A/N: So. I'm back!!!! I know my last post was almost a year ago about a fangame with Ken that was like a fever dream... And now I remembered about this account and decided that maybe I could revive it :P. Anyway, remember that my English is bad, love you guys!;
Summary: "Hey. Do you want to come with us to the bar?" Colt didn't even hope for a positive answer, but his own manners and upbringing didn't allow him to pass by. Imagine his surprise when his colleague, after a second pause, nodded.;
Words count: 2774(omg);
I feel unsure about that one, but it took me out of writing block so I wanted to show it. Hope you enjoy!
Colt himself did not expect to return to work... In fact, in this life. Was it an impulsive decision? Maybe. Would he have preferred to stay at home, estranged from all his old friends and licking his wounds? Absolutely.
It was just that one day, Colt woke up and realized that his life completely, literally, sucked. Was this what he had dreamed of so fervently as a child, spending countless hours in front of the fuzzy screen of an old TV? But at the same time, Colt didn't want to go back to his old friends, in front of whom he had almost died some time in the past... It would have been the most embarrassing situation in his career, and even in his life. Yes, even more embarrassing than the time he got the wrong film sets and acted like a child lost in a supermarket.
But at the same time, the desire to be set on fire, hit by a car, beaten to death (on screen, of course) grew more and more. Maybe he just wanted to forget his problems, his past, at least in that moment when there was only him, the props and the director's shouts in the speaker. When moral pain is washed away by physical pain.
Despite the reasons, Colt has already found a reliable job for himself. Some kind of C-category debut movie, whose stunts can only be matched by its name. Seriously, "Heavy Metal" sounded like they were making a cocktail of the Terminator and Fast and Furious at its worst. But it was exactly what Colt needed at the time. He immediately flew to picturesque Los Angeles, or rather, to the most abandoned part of it. Covering his eyes with a sleep mask and leaning back in a comfortable economy class seat (because like the movie, like the transportation), he wanted to think only about the stunts to come and the bruises they would leave.
***
Colt settled in on the set pretty quickly. From the beginning, he didn't plan to get close to any of the crew, but innocent conversations about nothing and going to the bar almost every night isn't really getting close, is it? In any case, there were some really good guys here who had never heard of the tragically sensational name "Colt Seavers," and that was to Colt's advantage. There was also one silent guy who gave Colt shivers down his spine. There was just something about this emotionless look and leather gloves that Colt had never seen before. It was like meeting a block of ice in the African desert. And he wasn't even exaggerating. But Colt had to admit that all the stunts related to cars were so easy for this guy that the old stuntman even felt a bit jealous. Nevertheless, the work was going on, they were already halfway through the final scenes, which meant the final stunts. And just at that moment, when the scenery for the third act was already set up around the perimeter, and the stunt team was already discussing a grand celebration of the end of filming, Colt realized that he hadn't gotten what he had come here for in the first place. He got hit in the face (and not only in the face), set on fire, and hit by a car (all at the same time), but the feeling of emptiness, of being broken, of being eaten up from the inside... It did not disappear. One day on the set, he heard Jody's name mentioned, and that's how he found out that she was now a debut director with the bookies' movie of the year. He thought about Jody, who had moved on from their relationship and was now building her career, her future, fulfilling her long-held dreams. And here he was, working on a godforsaken movie in the back alleys of a forgotten city of dreams. He could not think of a greater irony. But of course, Colt was genuinely happy for Jody, except that the fact that she had managed to forget the past made him even more broken than he was when he arrived here.
As he waited for the director's cue before the next trick, Colt already knew that tonight he would get drunk beyond recognition. He wasn't an alcoholic, but he didn't mind solving problems with marathons of alcoholic beverages either.
At least in this place, he had company for that, and after gathering everyone, they headed to their trusty bar right after work.
But this time, everything was a little different. Not only the fact that on this particular evening Colt had decided to drink himself into a state of habitual alcoholism, but also the fact that for some unknown reason he had stopped in front of his silent colleague. Their eyes met a moment before, when Seavers was leaving the set with his company, and suddenly something drew him in like a magnet. He was like this sometimes, gazing the other stuntman for unknown reasons. He blamed everything on curiosity.
It was as if the stuntman's lips opened on their own, saying words against his will:
"Hey... Do you want to go to a bar with us?" Colt spoke slowly and carefully, as if he was not sure that the person in front of him understood human speech.
In fact, Colt did not even hope for a positive answer. And the pause that hung between them after his offer only fueled his confidence that he would be simply rejected. Probably, it was just manners and upbringing that did not allow him to pass by, and no mysterious magnetism in the clear blue eyes of the nameless stuntman.
Imagine his surprise when his colleague nodded after this strange, long pause. And without another word, he joined their company of unhappy stuntmen on their way to the bar. To say that everyone else was also shocked would be an understatement.
But since it happened that way... Well, Colt had asked for it, so why did he feel like he'd rather not?
With these thoughts in mind, he opened the majestic wooden doors of the bar (which looked more like a tavern from a fantasy movie), revealing to his friends an unlimited paradise of alcoholic pleasures. Stepping inside, Colt's gaze once again met the nameless stuntman. He would be lying if he said he didn't think about him... from time to time. Severs was fascinated on a subconscious level by the mystery of the guy, maybe also by his hair... he just wondered how he kept it so neat when he himself was a mess.
Colt was about to take his usual place at the very center of the long bar when he noticed his silent colleague sitting at the very end. In one impulsive move, almost as impulsive as decision to work on this movie, Colt sat down on the seat next to him. At first, the nameless man did not seem visually pleased with his presence, as one could tell by his deliberately frowning face. Whether it was because he was really so silent, or because deep down he didn't really mind the company of the bigger stuntman... either way, he didn't tell Colt to get the hell out of here.
Drink after drink followed as evening followed day. Colt drank whatever he could get his hands on, stirred, shook, and drank again. First he had a headache at the thought of a future morning hangover, now he just had a headache. And the only thing you need to know about Colt if you're going to get drunk with him is that alcohol works on him in the most banal way - it loosens his tongue and makes him an even bigger idiot than he already is. And this time, a silent stuntman became his victim.
Everything was quiet, they didn't touch each other and seemed to have forgotten about each other's existence for a moment. Until Seavers decided to turn his face, red from the amount of drinks he had drunk, to his neighbor and ask him something that had been on his mind for an annoyingly long time:
"How do you..." Colt made incomprehensible gestures above his head. And this action could not but attract the attention of the machine stuntman. "How do you keep your hair like that?"
Colt spoke extremely slurred and quietly, and if it weren't for the short distance between him and the other stuntman, he wouldn't have caught his mumbling over the noise and music of the crowded place. And honestly? He would have been better off not hearing anything.
Hesitating whether to pretend that he didn't hear the question or to please this stranger with his answer, the young man suddenly chose, unexpectedly even for himself...
"Like what?" ...to answer in a monotone tone, not even caring if the words would reach the other person through the background noise.
"So beautiful." Answer followed almost immediately after the question. Without even a slight hesitation.
Well... Colt really thought his hair was beautiful, is that a crime?
But the expression on the silent stuntman's face screamed "are you an idiot?" so unbearably that Colt couldn't stand it and turned away from him.
It was obvious that the conversation was not going well.
But that was not the end. There was one more moment that seemed simply impossible in light of recent events, but it happened.... Colt's neighbor exhaled heavily and muttered a sluggish:
"I take care of it."
