#'oh yeah that's guaranteed to make me sad let's do it!'

[urfavleo777]

warnings: age gap, tattoo artist! colby x reader, alcohol

"Angel's wings!" your best friend exclaims, speaking completely seriously. Your other friend approves, clapping her hands eagerly. "Get them tattooed!"

You almost choke on your drink when you hear how seriously Katrina gives you a new idea for your first tattoo. If someone told you that friendship between three people doesn't exist, you would laugh at them. The three of you are living proof that it's not the number of people in the group that matters, but the love that exists between you. Each of you is different, but that is the most beautiful thing. There is nothing worse than boredom and monotony in friendship.

"Come on, you'll be eighteen in an hour. Do something that will make you happy, not your parents." Sophia, usually the voice of reason, tries to convince you.

You don't know if it's the alcohol you just drank, but in a split second you undergo an internal transformation. You'll be of age in an hour. No one will be able to lecture you. Even your parents who, instead of spending this birthday time with their daughter, decided to go to the mountains. At first you reacted with sadness, but over time you were glad that the situation had turned out this way because you could invite your two favorite girls over for the night.

Katrina and Sophia look at you with impatient eyes, encouraging you to make a quick decision. You take a deep breath, tilting your head back. As pathetic as it sounds, you try your hardest to get advice from the ceiling.

You look back at your waiting friends. They send drunken glances your way, which only reinforces the fact that you must probably look like one of them at this point. Sophia and Katarina's eyes widen. Something unexpected is about to happen; something that will change the course of history forever.

Katarina clenches her fists like a true boxing legend, preparing for the worst possible scenario. With each subsequent inhalation, you feel even more excitement and arousal wash over you. You open your mouth to announce the official verdict.

"If not now, never, right?"

After saying these words, you're crushed under the bodies of these two freaks. And, you swear to yourself that if your parents had been home, after all those squeals of happiness, you would have ended up under a bridge.

"The best decision you've ever made, Y/n! I'm so proud," Sophia squeals excitedly, and Katrina joins in. You realize that you still hold the glass in your hand. You hiss, knowing that you'll definitely need to change the sheets of your bed after tonight. "Don't worry about it! Let's go to the tattoo artist!"

"Now?" you keep mumbling under their bodies.

Katrina and Sophia step away from you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other. You are finally able to catch your breath, but you don't really understand what they're trying to tell you.

"Yes. Now." Sophia grins. "Katrina, are you thinking about the same person as me?"

The friend nods her head in response, also with a big grin on her face.

"Oh, yeah! The handsomest, hottest and most expensive tattoo artist in town," she starts counting and you wonder why you've never heard of him before. "Y/n, we guarantee you the best fucking fun."

"Let's fucking do this!" They both squeal, grabbing your hands and pulling you out of the bed.

***

"You guys didn't even give me a chance to change clothes!"

You are wearing a black body suit and really low rise jeans so people on the street can see a bit of skin, which makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

"You look great." Sophia assures you and Katrina nods to her. Well, they're wearing perfectly balanced sweaters compared to you. They decided to make you the main star without outshining you with clothes. You feel like standing out of the crowd, which you don't like very much.

"Do you think this tattoo artist will accept us without prior consultation?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Maybe we should call him? We'd better get back home..."

"Relax, Y/n," you turn into a street you've probably never been to. Katrina tries to convince you, but with each step you take, you become less and less sure. Even though your parents have well-paid jobs, they usually don't let you hang around the rich districts. They would be disappointed if they knew that while they were away their daughter was getting a tattoo, not really knowing where.

"You said he was an expensive tattoo artist. I don't think I want to spend money this way." You continue, feeling the alcohol drain from you. You regain consciousness and regret saying yes to your friends. "Maybe we should really turn back?"

"Y/n," you stop in front of a building emanating LED light. The girls move closer to you and one of them puts a hand on your shoulder. Sophia, the fucking voice of reason, says: 

"He is my brother's friend. They have been friends since childhood. He practiced on my brother, making the first patterns. He would never take money from me or my friends. We are always out of line. Trust me, you're in good hands."

"He was the one who gave me that big tattoo you liked so much," finishes Katrina.

You sigh, trying to convince yourself first and foremost. Sophia pulls out her phone and brings it closer to your face.

The first thing that catches your eye are the huge white numbers on the screen. What's more, they don't seem blurry at all. You must be really sober. You take a deep breath, recalling the quote of your favorite teacher in your head.

12:00. Carpe diem.

 "It's time to go fucking crazy, Y/n." 

***

"Sophia? What's for today?" It’s a male voice. Raspy, yet soft. The sound of it makes you whip your head over to your friends, but you're trying to stay calm. He lets out a heavy sigh before humming to himself in thought. Only after a while he notices that Sophia is not alone. "And who is this?"

"Hello, Colby. Meet Y/n, your new client." 

And the way he shakes your hand is firm but gentle, not as hard as you think it'd be given the size of his biceps probably are larger than your head. But then he softly grips your elbow and guides you into the chair with a hand on your back. "Don't worry, I don't bite."

"Well, I thought I would have to convince you.. longer."

You flush a little under his gaze because he's noticed how you're shaking like a leaf next to him. And the way he smiles indicates he might enjoy biting you anyways... and maybe you'd let him. 

"I was just about to close, but you know perfectly well that I will always make an exception for you, Sophia." Your friend smiles at his words.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" he focuses all his attention on you. You swallow, not really knowing what to answer. Katrina decides to save your ass from total embarrassment.

"Angel's wings." 

He looks like he's about to roll his eyes.

"Seriously, I can't count how many girls asked me for the exact same pattern. Try something more creative."

"I'd like to stick with the wings, please. In a place invisible to the eye."

"Getting a tattoo so you don't show it to anyone? How old are you anyway?"

"Eighteen." He doesn't look convinced. With one movement of your hand, you pull your ID from your back pocket. Colby, as you can guess, surprised by the concrete, grabs the ID in his hand and looks at it carefully.

"She's so young." When he talks about you in the third person, something happens to you. "Are you sure you want those fucking wings?"

"Come on, Colby. You did this to my brother many times." Sophia interjects. "Don't ruin her birthday."

"Ah, yes. Happy birthday or something." You can tell he’s in a good mood based on the playful amusement in his voice. 

"Thanks," you hang your head.

"We have to do something about her shyness." he turns to your friends.

"Maybe wings between her tits? I bet no girl has ever asked for this," suggests Katrina. You almost choke on your saliva. You want to get up from that chair and run out.

"That sounds perfect." His voice is sweet with a touch of flirtiness, and you swear you can hear the smile in it. "What do you think, Y/n?"

"There's no way I'm going to show you my tits." You take courage. Colby laughs loudly. He clearly takes pleasure in your attitude and shakes his head, leaning in to watch you.

"It's your choice." You bite at your lip instead of answering him. 

"Come on, Y/n. We won't look either." Katrina says and Sophia nods.

You've already succumbed to them once in a while. Nothing will stop you from doing it again.

The girls send you their last kisses. After a while, it's just you and your tattoo artist left in the room.

***

You're honestly glad when the uncomfortable silence is drowned out by the song "Ultraviolence" by Lana Del Rey. You asked to simply turn on the radio, but you were surprised when Colby asked you for the title. What was even weirder was when he used the fucking vinyl of one of your favorite albums instead of Spotify.

He hums to himself. "Those are nice."

You got rid of your bra. No one has ever complimented your boobs, but you smile slightly, burying your face in your hands.

He gives you a little wink before stenciling what you had in mind, his fingertips tracing the lines of the ink that leaves goosebumps across your skin.

There's a lingering feeling as he pulls his hand back. You think he's toying with you. Frightful little thing, you are and here he is wanting to play with his pretty little client. Next thing you know, his hand is around your throat.

You tense and realize that he has moved some of your hair to the other side to give more access to the space between your tits. It definitely could have been done easier and better, but the twinkle in his eyes said he did it on purpose. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun with you. The way his hand barely grazed your throat and the side of your neck before he would gently scratch your arm with his blunt nails and pull away.

He let's out a huff of quiet laughter and then gets his tools ready. "So, y/n, you have a safeword?"

And you're brought out of your thoughts about his large hands because... "Huh?"

"A safeword. It's big."

W..what's big? You can't stop your eyes from flitting down to his thighs and what may lie between them. He laughs and shifts so your eyes are instantly back up and staring at his eyes that glimmer in amusement.

"The tattoo, I mean. It's a big piece. Need to know if it'll be too much, yeah?"

#colby brock #colby brock fluff #colby brock smut #sam and colby #colby brock fanfic #hell week #sam golbach #sam and colby smut #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x reader #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock imagine #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x reader #xplr #colby brock x oc #colby brock x you #sam and colby x reader #sam and colby fanfiction #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach x you #colby x reader #xplr club #colby

[sadhours]

Harringrove at Tina’s party pleaseeeeee. Steve is a sobbing mess over nancy and just wants to forget and who better than to assist him with that than Billy???? Also Billy just leaving Steve covered in his cum and crying over his new conflicted feelings like ughhhh

Hi I love you. This was fun to write. It uh, gets a lil sad at the end.

Cw: 18+ minors dni, Billy using Steve. Some degradation. Smut and angst?

Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

The words repeated heavy in Steve’s head, over and over and over until his stomach churned with dread and disgust. Nancy thought they were bullshit? While Steve thought they were what? In love? He feels like a fool but what the fuck else is new. The eyes on him as he stalked after her and her stupid punch stained shirt tell him he’s gonna hear about this all week at school. Guaranteed to be blame of the punch spill anyways.

He had fully intended to stay relatively sober at this party when he arrived but now the slice in his heart needs mending and ya know what, that bottle of Jack he earlier denied is calling his name. So he goes to find it, eyes scanning the crowd until it falls on that annoying man, pecks peeking out behind a leather jacket and of course, the stupid fingerless gloves he’s wearing are wrapped around that bottle of whiskey Steve is suddenly desperate for. Fuck it. He’s King Steve, this beautiful asshole called him that earlier, when he puffed his chest and glared into Steve’s soul. He can fucking take the whiskey from him. In fact, he has to. Pushing through the crowd, Steve gets his fingers around the neck of the bottle and tugs. Hargrove raises his eyebrows, lips turning up into a smirk but he doesn’t give, grips the shaft of the bottle tighter.

“Need something, King Steve?” his honeyed voice purrs and it boils Steve’s blood.

With a curl of his upper lip, he growls back, “Yeah, fork it over, prick.”

“Oh,” Billy cackles, “Yes, your majesty. Here.”

Steve rips the bottle from Billy’s hand and takes a dangerous swig of it, the amber liquid burning down his throat. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the blue ones glued to his face, something insidious behind them. Steve doesn’t care, chokes down another fiery swig and exhales, his stomach swirling with heat from the booze. Hargrove keeps eying him with intrigue, a playful tilt to his smirk that makes Steve weary. He goes to stomp off, then fingers are wrapping around his wrist.

“Something bothering you?” Billy asks with a duck of his head, shining teeth bared in a smile Steve doesn’t exactly trust.

“Yeah, you.”

“Feisty, nice. I’ve heard that about you,” Hargrove beams, keeps his grip firm on Steve’s wrist and tugs him into the bathroom he’d just been told he was bullshit in.

He locks the door behind him, leans against the door and looks at Steve differently. Almost hungry?

“What’s this about? Let me out,” Steve seethes and moves for the doorknob but Billy blocks him.

“C’mon,” he pouts, “something’s bothering you, what is it?” Hargrove tilts his head, “Something to do with your stuck up girlfriend?”

“Shut up,” Steve hates the way his eyes well up with tears, hates the way his stomach drops at the mention of Nancy.

“She dump you in here?” Billy asks with this shit eating grin that makes Steve’s skin crawl.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Steve tries, ashamed of the way his voice cracks when he says it.

Hargrove pouts again, snatches the bottle from Steve’s grip and swallows some down before setting it on the counter, “C’mon, you’re King Steve, right? Bitches come and go.”

“Stop,” Steve whimpers out, bringing his hands up to his face in shame as the tears trickle down his cheeks.

Billy crowds him then, presses the small of his back against the counter and gets real close to his face. It’s threatening at first but something about Billy’s whiskey and nicotine tinged breath on his face is… hot? Oh, god. What the fuck is wrong with him? It’s the whiskey, even though he hasn’t really had much. It’s the rejection doing it. He’s not even into guys. Why the hell is Billy Hargrove of all people making his dick twitch? It makes such little sense that he’s full on crying now, sobbing into the minuscule space between them. And Hargrove’s hands grip his waist, and then he… he fucking licks the tears off of Steve’s cheek and Jesus Christ, he’s hard in his jeans from it. Steve chokes out another pathetic sob before he shoves Billy back, glaring down at him fiercely.

“The fuck is wrong with you, faggot?” Steve seethes out, pushing down another sob.

Billy scoffs, raises a brow and moves his hand to cup Steve through his jeans, “I’m not often wrong. And I’m not wrong this time, faggot.”

Steve closes his eyes as he whimpers, the warmth and firmness of Billy’s palm against his pulsing erection confirms it for the both of ‘em. Steve likes this. He actually fucking likes this. And it’s definitely because the whiskey and Nancy breaking his heart and not actually because he’s attracted to Hargrove. He thinks for a brief moment before he’s reaching back for the bottle of Jack and downs some more. He sets it back down and rolls his hips into Billy’s hand, letting another slew of tears escape his eyes. Hargrove presses into his strained erection and licks his cheek again. And it’s the oddest thing. Steve feels heat pooling in his stomach from it. Maybe it’s the whiskey. The safer thing to think is it’s from the whiskey and not from the weird, gay degradation happening.

“Poor King Steve,” Hargrove whispers in his ear, “Crying over some mediocre pussy.”

Steve can’t even fight back anymore, he’s over the fight and all he can is welcome the pleasure erupting over his body from Hargrove fondling his cock and balls over his jeans. It’s pathetic, he knows that but it feels too good and he wants more. No, he needs more. Tells Billy as much with a whimper and another roll of his hips.

“I’ll make you cry like a bitch, too,” Hargrove mumbles into the shell of his ear before dipping down to bite his lobe and tug.

The cries turn into moans as Billy bites down Steve’s neck and undoes his jeans, shoving them down his thighs and wrapping his fingers around Steve’s aching cock. The leather from the gloves is an interesting sensation, Steve likes it a lot. It’s obvious by the way he’s thrusting up into Billy’s fist and whining.

“God, you’re whiny,” Billy observes, jerking Steve’s cock dry in his palm, “That why the princess dumped you? She get fed up with how much of a bitch you are?”

“Shut up,” Steve says behind gritted teeth, fingers moving to grip the counter behind him.

“I haven’t even done anything,” Billy comments? pulling back as he scoops the precum bubbling from Steve’s dick on his fingertip and brings it up eye level, “Even your dick is weeping.”

Billy apparently thinks he’s hilarious by the way he cackles, but then he’s licking the slick from his finger and Steve’s knees almost buckle from the sight. He thinks this might be the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, and that’s alarming but something for him to consider after he’s blown his load. Hargrove drops to his knees and squeezes the base of Steve’s cock, looking up at him under thick lashes. He’s so pretty, Steve wants to touch his face, drag his thumb along Billy’s cheekbone but he doesn’t let himself. His leaking, pulsing hard on is proof enough he thinks Billy is pretty, doesn’t need to push his luck anyway. He thinks Hargrove might bite his fingers if he does so, or maybe worse, his dick.

