up again:

“Your “baby sister” is in love with half of Lucy’s Spanish teammates, that’s who. Although, in all honesty, I really can’t blame her. I mean, have you SEEN Alexia? The things I’d let her do… OUCH” Ella trails off, although an elbow courtesy of Alessia, her seatmate, has her breaking out of her daydream. The rest of the bus explodes in laughter, and I bury my face in Lucy’s shoulder.

“What’d you have to go and do that for, Luce?” I whine. She chuckles and pets my hair contentedly. “I mean, was I wrong babes?” she asks. “The number of times you’ve asked me about Mapi alone definitely served as a heads up.” Before I can say anything else, the bus pulls to a stop, and everyone stands up, ready to head off.

The next few hours pass in a blur of warming up, running drills and strategies, and trying to get everyone into a good mood pre-match. I’m playing DJ, and have my phone hooked up to the locker room speakers while the rest of the girls mess around, waiting for Sarina to tell us what to do. I make my way over to Lucy who is sitting in her cubby with her phone out, furiously typing away. Right as I make my way in front of her, she stands up, grabs my hand, and pulls me out of the locker room and down the hall.

“What are you doing, Bronze?” I ask her as she takes a couple of turns and speeds up through the hallway.

“Helping you meet your future wife, Williamson” she responds. “I was texting Patri, FYI. Her and a couple of my other teammates wanted to see me before we all end up in the tunnel. Plus, they want to meet this famous bestfriend that I always talk about.”

“I-what? We’re seeing them right now?”

“Yup!” she exclaims, slowing down in front of a door that’s propped slightly open. “Right now. So I suggest you pull yourself together. Keep a clear head before the match and all that. Here,” she hands me the travel mug that had been in her other hand. “Hold this while I call Patri.”

She presses a couple of buttons while I take a sip from her mug. “This is really good, Luce.” I tell her as she puts the phone on speaker, the ringing echoing down the hallway. “I might need you to make me a cuppa when we get back, this is a hundred times better than the hotel drinks.”

Just before the line rings out, the door in front of us opens all the way, and there, right in front of us, stands Patri Guijarro, Claudia Pina, Jenni Hermoso. Ona Batlle, and Mapi Leon. Lucy pockets her phone in favor of greeting her teammates, who rush towards her and form a huge group hug, chattering over each other as Lucy laughs in the middle. They break apart, and Lucy grabs me, pulling me forward towards them.

“Allow me to introduce my very best friend ever, the one and only Y/N Williamson” she says proudly, pushing me towards them.

“It is nice to finally meet you,” Jenni says, stepping forward to give me a hug. “Lucy talks so much about you we feel as though we already know you!”

Claudia, Patri, and Ona all give me hugs as well, before Mapi pulls me into one of her own. As soon as she wraps her (Insanely strong) arms around me, I feel my face starting to heat up again. I’ve always had a slight crush on Mapi, Lucy definitely got that right, but right now, being held by the taller Spanish woman, I have to keep from pinching myself to make sure this is really happening. Mapi finally lets go (although I wish she wouldn’t), but brings her hands to my waist, looking directly into my eyes. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now,” she tells me. “I am so glad that it finally happened.”

“I-I am too,” I say, cursing myself when I stutter slightly. “I only wish it was under better circumstances. Mapi lets her hands trail away from me, staring at me quizzically.

“These are not good circumstances?” she asks. Oh, God, her accent. Just kill me now, please and thank you.

“Well, yeah,” I smirk. “I just hope things don’t get awkward when we beat you!”

Mapi scoffs. “We’ll see, princesa.”

The Spanish girls laugh, and start talking over each other all at once, before Lucy cuts them off: “Yeah, alright, talk smack after you give me my tea back, Williamson.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” I retort, taking another sip of the mug that has been clutched in my hand. “You’ve already had so much already, Luce!”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s mine,” she bites back, making grabby hands for the mug. “I’ll make you tea later, but you have to let me finish this now.”

I relent, handing her the mug and turning back to Mapi who has an insanely attractive smirk on her face. “You are not really arguing over a cup of tea, are you?”

I nod, and her smile widens incredulously. “Tea is disgusting!” she exclaims, throwing her arms in the air. “I do not understand you Brits. It is like you have tea running through your veins at this point! When will you realize coffee is infinitely better”

“Hey!” I respond, frowning playfully. “Tea is a million times better than coffee! You can’t even compare them. Besides-” but my rant is cut off by Lucy’s phone ringing loudly through the hallway. I turn to look at her, she looks up with a look of pure pure horror on her face. Wordlessly, she shows me the phone screen, where I see an incoming call from “Captain Lee-Lee” displayed across the screen. Leah must be furious with us for running away, and we both know we’re about to suffer the consequences. Lucy grabs my hand, and we bid the Spanish girls good luck before sprinting back towards our locker room, too fast to see the look filled with longing Mapi sends my way.

We arrive at the door out of breath and stressed out beyond belief, to find Leah waiting outside, eerily calm. She is dressed in her kit, captain’s armband secured tightly around her bicep. Lucy opens her mouth to explain, but Leah cuts her off. “Go. Now.” she says firmly, pointing towards the locker rooms. I pull Lucy with me into the changing room, passing the rest of the team as we do so. I rush to my cubby, changing out of my warmup gear and into my match kit. I’m pulling my hair up into a ponytail when Tooney sits down in the cubby next to mine. “So…” she starts, wiggling her eyebrows. “Wanna tell me where you and Lucy ran off to?”

“We hooked up with three of the Spanish players” I tell her seriously, and her jaw drops for a second before she swats my arm.

“You fucking wish, Williamson!” she says, and I roll my eyes. Is she wrong? No. Do I want her to say it? Absolutely not. “We were just saying hi to some of Lucy’s friends, and we lost track of time” I say, pulling the strands of my ponytail into a braid. “That’s all.”

Ella stands up and links her arm through mine as we make our way towards the tunnel, falling into line behind Alessia and Mary. Ella smirks, but knows better than to say anything. This close to the match, all of my energy must be focused on what I can do to play the best. We get to the tunnel, and I take my place behind Lucy. I zone out for a moment, thinking about the plays we had run earlier, but am brought back to reality by a hand on my waist, spinning me to the side. There stands Mapi, a smirk prominent on her face.

“Good luck out there, princesa” she tells me, reaching up to tuck a flyaway behind my ear.

“You too, tea hater” I tell her. She snorts, and heads back to her team where I see Patri nudge her and start whispering rapidly. Lucy, who had turned around and watched the entire interaction gives me a knowing look before turning back around.

The first 45 minutes pass in a blur, with both teams scoring. Alessia with a stunning shot, courtesy of an assist from me, and Jenni for the Spanish team with a flawless goal right before the halftime whistle blew. Heading back onto the pitch for the second half, everyone is much more serious. We all know what is at stake, and neither team is willing to go down without a fight. As I bend down to adjust my shin pads right before walking onto the pitch, I feel a large hand on my lower back. I straighten and turn to see Mapi with a smirk on her face. Her hand glides from my back to my waist where she gives me a little squeeze. I feel my face heating up, but fortunately Lucy’s shout distracts me.

“Let’s go, lovergirl! Flirt on your own time” she yells, coming up behind me and giving me a little push towards the center of the pitch. I swat her shoulder before jogging away from Mapi. Lucy stands in front of the Spanish girl, a smirk on her face. “You like her, don’t you?” Lucy asks the blonde. Mapi nods sheepishly, her cocky attitude gone. “Promise me something,” Lucy says, staring at the Spanish woman. “Don’t hurt her. Don’t treat her like one of your hookups, Mapi. Please. She deserves better than that.” Mapi nods, and the two head to their opposite sides of the pitch. The words echo around Mapi’s head as she takes her place, but the whistle breaks her out of them. Now is not the time, she scolds herself internally, turning her full focus to the match ahead.

The second half is rough. Both teams know what is on the line, and neither is willing to go down without a fight. Spain makes what looks like a promising run towards our goal in the 80th minute, but Esther loses possession due to a perfectly timed tackle from Leah, who boots the ball down the pitch to Keira. Kei takes her time, containing the ball while I sprint to the goal. I turn and shout her name, and with a swift pass from Keira the ball is at my feet. I whip around, and line up for the perfect shot. Just as I bring my leg to the ball, I see a flash of red. Out of nowhere, Mapi slams into me, her studs catching me just above the knees. My body goes flying, and it’s like time slows. I hear the screams of the crowd. The lights of the stadium are blinding as I fly through the air. Then, all of a sudden, my body hits the ground so hard I feel the impact in my bones. The air is knocked from my lungs, and it’s all I can do to try and breathe steadily. The whistle pierces the air as Lucy runs up to me, alongside Leah. My sister drops to her knees, tears in her eyes. Wordlessly, I nod at her, and she reaches down to grab my hand.

“I’m alright Lee, I promise,” I tell her, the air returning to my lungs. “Just a little beat up. Help me to my feet?”

She nods wordlessly, and in her silence I can hear Ella and Beth yelling at who I assume is Mapi, but can’t see from my position on the floor.

Lucy grabs my other hand, and as I’m pulled to my feet I see Mapi, who looks absolutely distraught, walking off the pitch, a red card held in her direction by the ref. The medical team arrives, and, after bandaging my leg where the gashes from Mapi’s boots had begun to leave, they head off of the pitch.

“I want to stay on.” I tell Leah. “She barely nicked me, I’m good to keep playing, I promise.”

Leah looks at me unsurely, but can never resist the puppy-dog eyes, and eventually she sighs in resignation. “Be careful, munchkin.” she tells me, kissing me on the forehead before lining back up. The ball is put back in play, but with Spain playing with one less defender, it isn’t long before another goal finds the back of the net, this time rocketed in by Chloe. Two minutes later, the final whistle blows, and I collapse to my knees. We’d done it. We were advancing in the Euros. Lucy shouts, running up to me, picking me up, and throwing me over her shoulder. I laugh as she does a victory lap, running past all of our teammates who were in various stages of celebrating the win. As we pass Leah, I nudge Lucy to put me down, and when she does, I make my way over to my sister, who hugs me tightly, lifting me slightly off of the ground.

“We did it!” she shouts over the noise. “Finals, here we come!” I hug her even tighter, and find a few of my other teammates before my exhaustion starts to get the better of me. I find Lucy, who insists on giving me a piggyback ride to the changing rooms, where I strip off my sweaty kit and hop in the shower. I hear the rest of my team entering the changing rooms, and someone connects their speaker, blasting music as we celebrate another win. More of the girls join me in the shower room, and just as I am drying off, I hear the main room grow quieter. All of a sudden, Lucy bounces into the shower room, a smirk prominent on her face.

“Oi, little Williamson! You’ve got a visitor” she sings, grabbing my arm and dragging me out. I pull the towel tighter around myself, and turn to face her, abruptly stopping her from taking me any further. “What are you on about, Luce?” I ask her. “What visitor?”

I hear a throat clear, and I turn to see Mapi, still dressed in her kit, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Leah is sitting at her cubby, glaring silently at the Spanish woman, and her distrust seems to be echoed by some of my other teammates, who are less than pleased to see the woman who had injured me standing two feet away.

“I, um, can we talk? Outside?” she asks me, and only now do I notice that her eyes are red rimmed and slightly puffy.