Colt nodded, staring stupidly at the man across from him. As if he'd just seen an alien, by God. But no, it was just the effect of the added joy of a successful conversation and the degree of alcohol.
And, of course, Colt didn't realize what he was doing. Perhaps his instincts to talk with everything around him (in this case, his unfortunate colleague) as soon as his body crossed the threshold of the bar were awakened.
After a few more drinks, when Colt's head became physically heavy and he had to bang it against the bar (either it was his imagination or there was a crack in the table after that), Seavers decided to open his mouth one more time:
"You know..." Even in his state of intoxication, Colt realized how pathetic his mumbling voice sounded. "You're good. I don't know you, but you're good."
Another thing you should learn before agreeing to get drunk with Colt Seavers is that you can never tell if he's telling the truth under the influence of alcohol or if he's making up some nonsense under the influence of alcohol.
Colt's neighbor seemed to completely ignore his feeble attempts to find a common theme. Perhaps it was for the best...
But still, what could stop a drunken adult with a complete mess in both his head and his life from talking to a semi-stranger one more time?
"Why are you still here?" a logical question, since all his colleagues have already left, having more important things to do than drown their sorrows.
For a second, the scorpion-jacketed stuntman looked surprised by this question, but then shrugged without looking up from the suspicious substance in his hands. He had no idea what he was doing in the middle of the night in unknown bar next to his unfamiliar colleague. He was probably just bored.
Colt nodded almost in understanding, his eyes fixed on the other man's face the entire time. Was he delusional, or was there a strange connection between them? A bond between two lonely men in the middle of a raucous bar, unable to strike up a conversation but exchanging quiet glances.
Colt didn't drink again that night, but instead began to examine this random companion more closely. They were similar in some ways, in fact, but Colt's attention was drawn more to the small things about him that he had previously ignored. For example, the toothpick that had been dangling from the corner of his mouth for the entire evening. Or how mesmerizingly long his eyelashes were...
"You're a damn good stuntman..." A sharp compliment broke the silence between them. Colt did not give up trying to squeeze a word out of this stuntman. And this time he succeeded.
"Thank you." It was fabulous, as unexpected as the look in those clear blue eyes that followed.
It was like a game, where Colt's prize was to get an answer from the mysterious man.
"Do you want a toothpick?" was another unspoken gesture to which Colt nodded uncertainly. How was he to know that giving someone a thin piece of wood meant the highest peak of respect from this guy...
The younger stuntman couldn't help but wonder how he could still tolerate Colt's behavior. he slid his gaze over the broad features of the man's face as if that would give him an answer. He wasn't usually this friendly, but that little voice in his head was making him behave politely around Seavers, just as it had made him stare at the newly recruited stuntman longer than he should have.
Now Colt also had a toothpick sticking out of his mouth, which he was chewing on, thinking how dignified he was acting for someone who seem to be passing out from the amount of alcohol in his blood. Which meant it was time to do something horrible and shameful to end this party on the right note.
"Didn't I tell you you had nice hair?" Colt muttered,
Is Colt hallucinating or did the other stuntman smile with the tip of his mouth at this question?
But that still wasn't awkward enough, so he started whining. Alcohol is a good excuse to blame your problems on someone else, right?
"Y'know... I was, like, successful..." And then Colt began to tell his story from the beginning of the incident. He remembers the details of that day and the day that followed with the utmost precision, leading up to this moment. To this point in his life, where he was making friends with by telling his private tragedies.
The other stuntman seemed to be drawn into the conversation, even though he hadn't said a word the whole time. He was a good listener, that's for sure.
"Jody, she..." Colt's face twisted, not in contempt, but more in the pain of realizing the enormity of what he had done.
He didn't even need to finish his sentence, it was already clear that he had ruined his life.
Seavers tilted his head back, gazing up at the ceiling with its characteristically dimmed lamps, probably contemplating the meaning of his existence.
And what about his colleague? He sat silently, somewhat puzzled by the sincerity of a man with whom he had never expected to speak. And normally he would have sat there, not worrying about someone else's complicated fate. What was different this time? Perhaps the compliments on his hair had made enough of an impression on him to make him feel a little compassionate.
And without knowing any better, he cleared his throat and spoke, as if he hoped in the depths of his soul that he wouldn't hear him:
"Do you want a ride?"
Colt didn't even flinch at this question, although a few minutes ago he would have been pleased by such friendliness from his new acquaintance. He was too exhausted to even register the question in his mind. Without moving, he purred in agreement.
The stuntmen began to get up from the bar, and Seavers's gut told him that he was in for a painful betrayal of his own legs. Standing up from the chair he had almost grown to over the past few hours, his limbs immediately buckled and, stumbling around in them, he came perilously close to falling face first. Until he was picked up by his friend (who didn't really look happy about the situation he had gotten himself into).
Now it so happened that this little-known man was the only one in this place to whom he suddenly decided to open up. And who now knew the real and tragic Colt Seavers. What a strange turn of events.
"How much did you drink?" Colt muttered in confusion, leaning closer to the man who had become his literal support.
"Not much."
For some reason, this made Colt giggle, as if the voice of another stuntmam tickled him.
They made their way to an inconspicuous car in a simple parking lot near the movie set. What a blessing that it was only a few unsteady steps from the bar to the place.
I was inspired by one post with a visual novel element with Noah from @uncleclam (thanks them for that lol)
Description: you are a regular Matel employee who has been sent to Barbieland to control the Kens behavior. Well, one particular Ken. And it looks like it's not all sunshine in plastic land... Will you be able to handle Ken so that he doesn't go back to the patriarchy?
Time (very approximate): 40 minutes;
Languages: english and ukrainian;
The game has two endings - good and bad (+bonus). In the bad ending, you obviously fail your task and Ken again takes the side of patriarchal ideals.
P.S. I'm well aware that VNs usually have full-length pictures of characters, but I haven't held a pencil since elementary school, so I deliberately decided to crop them so that players' eyes wouldn't bleed from what they saw
You can download it on itch for pc (android and ios would be available soon)
Also expect tons of text about production hell in my next post :)
are you still making requests for ryan gosling characters? Cause I have a request for Luke and Dan dunne, I really have a soft spot for those two. Maybe Luke meets a reader who works as a waitress, and they get all flirty with each other
Thanks for the request <33 really, these two are totally deserve a special spot
Flirting Luke and gn!Reader
Gif by @crazy-about-ryan
A/N: Next post will be about Dan because I'm having a sudden creative epiphany lol;
Summary: "Come back again" is not the only thing a waiter can say to an attractive customer;
Word count: 609 words;
Btw, my requests are still open!
"Coffee and a bacon sandwich. A very extraordinary choice."
The customer looks up at you as if he have just learned that humans can talk.
"Hmm. I guess."
Having received an equally extraordinary answer, you hurriedly smiled and turned around in the opposite direction from the visitor, while simultaneously managing to reprimand yourself for your own stupidity. Seriously? "A very extraordinary choice"? My God, when did you forget how to flirt (or maybe you never even knew how to flirt)?
And this embarrassment only multiplied when, after those words, you also had to take the order to him.
"I'm Luke, by the way. I hope that's extraordinary enough for you."
You sighed, but rather in a calm manner. Phew, the main thing is that this man is not offended or anything like that.
"I'm Y/N." A relaxed smile bloomed on your face, but your tongue took over again. Of course, it had only been a few minutes since the last time. "And, in fact, the only thing extraordinary about you is your biker clothes."