Plush, pink lips circle the head of Steve’s cock and he’s letting out a gasp, shocked by just how much he likes the sight. He wants so desperately to touch the boy before him but he won’t let himself, no matter how much those dirty blonde curls are begging to have Steve’s fingers in them. Hargrove’s mouth is so warm and so wet as he takes Steve down. Better than any hole he’s ever been in and that’s… another thought for later. His cock twitches in Billy’s mouth, and he smirks around it, letting Steve know he felt it.

“Fuuuck,” he whines out, lips parting in ecstasy. The arousal he feels now is white hot, intoxicating more than any swig of whiskey. If he’s not careful, he’s libel to fall in love with Billy Hargrove this instant and nobody needs that. Pupils blown, Billy looks into Steve’s eyes while he sucks him down deep, so deep. Steve can feel his tip hitting the back of Hargrove’s throat and the fucker swallows. Steve’s seeing stars for a second, forgetting that he was trying not to touch Billy as he slips his fingers into that dumb fucking mullet. Tugs while he moans lowly, earning another smile around his cock. God damn, this idiot is pretty and Steve hates him and loves him all at once. Wants to punch his dumb face and kiss it at the same time.

Hargrove moves a hand up and cradles Steve’s balls in his palm, bobbing his head up and down like he was fucking born to do this. How did he get so good at sucking cock? Steve suddenly feels excited at the prospect of knowing this secret about Billy, maybe he can use this against him. But then again, it’s his dick down Hargrove’s throat. One of these might be gayer but Steve can’t even finish these thoughts because Billy’s giving him the blowjob of a lifetime and Steve’s pathetically on the brink of orgasm. Can’t even warn Billy before he’s shooting down his throat.

“Christ,” he chokes out, bucking his hips into Billy’s face as he chases the pleasure and this guy is a champ. Billy grabs a hold of Steve’s thighs and takes the face fucking, then leans back on his haunches as he grins up at him.

Steve’s panting against the counter, coming back down to earth when Billy opens the cabinet to the left of his leg and starts rifling through it.

“What are you doing?” Steve wonders, voice wrecked.

“Said I was gonna make you cry like a bitch, didn’t I?” Billy quips around a dangerous smirk, holding up a bottle of baby oil.

“What?” Steve asks, eyes wide. What the hell is Hargrove gonna do with that oil?

“Turn around,” Billy rises to his feet, eyebrow lifted like he dares Steve to disobey.

“Dude— no,” Steve gapes, “I—“

“Pretty boy, I said turn around,” Billy levels, eyes dark and Steve does, in spite of everything telling him not to. Hargrove’s lips are on his ear, “Lemme show you something that priss never could.”

Suddenly, there’s a slickness pressing to his asshole and Steve chokes out a gasp, looks at himself in the mirror and his face shows the shock he feels. Billy hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder and meets his eyes in the mirror as his fingers rub circles against Steve’s hole. It feels nice despite the panic rising in his chest, and Steve doesn’t tear his eyes away from the reflection of Billy’s.

“I’m gonna make you feel better than that bitch ever could,” Billy tells him, voice low and raspy which causes another stir to Steve’s softening cock. Then Billy’s finger pushes past the tight ring of Steve’s asshole and it’s a sharp pain but at the same time it’s overwhelmingly pleasant. Punches a moan out of Steve’s throat and he drops his head, eyes on the sink but immediately, Billy’s hands on his throat and urging his head upright again.

“Look at yourself,” he insists, curling his finger and then bites Steve’s jaw. “Such a pretty boy.”

Steve whines, not recognizing himself in the mirror. Billy’s sliding in another finger as his tongue soothes the tender skin his teeth assaulted, eyes trained on Steve’s flushed face. Billy’s fingers twist and prod until they hit a spot inside of Steve he didn’t know existed and he cries out, vision blurring as Billy continuously rubs at the spot. The stupidly gorgeous face he sees in the mirror looks smug, but Steve’s a little too preoccupied to be mad at it. Hell, he barely notices when Billy’s adding a third digit to his hole. Steve whimpers out, knuckles turning white where he’s gripping tightly onto the countertop.

Hargrove bites at his jaw again, thrusting his fingers in quick succession and each time they poke Steve’s prostate he moans, feeling his eyes cross as his cock springs back to life. He scissors his fingers, stretching Steve’s hole as he groans lowly and rolls his hips.

“Think you’re ready?” Billy asks, voice teetering on desperation and it’s really nice to hear. Steve’s nodding his head, all the panic from before evaporated at this point.

Billy pulls his fingers out and Steve fucking whines, more pathetic than he’s sounded all night. It’s short lived, Billy’s quick with slathering his cock in the oil and pressing his head to Steve’s eager hole. Obviously, his cock is thicker than his fingers and Steve’s feeling that panic return but Billy pushes the head through and Steve cries out, tears prickling his eyes at the sensation because it is painful but his balls tighten from it and his eyes roll back. It’s painful in the delicious kind of way. He couldn’t even remember Nancy’s name in this moment if he tried. Heads empty, nobodies home. Just clouds of God, that’s nice and oh, wow there’s a cock in my ass. Billy’s hand meets his throat again and he purrs in Steve’s ear, “Look at me.”

Steve didn’t even realize he’d closed his eyes, but he opens them and his vision is flooded with the reflection of himself, Billy’s face pressed next to his and that leather clad hand around his neck. He looks to Billy’s eyes in the mirror, a little upset with how much it makes his heart swell. Steve’s easy. Billy saw he was upset and did something to make him forget about it. Fuck, he might be in love. Nope. Steve, stop it.

Billy sinks in a little deeper, draining the air of Steve’s lungs as he does so, “Fuck!”

“I was right, huh?” Billy says, breathless as his face contorts in pleasure.

“Uh huh,” Steve breathes, would agree with anything the blonde says at this point. His heads all warm and fuzzy and Billy’s really pretty. The angles of his face irritated Steve before, got a hint of jealousy in his gut but now he just wants to touch them.

Hargrove groans, digging his nails into Steve’s hips as he drives deeper into the brunette, “So fucking tight.”

And then the head of his cock meets with Steve’s prostate and Steve’s eye roll back in his head. He would’ve collapsed to the floor if it wasn’t for the grip Billy has on him. Doesn’t realize he’s crying again until Billy licks his cheeks again, hips still as he allows Steve to adjust to his length. Hargrove’s breath is heavy on his face, fanning across his sticky cheek in waves. Billy starts rolling his hips, languid and deep and each stroke makes Steve feel like he’s floating higher and higher away. His reflection looks as fucked out as he feels, his eyes glazed over and wide, lips parted in an O and his cheeks are wildly flushed. But this sensation is fucking otherworldly and his cocks at full attention, begging to be touched even though he just came. His chest feels tight while he spews out these breathless and high pitched moans. Hargrove looks as smug as can be, cheek pressed against Steve’s with this fucking grin on his face, like he’s so proud of himself.

“When I heard about you,” Billy grunts, “I didn’t think you’d be this fucking easy.” He punctuates the last word with a particularly rough thrust that’s got Steve’s toes curling in his shoes.

Steve couldn’t talk if he tried, brains too fuzzy with euphoria and fuck, is he drooling? Yep, he is. A string of saliva drips from his lips down onto the bathroom counter but he can’t be bothered to wipe his face, he can’t fucking move at all besides his hips. They keep pushing back to meet Billy’s thrusts.

Hargrove wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock and strokes him at the same pace he’s drilling into him. And fuck, fuck, oh fuck. Steve cries out, eyes squeezing shut as he spills spunk all over Billy’s fist. He’s never cum that quick in his life. He’s out to lunch, man. Seeing stars, seeing God. When he’s coming back to earth, Hargrove’s laughing, clearly pleased with himself. He bends Steve over the counter and hammers into him, hard and quick. The roughness of his hips slamming into the counter launch sharp pain down his legs and he’s crying out again, gripping onto the counter for dear fucking life. And then a totally new sensation has him babbling and moaning as Billy fills him with spunk, a guttural grunt falling on Steve’s ears. But as quick as he feels it, it’s gone. Billy’s pulling out of him and he feels a little pat on his head before he hears the door open and close. Steve sinks down to the floor, curling up in the fetal position as he processes what the fuck just happened. And he’s sobbing some more, his heart twisting with a pain he’s never felt before. His thighs are slick and sticky and his ass is fucking sore but worse than that, he’s alone. Steve feels used up, stupid and more confused than he’s ever been.

#harringrove #harringrove smut #harringrove ficlet #harringrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x steve harrington #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy x steve #request

[babybluebex]

italy calling: part one | joseph quinn x fem!reader

summary: part one of three! after much convincing on your friend's part, you end up in italy and, on your first night, you meet a handsome stranger. pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: drinking, probably bad financial decisions word count: 3.1k author's note: again, big thanks to @icallhimjoey and @wordscomehither for your help on this fic!! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this fic!

You suppose, the whole thing wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for the no good, terrible job you had. 

Overall, you liked your job. Well, that was an exaggeration. You liked your job well enough that you showed up every day and did your work, entering data into spreadsheets for an organization that you honestly weren’t entirely sure of what it was. There were quotas that you had to record, quantities and whatnot that you supposed people were chastised for for not meeting. But past that, you didn’t really know. The important thing was that it was mind-numbing work, just punching away at your computer day after day, getting lunch breaks and fifteens and really whatever else you needed. Decent sick leave hours, and a bit of a process to request time off, but you didn’t mind your job, no matter how tedious it could be. Your cubicle was small and you hated the professional “office attire” that you had to wear, but you made do, coming home each evening to a TV dinner and reruns of Murder, She Wrote. 

Your friend, however, was convinced that you were miserable and needed something more. “Babes,” Lily said one night over margs and tacos. She had sort of dragged you out of the comfort of your flat and forced you to do a “girl’s night”, and you poked at your margarita with your straw. “You need a vacay. Like, desperately.” 

“No, I don’t,” you told her. “Where would I go? What would I do?” 

“Go to Italy or something!” Lily said. “Just for a week, just long enough to destress from work! Your shoulders are all tense, you look sad.” 

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Go to some expensive resort for a week and blow my savings for what? To ‘destress’, only for me to come back home to work and get all stressed out again? No thanks, Lil, I’ll stick with London.” 

“I mean…” Lily started. “My family has a house in Livorno. I’m sure my parents would let you stay for way less than if you went to some resort.” 

“Okay, I’d still have to get a plane ticket and pack and everything,” you said. “And ask for time off, which isn’t guaranteed. It’s just— Lil, I love you and I appreciate you thinking about me, but it’s just not doable.” 

“What if I went with you?” Lily asked. “Then, you’d get the house for free, because I’d be there with you! I won’t, like, harsh your mellow or anything either, I can chill at the house while you explore and everything. C’mon, some sunshine will do you good.” 

You frowned. You loved Lily, you had known her since your school days, but she had a sort of intense personality that could get old quickly, especially if you had to spend more than about three days together. She was definitely all beautiful and bubbly, could make friends with anyone no matter where she was or who she was with, and you just didn’t consider yourself her social equal. You definitely couldn’t see yourself traveling to Italy with her, but you also knew that she would keep on the topic like a dog on a bone. “I mean…” you started. “I guess it would be nice to get away from London for the week. And I do like Italian food.” 

“Yes!” Lily smiled. “Go to Italy!” 

You sighed. “Alright,” you said. “Give me a few days to check if I can get time off and see what my money situation is, and I’ll get back to you.” 

“Oh!” Lily squealed, and she grabbed your arm. “I’m so excited for you! You’re going to Italy!” 

“Maybe,” you said quickly. “I might be.” 

“What if you meet a guy?” Lily gasped. “Some tall, dark Italian guy?” 

“Now you’re just talking shit,” you laughed. “I’m not gonna meet some guy in Italy, that’s added stress that I don’t need. That’s ridiculous.” 

“Maybe not a relationship,” Lily said. “Maybe just a little… Tryst. A fling. Just for the week.” 

Just for the week. A fling. Oh, Lily, you optimistic creature, you. You were lucky to pull a guy in London, there was no hope for you in Italy. “Right, right,” you mumbled. “When pigs fly.” 

“Don’t get so down on yourself,” Lily said. “You could! You could meet the most wonderful guy and keep up with him after the vacation!” 

“Ew, long distance?” you said, wrinkling your nose. “I might go to Italy, but you can forget about a man.” 

You didn’t forget about that, though. You thought about the idea of it for the next week, as you worked and relaxed. You sorted through your finances and found that, if you stayed at a midline hotel, you could stay in Livorno pretty comfortably for roughly a week. You appreciated Lily’s offer of staying at her family’s house, but you wanted time to yourself, and you couldn’t see Lily giving that. Staying at a hotel would wipe out your savings, though, so you hoped that you didn’t have any sort of emergency before or after the vacation. You sent in your time off request, and you were elated when it came back the next day as approved. 

It seemed as if you were going to Italy. 

Finally, after waiting for what felt like years, the time came. You packed the day before, putting in swimsuits and jackets and everything that you could imagine— you had looked at the weather forecast and it said that it would be hot, but you knew that the nights could go cold, so you packed at all ends of the spectrum. Your flight took off at ten in the morning, giving you very little time in the morning to get ready, and you shot Lily a text when you left your flat. Italy, here I come! 

You felt like you were holding your breath the entire time you passed through security and boarding the flight. The flight was pretty decent, all things considered, and your heart caught in your throat when you finally saw the bright blue Italian water as you made your descent. You held your breath again as you made your way through customs, and in the taxi, and you finally, finally sighed when you made your way into the hotel room. It was small, just a king-size bed with a serviceable bathroom (with a tub, what a win), but the real showstopper was the balcony. It was tiny, hardly big enough for you to stand out on, but it overlooked the city, giving a beautiful view of Livorno and all she had to offer. You flopped down onto the bed, the balcony doors wide open, and you sighed again. Finally. A vacation. 

As per the vacation rules that you yourself had set, you took a nap, then got ready to go out. You didn’t usually fancy yourself a “going-out” type of girlie, but Italian nightclubs always looked so fun in movies and on TV. You had to experience it, before your better sense told you not to. In fact, your lesser sense told you that, even exhausted from the flight, going out would be good for you. You put on your favorite outfit, still smelling like your flat in London, and you hoped that it was chic enough for Livorno before you skipped out of the hotel room, making sure you had your key with you. 

The sun was just starting to set as you found a nightclub, close to your hotel but far enough to be unfamiliar. Once in, you adjusted to the low lights and pulsing music, and you wondered for a second if this was a bad idea. Not just the club, but the trip as a whole. You had considered your Italian to be pretty good, enough to survive in the country for a week, but the chattering around you was overwhelming. You couldn’t make out a single word, and you ground your back teeth as you steadied yourself on a barstool. Just order a drink, you told yourself. And fucking relax. 

Luckily, you didn’t have to take your chances on ordering something and wondering what the Italian name for it was. Before you could even grab the bartender’s attention, he set a glass down in front of you, a martini glass, filled with a clear drink with an olive. The bartender said something to you, something you could scarcely make out as “Something something, gentleman at the end of the bar, something something”, then turned back to his work. 