“Yeah, sure” I reply uncertainly, following her as she turns and walks out of the changing room. I close the door behind me, and turn to face the taller woman, who looks absolutely heartbroken. I tentatively open my arms to her, but am filled with a rush of affection for the Spanish woman as she takes me into her arms, holding me like she thought I was going to break at any moment. She lifts me off of the ground and wraps her arms around my waist, and I feel her begin to cry into my shoulder. I hug her back even tighter, and after a moment, she sets me back onto the ground, wiping her eyes.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “You played wonderfully, you always play wonderfully. There will be other games, I promise. This loss will only make you come back stronger, babes. You’re one of the best defenders I’ve ever played against.”

She looks at me, surprised. “You think I am sad because we did not win?” she asks. I look at her confused. “Are you not?” I ask, looking at her. She mutters something under her breath in Spanish, running one of her tattooed hands through her hair. “Of course I am, but I am more upset that I hurt you! Here you were, this perfect, beautiful, funny girl, and what did I do? I hurt you. I was not careful, and I could have easily ended your season. And now your team hates me and you probably hate me, and I always ruin things and I did not want to ruin you.”

More tears fall from her eyes, and she looks down at her shoes. Gently, I place my hand on her arm, waiting for her to look at me. When she finally does, I smile.

“You think I’m pretty?” I ask teasingly, smiling even more when I gain a watery chuckle from her. “I promise, you didn’t ruin anything. It was a mistake, but it could have been so much worse. And I’m tough, okay? It takes more than a bad tackle to take me out.” She nods, before pointing at the bandage on my leg wordlessly. I nod, and she kneels down in front of me, placing her hand on my leg and peeling the bandage back slightly to peek at my leg. I am suddenly self conscious of the fact that I’m standing in front of her in nothing but a towel, but these fears are put out of my mind instantly when she presses a gentle kiss on top of the bandage. Carefully, I pull her up to her feet, where she looks directly into my eyes. At this very moment, I feel like I am exactly where I need to be. I have always struggled with feeling left out, out of place. Growing up, I spent all of my time with my sister because I never found true friends that accepted me for me. When I went to Chicago I found my real friends, but it took me a long time, and I felt alone in a new country for so long. Even with my Lioness teammates, it took me some time to open up to them, to be comfortable being myself around them no matter what. But now, with Mapi, I feel like she sees right through me. Like she sees everything about me, and she accepts me for it. Without thinking, I press my lips to hers. Almost immediately I panic, thinking I misread the signals, but as I begin to pull away, she pulls me back in.

Kissing Mapi is perfect. It is everything a kiss should be and more, and when I finally pull away, and she places her forehead against mine, I feel so overwhelmed with joy and affection I think I might burst. She brushes a strand of damp hair behind my ear, and just as she leans in, the door to the locker room opens. We spring apart as Lucy stands there, a proud look on her face. “Looks like you two are getting on pretty well” she smirks. “Now, I hate to break up the party, but we’re planning to go out for drinks. You’re welcome to join us, Maps, but Leah’s insisting we leave soon.” I nod in response to Mapi’s questioning look, and find myself barely holding back a smile when her face breaks into a blinding grin.

“I would love to join you for a drink” she says, “as long as it is not tea.”

I let out an offended yelp, to which she snickers, dodging the swat I send her way.

“Perfect!” Lucy shouts. “I’ll text you the address!” Mapi smiles as Lucy heads into the changing room sending me an exaggerated wink before jogging back down the hall.

“See you soon, princesa!” she shouts, and I can’t stop the smile from breaking across my face as I head back into the room. My joy is short lived, however;

“OI LEAH, YOUR BABY SIS IS SNOGGING MAPI LEON”

“ELLA, IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR MOUTH i WILL SHOVE MY BOOT SO FAR-”

#mapi leon x reader #mapi #mapi leon #woso #woso imagine #fc barcelona x reader #leah williamson #lucy bronze #lionesses

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taes-kookie-blog · 1 month

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DATES WITH BTS

these days i’ve been daydreaming on what kind of date our boys would bring us on 🥹 i jinja miss them. pls enjoy dear~

JUNGKOOK

he’d call you late at night. you’d facetime for a bit, this is what your dates have been lately due to the military. things get a bit freaky a while into the facetime call, and jungkook loses it. “i cant kiss you through the phone.” he says. you laugh, thinking he’s making a soulja boy joke bc you’re listening to it. but he’s serious, and he’s getting all worked up… he bites his lip and leans closer to the camera… “i wanna see it.. in motion… in 3D.” upon hearing this you get up to strip for him but he hangs up. you receive a text from him; an address. you go to the address and it’s the military grounds, where he sneaks you in so you can do it in 3D. but then you get shot and you die :(

SUGA

it’s a friday night. due to suga’s busy schedule, you don’t see eachother much so you want to go a bit crazy and go to the club together. he’s wearing sunglasses and a cap to disguise, so everyone in the club thinks he’s weird. he drinks a lot due to stress and judgement. “yoongi.. slow down…” but he doesnt. he’s been drinking a lot more lately but you brushed it aside as you haven’t seen it; until now. glass after glass, shot after shot… he’s almost blackout by this point. he buys a bottled beer to go home with, so you wrap your arm around him to help him out. while waiting for your uber, you turn to see he isn’t there… that’s when you hear a load bang. you immediately run down the street towards the commotion. there he is, on the ground, a wound on his head. he drunkenly laughs and sits up, but the situation isn’t laughable. beside him is a scooter and a pram. a pram that fell over.

JIMIN

jimin’s ideal date with you would be a karaoke bar. he loves to tease you as you try your best to sing, and of course, he loves to sing too. but he’s banned from all the karaoke bars in seoul. you’re walking along together, moreso you’re being guided along by him after he told you he ‘knows a place.’ you reach a strange part of the city, where you’ve never been. there are a lot of buff shirtless men around. “this way babe.” he tugs on your hand towards a staircase leading underground, so you follow, confused. at first glance, the place is amazing and lively, a cool underground club, you figure it’s probably so hidden because it’s for celebrities only. but upon walking further into the club…. “jimin! what the fuck?! this is a gay bar!”

tae has always been reluctant about taking you out due to his dislike of PDA, and of course, the attention to his public image. you understand, dispatch can ruin careers after all. he calls you to come over, so you do. you reach the apartment and notice how foggy the windows are, is he cooking? you smile to yourself happily, smitten at the fact that beyond his stoic image, tae would cook for you. you walk in and immediately begin coughing. you stumble into the room, tripping over something on the floor. it’s hard to see through the smoke, steam, vapor..? what is this? but after crouching down and picking up what you tripped over, you can see it’s a vape. not just one, the whole floor is covered… emerging from the clouds, tae holds one out to you. “choof sesh?”

JIN

jin is usually a stay at home watch movies and snuggle type, so when you got the text asking you to come out with him, you were more than excited. you dress yourself up to look your best, and meet him outside. he compliments you which makes you blush, but then there’s an awkward silence. he waits, until you compliment him too. then you go, and arrive at a carnival. walking along together, getting cotton candy (he won’t eat it but at least he paid), playing games, going on rides… it’s so much fun. until you go into the hall of mirrors. at first it’s funny, seeing so many of your reflection, but of course it’d get boring after a while. “jin, let’s go!” but he doesn’t answer. he’s entranced by his reflection, and refuses to leave. good luck getting him out…

namjoon likes to make dates personal and meaningful. he wants to connect, not just through your bodies, but your mind and heart. when he told you he wants to show you where he grew up your heart was touched and you couldn’t wait. the car trip is fun, and eventually you pull up to a run down part of the city. checking your location on your phone, you knew this wasn’t where he grew up. “babe-“ before you can speak, he cuts you off, sighing and shaking his head and he drives slowly and looks melancholically out the window. “this is my hood.” you look at him in confusion, he seems totally lost in thought. he’s still driving, but you go to open the door to hint you wanna go and see it for yourself. before your hand reaches the handle he quickly grabs it. “don’t. it’s not safe out there…”

JHOPE

jhope had recently recovered from his emo phase so you could finally enjoy time with him, and you couldn’t wait. he invited you over. upon entering, he greeted you with excitement, wearing a cute apron and ushering you towards the kitchen to show the meal he prepared. you’re beyond surprised and excited, your heart warmed from this gesture. you sit at the kitchen counter as he continues cooking, the room filled with laughter and joy. he falls into conversation with you, his back facing the stove as you joyfully exchange conversation. until suddenly, a fire breaks out. he turns to face it, his expression unreadable as you scram to get the fire extinguisher. you run over but he silently holds a hand out, gesturing for you to stop. “what if.. what if…. what if i have no dream? no hope?” he mumbles, his expression still as he stares into the fire. “hoseok we need to put it ou-” he shushes you, still staring into the fire. “let it burn. let it all burn.”

i hope u enjoyed dears~ pls send requests

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dozing-marshmallow · 1 year

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Im so sorry for all the Chris’ nibling stuff but I absolutely love family type fics so could you please continue the thing into maybe World Tour?

Maybe Alejandro being like a big brother type thingy? You know since his big brother is kinda a bootyhole

NO DON’T APOLOGISE IT’S OKAY!! It’s a sign that you really enjoy this instalment and that makes me proud of my ability as a writer to engage yall so much. :’)

CHRIS MCLEAN’S NIBLING! READER WORLD TOUR HEADCANONS

It’s been a year, and Total Drama was coming back with its third season: a no-holds-barred race around the world in a jet!

It wasn’t surprising that it took a lot more conversation out of Chris to convince your parents to let you on this one- the suspicious measure of his jet’s safety, what you’d be exposed to this time around, your passport, visa, if the whole process was even legal.

In the end, they allowed it, primarily because it was Chris’ burden to bear the responsibilities and they trusted him enough to keep you safe.

This time, you didn’t need to pack; everything you’d need was at Chris’ place already.

That’s right! You started staying with him a lot more without your parents being around.

You were one year older, and so was everyone else.

Chris decided to invite two new contestants on the show. Potential friends?

“Eee! OMG! It’s Chris Junior! Hi! Hi! Hi!” One of them, the super fan Sierra wildly shakes your hand,“I always daydreamed about the day I’d get to meet my step-cousin, and now I’m finally here!”

“Step-cousin...?” you didn’t get it.

“(Y/N) your majesty, why don’t you go sit at the front with Chef while uncle Chris explains a few rules to the passengers?” Chris interrupts sweetly.

“Aww. Okay.” After you whispered to him,“Will I need to sing too?”

The plane took off, and you were flying into the sky!

“I think I can see my house from here!” You exclaim, peering out one of the holes in the wall modified as windows in the “economy” section. The wind taps your face. Canada looked like little rectangles!

“It’s a long way down! Don’t lean out too much, you don’t wanna fall!” Leshawna advised, beaming at you.

“I won’t fall! This is the Chris plane!” You declared, jumping off the bench and spinning around in circles.

The Chris plane broke out free in aggressive blue.

“Huuu...” you whimpered, cutting your dancing short,“Is that normal?... Is...this meant to happen?”

“Are you frightened?” An answer in the form of a question slid into your ears by Alejandro, the other new contestant.

“Y-Yeah...” you nod, clutching onto the window,“I’ve never been on a plane before... If this is what it’s like, I don’t think I like planes very much...”