You could see a truly fascinating picture of a slight smile touching his handsome face and him trying to hide it behind a cup of coffee.
"In fact, the only thing in you is your waiter's uniform. It suits you. In a very extraordinary way."
This phrase made you chuckle into your fist, which defused the atmosphere between you and Luke in a strange way. In a very extraordinary way.
"Oh, you know, I look good in a lot of different uniforms, in fact." You leaned against Luke's desk, moving closer to his still pleasantly smiling face. "I could even show you." You gave him a playful wink, and it was like the last straw. Luke couldn't help but giggle quietly, still trying to hide his too obvious mirth behind that cup.
"Ah... then I'm looking forward to that moment."
Your uncontrollable laughter quickly joined Luke's in unison.
It was supposed to be a romantic and private flirtation between strangers, but instead you looked like two fools who couldn't control their emotions in the middle of the day in a café.
And, honestly, that's even better than any seductive flirt you could have imagined.
Especially with this particular client. Luke. You wonder if it would be inappropriate to ask him out right now. Although, you've already said even more explicit things to him in public, so you both have no choice now.
When you finally wiped away the last tear of your laughter and looked directly into Luke's bright, cheerful eyes, you felt a kind of inexplicable confidence.
You opened your mouth to ask a decisive question, not even realizing that Luke had done exactly the same thing…
"Will you go on a date with me?"
You blinked. Did you hear Luke ask the same question in a chorus with you?
Well, judging by another fit of laughter from him, it was.
"Hmm, so... so you agree?"
You looked at Luke with mock thoughtfulness, whose tone became just a little worried as he seemed to consider the possibility of a no. But he had absolutely nothing to worry about. After all, you knew your exact answer the moment you saw his blond, disheveled hair in the doorway of the café.
"Sure."
Luke's relieved look made you admire him for one more beautiful moment before your angry coworkers surrounded you and dragged you back to your boring job. But that's okay, because you managed to shout after him: "Tomorrow at the cafe?" and get his confident nod.
Heyo! (this is the anon who requested the Richard fic)
Sorry to be responding late, but I just read this and it was genuinely great! First of all, thank you for even writing and secondly, I think you actually got his character pretty well. But then again, it doesn't really matter- everyone has their own different version of a character. But yours was definitely very similar to my vision. The mockery, despite this being a best-friend relationship, being quick to prove himself when challenged. I do not think you went too sick LOL. It fits a guy like him. Also I just really like the setting being a game center for some reason. Perhaps because it reminds me that the characters are just teenagers, which is a fact that gets hard to recall in the movie sometimes. But I do feel like their interaction doesn't necessarily indicate that they've known each other for years. For instance, Richard and Justin have this sort of playfulness to their talk, which maybe would have worked here? I don't know. And I also can't really tell if Richard actually likes the reader or hates them, BUT THEN AGAIN, that is very much Richard-like LOL.
I absolutely loved reading this though, and once again, thank you so much for writing for him! I think you may officially be the first person to do so lmao.
So, first of all, thank you so much for writing all this for me, it's really a first and just that you took the time to do it!!
And now to the point.
You're right, everyone has their own opinion about the character, but I'm really glad that mine was at least a little bit in line with yours.
And yes, this thing with the game center just appeared in my head, I don't even know why or where it came from…
Idk how to describe Richard's friendship with someone other than Justin, like, they literally PLANED THE MURDER together, how could Richard be friends with someone like the Reader?? I'm still confused lol
hey could you write something for Richard Haywood? perhaps a best friends to lovers trope? It would be interesting to see how that would work with a character like Richard
sorry, I thought I wouldn't be too sick but as you can see…
Richard Haywood and gn!Reader as friends to lovers story
Gif by @nikolajwaldau
A/N: Richard is one of my favs actually, but I feel like I got his character a little wrong (tbh I do it with most of my fics) so I just wanted to ask you to point out my mistakes in that regard, because I I don't want to go too far into OOC :")
Summary: At some point, your dear friend Richard became… too tactile?;
Word count: 942 words;
I hope this is what you asked for!
So you had one close friend. A very strange close friend. Although, after so many years together, you have become absolutely accustomed to all the nuances and contradictions of his exotic character.
But lately, there has been something in his behavior that even your trained, hardened mind could not comprehend. Richard has become more tactile.
Well, he used to be able to grab your shoulder out of the blue, hold your hands, and even run his hand through your hair. But at some turning point, he became extremely tactile. That is, now he grabbed your shoulder more firmly, held your hands longer, and even ran his hand through your hair in a less friendly way.
And this could not but confuse you. On top of that, his eyes were becoming more and more cunning with every walk after school. And you, as his friend, knew perfectly well that this would definitely not end well.
So, it was absolutely logical that you decided to do something about this tense situation.
'You became a bit too tactile.'
The only thing that was not absolutely logical in this tense situation was why you asked such a direct question! But the words were already out of your mouth, and there was nothing you could do about it. Fortunately or unfortunately.
'What?'
The angry look of Richard, who had just been interrupted from a very important game machine in the gaming center, turned sharply to you.
You had to swallow hard before starting again:
'Well, you started... touching me more, you know?'
You were sure he would understand. As long as it was in the right way.
'And?' Richard looked at you intently (though more like stared) and began one of his favorite things: gesturing and contorting you. 'Does this give you some new hope?'
His last words were cut short by his amused giggle.
You lowered your head, only not to see your "best friend's" raised eyebrows in derision.
'No! No... You don't understand. I just wanted to say that you are a very tactile person, Richard. That's all.'
'Pfft. "Tactility" and "non-tactility" were invented by losers who are too scared to go up and touch another person.'
'Uh-huh. I see.'
After all these years of friendship, you've long since given up arguing with Richard, so you didn't try this time. But still...
'So you can go up to any person and just touch them?'
'Well, yes.'
'But you still don't touch them as much as you touch me.'
You honestly don't know why you're saying all this. You're just happy to stop, but your mouth refused to shut!
It seems that this statement was so powerful that you even managed to surprise Richard! At least, you hoped that his wry sneer and wide-eyed amusement would indicate that.
'I don't touch them too much, because they're not my friends.' You felt as if Richard's mouth had been cut open with a butter knife. Oh, no, he's just smiling. 'Or did you want to hear something else?'
This time there was no laughter. And that was a bad sign, really. A very, very bad sign.
'No, thank you, I heard everything I wanted to hear.' You hurriedly turned around and pretended to be completely devoted to some nearby game machine. After all, it seems that your "close friend" has begun to get closer and closer. In the physical sense of the word.
'Come on, I'm telling the truth,' Richard moved closer to you, whispering in his sly, quirky voice right into your ear.
You cautiously turned to him, just to look him in the eye, but instead you saw his open lips reaching out to you, and his closed eyelids fluttering slightly. You froze there, half-turned to your friend, your gaze blurred, your limbs numb, and eagerly awaiting what would happen next...
'Ha-ha-ha!'
All you could do at that moment was to gape in confusion. And you couldn't be blamed for that, because when Richard pushed away from you as if you were a wall he had almost run into by accident and started giggling, clutching his stomach... Well, the human body is not capable of any other reaction than "gape in confusion".
'Did you really think I was going to kiss you?' Richard didn't stop laughing for a moment, having already begun to wipe the tears of laughter from his eyes. 'Oh, no, no, no, wait, ha-ha-ha... I-I, ha-ha, have to, uh, catch my breath... Ha-ha-ha-ha!'