You expected to turn and see the type of guy Lily had mentioned, tanned and Italian and overall gorgeous, and, yes, the guy you locked eyes was gorgeous, but he was not tanned and Italian. He looked a little pale under the blue and purple lights, scruffy curls at the nape of his neck, a round nose, a crooked smile on his pink lips. He wore a buttoned shirt, the top two buttons undone, two thin chains around his freckled (and sunburnt?) neck, baggy jeans and white sneakers— an odd outfit, to be sure, but his handsome face and enigmatic energy made you smile at him and pull your head towards yourself, inviting him over. 

The first thing he said was “Hi there”. Thank God. English. And British, maybe? Something like that. You focused on the English. 

“Hi,” you said. “Thanks for the drink.” 

“Of course,” the guy said with a nod. “I hope you like martinis.” 

“Can I be honest?” you cringed, and you cast a glance at the drink before adding, “They’re not my favorite.” 

“Aw, shit,” he said with an abashed smile, shaking his head. “Well, what is your favorite? I’ll buy that for you.” 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to,” you said quickly. “I, umm, thanks for the offer, though.” 

The guy looked downtrodden, seeing your rejection, and he started to say, “Alright, then, umm, have a good night—“ but you stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

“No, no, that’s not—“ you started. “That’s just me saying that you don’t have to buy me a drink. Don’t go.” You don’t know why you said that to him, especially sounding so desperate, but he seemed into it, the cheeky smile returning to his face. 

“I won’t,” he said. “I’ll stay right here.” 

“What’s your name?” you asked, sliding the martini towards him, and he took it by the stem of the glass, looking at it contemplatively for a moment, as if considering what name to give you. 

“Joe.” 

“Joe?” you repeated. “Is that your final answer?” 

“Yes,” he said, smiling. “My name is Joe.” 

“I feel like you’re giving me a fake name,” you told him teasingly, tipping your head towards him. 

He rolled his eyes as he grinned, and he said, “My full name is Joseph, if that helps my credibility. But everyone calls me Joe.” 

“Alright, that makes me feel a little better,” you admitted. “Is there a surname?” 

“Mmm,” Joe hummed. “See, I don’t want to give you my surname.” 

“Why not?” you asked. 

“I want to maintain the mysterious stranger image that I’ve got going on,” Joe told you. “A handsome stranger sends you a drink and only shares certain information about himself; aren’t you curious to know more?” 

“Right,” you said. “That only makes you sound creepy. But also correct. Now, I wanna know everything about you.” 

“Maybe you will,” Joe shrugged. “Maybe you won’t.” 

“So, Mysterious Joe,” you started slowly, eyeing him up and down. He looked comfortable, leaned up against the bar, tapping his toe to the beat of the song, but his eyes were looking all around, over your shoulder and to the person next to you, before finally settling on your face as you spoke. It almost seemed as if he were looking for something— or someone. “What do you do?” 

“I’m an actor,” Joe answered easily, too easily. “I’m really famous, too, been in stuff that you’ve seen. You’ve seen my face before, I guarantee it.” 

That made you laugh. Joe smiled at you as you laughed at his words, and he said, “What, don’t you believe me?” 

“Not at all!” you said. 

“Good!” Joe said. “You shouldn’t!” 

“So, you’re not an actor,” you said, your laughter dying down with tiny giggles, and Joe’s cheeks turned a shade of pink under the lights. “Can I guess what you are?” 

“You can try,” Joe said. “But you’ll never guess it right.” 

“Maybe,” you started. “If you buy me an actual drink, you might convince me to drop the whole thing.” 

“Done, darling,” Joe said. “What do you want?” 

The night went mainly that way, laughing and joking with Joe, and he bought you your drinks all night. You complained every time he told the bartender to add your G&T to his tab, but Joe shook his head and insisted. The more you talked to him, the more you liked him; he was funny and very down to earth, always telling stories about his friends and family. You asked him what he was doing in Italy, and he said something about a vacation between big work events, although he didn’t elaborate what events they were. In fact, when it came to his work, he was very tight-lipped. Twice during the night, his phone went off, and he scowled at it before he declined a call from someone named “Alex”. When you asked— “Alex must really need to talk to you, surely?”— Joe shook his head. “Alex can wait,” he said. 

You weren’t sure at what point you decided that you wanted to sleep with him, but you eventually came to the realization that Joe also wanted that. He had stepped closer and closer until his hips nudged your knee as you sat on the barstool, and he carefully let his hand touch your thigh. You got the impression that he would have tugged his hand away had you expressed discomfort, and you just generally felt safe with him. He was an easy, laid-back sort of guy, and you liked that; those sorts of fellas were hard to find anywhere nowadays. Joe’s eyes canvased your body as you spoke, regaling a story from your uni days, and his gaze stopped at your lips, all of your lipstick having worn off onto the edge of your glass. 

Finally, Joe made his move. “Why don’t we go someplace more… I don’t know, quiet?” he asked, leaning forward and speaking into your ear to be heard over the music, and you nodded quickly, polishing off your drink with haste. “I’ll meet you out front, let me pay the tab.”

The night air outside was warm, and you checked your phone as you waited for Joe. It was just past one in the morning, no new calls or texts, just work emails that you promptly dismissed before you sighed. “Tired?” you heard Joe ask from behind you, and you shook your head. 

“Just… Work,” you said. “You know how it is.” 

“I do,” Joe nodded. Without the hustle and bustle of the club and the colored lights, you could finally see him properly, and you saw a subtle golden glow on his skin, faint freckles splashing his nose and cheeks, his rounded cheeks tinted pink. And his eyes. Jesus. You had seen that they were dark in the club, but outside, in the streetlight, you could finally see that they weren’t just brown. They were deep brown, dark brown, chocolate brown— neverending, hypnotizing. You felt your legs grow a little weak and, in your state of maybe one too many G&Ts, you blurted out, “You have nice eyes.”

“So do you,” Joe told you, putting a hand on your back, maybe to steady you or maybe to pull you closer. No matter why he did it, your hands went to his chest, and he drew you into him, his arms around your waist. “You’re beautiful.” 

“You should kiss me,” you told him, and Joe chuckled, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I think someone’s a little drunk,” Joe said fondly. “Where are you staying? I’ll walk you back.” 

“Umm,” you started. You couldn’t recall the name of the hotel you were at, and you went into your bag, searching for the room key that you knew had the name of the hotel on it. “This one. Here, I can’t pronounce it, I’d absolutely butcher it.” 

Joe took the key card in-between his fingers and looked at it, reading what was written, and he mumbled, “Oh, that’s close to here. C’mon, darling.” 

“How long are you in Livorno for?” you asked, carefully taking Joe’s hand in yours as you started your short walk. He instantly laced his fingers with yours, his hand big and warm and soft, and you felt yourself going warm at the thought of his hands all over you. 

“Just until Friday,” Joe told you. “Only a few more days. You?”

“Tonight’s actually my first night,” you told him. “I got in earlier today.”

“Oh, nice,” Joe said. “Well, I’m glad I got to meet you during the small window we have together.” 

“Likewise,” you told him. 

You kept small talk as you walked to your hotel, not going too deep into conversation like you had at the club, and Joe stopped himself as you approached your hotel. “Aren’t you coming up?” you asked, and Joe grimaced. 

“Not tonight, love,” he told you gently. “You’re drunk. It’s not right.” 

Although you were disappointed and pouted, you felt relieved that he had the good sense to recognize that and not try to take advantage of you in any way. “Fine,” you said. “Can I at least, like, get your phone number or something?”

Joe smiled softly. “Sure,” he said, and he told you an England-based number. You had glommed onto the fact that he was British, what with the accent and certain stories he told, but he had never told you where he lived. Now, you were narrowing in on him. You saved it in your phone as Italy Joe, and you grinned at him. 

“Can I get a goodbye kiss too?” you asked, and Joe chuckled. 

“You’re incorrigible, aren’t you?” he said. 

“Yeah, well, it’s my best quality,” you giggled. “Please?”

Joe locked eyes with you, and you shivered under his intense gaze. Carefully, he tugged you close to him again, and he gave your cheek a firm kiss before he drifted away. “Since you asked so nicely,” he whispered. “Good night, darling.”

“G’night,” you told him, and you went back into your hotel, dreams of the mysterious Joe already swimming around your head. You definitely were going to call him tomorrow.

#joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn rpf

[mypoisonedvine]

𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓸𝓯 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼 (part II) | billy knight x reader

(part 1 here)

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 | bringing your old friend back into your life forces you to decide between the life you chose to follow or the life you left behind...

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 | 6.4k

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | 18+ adult content (implied smut), angst, hurt/comfort, infidelity, mentions of abuse, fluff

THANK YOU MY DARLING BEX @creme-bruhlee who co-wrote this with me!! it wouldn't be finished without their contributions so everyone say thank you bex <3

You walked along the shore of the creek, hearing Billy’s footsteps crunch the soggy leaves behind you.  You turned over your shoulder and laughed as you watched him make wide, awkward steps to avoid sharper rocks and puddles of water.

“Not gonna slip, are you?” you asked, and he shook his head, looking up at you for a second with a little smile on his lips.

You looked ahead again, admiring the view for the first time since your first week here— you got used to it, somehow, over the months.  You nearly lost the ability to appreciate how gorgeous it really was.  But knowing this was your last sunset at Oak Hill made it look entirely new.

The sun was low, hiding behind trees that bent in the wind, making the whole sky look all swirly and orange like—

“Marmalade,” Billy blurted out suddenly as he stepped up beside where you were standing.  “Sky looks like marmalade on toast.”

You snorted, looking at him before looking back to the sunset-stained sky.

“And those clouds there?  That’s the butter,” he smiled.  “Good, Irish butter, getting all melty and soaking into the bread and mixing with the preserves—”

“Stop,” you whined, dragging it out as you tilted your head back and clutched your belly, “you’re making me hungry.”

“We could always go back for dinner,” Billy joked with a grin, “and have meatloaf for the thousandth time.”

“I’ve been here even longer than you— it would be my third-thousandth time,” you reminded him.

He seemed to get sad then, wiping under his nose roughly a few times as he stared down at the creek beneath his boots.  You deflated, too; you’d been here longer, and your time was up.  You never thought you could want to stay longer… but you never thought you’d meet someone like Billy.

“Anyhow,” you changed the subject quickly, “I-I was thinking I’d get something really good tomorrow.  Been craving Nando’s for about, oh, a year or so—”

Billy snorted.  “Figured you’d want something a little nicer— y’know, somethin’ fancy, after eating all this cheap cafeteria stuff…”

You walked together to the fallen tree— it wasn’t actually completely knocked over, but it had grown sideways into a sort of arch— and you kept glancing at him, kept admiring the way the light of dusk shined in his hair, made it look golden.  “I mean, sure,” you replied, “but with whose money?”

He shrugged, reaching up and scratched the side of his head for a moment, before quickly sniffling and rubbing his nose again.

You leaned your back against the tree, wishing so much that he would stand in front of you and let you look right at him, but he leaned beside you instead.  For a moment you were both quiet, just looking at the creek and the sky— darker by the second— and listening to the stillness of the world.  It wasn’t so quiet out there, and you weren’t guaranteed a place to sleep or a nurse to come help you if you have an episode.

But you’d be free.

You looked at Billy again, watching him stare forward as he brushed a shaky hand over his wavy hair.

Free, and alone.  No one to enjoy your freedom with.

“So,” you began quietly, looking down at the ground where you traced random circles in the leaves with the toe of your shoe, “I, erm… I’ll miss you loads.  I know you know that.”

He nodded quickly.  “Y-yeah, I… dunno what m’gonna do without you, actually.”

You felt your cheeks flush, and that butterfly feeling stirred in your gut again; Billy used to just be the new kid, the quiet one with the mess of curly hair.  It’s hard to say when it changed for you— maybe it was when you took him out by this creek for the first time, with three others, just for some obligatory rebellion after hours, and he picked a wildflower to hand to you.  Or, likely, it was when he found you hiding in a supply closet and didn’t even ask what was wrong, just held your hand until you felt right again.  There was a case to be made that it started as soon as you met him, but you didn’t notice for the first month or two.

You shivered a little, since it was getting chillier the later it got, and he glanced at you.  “Are you cold?” he wondered.

You denied it with a shake of your head, but he was stripping off his zip-up anyways.  “O-oh, Billy, I’m really fine—”

Sighing, you relented as he draped the jacket around your shoulders, tugging either end of the zipper towards each other on your chest as you mumbled your thanks.

It took him a few seconds to notice that you were looking at his face, and when he looked back at you, you could see him thinking— though you could only imagine what.  Your chest filled with a breath of hope; his eyes darted around all over the place, mostly down to the ground shyly.  Maybe this could be it, the moment you’d been dreaming of—

He let go of the jacket and wiped his nose.  “M-maybe that’ll keep you warm,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You slumped your shoulders defeatedly.  “Bet so,” you agreed.  It smelled like him, and you revelled in that.

An uncomfortable silence settled in as you watched Billy, gnawing your lip, wondering where to go now that the moment had passed.

He suddenly grabbed your— his— jacket again and slammed his lips onto yours.  Eyes shut tight, like he was focusing all his energy on it; it was sudden and hard but it was perfect, and you melted into him quickly.

He pulled away almost as fast as he’d leaned in, looking at you with a particular expression, clearly wondering if he’d made a horrible mistake.  You just reached up and weaved your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him in again— a longer, slower, deeper kiss.  You settled into a pattern with him, his lips carefully moving on yours.  One of his hands found your waist and gave you a soft squeeze there, and you smiled against him.

It ended eventually, him pulling back first to look at you with more love in his eyes than you’d ever seen on anyone before— let alone directed at you. 

“Billy,” you breathed, “why’d you have to wait so long to do that?”

He laughed softly, and you did too, reaching up to stroke his cheek with your thumb.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“No, I just—” you sighed, leaning forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder.  You felt his hand gently pet the back of your head and you bit your lip.  “I’ve just been hoping— I thought maybe— and I’m leaving tomorrow—”

“Shh,” he soothed, and when you lifted your head to blink up at him, he closed his own eyes and rested his forehead on yours.

As your eyes fell shut as well, a shiver ran over you— the evening chill was creeping in while the sun crossed the horizon, and not even Billy’s hoodie could protect you from the nippy breeze.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you into him as you reached up to rest your hands on his chest.  It was sweet, and it was warm, but it was a goodbye hug: you could tell just by the way he kissed the top of your head and rubbed your arms and took a deep breath in.  You pulled back, just at your head and shoulders, to look up at him.

“Promise me we won’t have to be apart,” you whispered pleadingly, balling your hands into fists and tugging at his shirt, and he licked his lips for a second as he looked down.

“You know I’d never lie to you,” he breathed, and you bit your lip; his hands reached up and cradled your face.

“Just lie to me once,” you begged, “that we’ll always be together, please—”

He held your head and lifted it so he could kiss the height of your cheekbone, where a thin tear had begun to fall.  “We’ll find each other,” he promised instead, “someday, when we’re out of this place.  We’ll always find each other.”

In the morning, he saw you off from the front office, and you snapped off your paper ID band from your wrist to stuff into his pocket.  “So you remember me,” you explained.