“You don’t need to feel frightened.” A tanned arm of his surrounds you, seeming sincere, like a scared half to death boy who didn’t get this shield long ago,“I may not have much history with you, but it’s not in my morals to ignore a child in distress.”

You could see why your uncle wanted him on the show. His face was perfect, alright. And the hair on his chin really got you curious,“Can I...?”

“By all means.” He directs your hand to his goatee.

You stroke it. Soft...like silk,“My uncle told me about you. Don’t worry, I don’t snitch, but are you fake being nice to me?”

He shakes his head, his long dark hair similar to Chris’ elands with it,“I haven’t any intention to deceive you, little one.”

“You can say that, but not mean it...” you mumble, not happy with his nature, but happy enough to accept it the way it was.

“This is separate. I swear.” His fingers weren’t crossed,“I wonder, (Y/N)...you don’t happen to have siblings, do you?”

“Mm mm. My parents are busy so there’s only me.” You quiet your voice, now stroking his necklace,“If I did, I probably wouldn’t be on the show, and I’d be jealous that I’d have to share...”

“I see... It sounds like a life of luxury.”

“Ale-jandro!” your uncle appears down the hall,“Strategising already, are you?”

“What? Of course not! To use a child like this? I could never!” The Hispanic man quickly jumped to defend himself.

“Yeah yeah, the turbulence is over in case you missed it.” His odium of the sight sharpened his face, which was very new.

“What’s the problem here?” You’d like to know too. What gives, uncle?,“Please forgive me if I act in ignorance, for I did not see anything about-“

“You done? I’m uh, kinda waiting on you to get up and go.” much to your baffled expression, Chris’ impatience squished Alejandro’s right to speak, leaving him no other choice, but to bid an end to your moment together.

Nobody could look smart challenging the host. Not at the start as a newbie at least.

Understandable, though. Chris loses control over his contestants sometimes and didn’t want you to get in the middle of it.

Shortly, you arrive to Egypt, the first country, and watched the contestants take their mark to race across a pyramid. While you were so excited to visit new cultures and be in different countries, Egypt itself was unbearably dry.

“Ughhh uncle! How are you not hot?” You groan, flapping your hand in front of your face. Too hot... So hot...!

“Look what I’m wearing.” he answered, ironic since the most he wore was a nemes and loincloth- not even a shirt.

Seeing how relaxed he was nagged you to groan further,“I’m melllting!”

“Intern!” He yelled at a poor unpaid worker to rush and raise-low a palm leaf to you,“Better?”

“Ahh..” you groan, falling into the sand on your knees,“I could use some icy lemonade right now...”

This was going to be a loooooong season.

#chris mclean #chris mclean x reader #total drama chris mclean #tdi #total drama island chris #request #tdi x reader #td chris #total drama #td chris mclean x reader #td alejandro #total drama world tour #total drama alejandro #total drama headcanons #uncle chris mclean #chris nibling reader #nibling #nibling reader

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deathbypufferfish · 2 months

Text

Not like I am with you - a puffer legacy short story

Somewhere in-between Emi’s keg-stand and Joe’s flirting, Haru had lost track of Ilya.

wordcount: 1635

What began as a simple scope around the room had quickly turned into a frantic search and a pit of anxiety in Haru’s stomach. The last time he saw Ilya he was downing his beer with fervor. It was something he had never seen before. He wondered if he had ever even seen him drink in the first place. Anxious thought upon thought was stacking up in his brain when the most obvious location finally came to mind. His dorm room.

The tower of thoughts toppled over and a new mixture of emotions arose. Anticipation and excitement. Haru had accepted weeks ago that things between him and the dancer would never be more than friendly, but the feelings he tucked away were hard to keep down. They haunted him at night and filled idle daydreams throughout the day. Imagining scenario after scenario. But that was all they were and all they ever could be, daydreams. He just needed to find Ilya already.

Once down the hall Haru could tell by the dim glow underneath his door that his bedside lamp was still on. He walked in and his hunch was confirmed. Ilya was sitting on the floor, his back leaned up against Haru’s bed, and his shoes were off . He lazily stroked the wooden grooves of the nightstand. Slowly and exaggerated. It was very apparent that he was drunk out of his mind.

“I’m sorry, I was looking at your stuff,” he slurred.

“Huh?”

“I’ve been looking at all your things. Like your pictures…and your books…” He barely spoke louder than a murmur. His fingers still traced the wood as he spoke.

“Oh, um, that’s alright.” Haru didn’t know what else to say. Not a single thing made sense to him right now. Ilya was drunk, in his room, and apparently perusing through his things. That pit of anxiety returned with a vengeance. Ilya finally turned to look at him. His eyes were red. His shirt collar was wet with tears. Haru’s actions came to him so naturally after that.

He let him help him off the floor and onto his bed. There was no protest or drunken apologies. Ilya simply stared at him with an expression that felt so blank and yet so sad. His gaze felt heavy on him. Intrusive even.

He knelt to the ground and grabbed his shoes. Without even thinking, he began to put them back on Ilya. He immediately felt like such a fool, but it was too late. Stopping now would be worse, right? Right? As he tied his laces he dared to take a peek up at Ilya’s face. He was covering his face with both of his hands, but Haru could still see furious blushing on the tips of his ears. He finished tying his shoes as quickly as possible as the blood rushed to his own face as well.

Haru sat next to Ilya on his bed at a respectful distance, and they both sat in silence for an uncomfortable minute or so. Ilya shifted back and forth every once and a while, seemingly always on the edge of saying something. At last he spoke in just a soft enough whisper to hear.

“I’ve never had a friend like you.”

“What do you mean?” Haru turned to look at him, but still found him evading his gaze. Ilya rubbed his hands along the knees of his jeans. Slowly feeling the rough fabric slide to and fro underneath his palms. Haru thought it almost sounded like the rolling of waves along a shore. Every sentence seemed to take him a great deal of time to form and think through. Whether it was the alcohol or nerves, Haru couldn’t tell.

“I mean, I’m close with Katya, but not like I am with you.”

“Well, she’s your girlfriend. Of course it would be different.”

“No, no, it’s not different,” he snapped. “She's not actually my girlfriend.”

Ilya squeezed his eyes shut and clenched the fabric in his hands. What was he talking about? Did they break up? Haru had seen them talking to each other just an hour ago. If he was honest, he hadn’t been watching them that closely. He’d rather not see his unrequited crush talk to his girlfriend, but he would have at least noticed any domestic tension.

The reality of Ilya's confession dawned on him. They weren’t in a real relationship and maybe never were. They were faking it. When he looked at it under this lens, he realized that they never truly interacted as a couple. Of course, except when Katya would kiss Ilya in front of him. Maybe it was for show. Maybe it was Katya’s disdain for Haru. But Ilya had just confessed that their relationship was never truly romantic. More than that, Haru thought about what this may mean for Ilya’s sexuality.

“Oh…I see.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he whispered.

Ilya finally turned to look at him. They were closer together than Haru initially realized. He couldn’t help but examine every mole, every crease, every detail of his sorrowful, yet beautiful face. It was hard to breathe in such close proximity. The hugs they had shared before felt prudish in the shadow of this intimacy.

He tried to deny it, but he felt as if Ilya was doing the same thing. The way he was leaning in, the way his chest heaved with his shallow breaths. That far-fetched idea of him loving him back felt so tangible all of a sudden. And it was terrifying.

“It’s okay. You could have never told me, and it would still be okay,” he whispered back. “I care about you.”

Ilya opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His face was burning red again. His eyes wide and dilated. Haru couldn’t bear it, being so close. It was pure torture. As his stomach flipped and the heat rose in his chest he took his chance and laid a soft hand over Ilya’s.

It was stiff and terribly awkward at first. Ilya had frozen so quickly you would think he would shatter. Haru was wondering if he had made a grave mistake when Ilya’s deep breath interrupted him. In just a moment more he mellowed under his touch, simply letting his hand lay atop his own. For a moment everything fell still. They did not speak, they just sat in each other’s presence. After a while things began to feel tense again, overwhelming even, so Haru broke the silence.

“How about we get you some coffee?”

Ilya was still staring at the floor, but a small smile had crept up onto his stern face. He nodded. Haru stood up and tried to gain his composure before leaving the privacy of his dorm room. Ilya followed suit, but wobbled at his own sudden movement. Haru grabbed his elbow and steadied him with a soft chuckle. Coffee was a requirement at this point. Ilya stared at Haru's hand on his arm and before Haru could even react he found himself in his arms.

Sure they had hugged before, but it was fleeting and friendly. This was something else entirely. Ilya was practically hanging off him, pressing most of his weight into their embrace. He pressed his face into his shoulder and sighed. Haru could have passed out right then and there. This entire night was threatening his ability to stay conscious, honestly. It was worth it, he decided, and pressed his cheek to the top of the shorter man’s head. His curls tickled his nose. It was hard to not think about how much he loved him.

Ilya pulled away only slightly, their faces mere inches apart. He leaned in further.

Their lips had only barely made contact when Haru had brought a hand up to his chest. He pushed him away as gently as he could. He was drunk, too drunk, but those words could not get out faster than Ilya's face fell. Complete and utter horror.

”No, Ilya, please wait! I love you, I do!”

It was too late. Ilya bent his head under the weight of his shame. He shoved him off so hard Haru stumbled into the nightstand, knocking the lamp onto its side. He grabbed at Ilya’s sleeve, tears streaming down his face, but Ilya shook him off once again.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

His voice was layered with so much emotion it pierced Haru’s heart like a dagger. It was over. He humiliated him. He had humiliated himself.

Ilya slammed the door shut in his escape. Haru ran after him, but lingered as he reached for the doorknob. He couldn’t run after him in the midst of the party. It would just have made things worse, much worse. He knew this, yet it took everything in him to not open that door and chase after him anyways. To tell him how much he loved him. How he didn’t want him to have any regrets about their first kiss being a drunk, crying mess. He couldn’t tell if it was the right or wrong thing to do. The heartbreak had crippled any logical thought or reason he could have come up with. It didn’t matter anymore.

He slid down the door as the floodgates opened up. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to even think through the sobs that tore through him. The banging at the door began as Emi shouted at him to move out of the way in-between asking what happened. Eventually he would let her in and eventually he would stop crying, but for now all he could do was lay down and hope he would sink into the floor. Into nothing. Never to be seen again.

#puffer legacy #ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 legacy #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 stories #puffer legacy extras #haru terzi #ilya petrovsky #so

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mochi-marmalade · 10 months

Text

Rose & Scar

ONE: The Rose

♡ series masterlist ♡

a/n: HERE WE GO royal guard!König x princess!reader 3.2k words chapter summary: you are assigned a personal guard, who you take a liking to. suddenly your days seem brighter warnings: language, slightly suggestive (?) 18+ MDNI

Exactly one week ago today, your father gifted you a personal guard. He had been handpicked by your father for your safety- after all you are a woman now. Father does little to conceal his distaste for your refusal to marry, but how can you marry when every suitor is so incredibly boring? They had no real interest in you anyway, many were pushed by their own royal parents or had come in hopes that you’d be a beautiful, complacent prospect. They were wrong. You turned down every single one of them. However… you cannot deny your liking for your new guard. He is quiet, but exudes an energy that demands respect. You know it is quite unbecoming for a princess to be in a situation like this, but nothing will come of it. You are sure that someday you’ll find a proper prince who actually wants to get to know you and court you. You hope. For now, you sit at your desk, head in hand, and look out the window at the scenery below. You are prone to getting lost in your thoughts and daydreaming, which you suppose you are doing right now. Instead you think you’ll ask for some tea. The door opens and you peek out into the long hallway. As usual, your guard is standing by your door. You call your handmaiden and return to your room while you wait for her to arrive. “You’re up early today, Your Highness.” She chimes as she walks in.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“I’ve brought your breakfast along with some tea. Which dress will it be today?”