Finally, your shocked brain has processed all the information that came along with Richard's hoarse laughter. And it did not like this information at all. So now you were blushing. You were blushing with pure anger.
'What, you're not tactile enough for a kiss anymore? "Too scared"?'
Richard, still breathing heavily after his hilarious stunt, held his head high. Slowly, even hints of his former mirth began to disappear from his face. And you didn't know whether this was the reaction you were trying to get with your words or the opposite.
'"Too scared"? You're so sure about that, huh?' It sounds like he was really angry. Well, at least you assumed so when he grabbed you painfully by the jaw, pulling you closer to his angry face, with his teeth clenched tightly and crooked lips. The last thing you remember clearly is the pressure of someone else's lips on yours. And the last conscious thought was just the realization that nothing would be the same. Fortunately or unfortunately. And the last conscious thought was just the realization that nothing would be the same. Fortunately or unfortunately.
A/N: I don't know the exact reasons but when I write about this man I have so much fun (so I'll keep doing it);
Summary: Dan proposes to you. In the middle of your lesson, actually.
Word count: 353 words;
Thanks for request!
It was supposed to be the most ordinary, unremarkable working day at school. The key word is supposed. Because after your boyfriend, with flowers at his side, a box in his hand, and on one knee, shouted 'Will you marry me?' under your classroom window, it could hardly be described as ordinary or unremarkable.
And while the whole class crowded around the window, and you hid your face with a cheerful smile and a deep blush in your hands, Dan waited patiently. Although, to be honest, his knee was already hurting from standing in the classic proposal pose for so long.
'Ahem, ahem' Dan stirred a little, because his limbs would have given out, and looked up and down at you hopefully, 'I'm not pushing it, of course, but... Um, will you marry me?'
Every student in the office turned to you while your hands seemed to be stuck to your face. Well, you were simply not allowed to show up with such a look on your face as a teacher!
Although any teacher's etiquette was long forgotten when Dan proposed to you in the middle of class.
'Ha-ha, my body's already hurting, you know' indeed, Dan had to get up from his knee, but his gaze remained fixed in one direction - to you. And so did his tired but hopeful smile. He sincerely believed that he would receive an exceptionally positive answer (although with every moment of silence, he was overcome with a touch of conscience). 'I'm starting to worry.'
He shrugged awkwardly, still holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers under his arm and, of course, never letting go of the box with the fateful ring. And then, you finally dared to open your palms to meet that devoted-looking Dan in the schoolyard. The students whispered among themselves, especially as you ran full speed down the stairs to your waiting boyfriend.
You ran out into the street, but you didn't stop there, running straight into Dan's open arms with a smile on your face. You fell into his arms, whispering softly in his ear:
'Yes.'
You were hugged as tightly as you never thought possible.
A/N: I'm sick and currently on sick leave, which can only mean one thing: a Ryan's movie rewatch marathon (and more fics)!
Summary: Your neighbor Noah wakes you up every morning. And this morning seems to be no exception.
Word count: 559 words;
I'm also accepting reqs rn!
Mornings in your town started differently for everyone. Some people got up with the first birdsong of their own free will, others were forced to do so, and still others were greeted by a real earthquake with every sunrise. Or a hurricane trapped in a human body.
'Get up!' your ear has been mercilessly terrorized since the morning. 'Do you really want me to do this?'
You tried to jump up and prevent the inevitable, but it was too late... Noah jumped into your bed in one jerk. Which, in fact, was a single bed.
'Noah...' You stirred sleepily as your neighbor began to jump on the mattress very diligently. So much so that you could only dream about sleep.
'It's not my fault!' He leaned over you and laughed right into your ear. Still rocking the bed.
'Uh-oh... Just a minute more...'
Your brain was working in the morning... In fact, in the morning it refused to function at all, and your whole being had only one single goal at this time of day - to sleep a little more. However, Noah was absolutely not satisfied with this arrangement. How could you exchange your joint plans to go to the lake for some insignificant nap?
'Don't make me...'
A moment after these words, and Noah purposefully fell on you. Literally. You sank under his weight, tangled in a pile of blankets.
'What, you want to get up now?' He said sarcastically, kept grinning from ear to ear, even as he slid his arms under you, hugging you tightly. Although, in fact, it was all just a cleverly planned trap. 'You had to think before!'
After a few more (completely futile) attempts to get out from under Noah, you had to surrender to the victor. But with a sincere smile. After all, no matter how annoyed, angry, tired, and all at the same time, you couldn't help but smile when you looked at Noah's cheerful face. So close to your own.
His warm breath tickled your ear, his arms were still frozen under your back, holding you in place, and his legs somehow managed to intertwine with yours. And you could not do anything about it. You didn't even want to.
You closed your eyes in the hope that you could get a few more seconds of peaceful rest while Noah seemed to have dropped his guard. But, of course, that was too much of a luxury.
'Ha!' Noah reacted the moment your eyelids closed. He shook his hands, causing the entire bed to jump, and loomed over you with a wide, smug smile. All you could do was sigh in disappointment. 'Thought you could get away with it, huh?'
And then he began his favorite part of the morning. Noah put his head in the crook of your shoulder and began to wiggle his nose, tickling you terribly! You couldn't stop laughing, completely forgetting even about the possibility of sleep. Especially when his grown strands of hair fell on your neck, unbearably tickling.
After a while, you finally got up, with tears of laughter in your eyes and a smile on your face. Later on, Noah would have a whole lecture about respecting private space and understanding the concept of a sleep schedule, but for now, he could enjoy your cheerful appearance and laugh together. Just like every morning.
First meeting of gn!Reader and Dan (photoshoot included)
Gif by @gargoyles42
A/N: this is so short and silly but I love Dan so much, sorry 😭😭
Summary: gn!Reader takes pictures of Dan behind his back. But Dan notices anyway, so…
Word count: 450 words;
Half Nelson is just a must-watch movie btw!
You were a sports photographer specializing in school tournaments (because nothing else of note can happen in this town). Although no one wouldn't know it from your photos. Well, what could you do with yourself if the coach of this school's women's basketball team is the most photogenic (and incredibly handsome) creature you've ever met? Your professionalism as a photographer simply demanded that you capture his every graceful movement!
'Are you taking a picture of me?'
Your hands shuddered, almost dropping the camera to the gym floor. You must have gotten the wrong idea that the man whose photographs hang in front of your desk at home was talking directly to you. It simply couldn't be!
But to make sure of this one hundred and one percent, you cautiously looked out from behind the camera and suddenly met your eyes with the coach. It's true. Your finger has already pressed the flash on automatic to catch this really rare shot of Dan looking directly into the lens.
'Sorry...'
Of course, having a camera, you had to know the etiquette of every photographer, whose first commandment literally reads: 'Do not photograph people without their permission'. But this did not stop you anyway. At least you had the opportunity to apologize...
You expected a well-deserved public shaming, or at least a lecture on primitive concepts of human morality, but instead you got... A gentle smile on Dan's serene face? You blinked in shock.
'Pfft, why? I'm part of the team in a way, so it's only logical that you should take my picture.' He arched an eyebrow, still looking you straight in the eye, which made you unable to relax. 'If you want, I could even pose for you, haha.'
If the first time you still found the strength to hold the camera in your hands, now you were really dangerously close to breaking a few hundred dollars over one (not so) innocent phrase.
But it was too early for your lens to break, because Dan was striking his most intricate poses in front of you. And until you've taken as many photos as this digital machine in your palms can take, you won't let it go.