“We won’t forget each other,” he promised.  “No matter what.  Certain people will always be in your life… no matter how long you go without seeing each other.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I-I heard that in a movie one time,” he admitted with a shrug.

“Is it true?” you wondered.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

xx

“Do we have the ingredients for paprikash?” you wondered, and George narrowed his eyes as he opened the pantry.  

“Well, we don’t have paprika…” he noticed.  “So I guess it would just be ‘sh’.”

You snorted, ducking your head down into the opened fridge.  “Oh!  I could make beef stroganoff!  Except, erm, with… pork.  Or tuna.”

You both perked up at a knock at the door.  “Pork sounds great,” he agreed as he started to walk away, “I’ll get it.”

There was another rapid succession of knocks before George could get there, and you started getting pots and ingredients out for dinner.

“We’re not giving you money or anything,” George announced firmly when he opened the door; you figured it was someone raising for a political cause or maybe even a religion when you heard that.

“I-is she home?” you heard a meek voice ask in reply.

“Mate, whoever you’re looking for isn’t here—” George began, but you were already running out of the kitchen and tumbling towards the door.  

You knew you must have lit up when you saw Billy standing there on your welcome mat; he had on a soft grey hoodie, with the sleeves pulled up around his hands— one of which was held to his mouth to gnaw on his thumb nail.  That hand fell quickly and his lips curled into a gentle smile as he saw you.  “I knew you’d come,” you announced as you ran to him, pulling into a quick but tight hug.  There was a bit more colour to his face, more brightness in his eyes as he looked down at you when you pulled away, arms still draped lazily over his shoulders while his hands gently held your back.

“Course I had to,” he smiled at you, “said I would, wouldn’t I?”

You realised you were still holding him and pulled away, facing George who seemed to be catching on.  “Y-you remember I said I’d visited a friend in hospital?” you prompted, and George nodded, looking a little embarrassed that he’d reacted to Billy that way. 

“Sorry, mate,” George offered Billy a handshake; Billy seemed a little uncomfortable with it, but shook your fiancé’s hand politely.

“I’m just starting dinner,” you announced, “you could help me, if you wanted?  Give George a break from sous chef duty?  O-or just wait, I’m sure you’re tired—”

“I’ll help,” Billy decided, “f’that’s alright.”

“Of course,” you hummed, and you and George stepped back to let him in.  He toed his sneakers off, looking around the house with wide eyes.

“Nice place,” he noticed while George shut the door.  “Wow, look’t that…”

“Y-yeah, it’s George’s place, really,” you admitted, “but I did some of the decorating.”

“Who painted that?” he wondered as he pointed at the oil painting in the foyer.

“Oh, that was a gift from a client,” George explained, looking at it with crossed arms.  “It’s an original Lebo, he’s the next big thing, up-and-comer in the Miami art scene…”

“Miami?  Like California?” Billy wondered.

You giggled a little bit as George made that face he made when he was trying not to be condescending.  “Er… Miami, Florida.”

“Eh?  Coulda sworn Miami was a place in California,” Billy frowned, wiping under his nose quickly a few times; he always did that, but you could tell by the way he did it that he was nervous.  You bit your lip as you looked at George, willing him with your mind to not think less of Billy for questionable geography skills— you hadn’t told him everything about this friend of yours who was in hospital, just that you knew each other as teenagers and that he was a kind and gentle person.  If George really understood all Billy had been through, you’d hope he wouldn’t be judgemental; but it wasn’t your story to tell.

“Listen, you two get to cooking and I’m gonna get some work done?"  It wasn't a question but George raised the tone of his voice at the end like it was one.  "Come up if you need anything."

Billy gave you a slightly shy look as George disappeared up the stairs with heavy footsteps.  “If you slice the mushrooms I’m gonna start cooking the pork,” you explained.

He nodded as you opened the knife drawer for him and he took out a small one to begin cutting on the bamboo slate you’d already set out.  “Been a while since somebody let me handle sharp objects,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“Oh, if you don’t want to, I can—”

“No, it’s fine,” he promised, shaking his head.  “I can handle it.  Only ever hurt myself on accident doing wood carving.”

“You still carve?” you realised excitedly, and he nodded.  “I remember you spent ages trying to get them to let you do it in the facility.”

“Yeah, that took some persistence,” he recalled with a grin.  “I was stuck doing regular arts and crafts for the first… six months?  Lots of papier-mâché.”

You snorted at the memory.  “In the girls’ wing we did a lot of ‘inspiration boards’...”

“Oh, Christ,” Billy laughed, “not the bloody inspiration boards.  Hated those— as if anything you can find in an old magazine’s going to inspire you to not be fuckin’ mental.”

You laughed, and as you focused on preparing ingredients, the conversation lulled for a moment.  Billy eventually, gently, broke the silence.

“S-sorry for how I was before, at the hospital,” he mumbled.  “I was still pretty out of it, but I was so happy to see you.”

“Oh, you were fine,” you promised, “I know what it’s like to be hopped up on painkillers.”

He gave you a look with a raised eyebrow, and you shook your head.  

“Don’t worry— distant memory.”

“But you’re, uh… you’re still on something?” he broached the topic carefully.

“Yeah,” you nodded.  “Ziprasidone, forty miligrams twice a day.  And, you know, some escitalopram as needed, but that’s nothing.”

“And the side effects aren’t too bad?” he pressed.  “My tics got worse no matter what I was on.”

“Well, there are some,” you admitted, “but not that bad once I got the dosage right.  It’s worth it.”

He nodded, reaching up with the hand that wasn’t holding the knife to wipe his fist under his nose quickly.  You knew what the silence meant, you knew he wanted to believe you but was worried how it would feel to be medicated; he’d had so much trouble with it, having gone through his share of prescriptions— actually, he’d gone through his and three other people’s shares.  You could only imagine how much trouble he’d had staying on pills if he couldn’t even afford them.

“You’ll stay on what the hospital sent you home with, right?” you asked quietly.

“Y-yeah, of course,” he shrugged, “as long as it doesn’t, you know, make me feel horribly sick or something.”

“You can’t go off of them just because you’ve got dry eyes or nausea, though,” you frowned.

“Obviously!” he scoffed.  “I… I really wanna get better this time, for good.  But, um… it’s hard, with my brother…”

You nodded, but didn’t say anything else, focusing mostly on stirring the meat around the hot pan as it sizzled.

“Malibu!” he said suddenly.

“Hm?” you turned to him, eyebrows knitted together, and he suddenly looked a bit embarrassed.

“I— I was thinking of Malibu… before…” he mumbled as he trailed off.  “Malibu, California.”

You grinned wide, watching him reach up to wipe the back of his hand, covered with his jacket’s sleeve, over his face quickly.  "How are you feeling?" you asked.  "After the injury."

"Not so bad," he answered, "it still gets a little sore sometimes, especially at night with the pain meds wear off, but it's not that bad."

"You're so tough," you shook your head.  "Got stabbed a few days ago and you're just walking it off."

"I got lucky," he explained, "it didn't hit anything important.  Mostly I'm just hoping it’ll turn into a cool scar.” 

He looked at you with a little smirk and it warmed your heart.  

“People say scars are attractive," he continued, "but… they only mean the ones on the outside.”

You sighed, knowing how true that was— it took you long enough to find someone like George, who stuck with you even though you had so much you still struggled with.  “Can I see it?” you asked, hoping not to get too deep into the other topic.

Billy nodded and lifted his shirt, exposing more and more pale skin, until the fabric was gathered up to his shoulder and you could see the sewn wound right at the centre of his chest.  You gasped, reaching to cover your mouth first as you realised it was much worse than you imagined before; and then you found yourself reaching out to touch him, though you should’ve asked permission first (yet he didn’t make a move to stop you, he didn’t even seem all that surprised).

Your fingers gently trailed around the marks, and it was like you could feel how much it must have hurt— the stitches and the stabbing; your heart ached for him, as always.  “Billy,” you whispered under your breath, shocked at all he’d survived.

For a moment, you found your touch trailing further, brushing over the thin layer of hair on his chest.  It was new, after all, since the last time you’d touched him there— he was only a boy then, a bit scrawny and lanky, and while he was still on the lean side now, this was clearly a man’s body.  A man who had been through so much; a man that the world had tried so hard to harden and callus and break, but he was still so soft and delicate.

Your fingertips were still tracing his skin when your eyes finally met his, and the look in them penetrated you.  Knowing you should pull away, you started to move your hand back, but he grabbed it and pulled it to him— he pressed it flat and firm to his chest, squeezing your fingers, letting you feel his heartbeat beneath.

It didn’t feel like you were doing anything wrong, until you both heard George’s steps coming around the corner and jumped away from each other quickly; Billy tugged his shirt down, wiping under his nose as he cleared his throat, you did a bit of a better job of acting natural.

“How’s dinner coming along?” George wondered.

“Oh, well,” you smiled. “S’nice to catch up a little.” You cast Billy a small smile, hoping to connect his glance, but his eyes were down, his focus back on his task. It nearly seemed as if he were ashamed of almost getting caught. 

“How’s it you know each other again?” George asked. “She’s got so many little friends, it’s hard to keep track.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, and you almost answered, but Billy’s inhale made you realise that the question wasn’t aimed at you. “When we were kids,” Billy started. “Not kids, really, I guess, but… when we were younger, we were at a-a facility together. Not for very long, but…” he trailed off for a moment, getting a slightly glassy look in his eyes. Finally, he simply added, “We grew close.” 

“That’s good,” George said. “And you’ve just gotten out of hospital?” 

“Erm, yeah—”

“What happened?”

There was a split second where the question hung in the air, and you could feel Billy’s energy change. He obviously wasn't ready to talk about it.

"Why don't you set the table, Georgie?" you requested without turning around. Your face burned, and you cleared your throat as you tried to dampen down the flames in your cheeks. “Make yourself useful,” you added with a light laugh, almost jumping a little when his hands rested on your arms as he leaned in to kiss by your ear.

“Anything for you,” George said, his voice a little quiet, like he didn’t want Billy to hear, and the kitchen fell into silence as George gathered the utensils and left the kitchen.

The kitchen was only quiet for a moment more, the sizzling of the pork dying down a bit, before Billy, with a smirk, noticed, "Bit posh, isn't'e?"

"Shut up," you giggled, pushing Billy's shoulder.

“Never thought you’d go for someone like that,” Billy admitted lightly. You could tell he was still trying to make it a joke, but the joke was obviously falling a little flat; you could feel the anxious energy radiating off of him.  “B-but I’m glad you’re happy.” 

“How about you?” you asked, and you found yourself biting your lip as you spooned the mix of meat and veg onto three plates. “Any girls strike your fancy?”

“Ah,” Billy started, and he shook his head. “No. You know me, though, that’s never been my nature, really…” 

“I used to know you,” you said, and Billy cast his big dark eyes at you.  You hadn’t meant to be so blunt about it, and you quickly added, “but I imagine you haven’t changed all that much, eh?”

“I guess not,” Billy mumbled, and you wondered if that hadn’t really helped to add— if that was what he was afraid of, not changing.  But you never found anything to dislike in Billy all those years ago, even if you were still fighting the urge to resent him a bit for never calling after he promised to.  You trusted that you’d find each other again someday— and most of the time, with him here, it felt like no time had passed at all— but you’d hurt for a while, wondering if you did something wrong… if he never really loved you.

And, of course, time had passed.  You remembered that every time you looked down at your hands and saw the ring on your finger; every time you glanced over your shoulder and saw George setting the table.

I waited for you for so long, Billy— couldn’t you have let me find you sooner?

xx

Dinner was… quiet.  Not exactly tense, but not not tense.  You could all pretend your mouths were just so full of stroganoff that you couldn’t say much, but really, there wasn’t much to say.  

Actually, there was a lot to say— you and Billy wanted to talk, but you both must’ve felt strange about it with George there, and in turn, George probably didn’t want to talk to you how he normally did with Billy there.

"So, Billy," George prompted, clearing his throat after a long pause, "what do you do?"

"E-er…"

"For work?"

"Sort of between jobs at the moment," Billy admitted.  "It's hard for me to work with… my condition…"

"Right," George frowned, and you lightly kicked him under the table.  “W-well, we’re just—” he rushed to try to appease you, “glad you’re alright.  After what happened.”

You caught Billy’s lips pressing together, and you knew he was trying not to smile at the wrong time.  Maybe it was the use of we that amused him; maybe it was the idea that Billy was ‘alright’ after everything.

“Do you have a place to stay?” you asked suddenly, and Billy stopped chewing to look at you with wide eyes.  You felt George’s glare land on you, he already knew you were going to offer Billy anything no matter how misguided it might seem.

“Erm… well, no, but—” Billy began.

“There’s our couch,” you noticed.  “You should stay here tonight.”

“I— I couldn’t let you do that,” he insisted, rubbing his fist under his nose. “I-I couldn’t—”

You rested your hand on his shoulder, and he stilled for a moment as he blinked at you.  “It’s the least we could do.”

xx

“I don’t want him here,” George said sternly the moment he’d gotten you alone.  “He’s obviously unstable, he needs real help—”

“Listen to me,” you pleaded, “he’s got a three-week prescription from the hospital, he just needs to get used to the new meds.”

“I know you wanna think you can save everyone,” your fiancé sighed, sounding so exhausted with you, “but you need to think about your own safety.  He’s not well and he’s… inappropriately attached to you.”

“Inappropriate?” you repeated.

“A grown man has no reason to stake his sanity on someone he met in hospital,” George hissed, “as a child.”

You laughed in frustration as you shook your head.

“Oh, don’t do that,” he warned, “don’t act like I’m ridiculous for not wanting a strange man on my couch.  That’s an expensive couch.”

“Well shit, George, he’s not a dog, he’s not gonna piss on it or something!” you scoffed.  “And he’s not strange, either.”

“He is to me.”

“But I know him, and you know me,” you explained, “can’t you trust my judgement?”

“It’s my house, I have the right if I don’t want him—” George began.

“It’s my house, too,” you hissed, lowering your voice as you stepped closer to him, “and you brought her here— you brought her in our bed, didn’t you?  So what’s that compared to my friend on the couch?”

“Oh, Christ,” he spat, “I knew you’d bring that up, again, when you said you’d forgiven me—”

“I did!” you insisted.  “But you’re being a fucking hypocrite!  Just admit that you don’t trust me— when I’m the one who shouldn’t trust you.”

“We should both trust each other,” he corrected.

“You should stop treating me like a guest here,” you replied, raising your voice, “like I’m just some charity case and not the woman you asked to move in and asked to marry you—”

“You always do this,” George shook his head, looking beyond irritated with you.

“And now you take issue with my friend?”

“He’s not your friend,” George spat, “he’s here because he’s mental and broke and horny, probably.”

“What?!”

“Oh, come on, darling, don’t be so stupid,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.  “He wants to shag you!”

“I can’t believe you,” you scoffed as you stormed out, only to stop halfway down the hall when you found Billy, looking shivery and uncomfortable with his arms crossed around himself.  “O-oh, Billy, I—”

“S’just lookin’ for some sheets…” he mumbled, looking down, and you knew he must have heard you arguing.  

“They’re down here, let me get them for you,” you offered as you opened the door to the linen closet, but he stepped back nervously.  