You say the first color that comes to mind, “A green one.” She dresses you in a soft sage green dress that flows to the ground. She slips shoes on your feet and powders your face lightly. “His Majesty expects to see you at lunch today. Have a wonderful day, Your Highness.” With that, she slips out the door. You eat your breakfast and drink your tea rather quickly. “Another boring day.” You sigh to yourself. Although you are certainly very lucky and grateful to live the life you have, it still comes with its downsides. Every day is the same, and you are nearly crushed with rigid rules and expectations. You manage, though. Closing the door behind you with a click, you tell your guard, “Come along.” As you two make the short walk to the library, you tell him about your plans to take drawing supplies and books. You’d like to flip through several romance novels and sketch different scenes, maybe it would give you something to do besides study. He follows along in silence. You push open the doors to the library and revel in your grand collection. You think there are probably thousands of books in here, and you’re glad to have access to them. You peruse the selection of books and pick out a few sappy romance novels, also taking a few sheets of blank paper and a sealed well of ink. “Is there anything you’d like?” You ask him. He doesn’t reply, but his icy blue eyes flicker to you. You wonder why he wears a mask. Maybe you’ll ask him someday. Slowly, your guard shakes his head, muttering, “Thank you, Your Highness.” You stare at him, merely processing the sound of his voice. You’re actually not sure you’ve ever heard it before, but it lingers in your mind and you wonder what accent he has. German, maybe. You’re at a loss for words so you nod at him in response, and walk back to your room. You sit at your desk for a while and draw scenes from books: lovers seated on the grass, holding hands and looking at each other. You sigh, wishing you could have this kind of relationship. Really, you have very few relationships at all, including your father and servants. Father. You check the clock, finding that it is five minutes before noon and exhale a sigh of relief. You exit your room to go to the dining hall, your guard close behind. You take a seat opposite your father and brush a strand of hair out of your face. “Hello, father.”

“Good afternoon, daughter. I’d like to discuss a few things.”

“Such as?”

“I have arranged a ball for you to find a suitor! In one month’s time, nobles and civilians of higher standing will be gathered to celebrate your belated birthday and offer their sons. Is it not wonderful?”

“Yes… Wonderful.” You exchange small talk for the rest of your meal, then you are excused. You do not want to attend a ball. In fact, you do not like the idea at all. An event like that will attract all the wrong people, but you pray that you’ll be shown otherwise. You are guided through your studies by teachers for the next few hours, until you are released for dinner. After eating alone, you return to your room. What a dreadfully boring day. You’ve established a habit of undressing yourself, and as you unlace your corset, you spy the stars through the window. Once changed into your nightgown, you inspect the night sky. You’ve always loved stars. Finally, you crawl into bed and drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Stretching, you awaken to your handmaiden setting down your breakfast. “Thank you.” You yawn.

“Shall I draw you a bath?”

“Yes, I think I would like that.”

She scurries off to do that, and you dress into a robe. She returns and escorts you to the bath, followed by your guard. You’re painfully aware of his presence outside the bathroom door, but bathe in peace anyway. When you’re done, you put on your robe again and call your handmaiden. She escorts you back to your room and dresses you in a sky blue dress. “You look lovely, princess.”

“Thank you, Sara.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

She leaves, and your attention is turned to your desk. There lays a bright red rose, which you’re sure wasn’t there before. You pick it up and notice all the thorns have been clipped off. Who could have left this? Then you realize it’s probably a gift from another suitor. Although you appreciate the simplicity, you scoff at the thought. Perhaps, though… it wouldn’t hurt to put it in a vase. It seemed too cruel to throw it away. You unceremoniously toss your fake flowers out of a shimmery pink vase and take your vase to the bathroom to fill it with water. As your guard follows, his eyes never leave you. “Just, um, getting water for a flower. Probably from another stupid suitor.” His eyes flicker to the side. “What’s your name by the way?” You ask.

“König.”

“That’s German, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you speak German then?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, your hands are wet and you notice the vase is overflowing. “Oh, shit.” You say to yourself. He huffs in amusement, to which you raise an eyebrow. König quickly straightens himself, “Apologies, Your Highness. I just… Didn’t expect someone of your standing to use such language.” Before you know it, you’re grinning at him, not expecting this answer. His eyes scan you and he asks, “Did I offend you, Your Highness? My deepest apologies, I didn’t-“

“No, no! It’s just funny.”

König’s eyes crinkle in what you think is a smile. You stare at him and find yourself absolutely unable to form any words. You turn on your heel and quickly return to your room, forgetting to close the door behind you. You place the rose in the vase, and see König peeking at you out of the corner of your eye. “It’s the flower I mentioned earlier.” He visibly stiffens, and asks, “From the suitor?”

“Yes, I often have suitors ask for my hand in marriage. It’s nauseating. None of them even want to get to know me, they just want to own me.”

He hums, and you look down at the pretty rose. “Would you like to go somewhere with me?” You ask. “I don’t have much of a choice, princess.” What an ass. You walk with him down to the garden, which may be your favorite part of the castle. You sit on a white stone bench and motion for him to do the same. He sits slowly and carefully. “Princess, I’m not sure if I’m allowed to do this.”

“Oh, hush, it’s not a crime to sit.”

He looks away. You sit in silence for a bit, treasuring the sunshine and sounds of chirping birds. Finally, you tell him, “I love the gardens. Have you been here before?”

“Yes, princess.”

A part of you feels dejected, as if you wanted to be the one to show him the gardens. “I used to hide here when I didn’t want to bathe.” What are you even saying? “The servants hated it.” Why are you still talking? Finally, you manage to shut up, but instead of repulsed König almost looks amused. You feel your cheeks heating up, and look at the hydrangeas to your right. It must be hot out today. Leaning over, you pick a small flower and smell it. A smile is brought to your face by the soft, nostalgic scent. You hold it out to König, telling him, “It’s lily of the valley. My favorite flower.” He takes it and nods. He really isn’t much for words, is he? “I’m sorry,” You blurt out. “I feel as if I'm bothering you with all my questions and conversation.” Shaking his head, he replies, “Don’t be. It’s my job.” Your heart sinks like an anchor in your body. Right. It’s just his job, why would you think there would be any semblance of a friendship? He notices you looking down at your hands for far too long and places his own gloved hand on your shoulder. “Princess, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m quite fine, thank you.”

He can’t help but feel as if he’s said something wrong. You look up at him with tear-glazed eyes and it damn near breaks his heart. “Are you really only talking to me ‘cause it’s your job?” You manage.

“No.”

You relax and sniff once more, not sure whether you should trust him or not. You barely know him, after all. You smile at him anyway, and he gives you some sort of look you can’t discern. “Shall we walk, princess?” His question surprises you. “Yes, I suppose we shall.” You hold the crook of his elbow, and his muscles seem to become rigid under your touch. It seems almost as if you can feel his sheer strength from the size of his biceps alone. Now that you think about it, he’s huge in general. You wonder what it’s like to be trapped under him, utterly powerless against his- You pat your face with your free hand and decide that’s quite enough. “Er- Princess, forgive my forwardness, but that’s quite inappropriate, is it not?” You turn to him and your eyes widen before you realize he’s talking about the fact you’re holding his arm.

“Ah. Well, I am quite clumsy. Besides, is it not a form of chivalry? Do you mean that you have no respect for the princess, König?”

“Certainly not, Your Highness! I simply meant… Is it not a sign that we would be courting?”

He says the last word in a low voice, almost a whisper. The way he says it is as if he could never think of the possibility of courting you, and it almost hurts you. Then you remember that it is, in fact, not a possibility. You are a princess and he is your guard, and it is nothing more. So why do you keep thinking of him this way? As if you could sit on the plush grass together, holding hands and reading poetry. As if you could press chaste kisses to his knuckles and lay his head in your lap, weaving your hands through his hair. You wonder what his hair even looks like. He always wears a helm carefully designed by you, along with a cloth mask that covers most of his face. Your handmaiden, Sara, had asked for you to sketch a new design for the royal guards’ armor, although it had actually only been used for your special, personal guard. You wonder if he ever felt as silly as he looked- a large, hulking man with dainty decals on his helm and a large sword strapped to his waist. “Princess?”

“Oh. Well, I don’t see it that way and you don’t either, so it doesn’t matter.”

“But you must keep up appearances, Your Highness.”

“And who would dare to argue with the crown princess?”

König falls silent, and begins to walk along with you. The two of you meander through the lush gardens, watching birds flitter by and bees buzz among the flowers. You pause for a second to pick a purple cosmos and place it between the strap of his baldric and his breastplate. Surprisingly, it stays. “Ah… Princess.” He mumbles. You laugh absentmindedly. If he didn’t look silly before, he certainly does now. “It suits you well, König.”

“Princess, I am aware that I am your personal guard, although I’d advise you to distance yourself from me. You’re hardly fit to be friends with a soldier.”

“According to whom? I do think I have a say in who I become friends with.”

“Of course, Your Highness. However, I think… If you knew what kinds of things I’d done…”

“And who says that it would matter, König? Who says that what you’d done in the past determines your happiness now?”

The two of you are locked in a stare, and the air feels electric. His eyes move, from your eyes to your cheeks to your lips. You can hardly keep your feelings inside, butterflies threatening to explode from your stomach at any moment. Finally, he looks away. “Let’s return to the castle, I feel a bit hungry.” You’re such a liar, but you can’t stand the tension. He nods and follows you back into the castle. You call Sara and ask her to bring you a snack, perhaps finger sandwiches and tea. She leaves to do so, and you begin to reflect on what just happened. Step by step, you walk yourself through the past hour. You and König walked through the garden, and you took his arm and told him he deserves happiness. With you. God, you’re an idiot. He definitely thinks you’re weird and maybe even knows that you have feelings. Today, you’ve done irreparable damage to your reputation and relationship with König. You should have kept your mouth shut, you should have never even invited him to sit with you. “Your Highness, I’ve returned with your tea.”

“Thank you, Sara.”

“You’re welcome, Your Highness. Is… everything okay?”

“Yes. That will be all.”

“Then pardon my intrusion. Have a wonderful day.”

You nod to her, although you’re looking through the window with your head in your hand. The closest thing you’ve ever had to a friendship is already destroyed. Feeling nauseated, you wonder if you’ve ever had a friend. You scoff to yourself for even wondering, immediately knowing the answer is no. How will you ever fix this? Maybe you’ll apologize or tell him you were joking- no, you’ll ask for a new guard. This is truly a fine predicament. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll take a short nap and sleep this disgusting feeling off.

When you awaken, you lift your head off of your crossed arms to find the sky completely dark. Your dress feels incredibly uncomfortable and you walk to your closet to change. Then you’re interrupted by your stomach growling. Perhaps you’ll just grab a quick snack, but how? The kitchens must be closed at this hour, and you don’t know where else to go. You’d also rather not wake Sara. Groaning, you think there’s only one reasonable option, and you’re not even sure it’s all that reasonable. You peek your head out the door and whisper, “König?” He’s very much awake and alert, and looks surprised that you’re awake too. “Princess, what are you doing up right now?”