And you could have sworn this photo shoot would have gone on forever if Dan hadn't been called away by his students for some urgent coaching business. Perhaps it was for the best, because the camera screen had been flashing an annoying warning about the lack of memory for a long time.
'You'll have to show them to me later!'
You only had time to nod before Dan went back to his duties. You smiled to yourself, already imagining how you would show these wonderful photos.
A/N: I seem to be the type of writer who goes on tumblr once a month, posts something from drafts, and then goes back into the shadows. well, that's my role…
Summary: Ken makes a sudden (but very pleasant) gift to the gn!Reader;
Word count: 660 words;
Hope you like it!
Over the past week, something very strange has been happening in Barbieland. Not only did you barely see Ken, but when you did get a chance to say hello, he seemed to evaporate (or ducked into the first pile of fallen autumn leaves he could find, just to avoid meeting you). Before that, you literally woke up facing each other. Now, however, you get up with an empty space on the bed next to you. And it wasn't so much confusing as it was frightening. If Ken has once again come up with a (necessarily ridiculous) reason to avoid you, then you just have to talk to him immediately! But how can you do that if as soon as you make eye contact with him, he runs to hide behind the nearest corner? Your sincerely human soul simply could not find a place for itself.
And so it would have continued, if suddenly at the end of the week, Ken himself had not dared to approach you. With his hands behind his back, his lower lip bit and his eyes on you intently.
"Ken..." You knew that in a situation like this you shouldn't rush and provoke, so you remained motionless in your seat in the middle of the bed, as if trying not to scare a wild animal.
Ken began to roll from heel to toe, watching you with a keen, studying gaze.
"Ken, what's wrong?" Perhaps if you hadn't been abruptly pulled out of a sweet, lingering sleep by your sometimes-disappearing boyfriend, you would have suspected something was wrong with his hands behind his back. But you were abruptly pulled out of a sweet, lingering sleep by your sometimes-disappearing boyfriend, so...
"I-I did something for you..."
You shook your head in confusion, shaking off the remnants of sleep. Ken?.. Did something?..
Ken's hands held out a neatly tied package in your face. As far as your sleepy eyes could make out, everything else in the package, including the gift paper and several tones of glitter, was just as perfect. And even after sleeping, you could see how much effort this present had been put in.
"Oh, Ken, is this for me?"
As soon as you took the gift from Ken's hands, he put them back behind his back. And you could have sworn that he was fidgeting with his fingers in anticipation.
"Yeah. I've never done anything like this before, so..." Ken was terribly nervous, but he shouldn't have been, because whatever the contents of this bundle were, you would have loved it beyond belief.
Ken was watching your every move, instantly reading your every reaction, and when you carefully untied the ribbon and opened the package, he couldn't help but lick his lips several times eagerly.
When you opened the package, you put it on display... A handmade scarf?
You smiled gently.
"Is that why you've been running away from me for a week?"
Ken blinked at you in surprise, as if he thought that his constant running away from you had gone unnoticed.
"I was afraid I wouldn't be able to resist telling you everything!"
You chuckled lightly, looking back down at the scarf. You couldn't get enough of your boyfriend's hard work!
Ken's smile slowly grew on his face as he realized that you were really happy with his gift. You could see the tension slowly falling from his shoulders and he was relaxing himself, as if after a whole week of hard work. Perhaps it was true.
You, still smiling, immediately wrapped your gift around your neck.
"I read on the Internet that people can feel unwell at this time of year and that scarves help them... somehow."
"They do, Ken, they do."
You stand up to thank Ken with a gentle kiss on the cheek. The long autumn is ahead, and something told you that from now on you will not spend a single day of it without the warmth of a scarf.
A/N: just need to write this stupid trite thing for my mental stability;
Summary: You'd been in a relationship with Ken for a while (an incredibly long time for a couple who hadn't even kissed yet);
Word count: 449;
Nice reading!
You couldn't shake the feeling that Ken wanted to kiss you. He was always somehow getting dangerously close to you (especially your lips), his eyes were the most needy of all possible, and something told you that there must have been a good reason for that. Only his behavior could be worse. Seriously, it was like he was seducing you without even knowing what that meant!
You'd been in a relationship with Ken for a while (an incredibly long time for a couple who hadn't even kissed yet), so maybe this was normal. However, how could you know exactly what Ken wanted if he never really discussed it with you! More precisely, he discussed an impossibly large amount, but always off-topic (or he just thought that horses, the beach, and cowboys were the only topics for discussion).
In conclusion, you had never kissed Ken. And as a native of the Real World, you were experiencing cultural dissonance. So, you have never, not even once, kissed each other on the lips. And this could not but confuse your sincerely human soul.
Well, it seems that the only way out of this unfortunate problem was to solve it immediately.
"Ken, do you mind if we kiss?"
"What?"
Okay, maybe that was a little too immediately. But what could you do about it? Your emotions were unstoppable.
Ken was staring at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. Like he was seeing an angel in human form for the first time. His round eyes seemed about to burst into tears of surprise.
"Kiss?.."
But there was still the possibility that he was just hearing things. That his uncontrollable mind had finally brought its madness to an epic climax.
"Yes, Ken, k-i-s-s. If you want to."
Watching Ken's confusion, the thought crept into your head that he either didn't want to touch anyone else with his delicate lips at all, or he wanted it too much.
"I never thought you would say that..."
And you, of course, were only too happy to surprise him, but it was impossible to deduce any specific permission or refusal from his answer. Again!
Even Ken seemed to notice a shadow of irritation on your face, so he stood up from his seat and looked into your equally embarrassed eyes.
"And you didn't mind?"
"Of course not. We're dating, aren't we?"
You were worried that Ken might not have realized that you had been in a relationship for a while.
"Yeah..." It was obvious from Ken's face that hearing you say "dating" out loud only made his smile wider. "Can we do it here?"
Okay, now things were getting clearer and you were excited. Ken was nervously looking back at the empty plastic shore of the plastic sea, constantly licking his lips, and his body was lurching forward, as if he was ready to pounce on you and your unprotected lips at any moment.
"I think so, yes."
In fact, you had no idea. Perhaps in this area there were penalties for such a thing, but there were two reasons why you didn't care: first, you were about to have your first kiss with your lover; second, there was no money in Barbieland, so penalties were impossible here, in human terms.
Ken's look was... frightened? But you couldn't realize why.
"I had never done this before. Not even with Barbie."
He whispered barely audibly with one lip, as if it were the worst secret of his life. Maybe it was.
Honestly, it never surprised you. It so happened that you assumed a similar scenario. And it was far from the worst.
"It's okay, Ken," you said with all the gentleness, tenderness, and love in your fateful words, "If you want to, we can try. But if you don't, it's alright, okay? I..."
"No!" Ken abruptly stepped over you and grabbed your shoulders as if you were going to run away from him (which you would never, ever do). His eyes darted over your face, and a smile came and went, his tongue flicking across his lips. "No... Please, I want this."
He leaned toward you, closed his eyes, and folded his neat lips into a tube. Apparently, this was the only thing he knew about the kissing process. You held your impolite laughter as best you could as Ken half-opened one of his eyes, peeking eagerly.
Well, the moment had arrived. You both stepped forward, closing the distance between your faces. Ken immediately closed his eyes tightly. Only when you were ready to place your lips on his did you realize that his hands were rubbing your shoulders excitedly. With a final smile at this perfect moment, you made one last push toward the desired sensation.