“I-is everything alright?” Billy asked you tenderly, and your heart ached.

“Yes,” you sighed, “it’s fine, he just—”

“Oh god,” Billy whimpered, knowing you were lying, “v’done it again, haven’t I?  Fucked everything up.”

“No,” you sighed, “no— you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t want to make it harder for you,” he choked, covering his face with his hands.  “You got better!  You’re normal!  And I’m making it worse, I’m… dragging you back down.  It’s just why I never called!”

You rushed forward, holding his wrists tightly even as he struggled for a second.  “Billy, look at me,” you pleaded.  “Look, I need to see your eyes.”

He relaxed and let you move his fists out of the way so you could see his wet, quivering face.

“You don’t make anything worse,” you promised.  

Just as he started to melt into your touch, and your fingers slid up to interlace with his, you heard George come through the door and huff at the sight.  He said your name sternly, and you turned around, giving Billy’s hand a squeeze before you let go.

“I was just helping him find the sheets,” you explained, already knowing what George wanted to say.

“Won’t need them— he’s not staying here,” your fiancé insisted.

“No, George, don’t—” you started to protest, but Billy was already shrinking away.  “Billy, please don’t go—”

As you watched Billy start to run out, George held you back and stopped you from chasing after him.  “He needs to leave,” George insisted, and he was much too strong— your fight was useless.

“Let me go!” you whimpered, but he didn’t, not even after you heard the front door slam, not even after your rage fell into exhaustion and you started to cry.

“Better this way,” George promised, “trust me.  We need to trust each other.”

He kept saying that, a convenient quote from your couple’s therapist manipulated to apply to kicking out your oldest friend— and first love.  “He just needs help, Georgie,” you whimpered as the restraint turned into a gentler sort of embrace, with soft kisses and shushes beside your ear.

“You can’t help everyone,” he explained, “you should just worry about yourself— God knows you’ve got plenty to worry about… we can’t have you getting bad again.”

That was what he called it when you had an episode, as rare as they were now, bad.  You had to remind yourself that it didn’t make you bad for struggling.

It’s so scary when you’re having bad thoughts, but you’re not bad, you remembered telling Billy just a few days ago.

“I-I wanna get ready for bed now,” you decided quietly.

“Okay,” George whispered, and only then did he let you go, after one more kiss to your cheek.  “See you in bed.”

It’s hard to say if you knew for sure, then, that you weren’t going to get ready for bed— you felt like you were in a dream, or a trance, as George left you in the hallway only for you to instead put on your shoes and walk out the front door.  

xx

“Can’t believe I found you,” you gasped as you threw yourself onto Billy, not even stepping inside first.  He reciprocated the hug instantly, burying his face in your shoulder.  “Don’t ever run from me like that again, please…”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Billy promised softly.  “Just tell me you’re okay,” he pleaded as he held you tighter.

“I’m okay,” you promised.

“I— I heard him yelling at you,” he admitted.  “I was so afraid he would hurt you— he didn’t hurt you, did ‘e?”

You smiled a little as Billy pulled back enough to examine your face closely, looking for marks.  “He didn’t hit me,” you assured, “he wouldn’t— he’s not like that.”

“Good,” Billy nodded, “good— if he did, I— well, I shouldn’t say something like that.  But I would be really fucking angry.”

But felt his hands tighten into fists at your waist, and you knew what he was imagining.

“How’d you find this place?” Billy wondered as he stepped back and let you in, shutting the flat’s front door behind you.

“Called back your old friend, Mr. Strike,” you smirked.  “He had a few leads.”

“I’m sorry for leaving like that,” he sighed, “I was just—”

“I know,” you interrupted quickly.

"There's something I have for you," he said suddenly.  You waited with a tilted head as he knelt down by his backpack, propped up against the wall, unzipping it and pulling something out.

A carving on a panel of wood, rough and unpolished but careful crafted: it was the creek, that very one behind Oak Hill.  The bent tree, the rocks by the shore, the sun a big divot as it sank down behind the jagged treeline.

As he held it in front of you, you ran your fingers over the edges in awe; "It's just how I remember," you sighed.

"C-careful, splinters," Billy warned, reaching for your hand and grabbing it tightly.  You looked at him, knowing you were already crying, heart breaking at the look on his face.

"You really carved this for me?" you whispered, and he nodded.  "When?"

"Ten years ago," he replied, "but that was just the first one.  This one— this one I did before I came to see you for dinner."

You looked at it again, then at him with a tilted head.  "You did more than one?"

"I-I've done about… about a hundred, maybe more," he explained.  "I kept trying to make it perfect, but I couldn't always— sometimes I messed up, so I'd start again.  I wanted it to look exactly like it did then."

You looked down at the carving one more time, seeing the detail, and imagining every change he made over the years to accomplish it.

"I just couldn't remember it right," he explained, scratching beside his ear, "u-until I saw you again.  Then it was like it was all there… I finally got it right."

“Billy, it’s amazing,” you promised, whispering as you fought back the urge to cry, “you’re amazing…”

As you trailed off, he suddenly asked: “Do you still love me?”

“Of course,” you answered, faster than you could worry about being self-conscious about it.  “Always— of course I do.”

“But… you can’t love me the way I thought you did,” he breathed.  “You can’t love me the— the way I love you.”

“A-and what way is that?” you wondered.

“Every way.”

You sighed, shivering as he stepped closer, each of his hands resting on your shoulders.  His touch on your bare skin was still so… much.

“You’re gonna marry him,” he reminded you both, “and it’s better that way.  You’re better off with someone you don’t have to take care of all the time.”

"I'd rather take care of you," you admitted, eyes welling with tears, "I'd rather have you, Billy, I just didn't think you still cared for me—"

"I said I always would," he interjected, "I meant that— c'mon, v'never really loved anyone but you, don't you know that?"

You smiled a little as you looked down.

"B-but that's not my point, you shouldn't be with me," he insisted.

"I want to be with you, Billy."

“What about when I have bad days?”

“I have bad days too,” you reminded him.

“Yeah!  And what if I can’t take care of you, ‘cause I’m too messed up?” he wondered.  "I still— I still see things, you know.  I mean, not since hospital, but—"

"It'll be okay," you promised.  "We'll be okay, we'll have each other.  I can't heal you, Billy, I can't save you— but I can be here when you need me."

“You can’t leave him for me.  I can’t let you throw your life away for me.”

“If he doesn’t understand you, then he doesn’t understand me either,” you explained.

He was shaking his head, looking down, but you held his cheeks and lifted his face.  “I love you,” you reminded him, but he kept looking down, tears striping his face.

"Billy," you whispered, making him look at you softly.  "Kiss me again.  Please."

He did: tender and patient, just as delicate as the first time so many years ago.  As you kissed him back, holding tightly onto his shoulders, he carefully reached for your waist and pulled you closer.  Being pressed against him was so comforting and warm; being wrapped in his arms and pulled into bed felt so right.

He mumbled something about how his brother wouldn’t be home ‘til morning, and you just nodded, not wanting to break away from the kiss any longer.

xx

You woke up to fingers tracing along your back aimlessly, and you hummed, clinging tighter onto the pillow under your head. 

“Sorry,” Billy whispered, “wasn’t trying to wake you up…”

“S’okay,” you mumbled, feeling kisses trail your shoulder next.  When you blinked open your eyes, you saw his hand— a bandage still around one of the knuckles, small bruises and cuts here and there— run down your arm to hold your hand and give it a squeeze.  

He pressed himself up to your back, embracing you tightly again, resting his face in the crook of your neck.  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.  “Tell me it’s real— that you’re real.”

“Of course I am,” you laughed softly.

“Just seems too good to be true,” he admitted quietly.  “You show up at my door and tell me you wanna be with me instead of him, that you love me, I— I sort of imagined it before, if m’bein’ honest.  Definitely imagined this…”

You giggled as his hand slipped under the sheets to run up your bare thigh, the memories of last night’s lovemaking imprinted into the soreness of your skin— everywhere he’d held you tightly, like he was afraid you’d run off and disappear if he let go.  Bruises were likely blooming already in the shape of his touch, but you didn’t mind it; it was exactly what he’d feared, that he wouldn’t know how to love you without hurting you, but all you’d ever wanted was the ecstasy and the pain of sharing everything with someone.

Billy pulled you closer still, helping you turn so you could press your forehead to his.  “I’ll never run away from you again,” he promised quietly.  

“I’ll never let you again,” you returned, making you both giggle as he peppered your face in kisses.  As you reached up, he felt your ring brush over his skin, and he grabbed your hand to hold it up where you could both look at it. 

Delicately, he slipped the engagement ring from your finger, and examined it.  “Well,” he frowned, “we can chuck this, then—” and threw it over his shoulder.  You laughed as it fell to the floor with a quick ping! and he kissed you again before you could protest to his flippancy.

“Billy, you shouldn’t—” you still tried to get out with his lips overwhelming yours, but he hummed and rolled you onto your back so he could climb on top of you.

“I’ll get you a new one,” he decided softly, “when I can afford it.  Won’t be as nice, but—”

“It’ll be perfect,” you smiled.

#this fic is so personal for me wow #billy knight x reader #billy knight #billy knight strike

[kaylinlmao]

The black phone Can you make one with the reader with social anxiety/depression

Hi! Long time no see! This is fic #1 in my new years event.

New update on my fic writing! In every single fic I write, Reader will be 17 and all TBP boys will be 18. If in the fic they are in high school, both reader and all TBP boys will be in their senior year. This will apply to all fics I write, even if they're not with the TBP boys, unless I specify otherwise. When I do fics, I will usually do them in 1st or 3rd person. With headcannons, I will do them in 2nd person. So keep that in mind while requesting! Hope you enjoy!

Of course I will do this request! I was scrolling through my requests and saw this one. I also suffer from social anxiety and depression so hopefully I got this one! I'm going to do these as slight yandere but seperate headcannons. I also hc that Finn speaks fluent French so from now on. Boom. You're welcome. All of these specific headcannons will end the same with TBP boy saying I love you with the nickname I think they'd call you. Cool? Cool. Meanings behind the nicknames. Robin and Finney's are pretty self explanatory. Bruce's is because I guarantee you he cracks jokes about you being his little cheerleader. Vance is because I'm sure some of us are short.

Slight Yandere!Ghost Boys x Reader who suffers from social anxiety and depression (separate headcannons)

Finney Blake

He was walking you to the library so that he could tutor Robin and you could read until he was done, just like every other day. The halls were very crowded and you began to get overwhelmed.

You started to get self conscious, feeling as though everyone's eyes were on you. Which, of course, wasn't true. But in the moment, that's what it felt like.

It began to get harder to breath. It felt like you were suffocating.

Now, Finn began to notice something was wrong. He didn't know about your social anxiety and depression. Although he did have his suspicions.

"Are you ok, sweet girl?" He asked you, reaching your hand and squeezing lightly. You smiled a big (fake) smile. "Oh, yeah! I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" He saw right through you and you knew it.

He pulled you into the broom closet that was right next to you both. "What's wrong?" "Nothing!" "What's. Wrong?" 'Finn, I said it was nothing!" "Y/N!" "What?!" "Listen, please. Just tell me what's wrong." "Just, feeling a bit stressed." He gave you a disbelieving look.

He pulled you onto his lap so you're straddling him. "Please, little one. What's wrong?" With a little touch on your thigh and the look in his eyes, like he cared. You finally cracked and told him about how you felt. He asked you very specific questions about who makes you feel stressed and sad. Then, those people didn't come to school the next day. You knew. But you were too in love with him to care.

"Thank you for telling me." "Thank you for listening."

"I love you, ma petite fille de l’espace" "I love you too, Finn."

ma petite fille de l’espace: my little space girl

Robin Arellano

He never noticed that you acted different than others until you did something strange during your presentation in History class. You felt everyone's eyes on you and began to freak out, almost having a panic attack before locking eyes with Robin. You took a deep breath and made it through the presentation.

"What was that about?" He asked you while you were in the gym. It was after school and Robin was boxing while you drew in your sketchpad. "What was what about, Robin?" "The presentation thingy in history today. You kinda freaked out, y'know?" "No, I don't know. I'm literally fine. It was all fine."

But he wouldn't let it go. After paying more attention, he noticed that you gripped his hand tighter in the cafeteria and in the halls, in public in general. And that some days, you would come to school super sad. So, he went and did some research and found that a lot of the things you did match the symptoms for depression and social anxiety. He was offended that you didn't tell him. But. Oh shit! Maybe you didn't know! He has to tell you so you can both work on it together.

So, he went to your house that afternoon and sat you down to talk about it. "I did some research. And I think you have social anxiety and depression. But don't worry! I'll help you." The look on your face wasn't of worry. It was of acceptance. Acceptance that now that Robin knew, he'd leave you. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I didn't want you to leave me. I know I'm broken but please don't leave." You said, starting to sob.

"Oh, princesa. You really think I'd let you leave me. Never. You're mine forever. I'll love you even if you were the ugliest person in the world. Which you aren't. You're the most gorgeous girl I've ever met." "So you're not gonna leave me?" "I wouldn't let you leave, much less leave you myself. You're mine, Y/N." He said, pulling you down onto the bed and giving you a kiss. Wrapping his arms around you, you were hugging him like a koala. Legs around his waist and arms around his neck as he lay on the bed, smiling at you.

"I love you, mi princesita." "I love you too, Robin."

princesa: princess

hermosa: beautiful

mi princesita: my little princess

A/N: I'm sorry if I get any translations wrong. I used Google so. My apologies.

Bruce Yamada

You went to his championship baseball game to support him and everything was going great! You were cheering on the sidelines. I mean, he doesn't call you his little cheerleader for nothing.

But the loud screams your brother was yelling was making you nervous. You felt as though everyone was looking towards you and your brother. You're brother, of course, didn't give a flying fuck.

But you did. It was stressing you the fuck out. Your palms were sweaty, heart beating quickly, breathing sped up.

And you were like that until the game was over. By the time the buzzer went off, you were having a full blown panic attack. But you couldn't bring yourself to leave. He won! You had to support him like he supports you.

"GOOD JOB BRUCE!" Your brother screams. Never mind. Fuck this. You stood up quickly, dropping all the things on your lap. "Where are you going?" Your brother asks. "Bathroom." You run to the bathroom to calm yourself down when you hear the doorknob rattle. You try to calm your loud breaths and heaving chest.

"Y/N, sweetheart. Are you in here?" You hear your boyfriend ask. "Yeah! Just, fixing my makeup!" "Well, we won!" "I know! I heard." "Are you sure you're ok? You sound a little off." "I'm fine, Bruce"

You heard him walk away, leave for about 5 minutes and come back. Then the lock on the door opened and in he walked.

"Darling why're you crying?" "Just a little anxious." "You can talk to me. Please tell me what's wrong." After 15 minutes of him prying, you finally told him. "Why didn't you tell me? I would've helped you through it!" "I didn't want you to look at me different." "I wouldn't look at you different. Everyone has problems."

"I love you, my little cheerleader." "I love you too, B."

Vance Hopper

You were at the Grab N Go while Vance was playing pinball. You turned to walk to get a soda when you heard a loud crash.