“I’m hungry.”

He stuffs his hand into a pouch strapped to his leg, and after fishing for a moment he pulls out a wrapped bar of some sort. He looks away nervously, and offers it to you. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness, this is all I have. I don’t think the kitchens are open, unless you want to wake your servants, I’m sure they’d be willing to-”

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

You take the bar from him and retreat to your bedroom. You eat it absentmindedly and change into your nightgown. It tastes pretty good, actually, like it has peanuts and some kind of dried berry. You’re fortunate enough to be the kind of person who can sleep anywhere, anytime, so you turn the lights off and climb into bed. You let your mind wander for a bit, but you’re eventually lulled to sleep by the soft light of the moon.

The next week is dreadfully dull and you don’t have anything notable happen. However, you continue to have friendly conversations with König. You’d like to get to know more about him, but you wonder how much he’d actually tell you. He doesn’t seem to be the very trusting type, nor does he seem eager to tell anyone about his past. You go about daily life for who knows how long, but somehow everything is different. Things seem more fun, and you actually look forward to certain activities. You’d like to learn another language, but don’t want to go through the trouble of asking your father for another teacher. Besides, he carefully picks each of your studies and you doubt he’d let you give up a current subject for language. You sigh, picking at the plate of chicken in front of you. Maybe falconry would be interesting? You’re sure you could find a book about it in the library. A servant from the kitchen comes to check on you. He frowns when asking, “Is the chicken not to your liking, Your Highness?”

“Oh, no. It’s wonderful, I just don’t have much of an appetite.”

He nods and takes the plate, and you leave the massive, empty dining hall. As you’re walking through the long hallway, you wonder how long it’s been since your lunch with your father. You freeze, realizing it’s probably been a few weeks. Weeks. Which means the ball is drawing near. The feeling sets as a pit in your already upset stomach, and you sigh louder than you mean to. “Is there something wrong, princess?” Of course König has to ask.

“Ah, yeah. There’s just this thing tomorrow.”

“Yes, of course, the thing I’m obviously supposed to know about.” His voice drips with sarcasm, and you shoot him a glare. “It’s the ball, you fool.”

“Yeah, and I was supposed to know that. Isn’t that a good thing, though?”

“Well, it should be, but my father expects me to find a husband. Tomorrow. Within a few hours.”

“I see. Well, I wish you luck.”

“Thanks.” You scoff. Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day.

#könig #könig x reader #x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod #cod mw2 #thank you for reading this far #:')

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mermaidfanficlibrary · 10 months

Note

Bouquet for Monsieur Rook!

50.) Lavender - Love at First Sight, 12.) Moonflower - Dreaming of Love and 26.) Lily of the Valley - Good Luck

‎‧₊🦋˚✧A Bouquet for you My dear✧˚🦋₊‧| Pt. 6 | Flower love for you, my love

Characters: Rook Hunt

Summary: Sending Rook Hunt Lavender, Moon Flower, and Lily of the Valley

Warnings: Just pure fluff

Taglist: @nightshade-clown, @lucid-stories

Sending the chosen flowers to Rook Hunt... Loading now...

[■■■□□□□□□□] 30% [■■■■□□□□□□] 40% [■■■■■□□□□□] 50% [■■■■■■□□□□] 60% [■■■■■■■■□□] 80% [■■■■■■■■■□] 90%

Now sent! Would you like to wait for a response?

[> Yes] >No

...

Rook was walking through the Pomefiore dorm, looking for Vil amongst the busy dorm members. He kept looking for Vil, but all he was able to see was a familiar periwinkle haired boy running up to him. His eyes followed Epel as his figure came closer and closer. His eyes went further to see Epel holding a gorgeous vase full of flowers. Rook felt so much excitement seeing the arrangement.

“My Epel! Who are these for?”

Epel turned his face up to look at Rook. He felt kind of intimidated under his upper classman’s gaze. He held the vase out to Rook, hinting to him to take it. The blond gently took the vase from Epel, his eyes sparkling at each flower that had bloomed perfectly. Rook looked at Epel, still awaiting the answer to his question.

“They’re for you Rook.”

Epel pointed to the small tag that had a note attached. Rook looked at it and brought one hand to turn it so he could read it. His eyes widen when he saw who send him the arrangement. He smiled brightly and could only imagine the person that sent them. He read the tag out loud his tone was so excited.

“To Rook, from Y/n. Oh, how lovely! Y/n really has an eye for flower arrangements!”

Rook took the vase to his room, seeing as it would be a better idea to read the note in his room. He detached the letter and opened it ever so delicately. He had this stupid smile on his face, one that couldn’t be removed at the thought of you sending him something this beautiful. He found even more beauty in the words inside your letter. His eyes were full of love the more he read the letter.

Lavender: Love at First Sight

When I first saw you in the halls, my heart skipped a beat. I wanted to talk to you more, and when you approached me, I thought the universe had heard my wish. I was so flustered, I didn’t expect you to be talking to me. You are so extraordinary and the more we talked, the more I felt myself falling in love with you. I can’t express how much I have fallen for you, and our first encounter was enchanting. It plays in my mind over and over again. I can’t stop thinking about you and how you smiled at me.

Moonflower: Dreaming of Love

Ever since I first saw you, my mind was only ever on you. Your smile, your hair, and just everything about you have been stuck in my head. I love you so much, and I’ve only ever been dreaming of being with you. My days and nights are filled with dreams of being with you. Nothing can bring me out of the daydreams of you, and it distracts me so much. But I don’t mind the distractions, since they leave me so happy and flustered. I’m kicking my feet and smiling all silly like while I’m writing this to you. I never want to stop thinking of you.

Lily of the Valley: Good luck

I wanted to say good luck with everything! From school, to vice house warden duties, to anything else you are pursuing. I hope you know I’ll be your biggest supporter in whatever you’re doing because I just adore you. I want to bring you luck and help you with everything. Even if you might not need it, I just want to be with you and help you. You’re amazing and deserve luck and all the good things in life. I hope you don’t mind me wanting to support and help you, but I want you to know you can always count on me.

— Your love, Y/n

He was touched by your words, and a soft smile graced his lips. He didn't expect you to be so straightforward with your feelings like this. And the beautiful flowers were what added the fuzzy feelings he had in his heart. The next day he shot an arrow with a letter attached into your bedroom, probably not the best idea since now your window is shattered. The letter had not only response to your gift but his truest feelings within.

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

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freesia-writes · 1 year

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Some Tup Love ❤️

Doing all these one shots for clones I’ve never written before has been SO FUN! I somehow lost the ask post for this one, but here is the sweet little glimpse into this adorable boy for @fives-girlfriend <3

Tup x Reader - Word Count: 3.6k

“Come on, Tup. It’ll be awesome!” Hardcase exclaimed, clapping him on the back with enough enthusiasm to nearly knock him off his bench.

“Yeah, they’ve never done this at 79s before!” Fives added, and even Dogma nodded vigorously through his mouthful of food.

“I know, it’s just…” Tup began, but Jesse’s arrival, accompanied with a loud “who’s ready to party tonight?!” drowned out the rest of his reply.

It was the talk of the mess hall -- Sy Snootles was coming to perform at 79s, and she was bringing along an infamous troupe of Twi’lek dancers, supposedly heralded throughout the galaxy as some of the most luscious and lascivious one could encounter. The clones who were lucky enough to be on Coruscant were undoubtedly excited, as they were rarely considered deserving of such luxuries. A few squads were planning to attend, the 501st being one of them, as you had heard on your lunch break.

You worked with them frequently when they were on world, providing armor improvements, repairs, and tune-ups beyond what they would do for regular inspections. You were part of a small team that scuttled from armory to armory, equipping troopers with updated devices and outfitting new squads. The 501st boys were some of your favorites, having enough personality among them for the entire GAR. One in particular had always held a soft spot in your heart, with his unassuming demeanor and quiet insight. You’d chatted with him often while going over various armor components, and the stories he’d shared about the horrors of Umbara had broken your heart for him. He’d formed strong bonds with his brothers, especially after enduring that nightmare, and you’d felt your affection growing as you saw him grow from a fresh little rookie to a skilled negotiator, brave soldier, and man of strong convictions.

If you were honest, he’d grown on you a lot. You found yourself daydreaming, during slow hours, of slowly freeing his hair from its neat little bun, running your fingers through it, and tracing your lips across his cheek to the little teardrop tattoo beneath his eye. But you’d also become close friends, and you were fairly certain that was the extent of his perspective and feelings toward you. There was an intimacy and familiarity between you that had been established as he’d shared some of his most vulnerable moments and harrowing experiences while you’d listened quietly, patting his hand and offering empathetic platitudes that couldn’t begin to match the magnitude of what he had been through. At some point, it had grown into more than just fondness, you’d realized, and it resulted in a simmering attraction that burned in your chest whenever you saw him.

So when you found him at the back of the cluster of troopers waiting for the lift after lunch, and he caught sight of you as you approached him from the side, it sent a little shiver of tingles down your spine at the small smile that curved across his face.

“CT-5385,” you said quietly, giving him a solemn salute that earned you an eyeroll as he looped his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into a warm side hug.

“Cut it out,” he commanded, dropping his arm as you filtered into the crowded lift. “You heard all the fuss about 79s tonight?” he asked, barely audible over the rest of the chatter in the small space.

“I did. You going?” you asked, feeling a sudden whirlwind of mixed emotions at it.

“I’m not really feeling it, but it doesn’t sound like I have a choice,” Tup answered, shrugging and tipping his head toward his fellow blue-striped 501st brothers.

“I can call you in for an emergency armor upgrade if you’d like,” you offered, to which he chuckled and shook his head.

“Why don’t you just come?” he asked, looking up at you with those large honey-brown eyes. “It would make it a lot more bearable, that’s for sure.”

Your heart skipped a beat, wondering if he did have feelings for you after all, or if it was just the simple statement of one enjoying the company of a friend. You couldn’t help but smile, though, and tried to angle your face away from the light as you felt your cheeks grow slightly warm as you wondered about his affections.

“I will if you will,” you said, resuming your light and airy attitude as the lift doors whooshed open.

“Game on,” he declared, giving you the cheesiest finger guns you’d ever seen, promptly cringing at it, shrugging, and pulling his helmet on as he trotted off after his squad.

“It’s a date?” you whispered under your breath as he disappeared around the corner.

* * *

79s was packed to the brim, and clusters of troopers spilled out onto the streets all around it. The atmosphere was infectiously exciting, as though the entire world were on pause and tonight was a chance to escape it all for a few hours. There were three times as many food carts as usual, as the local vendors were quick to pick up on any chance for some extra business, and the entire block seemed like a party in itself. You started to feel anxious and out of place, as this wasn’t usually your thing. It had been something you and Tup had bonded over from the start -- a preference for more quiet, intellectual, serene spaces as opposed to the vibrant party scenes that more of the troopers opted for.