When your lips finally touched, a muffled, shocked sound escaped Ken. He squeezed his eyelids together with all his might, thinking that this was some kind of kissing etiquette. As usual, his ideas were far from reality. But still so cute.
Suddenly you were pushed closer and closer by the shoulders, and Ken deepened the kiss. And it was then that you realized that no amount of inexperience could stop Ken and his desires. Why you didn't mind at all.
i noticed your fics are mainly fluff, but maybe you could do a fic where the reader tries to talk ken out of brainwashing the barbies and fails. if not thats fine ofc! id just like to see a fic of ken in his faux mink coat era
not sure if this is what you wanted but at least i tried :")
gn!Reader begs Ken not to brainwash dolls. Ken doesn't listen.
Gif by @selinas
A/N: So, since we have a gn!Reader here, while (!spoiler! I guess?) they still want to brainwash the reader (bcs I wanted to), let's just assume that Ken brainwashed everyone who didn't obeyed him, okay? Thanks!
Summary: You no longer felt safe in this place.
Word count: 449 words;
You also can request if you want to!
"Ken, why are you doing this?"
A lump of pent-up emotion clamped down on your throat as Ken's eyes with madness burning in them looked into your own.
"Don't you understand?" His voice was unfamiliar to you. It was not the carefree and cheerful voice that greeted you on the beach every morning or told you about all sorts of trivia every evening. This voice gives you sensation under your skin. Like cold bites. "Now Barbies love us. Now everyone can be happy!"
You have already had a chance to observe the new "happy" world. But the smiling yet emotionless faces of the Barbies made you anxious. Your heartbeat jumped every time their soulless gazes followed you.
You no longer felt safe in this place.
While each doll seemed to be watching you while you slept.
While a thousand watchful invisible eyes cut into your back as you walked through the city.
While Ken's voice was full of crazy conviction, you couldn't call yourself or this place "happy".
You were one of the last dolls whose brains had not yet been penetrated by the new order of Kenland. Or the last. You didn't know. Anyone who tried to stop it, sooner or later disappeared.
You begged Ken to stop. You knelt down as he emptied doll after doll, as if they were worthless except to mindlessly wander under Ken's complete control.
You sobbed like no doll knew they could as your friends lost themselves one by one. Instead, new, perfect servants appeared. Always emotionlessly smiling, new, perfect servants.
But Ken wasn't listening. Something about his disdainful look frightened you to such an extent that you even involuntarily wondered if he was planning to do the same to you. But he couldn't! He couldn't take away the most precious thing that remained of Barbieland - the memories of it. Or could he?
Ken was the person closest to you. Until something in him changed. Or was it always there, and you didn't even realize it? And when he told you about his day, stretched out next to you on the sun-warmed beach, did he secretly want to force you to obey him against your will? Not you. He could not.
"You will be happy too!"
Weren't you happy before?
You didn't know anymore.
Something switched in your mind and you could not remember where the question came from.
You were going to be saved.
But you did not understand: from what? Is there anything dangerous about bringing your Ken drinks? You were happy. You were happy to do this and many other different things for your Ken. What do you need to be saved from? You have never smiled so much.
gn!Reader and Luke agree to quit smoking (at least one of them)
A/N: I know it's weird but god look how many cigarettes he smoked in the whole movie I can't he need to take care of himself he's our husband after all 😭😭
Summary: gn!Reader makes a deal with Luke that they will quit smoking. But it looks like Luke has found a way around the rules…
Word count: 759 words;
⚠️ Warning ⚠️: as you might have noticed, there are quite a few references to smoking, but if you okay with it - go on!
Take care of yourself!
'You know, you need to stop smoking.' You turned to Luke as if you were seeing him for the first time. Still, it was strange to hear such words in the smoking room and from a man who was burning a cigarette between his lips at that very moment. 'It's bad for health'
As far as you know: Luke had never thought about the health hazards of smoking until you started to take up the habit yourself. And that was a little unfair. If you have to take care of yourself, it's better to take your boyfriend with you.
'I'll stop.' Your gaze grew more sarcastic as Luke smiled at you naively. But you still had something to add. 'Right after you.'
Your boyfriend raised his eyebrows and looked sadly at the burning cigare clutched between his fingers. With the most crushing exhalation possible, he threw it to the ground. As he should have done a long time ago, actually.
Of course, your health was more important to him than some tobacco smoke. He will manage, for your sake! Or at least he will try very, very hard.
***
And Luke did try hard. He tried very hard to avoid your eyes while he smoked. And for a while, he even managed to wrap you around his finger, riding his motorcycle into the most desolate corners of the city, when the desire to feel the smoke in his lungs became stronger than any agreements and arrangements. Perhaps he would have continued to outsmart you if one day he hadn't become too safe and decided to carelessly smoke one innocent cigar on the balcony of your house. What could have happened? You were sleeping soundly, so there was nothing to stop Luke's nefarious schemes from going ahead as planned.
At least, that's what he thought.
Until the balcony door behind him creaked.
'Luke...'
All Luke could do was to stare in confusion as your not at all sleepy figure stood in the doorway. That is, your absolutely furious figure.
Of course, you knew that Luke was not honoring your important agreement, but you didn't want to believe it completely...
He hadn't even bothered to throw the cigar away, even after your threatening look! You were outraged by this. So, in the end, you just couldn't leave your boyfriend alone after what you just saw.
After exhaling a frustrated breath, you walked closer to the lightly relaxed Luke, forcing him to back away a few steps until his back was against the balcony railing.
And Luke just smiled guiltily, even though he knew perfectly well that smiling in this situation was life-threatening. But what could he do with himself? Watching your irritated face was one of his favorite things to do.
And when there was only the distance of a smoldering cigarette between your faces, you slyly laughed and moved closer.
- If you broke the rules, then I can do it too, right?
Your fingers deftly snatched the cigarette from Luke's relaxed lips and brought it to your own mouth. Luke's brow furrowed, but he didn't argue with you. And he was right to do so, because at that moment you had the upper hand. Right?
He gently stared at his cigar clamped between your lips, occasionally looking up at you. And something in his gentle eyes made you shudder involuntarily. Luke knew exactly what he was doing, and this became especially clear when he gently took the butt from you and leaned closer.
The cigare flew away in an instant, and Luke's eyes, even if you refused to admit it, held you in place.
He didn't say anything, because you could have realized without any further ado what was going to happen the moment Luke's warm breath touched your lips. Something told you that he was trying to distract you from the fact that he had just broken the terms of your agreement. However, you could not stop him from fooling around with you as his lips slowly descended on yours. You certainly could not stop him when one of his hands gently wrapped around your weist and the other lovely touched your cheek.
You could sense the obvious trickery in his actions, but your boyfriend forgot to take into account one important thing: you could be sneaky, too. And when this mind-blowing kiss is over and Luke is drawn to cigarettes again, he will be out of luck. By then, you'll be ready to catch him in the act again and bravely prevent his lungs from being damaged (and end it with another kiss)!
P.S. I have a picture of Luke on my wall and he was staring at me while I was writing this… I finally lost my conscience…
Ken is jealous of gn!Reader (but for absolutely no reason)
Gif by @chriswevans
A/N: Dear anons, I am ofc a lazy asshole, but sooner or later I will answer every request, I promise (if I don't, you can burn me in hell);
Summary: gn!Reader interacts with the Other Ken, unaware of the destructive effect it has on Ken. So destructive that he even tore his bandana (but almost immediately sewed it back on)!