"Vance!" You said, dropping your soda and running over to Vance, who was punching a guy in the face. "Stop! What is wrong with you?!' Everyone was looking at you. Why were they looking at you. Oh shit. You yelled at Vance.

You ran out of the gas station and ran home, in the middle of a panic attack. Not because you were scared of Vance. You weren't at all. You didn't like all the people watching you.

As you walked in your room, you heard your window sliding open.

It was Vance. "What the fuck was that? Why'd you run out like that?" As he started bombarding you with questions, you started to get stressed out.

"Vance, I struggle with social anxiety and depression. I love you but please, stop yelling at me." He was quiet for a minute and did nothing.

You walk over to Vance and you give him a hug. Not for him, but because you needed one. Even if he didn't like them.

To your surprise, he hugged you back.

"I love you, my shorty." "I love you too, V."

Billy Showalter

You were at the skatepark with your boyfriend, Billy. You were a little embarrassed because you weren't the best at skating. But Billy was good at rollar skating and he wanted to teach you.

You didn't know how. Let's just say, you sucked.

As you fell for the 5th time, you stood up and skated off. Terribly. You pulled the skates off and ran to the bathroom as Billy was right behind you.

He walked in the bathroom with you, locking the door behind him. "What's wrong, pretty girl?" "I can't do it, Bill! I suck!" "No you don't. You just haven't learned how yet. You'll get better!"

"No I won't! Everyone was watching me and-" Billy stood shocked as you started to cry. I mean, he knew you were human, but he's never seen you cry. You were the type of person to crack a joke in sad times. Like either laugh or cry type of person. (Me)

"Oh baby doll." Billy said, scooping you up and holding you like a baby. You just cried into his shoulder. You don't know how long you cried. It could've been for 5 minutes, it could've been for hours but when you stopped, Billy waited for you to be ready to talk.

"Bill?" "Yeah?" "I have social anxiety and depression. Its why I walked off and gave up. I felt embarrassed that I kept falling." "It's ok. Nobody is watching you. They're focusing on themselves. Not you." "Ok." You said with a sniffle.

"I love you, joker." "I love you too, Bill."

This was three days late, I know. I'm sorry but look how long this monster is!

Love y'all! :) -Kaylin

Fic #1 out of #23.

#yandere finney x robin x reader #finney x robin x reader #finney blake x reader #finney x reader #finbin #finney blake #yandere robin arellano #robin arellano x reader #robin arellano #yandere billy showalter #billy showalter x reader #billy showalter #yandere bruce yamada #bruce x vance #bruce yamada x reader #bruce yamada #brance #yandere vance hopper #yandere the black phone x reader #yandere the black phone #the black phone x reader #the black phone

[my-soupy-brain]

I can already imagine myself going absolutely CRAZY for Ted’s cologne after hugging him for the first time. I just know he smells GOOD.

Oh yeah, that man smells soooo good. Guaranteed. I love this! I think about it all the time myself. Let's gooo!

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Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warnings: Lustville + light smut?

---

You'd been working at the Richmond club for about a month, and you were starting to fall into a rhythm with everyone.

Roy was gruff but loyal. Higgins was a ray of sunshine. Rebecca was admirable - tough and driven. Trent was a sweetheart, though was still trying to warm up to being part of the club while he worked on his book.

And your time as an employee meant you got invited to nights out at the pub for pints.

Music turned up, everyone laughing and having a good time. You loved hearing Coach Beard and Coach Lasso tell stories from back home. Their history is all-encompassing and they've got so much to share.

Your eyes always traveled to Ted's when he talked. Whether at work or at the pub.

He is so...handsome. Those dark hazel eyes always revealed every emotion he had. His hair perfectly styled. His sleeves always rolled up revealing muscular forearms.

You'd gotten friendly with Ted. A couple of lunches off campus and coffee in the morning -- his presence always made you smile when you got a chance to be around him.

And he made your heart pitter-patter like mad.

At the end of one night at the pub, a long weekend is approaching and you're opting to walk home. You hug Keeley and Rebecca, and even Beard pats you on the back.

"C'mon, I need one of those," Ted jokes with his arms open. You hug him tight and...

Ohhhh... that cologne.

You'd noticed it before, faintly. When he passes you in the hall. When you're standing close. But to have your nose nestled against his neck you can really take in the spicy, woodsy, masculine scent.

When you step back, your eyes are a little starry.

"Ya okay there?" Ted asks. "Looks like the cat got your tongue!"

You smile and giggle, obviously blushing. "I'm OK. I'll see y'all later. Have a great long weekend!"

You turn to walk out the door and as you do, Ted's eyes follow you. A slight smile on his lips.

He'd be lying if he wasn't sad about the long weekend. An extra two days where he won't get to see your smile, hear your laugh, watch how you lick your lips after your first sip of coffee.

When you make it home, you sit on the sofa with a big sigh. Ted's cologne is burned into your brain. How his big hands splayed on your back when he hugged you. How his eyes looked so dreamy when he said goodnight.

So you're shocked when two days into your long weekend, watching a movie on your couch with a glass of wine, that there's a knock on your door.

Living alone in a city like London makes you worry immediately. You get up and tip toe toward the door.

"Y'in there? It's Ted," you hear his familiar drawl through the door. Your heart leaps to your chest.

When you open the door, he's standing with his hands in his pockets, his hair flopped over his forehead. His eyes look...tired.

"Ted, my goodness! Are you OK?" you ask. "Come in, come in. It's cold out there."

Ted nods and steps into the entryway, his cheeks a pink hue from the temperature change.

He stands quietly for a moment, and you take the initiative to hold his hand and lead him to your couch.

"Tell me what's going on, Ted. You don't look yourself," you start, a voice gentle.

He tries to muster a smile and lets out a heavy sigh. You see his broad shoulders slump.

"Just havin' a rough time these last couple days," he admits. "I didn't know where to go. Beard's with Jane, and I just couldn't stand behin' alone with all this stuff rollin' around my brain."

You move closer, putting your arm around him and trying to bat away the smile from his cologne in your orbit again.

"I'm happy to help, Ted. Why don't you tell me what's going on? And while I do that, would you like a glass of wine? Whiskey? Water?"

He smiles. "You've got all the Ws I like."

You smile in return. "Wine sounds good, thank you."

When you get back to the couch, he takes a sip and start to unwind his brain. Henry being far away. His divorce weighing on him like a failure. The team struggling to get up in the rankings.

You nod and grab his hand.

"All of that is hard. That's a lot, Ted. And it's OK to fall apart about it. That's the human thing to do," you say quietly. His eyes kind and grateful. "But you're trying your best. Henry knows that. And your divorce isn't a failure, it's just letting go of something that didn't work. It's a closed chapter."

"And as for the team, regardless of the rankings, that group of guy sis better because you've given them a better outlook on the game and on life. That can't be denied. That's winning, to me."

He smiles at this, sitting back on the couch a little more, putting his arm around you as you snuggle into him.

"I knew there was a reason you're my favorite person there," he mumbles, his hand stroking your shoulder. "One of my favorite people in the world, really."

You look up at him and smile. "You're one of my favorite people too, Ted."

You sit in silence for a moment. "I'm going to get another little glass of wine, can I top you off?"

Ted nods, handing you his glass. But when you get to the kitchen, he's followed you.

"Ya got a lovely little place here. It's so very you," he says, his hands in his pockets as he strolls closer. Your heart flutters, his scent nearing.

"Thank you. I've tried to make it my own."

He looks around and smiles.

"Thank you for your help and your kindness. And just being you," he says quietly with a low voice. "Another hug?"

You accept happily. Any way to be in his arms again.

When you hug, his hands hold you lower on your back, his face buried in your neck. Your hand goes to his hair to caress it and comfort him. When you pull apart, his big eyes look into yours, then at your lips, then back at you.

And that's all it takes.

Your lips meet, he holds you tenderly, and your body turns into jelly right then and there.

When one of his warm, big hands cups your face to kiss you deeper you let a small moan escape against your will. Your tongue runs against his lips, and he runs his against yours.

It's the best kiss you've ever had.

When you pull apart, your eyes are dreamy and hazy. You can't help but smile, biting your bottom lip.

"Wow," he murmurs. "I've wanted to do that more times than I can count."

You giggle at this. "Me, too." Your fingers caress his cheek and he keeps holding you close. He kisses again, deeper, passionate, his own moans escaping his lips. His lips move from yours to your neck, to your collarbone.

"Oh Ted," you moan, unable to stop yourself. "Feels good..."

He keeps going, leading back up to your lips. Your fingers run through his hair, holding him close. He spins you around, walking you both to the living room.

"Bedroom," you whisper, and he keeps moving through the apartment.

When he sits on the bed and drags your hips over his, straddling him, you lean against his neck, breathing in his scent.

"Ohhhhh," you murmur, before your lips even touch his skin.

His hands travel up and down your sides, keeping you on his lap.

"What was that sound for, sugar?" he asks lowly, kissing your shoulder.

"Your cologne..."

He pulls back and looks at you. "My cologne, huh? Didn't know you had a thing for Old Spice."

You smile and nod. "Neither did I but the first time I hugged you the other night, I thought I was gonna fall apart."

He chuckles, leans his nose against your neck, and breathes in your light perfume.

"Mmmmm..." he says, his hands still keeping you close.

"I barely have anything on, what could you possibly smell?"

He smiles. "Just you. You do have a scent, and I love it. Like spring flowers...and happiness..."

Your eyes connect and you smile, leaning in to kiss him gently.

"Stay the night?" you offer. "You don't have to, but I'd love if you did."

He smiles again, looking down at his lap where his excitement is obvious in his pants.

"I don't think I can walk, so that's probably for the best."

With that he ropes his arms around you to kiss you, pulling you both down into the bed.

---

That man smells so good and no one can change it. I'd be obsessed. I'd need like, a swatch of his smell all the time. Is that weird? Maybe. No regrets. Thanks for this prompt, friend!

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso smells good it's canon right?

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

The Eras | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! This is a short, silly little thing about the Ticketmaster fiasco the other day. If you were in that queue all day, I feel your pain. Seven hours of queuing for Houston. I know this fic is niche but I simply do not care <3 also, lemme know if you got tickets! And what you plan to wear to the show!

What’s your favorite track from Midnights?

Warnings: Ticketmaster 

“Any luck?” Bucky asked on the other end of the phone.

“Nope… still two thousand plus people ahead of me.” You poked at your sad lunch salad with your plastic fork, eyes glued to your laptop. “At least my boss is trying to get tickets too, that way I won’t get in trouble for getting nothing done today.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh, “I love that for you. And your boss. Is there-”

“It’s PAUSED?” you nearly threw your lunch across the room. “The queue is PAUSED!”

Bucky wasn’t accustomed to this new way of doing things. If he wanted to go to a show back in his day, he simply bought tickets at the venue. But this was a whole new beast. You had a plan, a strategy. The group text with Wanda and Nat fired constantly in the days leading up to the presale, turning your phone into a war room.

“What? Why is it paused?”

“It says it ‘should be back up and running shortly’,” you sighed, “and that to keep my place in line, I can’t refresh or close my browser.” The disappointed groan that pushed its way out of your throat broke Bucky’s heart. He heard you clicking and typing on the other end of the line, no doubt conferring with the group text.

“This kind of seems like a disaster…” He didn’t want to make things any worse than they already were, but he hated when you were upset. You’d looked forward to this- gotten your presale code, received boosts. And yet, you sat in a paused queue with no end in sight.

“Oh, it is. Ticketmaster is the worst.” You gave a harsh stab with your plastic fork and speared a piece of romaine, punctuating your sentence. “It’s owned by this company Live Nation- it’s basically a monopoly.”

“But you’re guaranteed tickets, right?” he asked, sounding almost on edge. “Cause you got the code thingy? That’s how this works, right? The code ensures that you get the tickets?”

“Nope. That’s just to get into the presale, but they don’t require a code to get in the queue, so… I’m not sure there’s even a point to those codes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the inefficient and deeply flawed system. “Oh. That’s… really annoying. And confusing. They should explain the rules better.”

You gave him a laugh, “yeah, well, all they care about is making money.”

Bucky could practically see you- sitting at your desk, shoulders slumped, lunch half eaten, computer stuck in a paused queue.  “I’m sorry, doll.”

You made a few more stabs at your wilted lettuce before giving it up all together. “And apparently ticket prices are nuts. Like, floor seats are selling for over a thousand dollars. My friend got seats in section C for the Dallas show, and he paid a thousand and twenty-eight dollars for each of them.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah…” you let out a sigh. “I’m so disappointed. I mean, I saw on Twitter that even nosebleeds are in the two-fifty range now. I know there’s way worse things in the world, but I was really looking forward to this- I’ve been saving for such a long time. I thought I was gonna get to see her in person, you know?” Bucky could hear the frown in your voice. “But between the queue and the prices, I just don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

“You never know, doll,” Bucky did his best to lighten the mood. “Don’t give up. Just keep the queue open on your computer and try to focus on other things, okay?”

You agreed to his terms and the two of you hung up, leaving you alone with your Ticketmaster nightmare.

That evening, Bucky waited by the door for you to come home. He stood so close, in fact, that you almost hit him with it. “Hey, baby! How was your day?” He was nearly vibrating with a strange energy you’d never seen from him before.

“It was terrible…” you sighed. “I was in the queue for seven hours. And when I finally got to the presale, tickets were unfathomably expensive. Even if I could afford them, every seat I picked disappeared. I got constant error notices and never even got one single ticket into my cart. It sucked.”

Bucky gave you a tight squeeze, so tight you could hardly breathe. “That’s terrible, doll. I’m so sorry you didn’t get tickets…” He released you suddenly, allowing your chest to expand. “But I’m actually glad you didn’t buy any.”

His words came as a surprise. He was always supportive, no matter how silly your venture. He knew how badly you wanted to go to the concert- why he celebrated your defeat was unknown.

“Oh. That’s…. ouch, Buck. I know I’m kind of annoying about how much I love her music, but-”

“No, no- I’m happy you didn’t get any,” he said, “because I got them for you.”

His words didn’t register. You stared at him, mouth agape, as the gears in your mind spun into overdrive. “I don’t… what? How?”

“He might be an ass, but Tony’s good for some stuff,” Bucky laughed. “I asked him to help me- and he said no. We both know he hates my guts. But when I said it was for you, he immediately agreed.”

“You asked Tony?” Bucky didn’t speak to Tony. Ever. Not since Siberia. But he’d broken his sworn vow against Tony. Just for you.

Bucky retrieved his laptop from the kitchen table, “I signed up last week just in case you didn’t get verified. But you did… and then I got a text late last night with a presale code. So, I thought I’d hop on the presale too just in case you couldn’t get tickets.” He turned the computer your way and showed you the screen, “according to this, my account is still stuck in the queue…”

You eyed the screen and saw the long line you stared at all day, “but if you’re still in the queue, how did you-”

Bucky scoffed, “Ticketmaster is no match for Stark tech, sweetheart. Tony found a way around the queue, grabbed three floor seats, and got outta there. Used some of that Iron Man money for good.” He shut the computer and tucked it under his arm, “and now, there are three floor seats linked to your account. You got the VIP package, preferred parking- all the bells and whistles.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Oh, and Stark told me to tell you…” he opened his computer once again and found an email from Tony. “And I quote: You’re too good for this idiot, but at least he’s resourceful. Have a great time at the show, kid.”