You adjusted your outfit, feeling slightly self-conscious as it was decidedly more fitted and flattering than your simple work jumpsuit. You realized you had never really seen Tup in a more informal setting, as your interactions were primarily in the mess hall, the armory, or the barracks. All the questions and doubts began to swirl in your mind, amplified by the booming music that assaulted you as soon as you pushed your way into 79s. Heading straight for the bar and downing a double shot of liquid courage before you even looked around, you wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, returning the glass to the countertop and scanning the room for familiar faces.

“You’re off to an ambitious start,” came a smooth voice from behind you. “Lookin to stir up some trouble? Give those Twi’leks some competition?” You smirked, turning to face Fives, whose presence could be felt as much as heard. His boisterousness and joviality always brought a smile to your face, and you admired his ability to channel that even after his harrowing experiences at war.

“Oh, you know me…” you said, shrugging as you felt the tingly burn down your throat, warming your chest. “Where are the rest of the boys?”

“Upstairs, for now. Lost a fight with the 212th for the table by the stage, but we’re plotting our revenge,” Fives said with a conspiratorial wink as he jerked his head toward the stairs, motioning you to come along. There was something different about tonight, whether it was the setting or the occasion or some strange alignment of the stars, and you just felt an apprehensive prickle down your spine, as though something were about to happen. You ordered another double shot, taking it with you as you trotted up the stairs after Fives.

A couple whistles and hoots met you as you reached the top of the stairs, and you grinned bashfully as Hardcase and Jesse catcalled you while Fives announced your presence. It felt like being welcomed home, as cheesy as that sounded in your own head, with the kind familiarity and brotherly acceptance they always had for you. Hopefully not TOO brotherly… for all of them at least… Your eyes roved across their faces, finding the one that made your heart flutter. Tup was crushed in the corner of the booth, mercilessly squeezed between Hardcase and Dogma, arms pushed into his sides. You laughed at the sight of him, and he carefully arranged his features into sarcastic disdain when he met your eyes.

“Our little armorer here thinks she can keep up with us,” Fives proclaimed, gesturing grandly toward you as you gave him a quizzical look, having promised no such thing. “So let’s show her a good time tonight, eh boys?” A cacophony of agreement, friendly taunts, and promises followed his words, and you shook your head, the elation of the moment sweeping you up, and downed the double shot in your hand in one gulp.

“Ohhhhhhhh she ain’t messin around!!” Denal howled, slapping the table amid the cheers and squawks.

“Alright, move out. I want to sit right THERE,” you demanded, pointing to the corner between Dogma and Tup, who were surprised by your sudden attention. Hardcase laughed, eternally ready to join in any sort of shenanigans and feeding off of your energy, and rose to his feet, pushing the rest of the clones right off the bench to make way for you to climb in. They filled back in, squeezing even more, and jostled each other for room until Kix toppled off the end and had to search for a chair instead.

“Hey buddy,” you said to Tup, happily pressed against his side from shoulder to knee. His plastoid armor plates were carefully positioned to avoid digging an edge into your side, although as you snuggled in, you found yourself wondering what it would be like to slowly take each one off…

“You’re in rare form,” he noted, lifting an eyebrow at your effervescent attitude. “What was Fives on about?”

“That was all him,” you laughed, “But for some reason this just sounded really fun tonight. You excited about the dancers? Perhaps get yourself a special one?” Why were you baiting him like this? Your head felt a little bubbly, and the wild atmosphere was doing nothing to help it. Tup gave a low chuckle, dropping his eyes to the table, tracing his finger around a ring of condensation drops from his tall drink.

“Jesse threatened to buy me one, but I doubt he’ll go through with it. He’d rather spend the credits on drinks for the ladies…”

“Well. You deserve a break. You can’t keep everything pent up inside all the time,” you affirmed, nodding confidently as you shifted to survey the rest of the crowd. Tup looked up at the side of your face, suddenly pensive and solemn, as though he yearned to speak. You felt his eyes on you and turned back curiously, eyebrows lifted and an inviting smile on your lips, but he just returned your grin with a small one of his own, shook his head a little, and followed your previous glance out to the crowd as the announcer began introducing the infamous guest stars.

* * *

The show seemed to go on forever, punctuated with breaks where the performers would come out and work the crowd… both literally and figuratively. The booth had emptied a bit, as the troopers scattered to the refresher, the bar, and other groups. You and Tup had been lost in conversation, heads leaned together, living through adventures and faraway thoughts, completely engrossed in each other’s company. The connection was absolutely vibrant, and you felt pulled to him more than ever before. The general raucousness of the bar got louder as the performers were making their way upstairs, scattering to dance and laugh with the clones there. You felt a sudden flare of passion, a mixture of jealousy, protectiveness, and the mounting pressure of all the feelings you had for this trooper that you’d been stifling for so long.

Two of the dancers whirled over to the booth, purring their invitations. One slowly sat on the eager knees Jesse, who laughed and yelled, “For free?!” The other climbed onto the bench on all fours and began crawling toward Tup, who looked alarmed. In a rush of emotion, you scrambled to get up, banging your knee on the table incredibly hard as you suddenly threw yourself across Tup’s lap. As you straddled him, you turned and put a hand out toward the Twi’lek.

“This one’s mine, honey!” you said, channeling all the sass you’d ever seen on the holovids. The performer laughed, waggling her finger at you and sidling back out of the booth, only to be quickly scooped up by a pilot trooper. You turned back to Tup, resting your hands on his shoulders and looking down at him now from your perch on his lap. He was sitting straight as an arrow, hands held up slightly out to the sides as if he didn’t know where to put them. Heat blossomed across your cheeks and throughout your chest, and you laughed, trying to seem lighthearted but also not wanting to move anytime soon.

“I’m just looking out for you,” you said teasingly, glancing over your shoulders in mock fright as though there were horrors lurking around every corner. As you came back to him, he let out a laugh that almost sounded forced, and you noticed his eyebrows were working overtime to conceal the cesspool of emotions that were funneling through his brain.

“Thank goodness,” he breathed, with another nervous chuckle, awkwardly lowering his hands to the outsides of your thighs and setting them down so precariously, you’d think you were made of glass.

“Better make it convincing though,” you said, lifting your hands to his hair, where you gently pulled the band off of his ever-present man bun. His textured brown locks toppled down, holding their shape where they’d been twisted around each other day after day. It was comical, as it lay in messy tufts around his shoulders and one decidedly large bump in the middle, but it was also incredibly sexy, and you felt yourself literally salivating. You also felt a panic settle in all of a sudden, wondering if you were wildly crossing the line… Or perhaps you were getting a question answered that had been burning for a long time now.

He lifted his chin, eyes fluttering shut for a full second as you slowly, painstakingly raked your fingers through his hair, now free of its tight constraint. Your hands continued across his skull, down the back of his neck, and then forward along each side of his jawline until they came together at his chin, where you finished by giving his nose a tiny boop. His eyes widened, realizing your face was within inches of his, and he suddenly shifted himself to the side, knocking you off balance and onto the bench. He scrambled out of the booth, catching one quick glimpse from Jesse, who had been oblivious to you two due to the undulating distraction in front of him.

You felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, cringing so hard at the thought that you may have just ruined everything, and you flailed to get out of the booth after him. You caught sight of him disappearing out the balcony door (you didn’t know 79s had a balcony did ya? It does now!) just as it closed behind him. Pausing before following him out, you watched him lean on the railing, looking at the Coruscant underworld stretching out before him as his hair drifted across his eyes in the speeder-induced breeze. His expression was unreadable, and startled you in how foreign it looked.

Taking a deep breath, you ventured outside, steeling yourself to try to patch things up. You pulled up next to the railing next to him and faced the city skyline, feeling too sheepish to meet him head-on. You fumbled for words, wringing your hands together in not-so-subtle anxiety. “I’m sorry…” you began.

“Don't ever do that again!,” he said suddenly, startling you into standing up straight and facing him fully. You were filled with regret, looking up at him apologetically and readying your explanations, until he continued speaking in a low growl that sent an electric shock through you. “You have no idea what it does to me…” he admitted, voice slightly hoarse at the end. He slowly stood from his lean over the railing, leaving one hand on it and turning toward you, the other hand pushing his hair out of his face. As your eyes found his, you were lost in the rich brown pools of emotion, accentuated by the wild mess of his hair that made him look like an entirely different person. His hand clenched at his side, and he shifted his eyes off to the horizon again.

“What does it do to you, Tup?” you asked quietly, and he closed his eyes at his name, soft on your lips, before slowly opening them and taking a step closer. The intensity of his gaze and the singular focus of his presence were electrifying, and you felt as though your insides were trembling.

“It drives me crazy,” he whispered, some dark waves twisting across his forehead as the breeze ruffled past. He looked from eye to eye, taking in your face with an enamored stare as though he were seeing it for the first time. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I love our talks. I love getting to see you. I love your wit, your intelligence, your curiosity…” His confession had been coming out more confidently but hit an abrupt halt as his gaze dropped to the ground. “I’m sorry if it ruins our friendship,” he said with a resigned tone, and your heart took a tentative leap in your chest as you processed his words, hoping they meant what you thought they did.

Fueled by his vulnerability and absolutely irresistible look, you reached for him, slipping your hands around the back of his neck, one slightly roving up into the roots of his hair at the base of his neck, and pulled him gently toward you. His arms were around you in a flash, and after one last meaningful, searching glance that seemed to stretch out into eternity, he closed the distance and kissed you deeply. Your tiny gasp of delight was swallowed up by his mouth pressed against yours, muscles tightening around you, pulling you against his armor. His hair gently tickled your cheeks, and you savored the taste of his lips, the scent of his shampoo, and the electrifying excitement of being in his embrace.

He pulled back, mouth falling open as though he couldn’t believe what had just happened, and stared at you in awe. You offered a sheepish smile, giddy at the sight of him so shocked and enthralled. He lowered his hands to take yours, shaking his head at the ground, still dumbfounded.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” you admitted, and he jerked his head back up to you, mouth curving into an elated smile. “You’re my favorite, Tup. You’re brave and insightful and kind and complex… I think the world of you.” Each word you spoke seemed to inflate him more and more with an overjoyed enchantment that lit up his face in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“I didn’t think people saw us as unique enough to be interested… for real…” he murmured, and you shook your head, surprised and sad that he’d have such a notion. You lifted a hand to his cheek, which sent his eyebrows up a little further, and touched your nose to his.

“Well I do,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. He eagerly reciprocated, pressing one hand against the small of your back and drawing the other up between your shoulder blades. His lips were so soft, yet firm and commanding, and his nose pressed into your cheek. There was more of a passion to it now, an intimacy and urgency that set off fireworks in your soul, and you dug your hands into his hair again, relishing the thick tufts between your fingers as you clenched it gently at the roots. A satisfied rumble came from his chest, and he tilted his head, deepening the kiss until you were seeing stars. When he finally let you go, you gasped in as much of the cold night air as you could as though it alone were tethering you to reality. He smiled, face inches away, glowing with wonder.

“I think there might be more of those Twi’leks up here,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye, and you laughed breathlessly. “Better make it convincing,” he murmured, turning to back you up against the side of the building, leaning in with a sudden confidence, and bringing his hands to your face. He was kissing you again, pressing against you all over, hands roving from cheek to shoulder to waist to hair. It felt as though a dam had broken, and so much that had been held at bay was crashing down in the most incredible, unbelievable way. You lifted your leg, wrapping it around him, and he immediately gripped it with a gloved hand, moving his armored thigh and hip into you for support and stability. Kissing your way down his neck as he rolled his head to the side, closing his eyes in blissful abandon, you gave the top of his turtleneck a little snap, sending both of you into a quiet giggle fit as you held yourselves together. Every inch yearned to be connected, and you slowly lowered your leg, nestling your head into his neck and shoulder, not daring to move lest you wake up from this dream.