Word count: 711 words;
Enjoy!
Ken was very angry. Ken was very, very angry, irritated, furious and hurt. The whole world had suddenly become one big pile of injustice, betrayal and dishonour. Except for the horses, of course.
Every few minutes he sighed sorrowfully, and every few seconds he remembered you and held back angry tears. How could you talk to Another Ken when you already had one? Ken irratable kicked the sand with his foot, but missed and nearly fell backwards. This made him even angrier.
Ken fell rather than sit down on the sun-warmed sand, his head down on his folded arms in despair. It was too heavy because of... Well, because of the heavy thoughts. Ken couldn't stop replaying in his head that unbearably awful moment when he caught you talking to Another Ken.
His heart, soul, and the bandana he was clutching in his hands with all his fury were bursting at the seams (especially the bandana) as he remembered your laughter. No, your laughter itself was just a wonderful, sonorous sound, the best sound for Ken's ears! The problem was that this charming giggle was caused by a Ken. The Other Ken.
"Hello!”
“Ha-ha... Oh, Ken, hi!"
And then the Other Ken dared to speak to you again, without giving poor Ken a chance to get a word in. So he ran away leave with his head held high, went to the beach, sat down on the shore and began to sob with bitter nostalgia, remembering the pleasure of his time with you.
Ken would have sulked until dawn if you hadn't come to his hunched figure.
“Ken?”
He didn't answer. In fact, he showed no signs of life at all. Except for resentment, of course.
You sat down next to him, trying to look into his eyes. But Ken's head was turned a perfect 180 degrees away from you.
“If this is about Ken, there's something you need to know.”
Ken's heart dropped to his heels when he heard what he clearly least wanted to hear.
“Actually, he and I have been discussing...”
Ken squeezed his eyes shut as if he was about to be hit. The most insane versions of your words were swarming through his head, but none of them came close to reality. To the raw, harsh reality...
“We were talking about a film night for you.”
“What?”
Ken's eyelids fluttered shut, and he didn't even notice how he jerked his head in your direction. And when he did... Well, judging by his wry grimace as he looked at your adored treacherous face with pain, his resentment was quite deep. However, after the words "movie night", another terrible monster awoke inside Ken: curiosity.
"Yes, silly, me and the other Kens were planning to have a film party dedicated to horses. In your honour. And it was supposed to be a surprise!”
Try as he might, Ken was too happy to hide his big smile. A film? In his honour? Horses?!
Ken stared at you with the most devoted look possible as his smile grew bigger and bigger. In his pleasantly surprised eyes, you could clearly read "I'm sorry I thought bad things about you (but it was your fault too)". And perhaps somewhere in the secret corners of Ken's unexplored soul, the thought crept in that the Other Ken might not be such a scoundrel after all. But, of course, those were just the secret corners of his unexplored soul and nothing more.
However, even after bringing Ken back to a more positive mental state, you still needed to hear something very important from him:
“Ken, do you... Do you forgive me? I should have told you about my intentions earlier...”
Ken was looking at you with a bit of disbelief, although you could tell from his convulsively trembling lips that he was using all the possible and impossible powers of his plastic facial expressions to keep from smiling.
“Well, if you tell me when the party is, I might forgive you.”
Ken was far from an actor, and you could tell by the way he pouted when he barely found the control not to turn his head towards you again.
“Of course! Tonight.”
In the end, Ken not only forgave you, but also hugged you uncontrollably.
A/N: This is probably the silliest thing I've ever written.
Summary: Ken, deeply immersed in the cowboy theme, decides to drag gn!Reader into his silly game. Well, it's not like Reader too much in the way…
Word count: 807 words;
Incpired: This Gorgeous Fanart by @thapunqueen;
Song I recommend: Of course, it's Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) by Big & Rich;
Hope this makes you smile!
Almost immediately after the patriarchal period, Ken moved on to another. To the cowboy one. It seems that, having realised that he had nothing to catch on the beach (literally and figuratively), he decided to find himself in a radically different profession. So, from now on, this Ken is a cowboy! Which means walking around Barbieland in a cowboy carnival costume, swinging a Sporty Ken's rope lasso and at any moment (usually the most inappropriate) shouting random exclamations that only Ken considered cowboyish.
However, everyone just turned a blind eye to the ridiculousness of the situation, because Ken was happy. He had never smiled so happily as when he learnt to spin the Sporty Ken's rope lasso.
The problems only started when Ken got too much into the role. If at first he was just whining to every passerby that he wanted a gun, now he was shouting to every passerby that he wanted a gun. Everything seemed to work out when he got his wooden gun, but that was just the start of a crazy race called "Calm the Mad Ken Cowboy".
You've often wondered how things would have turned out if one day Ken hadn't just burst into your home with the words:
“You've been abducted! Piff-puff!!”
You were having a peaceful breakfast in your home in Barbieland, well, before you were abducted, of course.
“Why would you want to abduct me?”
Surely you would have been scared to be kidnap. And you probably would have been if Ken hadn't been your kidnapper.
“Because that's what real cowboys do!”
You didn't know much about cowboys, but something told you that they didn't kidnap random people (or dolls) in the middle of their breakfast.
Ken was smiling excitedly, looking back at the door and licking his lips as if he was expecting to see the sheriffs of the wild west on the porch. You really haven't seen him so excited about something in a long time... Maybe you should play along a little bit? What could happen but that you would only make your friend laugh more? Isn't that a good thing?
You take a deep breath before you start the most ridiculous game of your life.
"Uh-oh!" You put your hands up as if a real gun was pointed at you (although hardly anyone says 'uh-oh' when a deadly weapon is glowing in front of them). "I think I've really been kidnapped!"
Ken's eyes lit up with childlike joy as he looked at you with gratitude. You could barely keep your expression in character, hiding a playful smile. Apparently, you were infected with someone else's carefree spirit.
“When will the noble sheriffs come to rescue me?”
But suddenly Ken's face changed dramatically. He stared at at you in confusion, as if he had just realised that he had kidnapped someone (albeit in jest).
“Why can't I rescue you?”
“You abducted me.”
It seems that the word "noble" has put Ken in front of a difficult moral choice: either to be a kidnapping cowboy or to be a rescuing cowboy, but a noble one. After all, how could anyone but him be noble?
“Uh, wait here a minute.”
Ken ran out of the house, leaving you with your hands up in the middle of the kidnapping scene. And you could have sworn you heard a mysterious whispering coming from behind your door.
Later, you were uninvited to your home. For the second time in one day.
“You are saved!”
You exhaled and gave up. Well, it was definitely an unexpected turn of events, but not the worst. You'd managed to make Ken happy, so you could cross one thing off your to-do list! Oh, you were so naive...
“Now I have to kiss you!”
“What?”
Ken was radiating joyful levity even as he declared that it was his duty as a sheriff to kiss the rescued.
“That's what they do in the films.”
When you decided to have fun with Ken, you didn't mean it! You'd be lying if you said you were totally against it, but it did seem a little wrong to kiss in the circumstances. The problem was also that you were intimately familiar with Ken's stubbornness, and especially with the stubbornness of Ken the Cowboy Sheriff. And you had to do something about it immediately...
You hesitantly walked closer to him, quickly, until the cowboy took control of the situation. You reached for his face and lightly touched his soft cheek with your lips.