You launched yourself into Bucky’s arms, almost sending his laptop clattering to the floor. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh my god, Buck. You’re amazing- you’re the best!”

Bucky, always humble, did his best to duck your praises. “Well, Tony’s the one who got ‘em. I just called him and-”

“But it was your idea! And you entered for the presale just in case- you sat in the queue all day!”

Bucky’s cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink. “I just wanted you to see your girl. I know Taylor’s you’re favorite.”

“No, you’re my favorite,” you said, dropping a deep kiss to his lips. “Oh- I have to call Wanda! And Nat! And- wait, you didn’t ask Tony to get a ticket for you?”

Bucky shook his head, “Doll, this is your thing with your friends. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep an eye on me all night; I want you to give all your attention to Taylor-” He laughed his own words, “as though I have to tell you to give her your attention.”

He dotted kisses all over your face and chuckled as you thanked him time and time again. “You’re more than welcome. All I ever want is for you to be happy, sweetheart. Go call your friends and let ‘em know.”

You rifled through your bag and found your phone, an unstoppable smile plastered across your face all the while. But before you could run off to tell Nat and Wanda the good news, you took Bucky’s face in your hands.

“Just so you know, Buck, this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I mean, getting the tickets is amazing. But signing up for the code just in case, sitting in the queue for me- you’re so sweet.” He blushed once again, still not used to your praise. “And obviously, it helps that you were able to get me floor seats, but I’d be just as appreciative if I came home to no tickets. Cause floor seats or no floor seats, you’re all I want.”

“Well I guess you’re lucky then,” he laughed, “cause you got me and floor seats.”

“Truly, what else could a girl want?” you asked.

“Backstage passes?”

“Yeah, you know I was incredibly grateful and touched that you did this for me-” you joked. “But no backstage passes? Lame.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at you and swatted you on the ass, banishing you to go call your friends.

He’d done a lot of bad in his life. Even if it wasn’t his fault, he’d hurt people. But knowing that he’d done something so meaningful for you eased his mind.

All he wanted for the rest of his days was to see you smile like that. He didn’t care if he had to team up with Tony every week and get you exorbitantly priced concert tickets- he’d do it. He’d do anything for you.

————————————-

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl l @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll  @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions​ @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky

#james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #Bucky #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x yn #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky x female reader #Bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #the eras tour #taylor swift

[detective-giggles]

Friendly Fire

lol, okay so I’m using this as a double-fill. @noxsoulmate picked “bruises” from my BTHB card, and this is also filling the TWP Pride prompt of: AU where they meet playing in an lgbt sports league.   This is my first time writing a meet-ugly, meet-cutes are kinda my thing. Also, I played fast and loose with the timeline.

***

TK sighs. “I don’t know, Paul. It sounds kind of awful.”

“What? Like you have other plans?”

TK scowls, tapping at his phone. He knew that in an attempt to meet people in his new hometown, Paul had found an LGBT sports league and signed up for a flag-football team. TK, on the other hand, had simply decided not to meet new people.

“Please. We just need someone to fill in for a few games until James gets back on their feet. If we don’t have enough people to play, we get disqualified. Please.”

“Yeah, okay. But you have to buy me a drink after,” TK relents. 

Paul cheers, “There’s a boba place near the field! Anything you want!” He comes around the back of the sofa and leans in, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “And maybe you’ll meet someone while we’re there.”

“You’re not making this sound any better!” TK calls after him.

***

“I feel like I’m going to be awful at this,” TK mutters.  Paul hands him a little elastic belt with some bright yellow flags drifting down from each side. TK watches as Paul clips on his own little belt and then grabs a football off the bench.

“Come on. Let’s throw a few before the game starts.”

TK rolls his eyes; tossing the ball around now won’t do anything except guarantee his arm will be too tired to throw later, but he acquiesces and follows his friend to the middle of the field, where other players are stretching and warming up. They take turns throwing the ball back and forth, trying to get into a rhythm before the game starts.

Paul throws one a little too hard, and TK curses, jogging backward, his hand raised, in an attempt to catch it. He hears a little commotion behind him, and his body slams into something solid- as does his elbow.

The football hits the ground next to him with a sad thump. TK whirls around and sees someone on the ground, his hand covering his face.

“Oh my god,” TK exclaims. “I am so, so sorry. Are you hurt?”

Paul jogs over. “Carlos, are you okay?”

“I- maybe?” Carlos pulls his hand away from his face and grimaces when he realizes it’s covered in blood.  

“Here,” TK holds out his hand. Carlos takes TK’s hand in his clean one and allows TK to pull him off the ground. He makes his way to the bench with TK following a short distance behind.  Paul hands him a towel, and he immediately puts it on his nose and groans as he tips his head back.

“Go find us some ice?” TK asks Paul. Paul nods and jogs away. TK slips a hand behind Carlos’ head. “Hey, keep your head up.”

“Huh?” Carlos grumbles and gives him a look but obeys and settles upright again.

“You’re not actually supposed to tip your- never mind.” TK is pretty sure Carlos is glaring at him, but it’s kind of hard to tell, with his face mostly covered.  “Can I take a look?”

“Is that really such a good idea?” Carlos asks, but he pulls the towel away and drops his hands into his lap.

Carlos hisses as TK pokes at his face but otherwise stays silent. “It’s not broken,” TK says finally. “You’ll have a pretty nasty bruise, though.”  He reaches for the towel, but Carlos snatches his hand away and brings the towel back to his face. 

“Well, thank you, Doctor.”

“Uh, firefighter, actually,” TK murmurs. “But I’m dual-certified as a paramedic.” 

Paul returns with a small bag of ice a few moments later, and TK takes it from him, attempting to place the bag on Carlos’ face.

“I’ve got it,” Carlos snaps, taking the bag from TK and holding it to his nose. “I think you’ve done enough.”

TK’s face heats up, and he steps back slowly, turning to Paul, “I should go. I really am sorry,” he adds, turning back to Carlos before walking off the field.

***

“Strand, you have a visitor,” Marjan calls. “He’s in here.”

TK looks up from his spot on the sofa and sees Carlos, in full APD uniform, trailing shortly behind. 

“You taking after your dad and punching cops?” Mateo laughs.

“I didn’t know he was a cop!” TK hisses, “And I didn’t punch him.” 

He jumps up and hurries over, pausing in front of Carlos. Even with Carlos’ swollen cheek and the bruise forming underneath his eye, he’s still the most handsome man TK has ever seen.

“I’m sorry about your face,” he blurts out.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos says simultaneously.

“Wait, what?” TK asks.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos repeats. “About yesterday.”

“Wait. I crashed into you, and you’re apologizing to me?” 

Carlos chuckles and winces. “Yeah, I suppose I am. I was in pain, but that’s not an excuse to have snapped at you. You didn’t do it on purpose, and you were just trying to help.” 

“This conversation isn’t going at all how I thought it would,” TK laughs.

“And you were right; nothing is broken. Just my ego is bruised.”

“And your face,” Paul teases.

“Right,” Carlos mutters. They stand in an awkward silence for a few moments before Carlos speaks up. “So, um, does Mr. Dual-Certified have a name?”

“TK. TK Strand,” he holds out his hand, and Carlos gives him a firm handshake.

“Well, TK Strand, maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, I’ll be…around.”

“Just maybe not on the football field?” Carlos says.  “But, if you wanted to come to watch a football game… Paul could probably tell you when we’re playing next.”

TK grins bashfully and nods, “Sounds good; I’ll be there.”

“Great,” Carlos says goodbye to Paul and then turns to leave.

Paul nudges TK hard, and he stumbles forward. “Maybe afterward, I could buy you dinner or something? As an apology.” 

“Yeah. Or maybe that could just be, like, a regular dinner, and we never bring this up again?” He says, gesturing to his face.

“Deal. It never happened.”

“Okay, see you there.”  

Paul and TK watch, and Carlos gives a little wave as he exits the firehouse. TK turns to see Paul looking smug. 

“I told you it was going to be awful,” TK says. “And it was.”

“And I told you that you were going to meet someone,” Paul points out.

“That doesn’t make it better! Wait, Paul… did you do this on purpose?”

Paul shakes his head and makes his way towards the staircase. 

“Paul? Did you? Paul!” Paul just shrugs as TK follows him up the stairs.

taglist: @sanjuwrites, @chaotictarlos @noxsoulmate @meditating-honey-badger @plaidbooks

#tarlos #911 ls fic #meet-ugly #bthb: bruises #tarlosweeklyprompts #twppride2023 #sports injuries

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Many Roads Diverge in the Woods - Second Run - Part Two

A JSE Interactive Fanfic

Previous

The results are in.

Your path has been altered. Strange how such a small choice can change so much. Don't mind me accidentally voting on the poll myself, I tapped on the option while scrolling fhdjkalh So the results are actually even more in the favor of playing video games :)

The poll at the bottom to decide what happens next is only open for one day, expiring on April 12th at 12:00pm PST. Part Three will be up the next day, April 13th, at the same time.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

“Yeah, I’m sure the food situation is fine,” Chase says. “I want to check out the consoles that Jack’s been keeping from us.”

“Hell yeah!” Jackie grins.

Schneep rolls his eyes. “Fine. But if there is no food in the kitchen you will have to drive back to town.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” That was the price of being the only friend with a driver’s license. “Look, if something’s up, I’ll stop what I’m doing and head down there. But I doubt it is.” Chase leaves the bedroom, closing the door behind him. “C’mon, let’s go check it out.”

Jackie whoops and hurries to the staircase. Chase follows at a slower pace with Schneep trailing behind him.

Marvin and JJ are already downstairs, sitting on the sofa closest to the window. “Can’t believe it’s already getting dark,” Marvin mutters. “Love the fall, hate the lack of daylight.”

“Ah, Marvin, JJ,” Schneep says. “It is getting close to dinner time. What would you like to eat? There is no guarantee Jack will have stocked the food, but I will ask anyway.”

“You already know my list of foods I like,” Marvin says, shrugging.

I’m fine with whatever you want to make, JJ says. It sounds like we may have limited options.

“We may. I have not checked yet.”

“Hey, do you guys want to check out the PS5 with me and Chase?” Jackie asks.

“Uh, sure, I’ll watch whatever you guys do,” Marvin says.

JJ stands up. I’d rather help Henrik in the kitchen, if you don’t mind.

“Aw, I thought we were making so much progress teaching you the ways of the future!” Chase pretends to look sad.

JJ chuckles. I may join later, don’t worry.

He and Schneep headed into the kitchen while Chase, Jackie and Marvin started setting up the console and checking out what games were on it. “Jesus, does he have every Resident Evil game on here?” Chase mutters. “He does! There’s no way he’s played them all, though, since he straight-up forgot about this cabin until recently.”

“Oo! Oo! Spider-Man!” Jackie says excitedly. “Let’s play that!”

“We should choose something multiple people can play,” Marvin points out.

“Yeah, well, doesn’t look like he has a lot of those,” Chase says. “Look, Monopoly. You want to play Monopoly?”

Marvin makes a face.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Good news, everyone!” Schneep reappears in the archway leading to the kitchen. “Everything is full of food. I don’t think we are eager to cook, but JJ found some frozen pizzas in the freezer.”

“Hell yeah,” Jackie says. “How many? What toppings?”

“Well it looks like there is one for each of us, as there are five, one for each of our preferences.”

“Oh cool, I don’t have to pick off toppings!” Marvin says excitedly. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“The oven is not big enough for all at once, so who can wait?”

“Uh, I’m not that hungry,” Chase says. “And I doubt that Jackie will want to eat right away, since he went straight for the PS5.”

“Hey! ...Well, that’s fair,” Jackie admits.

“Three is fine,” Schneep says, and turns around, going back into the kitchen.

“Sooo what are we playing?” Jackie asks.

“I saw Grand Theft Auto back there, let’s choose that,” Marvin suggests. “It’s always fun to watch even if you’re not playing.”

“Sounds good to me,” Chase says, selecting the game.

They play for about ten minutes, with Chase having primary control while Jackie and Marvin tell him what to do and occasionally try to grab the controller from him. Chase is just about ready to tell the other two to take their turn, if they’re so focused on playing, when—

The screen and lights in the room go dark.

“Aw, what?” Chase presses buttons on the controller as if that can fix it. “Did the power go out?”

Marvin groans. “We were tempting fate earlier when we said we won’t have to go down into the basement.”

Schneep and JJ run into the living room. Did everything go out? JJ asks.

“Looks like it.” Jackie punches his fist. “God damn it! Well, at least we didn’t get far.”

“Jack said the fuse box was in the basement, right?” Marvin recalls. “Schneep, you still have the house keys. Can they open the basement door?”

“I am sure they... oh.” Schneep digs around in his pocket. Then his other one. “Where did they..?”

JJ walks over to a table by the entrance and picks up the keys from there. He looks at Schneep with a raised eyebrow. You didn’t remember where you put them?

“W-well, I am sure one of those can open the basement,” Schneep stammers, embarrassed. “I will, ah, keep an eye on the... the food.” And he disappears back into the kitchen.

Jackie sighs. “Okay then. One of us should stay up here and keep an eye on things. Get everything set back up the moment the power comes on. Chase, are you okay with doing that? You were figuring out the controls faster than I was.”

“Sure, I don’t mind,” Chase agrees. “So who’s going downstairs, then?”

Jackie, Marvin, and JJ all look at each other.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #chase brody #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #brigid writes fanfiction #manyroadsdivergejse

[stealingyourbones]

*puts 'What's New Pussycat' 21 times in your Diner Jukebox and 'It's Not Unusual' somewhere random in between*

*sits at a random table waiting for Celia, who definitely knows what I've done*

Don't look at me like that, there's a reason why I'm doing this.

Okay, I don't really have a real reason. I just thought it would be funny after everything going on in the Ghost Zone.

You know that old fairy tale? Of the Princess Who Doesn't Laugh?

No?

Well, it isn't as well-known. The version I know if is of this princess who hasn't been able to laugh since her mother died, and the person who manages to make her laugh will be her spouse and new King of the Kingdom.

The Ghost King's sibling, Princess Jasmine, had been apathetic lately. Us ghosts think it's the immortality being liminal gave her. Immortals gets bored after the first few hundred years, y'know?

But... His Highness believes that she's... well... heartsick? Which is stupid, because I've never been much for romance myself. But, I guess when you've got most of your life together, you do get ready to take the next step, amiright? Marriage. Family. All that romantic shit.

*receives burger* Thanks.

Most of us ghosts has now tried to woo her, but His Highness put a stop to the wooing. Instead, he put out this... contest. Whoever manages to make Princess Jasmine smile will be a 'candidate'. Not a guarantee, but a 'candidate'. Which means that even when you've managed to make her smile or laugh, she still has the means to turn you away.

I love His Highness for doin' that.

There's this little problem, though. The contest isn't limited to ghosts. Anyone from the living could also participate, and once they win the heart of Princess Jasmine and marry her, they'll receive the same liminality she got.

So, everyone's super surprised when this... this... kid from years ago with your Gotham Robin colors dropped into the courtroom and managed to make her smile! And Laugh! Princess Jasmine didn't let him be part of the contest because he's, well, a kid. Kudos to her. The contest was paused after that, because her motherly and sisterly instincts activated just by being with the kid. And, when you're a ghost kid, you don't actually grow. You learn more, yeah. But your childish tendencies don't really mature.