“I guess we did show you a decent time tonight, eh?” he whispered in your ear, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a warm, protective hug.

#star wars clone wars #clone simp #clone trooper tup #tcw tup #tup #clone wars tup

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warrioreowynofrohan · 11 months

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I’m subscribed to Wildfell Weekly, so here’s some thoughts on the first three chapters of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. I’ve read it before, so there are some very general spoilers for later events, but no specifics.

So, who is Gilbert Markham, from what we’ve seen so far? I would say that, on the whole, he’s a fairly average guy. He has a good relationships with his family; he has a job (important, as we will see later - Anne Brontë has strong opinions about the negative effects of idleness and privilege upon men of the gentry class); he has a pretty high opinion of himself; and he’s good with kids. He is decided not Byronic - his life to this point has been very normal and uneventful - whereas Mrs. Graham is the unconventional one with a mysterious past and distinctive looks.

He is a mix of the practical (looking at the Romantic scenery around Wildfell Hall, he thinks first in terms of its agricultural properties) and the romantic (he nonetheless spends a while looking at the house and daydreaming; and, while telling himself he doesn’t like Mrs. Graham, he powtically describes her “sweet, pale face and lofty brow, where thought and suffering seem equally to have stamped their impress”.

He and his social circle seem clearly of a lower social class than what we see in, for example, the novels of Jane Austen - none of Austen’s rural characters farm their own land, and all of them have servants. In Pride and Prejudice, Mrs. Bennet is offended by Mr. Collins’ assumption that one of her daughters cooked their dinner; their servants do that! Whereas Gilbert’s mother prides herself on her cooking and criticizes Mrs. Graham’s lack of knowledge in that area (which provides a hint towards Mrs. Graham’s background).

He has conventional opinions, and defends them determinedly against Helen’s equally determined advocacy of unconventional ones, and he’s very annoyed by how effectively she reveals the unconscious double standards buried in his views. Mrs. Graham’s views - that young men should not be expected to resist all temptation unaided, and that young women should not be sheltered even from the knowledge of evils, but that both should be aided by the experience of others - is the same that the author expresses in the Preface:

When we have to deal with vice and vicious characters, I maintain it is better to depict them as they really are than as they would wish to appear. To represent a bad thing in its least offensive light is doubtless the most agreeable course for a writer of fiction to pursue; but is it the most honest, or the safest? Is it better to reveal the snares and pitfalls of life to the young and thoughtless traveller, or to cover them with branches and flowers. O Reader! if there were less of this delicate concealment of facts - this whispering of ‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace - there would be less of sin and misery to the young of both sexes who are left to wring their bitter knowledge from experience.

#the tenant of wildfell hall #anne bronte #helen graham #gilbert markham #wildfell weekly

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ladytauria · 9 months

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Fandom: Batman Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Rating: Explicit Words: 13k+ (kind of)

Mr. Drake has asked Jason to meet him after class.

This fic has two endings; chapter 1 is a reading guide, while chapters 2 and 3 have the fic + ending a & b. I started writing this part of the way through devil in a dress (god you're so shameless) and meant for it to be fairly short... Um. I think at this point I should just stop trying to write short things :P

Preview under the cut! I hope you enjoy :)

Jason smooths sweaty palms over his skirt, spreading the pleats over his thighs. Butterflies swarm in his stomach. His gaze darts, briefly, to the clock. Five minutes. It feels like he’s been waiting for ages.

Finally, the door swings open.

Jason flinches, but quickly composes himself as Mr. Drake steps out. The butterflies grow even more restless at the sight of him. He’s so handsome, with his long hair half up, a few strands escaping to frame his face. Well-dressed, too, in a button up and vest, and well-fitted slacks. It’s always so hard to focus in his class—though somehow, Jason has managed to maintain an A anyway.

Although…

Maybe he hasn’t, since he’s been asked to meet him after school today.

His expression is stern, but not cruel, when he says— “Jason?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Drake?” Jason says, cursing internally at the way his voice betrays him.

“Come in, please.” Mr. Drake holds the door open wider.

Jason’s heart batters at his breast. He has to force his feet to move, carrying him from the hall to Mr. Drake’s office. The door shuts behind him; the click of the latch echoing between Jason’s ears.

He barely keeps from jumping when Mr. Drake’s hand ghosts over the space between his shoulder blades. It doesn’t matter that he’s wearing both a blazer and a shirt, or that Mr. Drake’s hand seems to almost hover rather than touch—the contact is searing.

“Have a seat,” Mr. Drake says quietly, directing Jason to a chair situated across from his desk.

Jason sits, ankles crossed and hands folded in his lap.

Mr. Drake walks around his desk, sitting behind it. He laces his fingers and rests them atop his desk calendar. “Do you know why I’ve asked to see you, Jason?”

“N-no, sir.” His heart beats a little louder. He chews his lip without really meaning to, part of him wishing Mr. Drake couldn’t see him so he could chew on a knuckle or his tie instead.

Jason does his best to be a good student. He never, ever misses his assignments, or forgets to turn in his homework. He studies every day, answers questions in class, volunteers to help whenever he can. He’s polite to his teachers, even the ones he privately thinks are assholes. It’s exhausting, sometimes, and he knows what the other students think of him… but, he already has enough working against him. He doesn’t want to make it worse.

Mr. Drake hums, and Jason tenses.

He’s Jason’s favorite teacher this year, and his second favorite… ever. He’s—he’s so passionate about his subject. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the way he speaks, swept up by the light in his eyes and the clear zeal in his voice. Jason has learned so much from him, even despite the way he gets lost daydreaming, sometimes.

But—even more importantly—he’s kind. He cares about his students, even the ones most people are happy to let fall through the cracks. Gotham, or the education system in general, hasn’t chewed him up and spit him out yet.

Jason doesn’t want to disappoint him. But—the sound of his hum… He feels like he’s messed up already. He fiddles with the bottom of his blazer.

#jaytim #timjay #batcest #tauriawritesfanfic #tauriawritessmut

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freesiriusblack · 2 years

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Reconnection

I had to get my daydream down in words. All sugar no spice, please be gentle, this is my first time writing anything not for school or D&D. Please let me know what you think (if you like it, hah).

You close your eyes and still your breath before walking through the double doors of the Great Hall, attempting to appear as confident as possible; with a straight back and swift stride. Eyes locked ahead of you on the long staff table and short stool with a battered sorcerer’s hat resting on it, you avoid meeting the gaze of any one person, lest your rising anxiety get the better of you.

Sitting down on the stool as instructed, the hat is softly placed on your head. Now face-to-face with the crowd, you can’t help but scan the faces of your new classmates. As you take in the far table decorated in green and silver, you feel a sudden, solid lump in your throat. Father was right, the boy you knew eight years ago is attending the same school you’ve been transferred to from Ilvermorny.

“Ah, you’re quite intrigued with more than magic and your studies. Remember to focus during your short time here, and you’ll go as far as you ever desire. You will best be prepared in…”

“SLYTHERIN”

Now focused on the boy with the blonde hair, you walk along the bench towards him, careful to keep a controlled pace. In a swift motion you gently place your hands on his shoulders, lean in and whisper as quietly as possible “Do you remember me?”

“Of course, I never expected you to be here, though.”

“I’m glad, let’s talk properly later. I’ve missed you.”

You squeeze his shoulders and quickly kiss one of the marks on his cheek as you turn and walk towards the very end of the table, immediately pulling out a book to do your best with ignoring every face staring and whispering in your direction.

Ominis could feel his face flushing as she walked away from him. It had been so long since he’d met her, they were small children at that time but her voice was unmistakable.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” Sebastian demanded more than asked, “and while you're at it, how I can have someone say ‘hello’ to me like that.” he joked, attempting to lighten his tone while Ominis sat with his face down and brow furrowed.

“Later, and no.” he said abruptly as he rose to his feet, “where did she go? I need to speak with her now.”

“She went to the very end of the table on our side, doesn't seem too keen to talk to anyone else.” Sebastian observed, “You’d better introduce me to her later!” he half-shouted after his friend.

“Me too!” Imelda piped up as Ominis passed by, making his face flush again.

He hoped it wasn’t too late to make amends for his silence after all this time.

Ominis’ father frequently brought him along for any extended time away on business so as to introduce Ominis to Wizard Society early. “It’s important for others to know you now, so they are fond of you later, one day you will need them.”

One of these trips stood out in particular. A Transcontinental Wizarding Summit several years ago. There weren’t usually other children at such events, but this time there had been one other, a girl from America. He vividly remembered her first approaching him while he sat on the floor in the furthest corner of the room. He had been able to hear her fast, echoing steps as she ran toward him from the other side of the large ballroom.

Stopping directly in from of him, she started speaking rapidly while trying to catch her breath at the same time.

“Hi! What’s your name? Is your father here, too? Will you be here the whole week? Do you want to be friends?”

He sat quietly for a long moment, trying to process the sudden string of questions. He felt awkward at her enthusiasm, he hadn’t spent much time around any other children. At his pause she sat down next to him.

“I’m Ominis…” he said in a small voice. Forgetting the questions in the middle he responded to her last, “I suppose we can be friends.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis #ominis gaunt #ominis x you #ominis x reader #ominis x oc

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purplehrts7 · 23 days

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Sunrise - Chapter 1: The Meeting

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the campus of Southern University. Students were scattered across the quad, some lounging on the grass with textbooks, others hurrying to their next class. Among them was Zuri, a 19-year-old English major with a passion for literature that was only matched by her curiosity about the world. Walking beside her was her best friend, Savani, who had a knack for making even the most mundane days exciting.

"Seriously, Zuri, how can you be this calm about today?" Savani teased, nudging Zuri’s arm. "You’re about to meet *the* Dr. Cullen. He’s practically a legend!"

Zuri shrugged, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "He’s just a doctor, Savani. And I’m an English major, remember? I’m not even in his seminar."

"Yeah, but you have to admit, the man is hot. I’m tempted to fake being pre-med just to get a chance to be in the same room with him." Savani grinned, tossing her braids over her shoulder with a playful flick.

Zuri rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. Savani’s antics never failed to amuse her. "I’m sure you’re not the only one thinking that. But let’s not get lost in daydreams. We’ve got ten minutes to get to class, and you know Professor Andrews hates tardiness."

They rounded a corner, the old brick buildings of the university towering above them. Zuri was lost in thought about the paper she needed to finish when she suddenly collided with something—or rather, someone. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she stumbled back, only to be steadied by a pair of strong hands.

"I’m terribly sorry," a deep, smooth voice said. Zuri looked up, her breath catching in her throat as she met the gaze of a tall, strikingly handsome man. His golden eyes held a warmth she hadn’t expected, and his presence seemed to command the air around him.

"It's—it's okay," Zuri stammered, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. She quickly stepped back, realizing she had been holding her breath. Savani, ever the bold one, immediately jumped in.

"No harm done! You’re Dr. Cullen, right? The new professor everyone’s been talking about?"