When you pulled away, you were greeted by a confused Ken, with his hand firmly pressed to his kissed cheek, his cowboy hat tilted back, his eyes shocked and a deep blush all over his face. You could hardly imagine his reaction if you had dared to kis- Thank you for saving me, officer! Ken could only nod
gn!Reader conducts a "purely friendly" introduce of the Elf with human relations (including practice)
Gif by Tenor
A/N: Elves call each other Elves (like Kens) and they've totally done with that. Do this just for you @ethanlandrygf, thanks for answer!;
Summary: gn!Reader, secretly in love with Ryan Gosling!Elf, is forced to teach him "human things" at his request. Until...
Song I recommend: It's right time to turn on the Jingle Bells in your head;
Word count: 671 words;
Can't believe I wrote this… But I hope you enjoy it!
You have done this often. Not as often as you'd like, but you thanked Santa for the opportunity! After all, not every elf is lucky enough to kiss the most incredibly cute, attractive, and blue-eyed elf in your entire polar community (though you were sure it was in your entire species).
However, you have never been warned against sudden bouts of grief and sadness. Still, everything instantly becomes less bright when you remember that you are unrequitedly in love. Yes, you just couldn't pass up the chance to touch his lips, but those stupid training sessions on "Improving Elf Awareness of Human Relations (an excuse for all sorts of obscenities)" only plunged you deeper into the despair of secret love.
And now you touch his soft lips after a bunch of requests to demonstrate a French kiss (which, as it turned out, to the elves' great shock, did not mean kissing a baguette) with the bitter realization that it's not sincere. It never was and never will be. Only your friend's curiosity allows you to squeeze his palms right now while your lips awkwardly touch in a "French" kiss (although this one was more of a Western European kiss).
“You know, I...” - After a long series of kisses, Elf always put his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily into your ear. But he never spoke. He just grinned like a madman, amused by his zero wonderful skills. "I recently read that those who kiss regularly, like us, are considered a couple. So are we a couple?
Your eyes seem to have moved slightly out of their sockets. You looked up at the serene face of your "companion" in surprise, and in your attempt to determine whether he was teasing you or genuinely interested, you failed miserably. After all, the only serious emotion on that naive face was lust.
“Well...” You were, frankly, so confused that any rational words left your head with the speed of a Christmas sleigh. You had to work with what was left. And what was left was all sorts of nonsense! "I think you can only be a couple if you both have..."
The Elf bit his lip, blinking at you innocently (although you knew for sure that it was just his wonderful acting, and now a wet dream was playing out in his head). No, he's definitely teasing you. Even if he has no idea how to do it.
“Romantic feelings." You finished the sentence with a long sigh of relief. But it was too early for it...
“Do you have them?”
Something stuck in your throat, preventing you from denying it. Perhaps you just couldn't lie to those slyly squinting eyes. Do you really have to...
“Yes.”
Tell the truth?
The Elf remained unchanged. But at some point, his smile spread from one sharp ear to the other, and his already huge round eyes surpassed themselves, widening to the maximum possible for a living being. You found it hard to believe, but the fact remained that the Elf's tongue was licking his lips convulsively, as in those moments when he was planning something particularly lewd.
A sudden jolt, pursed lips and someone else's hands on your shoulders, and there you were already kissing passionately in the darkness of the toy workshop.
It took you a long time to understand the meaning of this kiss. But when you put your conversation together... Oh, it all became so clear that you returned the kiss with all the desire you had been holding back.
However, your long contact was interrupted only so that the Elf could whisper something very, very important in your ear:
“I love you.”
His look could only be described as "completely devoted". Which would be the exact truth.
“And so am I.”
You couldn't stop yourself from kissing that satisfied smile.
***
The Elf's eyebrows rose, and his conspiratorial smile glowed brighter than any Christmas lights.
gn!Reader in one car with Holland March in the middle of a traffic jam
Gif by @adoresbenho
A/N: Tell me, would you read a fanfic about Ryan Gosling's five-minute role as a lecherous elf on snl New Year's episode? (this sounds so crazy, but Ryan is so cute with the pointy ears, bangs, and tall hat... I just need to write it.)
Summary: Agency partner Reader once again gets stuck in a traffic jam with Holland;
Song I recommend: Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen was just made ror Holland;
Word count: 724 words;
Nice reading!
It was just another morning as the third member (counting from the moment of join, although Holland always argued with Hilly to take over as "second" as if it were something really important) of the detective agency. It was just another morning traffic jam in Los Angeles, the only advantage of which was extra time to shave or drink a cup of coffee. After all, as it turned out, working as a detective requires punctuality, which in the case of Holland March was a big problem. So from the very beginning of the day, you were in a hurry, rushing to get things done, and only during irreparable traffic jams could you afford to exhale.
Holland could finally shave, and you could have a cup of strong coffee instead of breakfast.
For such occasions, Holland even kept a thermos of coffee and mountains of plastic cups in the car. No matter how many times you persuaded him to get rid of at least half of them, he categorically refused, calling it a "necessity of life." Well, given that he also used them to drink his liter-long supply of alcohol, it's not surprising.
The only thing that remained a mystery even to the three detectives was why a jar of whipped cream kept appearing in the glove compartment of his car. Although you had a bold guess that after you told Holland that you loved whipped cream coffee, he took it too much to heart.
"Do you think Healy is there yet?"
You asked, sipping from your cup.
"Oh, yeah, Mr.I'm-right-on-time-because-this-is-an-important-job has been there since sunrise."
You couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. The special relationship between your two partners couldn't help but make you laugh, literally, every day.
Holland beamed with pride when he managed to make you laugh.
"Oh, and also..."
But another laugh from you didn't let March finish his sentence. But what could you do? Still, the naive look on Holland's face with a piece of shaving foam on his cheek was more amusing than you could have imagined.
"Pfft... Ha-ha, wait..."
You reached for his cheek to brush away the remaining lather as Holland watched you in pure embarrassment. His eyes looked even more confused when you were a few millimeters away from his face.
However, you quickly returned to your seat, showing traces of white, puffy foam on your palm.
"Is that what made you giggle so much?"
This made you think back to that unsuspecting look on March's face, caught up in his own joke, and made you laugh uncontrollably again.
"I'm sorry... You just looked so cute."
"Did I?"
Holland leaned closer to your seat, scrutinizing every part of your face. You were about to ask what he was going to do, but...
"Aha! Found it!"
His head came as close to yours as possible, and he touched something near the tips of your lips with a triumphant exclamation.
"Is that cream? You're such a sloven."
Holland's finger did indeed show traces of cream from your coffee. And your partner seemed to be expecting some kind of funny reaction from you, looking expectantly into your soul, but you were honestly not in the mood for it... Still, your heart was still racing from being so close to Holland. For some reason, when there were so small distance between the two of you, you began to feel strange jolts inside your chest.
When you barely regained consciousness, the only thing you could do was to move your whole body as close to Holland as possible, making your partner's eyes widen in surprise once again. You didn't know what was driving you at that moment, but you knew you had to work, and you were within a pinkie nail's distance of March's face.
"You're one to talk..."
You ran your fingers through Holland's mustache, wiping away the subtle streaks of shaving foam that had started this whole thing.
Although you wanted something like this, you hadn't expected Holland to do it first. That he would push forward, quickly crossing the short distance between you, and confidently touch your lips. Of course, you immediately returned his kiss.
It seems that car horns were already blaring behind you and angry drivers were furious, but for now you were too busy with each other to pay attention to such trifles.
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