Carlisle Cullen offered a polite smile, inclining his head slightly. "Yes, that would be me. I’m afraid I’ve gotten a bit turned around. This campus is larger than I anticipated. I’m looking for Lecture Hall C."

Zuri blinked, still trying to process how she had literally run into one of the most talked-about professors on campus. Savani, however, was already in full flirtation mode.

"Lecture Hall C? You’re in luck because we were just heading that way," Savani said with a wink. "We can show you around if you’d like."

Carlisle smiled graciously, though there was a subtle tension in his expression that Zuri couldn’t quite place. "That would be very kind of you, thank you."

As they walked, Zuri noticed the strange way the doctor looked in her direction, and0b. L her heart skipped a beat. It was unnerving, yet oddly thrilling.

"So, Dr. Cullen," Savani began, her voice dripping with playful charm, "I hear you’re quite the expert in your field. What made you decide to leave Forks and come all the way to Georgia?"

Carlisle glanced at Savani, his smile polite, but Zuri caught the brief flicker of something in his eyes when they shifted to her.

"I’ve always believed in the importance of sharing knowledge, especially with young minds eager to make a difference in the world. This opportunity seemed like the perfect way to do that."

Savani leaned a little closer to him as they walked, her voice lowering conspiratorially. "Well, you’re certainly going to make an impression here. A lot of students are already talking about you."

Zuri bit her lip to keep from laughing. Savani was laying it on thick, and she could see that while Carlisle was polite, he wasn’t exactly taking the bait. But then, something unexpected happened. Carlisle’s eyes met Zuri’s again, and she felt a strange pull, like something deep inside her was responding to him in a way she couldn’t understand.Carlisle, on the other hand, was struggling with something far more intense. The moment Zuri had collided with him, something inside him had shifted. His body had reacted—his heart, long thought still, had given a single, potent thump. It wasn’t just an attraction. It was more primal, more profound. His blood felt like it was rushing in his veins, a sensation he hadn’t experienced in centuries. He was a doctor, a man of science, well, a vampire actually… a husband and father. And yet, he couldn’t deny how every fiber of his being was screaming at him for this young woman he'd just barely met a few minutes earlier. Zuri, with eyes big and brown and bright, seemed to pierce through his very soul, shedding light on the deepest, darkest, coldest parts he tried hard to push down. He felt vulnerable under her gaze and yet he wanted her to only look at him.

"I… I believe we’re here," Carlisle said, his voice slightly strained as he forced his attention back to their surroundings. They had arrived at the entrance to Lecture Hall C.

"Right on time," Zuri said, trying to sound casual, though her heart was still racing. "Well, Dr. Cullen, I guess this is where we part ways."

"Yes, thank you both for your help." Carlisle’s gaze lingered on Zuri a moment longer, a silent question in his eyes that he couldn't answer just yet. “ I don't think I ever got a name, though.”

“Savani Mikellson and Zuri Anders.” Savani answered, flashing him one last flirtatious smile. "And if you ever need anything else—directions or otherwise—you can find us in Lecture Hall B, room 302."

Carlisle nodded politely, but as he turned to enter the lecture hall, his thoughts were far from focused on his upcoming class. Zuri Anders … What had fate just dropped into his path?

Zuri and Savani watched as he disappeared into the building, and then Savani let out a low whistle. "Well, that was… something. Did you see the way he kept looking at you? I think someone’s got a crush."

Zuri shook her head, trying to dismiss the fluttering in her chest. "He was just being nice, Savani. Nothing more." But even as she said it, she knew she didn’t quite believe it. There had been something in his eyes. Something she couldn't quite put into words.

"Come on, we’re going to be late," Zuri said, trying to shake off the strange feeling as she tugged Savani along

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liliacvol6 · 2 years

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My Life With The Winchesters: Part 1

Some Backstory: Hi everyone, so I am going in for the LONG HALL with a new fic series. It’s going to be a Dean Winchester x reader where I follow the series and write the reader into it. I always daydream about myself being in Supernatural so I figured why not write all of my storylines into a fanfic! So the reader’s first appearance is in the finale of Season 1

When Bobby, my uncle, called my name and said John Winchester was in major trouble my heart sunk. Sure, he didnt always get along with my uncle but he was always smiles and honey when talking to me. It also didn’t hurt that his two sons were constantly around my house growing up. Sam was two years older than, Dean, 6. When i found out Sam had stood up to his dad and went to Stanford I was so proud of him. I did get to hear a huge earful from Dean and John but never once did I say Sam was a terrible person for wanting to do something different from this shit life.

“Sam!” I yelled running over and hugging him. Him and Dean had showed up, a demon, Meg had kidnapped John along with the yellow-eyed bastard that killed their mom and Sam’s girlfriend.

Sam returned the hug, Dean eyed me for a while, “Well you’ve grown up” he said smiling. I rolled my eyes,

“Yeah well the last time you saw me i was 16 Dean” He smirked and Bobby called us back to reality by pointing out a symbol that could trap a demon.

“It’s called a devil’s trap. Will trap anyone of them bastards if they step foot in it.”

The gasping made us all turn our attention to Meg, the demon was gone but the woman she possessed was alive, barely, but breathing.

“I’ve been awake for some of it” she started saying as Sam and Dean were at her side. I walked over and bent down next to Dean, I grabbed her hand and held on. Dean started questioning her about where John was.

“Sunrise” was the last word she spoke, I looked at Sam, heartbroken and confused.

“Please be careful” I said hugging Sam tight. He smiled, “Always” I pulled away and looked up at him, his smile was warm but I could see the uncertainty of what they were about to do plaguing his eyes.

“Let me come with you, I’m a hell of a hunter” I said looking to my uncle for support, he smiled and nodded his head,

“Yeah she is, but sweetie you better sit this one out” I went to object when I felt Dean’s hand on my shoulder.

“Maybe when you’re older princess” He said in his cocky tone, the nickname was one he called me frequently when we were younger and it made me roll my eyes.

“Right” I said going to walk away when he pulled me in for a hug.

“It was good seeing you, try not to be a stranger after this” and there it was, my sweet innocent school-girl crush on Dean Winchester that started when I was a young girl was back….

“Bring him around would ya, I won’t even try to shoot him this time” Bobby said as his send off to the Winchester boys, I took Bobby’s large lore book from the living room and ran towards Sam.

“Hey, here take this. Hopefully it’ll do you some good okay?” I handed it to Sam and he smiled, thanking me and him and Dean walked out of the house with one last smile back at me.

Bobby looked down at me and pulled me in for a side hug, “They’ll be okay” I nodded trying to hide the tears of fear that ran down my cheeks.

#supernatural #supernatural fic #dean winchester x reader #fan fiction #dean winchester #winchester brothers #sam winchester #john winchester #castiel

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mango-ribs · 2 years

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Howdy Howdy, let me help your boredom a bit friend, I was doing a "like this post and I'll send you an ask" but didn't go through all the question ideas yet. SOOOOOOO, let me find my post-it notes... Ah, here...since you did say you like world building in your main post, I HAVE to ask. What's your favorite world that you've built? What were some of the characters in it? What were things like? Fantasy? Sci-Fi? Etc? If you can't pick a favorite tell me the one that you threw the most effort into. (Bonus Question: If I remember correctly, I saw you made a post a while ago of making a normal guy and then completely ruining him? Are you still working on that because it sounded tight!) AND have a swelltastic day, friendo!

Hi there!! :D

That is.. an AMAZING question, I don’t even know how to really answer without something that’s 204840495 miles long complete with annotations and my whole life story, but I’ll do my best! :)

My favorite world I’ve made, hmmm… I suppose I can split that into categories. One being the one I spent the most time on, one I indulge most in, one that brings me the most comfort and one that I simply enjoy the most.

Btw in each section I’ll state the name of the universe/whatever I call the world/storyline, so feel free to ask questions abt them ,,,

Here we gooo!

‘Spent most time on?’

I usually spend a couple months each on every world I make, but the longest running one I still indulge in today is probably The Misfits Universe, which I spent a total of 8 years working on, and recently ended a 5 year long roleplay in.

It’s a very special universe to me I don’t tell many people about actually, it started completely by accident where I met some friendly people on a roblox game called Misfits High and we started roleplaying normally. What started as us just doing random rp’s with characters we made up on the spot every week or so grew into a daily thing for years, expanding characters and the lore and it just became so beautiful.

It’s very very loose in plot as there are like a million different characters, what we sort of did instead of making a solid storyline we had a bunch of characters and simply roleplayed their storylines within the universe. It’s what I do with a lot of worlds actually, I find it a lot more freeing! But yeah, it’s set in an alternate reality where humans and monsters are separated from one another under the rule of a clan of gods. The characters are centered around a haunted old town that used to be human only until it was infected with a special virus and yadayadayada, it’s too much to explain LOL

It’s gotten to the point where I can tell you the creation of the universe and it’s dimensions as a whole but it has a LOOOOT of plot holes due to us making it when were so young. I’m so sad to see it go but I think it’s time I finally lay it to rest, it’s no longer interesting and has so many terrible memories attached to the past. I intend to keep using some of the characters I got from it :)

‘Most indulgent?’

That one is pretty hard to answer as lately I’ve been much more indulgent in my worlds rather than focusing on strict rules. Sort of just letting myself fuck around and do whatever I want. But my most indulgent probably has to be Kongoiro Universe, it’s essentially a universe where everything is sort of utopia like.

It’s where I sorta just dump everything I daydream about that doesn’t take place in another specific universe. It’s a place I can escape to, and pretend I live in a world where struggles are temporary. But otherwise it’s kinda boring..

‘Most comfort?’

Oooof this is a hard one. I rarely make non-comforting/angsty universes anymore for personal reasons (though soon I really wanna get back at it,) but the most comforting one I have is probablyyyy…. Magic In Threes.

Magic in Threes is a series-type thing I have in my head inspired by Chonny Jash’s songs! (hes absolutely amazing, creates covers of tally hall and changes the lyrics and god it’s amazing.) it is about a character nicknamed Soul, who are followed by incarnations of his suffering. Dark, a massive demon, represents the darkness: Depression, the mind, the past, Soul’s anger, etc. Light, an angelic being, represents the light: Hope, trickery, the heart, impulsiveness, and the future. Just because Light represents hope does not mean he is good. Both attempt to guide Soul through life and the infinite labyrinth that is his mindpalace, and overcome the struggles of living with trauma.

And I’m kinda projecting—

‘Enjoy the most?’

I don’t really know if I have one I enjoy the most, each one has their own things that make me like them and dislike them. Though one that is up there is definitely Lucraca, my take of a cyberpunk post-apocalyptic dystopia where humans have been long dead and the world is now controlled by robots (mostly object-heads.)

I have so much fun coming up with different concepts for it, it’s a wee bit cliche but its my world and I decide the dystopia Goddammit!!!! there are also a lot of AUs but they’re extremely fucked up and I won’t be getting into them rn LOL

But uH yeah,,, thank you for listening to my ramble and asking such a great question, this made me super happy!! If you guys want you can ask questions abt my universes, currently I believe I have around 71 documented and like a million more brewing up in my head. also yes I did hit the Funny Number.

*vine boom*

#mangos writing #mangos ocs #ask #mango ribs #mangos universes #Lucraca #Magic in Threes #Kongoiro Universe #The Misfits

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