Anyways. He made her happy, so us ghosts just left it alone. Maybe her obsession was caregiving or some shit, so when His Highness became independent and really didn't need his sister anymore, she had nothing to do.

Then, the kid disappeared. And Princess Jasmine was back to being sad.

But here's the thing, the Kid is back. Just last week. He's alive, he's taller (not as tall as our Princess, though!), he's rougher, and he's... he's... *holds face in hands* HE'S HOT. HE'S NO LONGER THE CUTE SUNSHINE BOY THAT FELL INTO THE THRONE ROOM.

I thought the Princess Jasmine was going to turn him away, because he doesn't seem like the type to activate motherly instincts anymore (maybe just mommy instincts-- *is bonked* OW! Yeah, I probably deserved that)

But no, the... the man (Oh Ancients, he's a MAN), the first thing he does is drop his bad boy persona and turn back to the cute boy that fell into the throne room, AND CRACK THE LAMEST JOKE I'VE EVER HEARD.

It was so quiet, I was feeling secondhand embarrassment for him.

BUT THEN.

PRINCESS JASMINE.

LAUGHED.

SHE LAUGHED WITH TEARS.

It was the most beautiful sound in the Ghost Zone that got even His Highness crying with happiness.

*wipes eyes*

After that, the two decided to reconnect. King Danny even removed the bad ectoplasm in his system. And...

Well..

For the past week...

*smiles*

*gestures to a table near the window, which had Jasmine laughing at Jason seething with frustration over the music. Jasmine then says something, which calms Jason down, and they begin talking about cutesy couple-y stuff.*

Yeah...

*It's Not Unusual starts playing*

*everyone sighs with relief*

Anyways, *hands you some sharpened shoulder blades of Mammoths* Thanks for listening to me. Have a good one, Celia! The Burgers are delicious!

*After heading out, a few minutes later, one Batman cries loudly in frustration when What's New Pussycat plays in the Jukebox, causing Jasmine and Jason to find out that they're being stalked by the Batfam*

first of all anon, thank you for being the person who started the entire celia bones thing because holy shit it's been so fun watching people make lore and create concepts of the diner. (at least I'm 99% sure its you cause its the same writing style.)

In thanks, I did a very speedy lil doodle for ya <3

and now, on to answering this prompt. The story of the Princess Who Doesn't Laugh is quite a wonderous tale. I appreciate your gracious tip and story. Come back again!

From what I hear, The ghost child was there for many years but the day he vanished, oh that day is known around the entire Ghost Zone. Ghosts claim that they could hear the Princess's wails of sorrow throughout the entire Zone.

Hearing that he's back is quite a surprise. I can agree that the Princess has a type and I admire it Heavily. The man grew up a lot. More so than a person should in those years of being back in the living realm.

It's interesting. The Princess hasn't laughed in so long. Some even rumored that her laughter was a form of blessing. to be bestowed the honor of letting the princess experience joy was incredible in and of itself. The possible magical wards and protections said to be given to the jokester have been claimed to be simple spells to some of the most complex magical enchantments that the Ghost Zone has ever seen.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc comics #writing prompts #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #bones replies #celia bones #anon

[changingplumbob]

Nishidake Household: Chapter 5, Part 4

In this part Kaori explores the possibility of purchasing the park.

New background characters by AlexiaVR and ObsidianLilith

...

For dinner today Kaori has invited Mt Komorebi mayor Hiro and his wife Suzu who is also on the town council. Kaori wants to discuss the possibility of purchasing the downtown park, rather than letting it be purchased by developers.

Hiro: It’s good to see you again Kaori

Suzu: It was nice to invite us

Kaori: I know you knew my grandparents

Hiro: Oh yes. Shigeru and Sachiko were always looking out for the area

Suzu: We were so sorry to hear about their passing. They may not have been official council employees but many there would go to them for advice

Kaori: Come in, please. We can eat and talk

Hiro: Are you related to my wife

Kaori: I… what?

Hiro: Anytime she wants me to change my mind she cooks a brilliant meal

Kaori: *laughs* Maybe we do have that in common

Suzu: How can we help Kaori

Kaori: Last time we talked you said the council was open to offers on Hazakura Park

Hiro: We are

Kaori: Could I buy it

Suzu: You want to buy the park? Why?

Kaori: It’s sort of hard to explain. My grandparents and I… well, they saw our family as sort of the protectors of the area, the guardians of the mountain type thing

Hiro: That makes sense, they were always so generous

Kaori: My wife and I were hoping to carry on that role. If we buy Hazakura Park we can keep it as a park. That way while developers may buy up the surrounding area, the residents will still have a park to gather in as a community

Hiro: We have had a few purchase offers. Most notable the Ito’s

Kaori: The Ito’s? Right

Hiro: But make an offer and the council will decide on the best buyer

The dinner wraps up and Kaori begins cleaning up. Before the couple leave Suzu pulls Kaori aside to talk.

Suzu: Are you okay? You seemed sad when Hiro mentioned the Ito’s

Kaori: Yeah… I dated their son Kiyoshi in high school. It did not end well. But when we were together I did learn how his father operates. He overbids on land, sweeps in to make a profit, and then leaves

Suzu: That doesn’t sound good for the area. Unfortunately Naoki has made a large offer, the council would take a lot of persuading to turn that down. But maybe…

Kaori: Maybe what

Suzu looks around to make sure her husband is distracted by the soccer game on the TV that Charlie is playing in.

Suzu: Here, I’ll give you the direct contact number for the business. I’m not meant to have it, and if anyone asks me I’ll deny it

Kaori: Why are you giving it to me then

Suzu: I don’t want to see our home overrun with poor quality, over expensive housing any more than you do. Good luck. Hiro! We should get going

Hiro: Your wife sure can kick. Please tell her I think she did a great job in that first half

Kaori: I will. Thank you for coming

Charlie: Did the dinner go alright

Kaori: Yes and no. But Char, you were amazing in that first half, the mayor even said I should tell you

Charlie: The mayor paid me a compliment? Does that make me a princess

Kaori: Not quite

Charlie: Damn. I was already sizing the crown. Thanks for watching though K

Kaori: Always

Charlie: So what did Mr and Mrs Mt Komorebi Council have to say about the park?

Kaori: They said the council is still accepting offers

Charlie: You don’t seem happy about that

Kaori: *sighs* the mayor let slip that one of the offers is from the Ito’s

Charlie: The who nows?

Kaori: It’s Kiyoshi’s family Char

Charlie: Oh… The mega rich controlling ones

Kaori: The mega rich, controlling, profiteering and stepping on the little guy ones

Charlie: *sarcastically* So we’ll be able to buy the place as a bargain then

Kaori: *sighs*

Charlie: Hey, we don’t have to give up on buying it. It’ll be better long term if we get it before people are living on the land. Do you have a next step?

Kaori: I do but I can’t guarantee anything… Clover are you trying to beg for food? Bad dog

Clover: *barks* I would be helping clean the plate

Charlie: Thanks for dinner. We’ll find a way to help Kaori, I promise

Kaori: Sleeptime?

Charlie: Yes please. That was such a long game, I’m beat

The two set about getting ready for bed. Charlie is faster due to her determination to sleep and is snoring softly by the time Kaori climbs in. The two snuggle up and dream of the future.

The next morning keeps Charlie busy with her pre work task of studying opponents. Kaori takes Clover for a run in the sun and snow.

Kaori: We’ll get home and we’ll just do it, we’ll make the call

Clover: *barks* If you say so

Kaori: Try not to get dirty, then we can skip a bath for you

As she and Clover descend the stairs near the ski lift Kaori suddenly finds it hard to keep her footing. She slides on the ice, desperately trying not to fall over. When she gets a solid footing she sighs in relief.

Kaori: We are not taking that as an omen okay

Clover: *barks* suits me

Kaori: Hello? I’m calling to discuss your offer on Hazakura Park

?: Are you from the council

Kaori: No. I’m a resident and I wanted to talk to you about the future of the space

?: Look, I’m sure you mean well, but my father doesn’t meet with residents over sales

Kaori: Your- Wait, Kiyoshi?

Kiyoshi: Yeah this is my personal business extension. I’m in charge of Ito developments in Mt Komorebi. Who are you again?

Kaori is unsure what to say. Kiyoshi did not take their break up well. If she says it’s her he might just hang up, and the park would be out of reach. But if she says nothing he’s definitely hanging up.

Kaori: It’s me, Kaori

For a long moment Kiyoshi doesn’t respond and Kaori checks to see if he’s hung up on her. He hasn’t.

Kaori: I know things got messy but I really care about Mt Komorebi. I know the boy I knew did to. Please, tell me how to reach your father

Kiyoshi: It wouldn’t matter. He’s put me in charge of the developments here, the offer on the park was mine

Kaori: Oh. Perhaps we-

Kiyoshi: I… I’m actually not doing anything for dinner. Can I take you out and we can talk properly? Otherwise my schedule is pretty tight for the next few weeks

Kaori: Kiyoshi I’m married

Kiyoshi: I heard. She can come if you want

Kaori: She’s actually training tonight. But if it’s the only time you have free, I’ll come

Kaori arrives at 5-3-1 Shinrinyoku. This restaurant was built by the gallery's own KA0260. Kiyoshi is already there.

Kiyoshi: You look good. Really good

Kaori: I see your father finally got you in a suit

Kiyoshi: You never could take a compliment. I’ve come straight from the office, I’ll change inside

Kaori: Thank you for meeting with me. The park is important

Kiyoshi: We can talk about it inside. After you

Kaori heads inside and Kiyoshi goes to grab a change of clothes. His mind drifts to the time he had the heart of Kaori, how was she even more attractive with age? And those glasses! He would bet they steamed up perfectly.

Kaori gets seated first but it’s not long before Kiyoshi joins her.

Kiyoshi: Can we just address the elephant in the room snow-bird?

Kaori: I know we ended badly

Kiyoshi: Badly? I worked for my dad on top of my schoolwork to get you that engagement ring, and what did you say when I proposed to you in front of all of our family and friends?

Kaori looks down ashamedly. It had not been her best day.

Kiyoshi: If you thought you were a lesbian, why not tell me before that? As a proposal response it’s not ideal. I would have listened

Kaori: I never liked any of the girls we went to school with beyond crush level. But the weekend before you proposed I went to the night club and I saw a European woman and… I realised I wanted her in a way I didn’t want you. I did think what we had was love but-

Kiyoshi: It was love

Kaori: I never desired you Kiyoshi. Not the way I’m attracted to women, to my wife

Kiyoshi: Really? Because I can think of a few woohoo sessions where you gave the opposite opinion

Kaori: *sighs* Please, I want to talk about the park, not the past. We can’t let our personal feeling get in the way of what’s best for the area

Kiyoshi: You’re right. Can I have an 8 piece salmon for me and my friend will have…

Kaori: 8 piece salmon would actually be nice

Kiyoshi: Some things never change. Why do you want Hazakura Park

Kaori: It’s a bit tricky to explain

Kiyoshi: Talk to me snow-bird

Kaori: It’s my responsibility to look after the mountain. A new subdivision is nothing without a communal space for residents to gather. To have a place to meet up and remember what colour grass is

Kiyoshi: *laughs* I’ve purchased other properties in the neighbourhood. I guess a park is a good idea. If it means so much I’ll buy it so the council can have the income but tell them to sign the deed over to you

Kaori: That’s… very generous. Won’t your father be mad?

Kiyoshi: Don’t worry about him. I want to do this, for you. I like seeing you happy, I like making you happy. Now, tell me about your wife

Back home Kaori paces nervously, waiting for Charlie to get home. As soon as she does Kaori kisses her on the cheek and motions for her to sit.

Charlie: How was your afternoon? Were you able to get hold of Naoki

Kaori: I did ring the number but it wasn’t for Naoki

Charlie: Did Suzu give you the receptionist number because I could have googled that to be your hero

Kaori: No. It was the line for Kiyoshi

Charlie: Oh, him...

There was a few minutes of silence. Charlie didn’t know what response to give and Kaori wasn’t sure what her wife needed to hear.

Kaori: We’ll be getting the park though Char

Charlie: We will? I thought you said that whole family was money obsessed

Kaori: I thought so. But Kiyoshi...

Charlie: He’s taking back the purchase offer?

Kaori: Not exactly

Charlie: What do you mean not exactly? He's either keeping the bid in or withdrawing it

Kaori: The council need money Char, Kiyoshi will pay them the cost of the property and he’ll sign the deed for the park over to us. That way we have more inheritance money left for the long term

Charlie: Did he happen to tell you this while staring at your boobs

Kaori: *angrily* No. I got his agreement in writing Char, he can’t take it back. And I wore my hoodie, you know my boobs get buried in it

Charlie: Did he try to flirt with you

Kaori: He did but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. Believe me, he’s never forgetting I’m a lesbian after I ruined his proposal. He even asked about you

Charlie: Yes but you know straight cis men, half the time they think lesbians are a myth because no woman could possibly turn down their pixel parts

Kaori: Look, I don't want to fight about what he may or may not think. If he tries getting handsy you can kick his ass. How’s that?

Charlie: Good because I'll kick it from here to Sulani

Kaori: Now why don’t you finish your meal so I can remind you I am 100% attracted to you. I'm in a generous mood

Charlie: Sounds like a deal

And with that, the Nishidake household is done for this rotation. I don’t know friends, it was really hard to get through this one. I’m not sure if I’m falling out of love with the household, or not finding much inspiration in their story, or just was unwell/stressed when trying to write and play. Or perhaps I was just trying to put off writing the first household of next rotation because I’ve decided to REDACTED. I really want to reach the summit with them, I’ve never played that before, but levelling up is hard when Charlie has a job that doesn’t require rock climbing. I’m considering skipping them next rotation, and perhaps returning to them in a few in game years when I can cheat the climbing skill up enough that they can survive the climb.

Previous ... Next (York)

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0809 #NishidakeHousehold #KaoriNishidake #CharlieNishidake

[boxenstopp]

it's 1 am, anyway time for walkthrough of my entire rewatch of czech it out. as my brain slowly melts into pieces. get ready for a long-as-shit post.

EPISODE 1!!!!!

can i say. first of all. wtf are these graphics. what were they thinking and why does it kind of work with the atmosphere.

second of all. introduction of the coffee. does carzzy like coffee? is that his coffee? who made the coffee? all differs depending on the video.

introduction of the smiley "i agree to anything carzzy says" humanoid. he has that rookie vibe here like he's very unsure of himself but oh boy marek, carzzy is not a stable anchor.

also, carzzy calling humanoid "marek brazda" every chance he gets, istg. he 100% says it just because he loves how it sounds. brazzzzda.

cut to carzzy calling him unskilled and we get the classic "i've been insulted by carzzy" face. i love that he has these patented modes. so far we've had "carzzy loml you can never do anything wrong (meant ironically)" and "carzzy loml 🥺🥺 spare me anything sir i haven't but a penny" (it has been 40 seconds)

face is exemplified when carzzy goes out of his way to place his cup on (what i assume is) humanoid's desk, cause of course he does.

humanoid gets asked a question about mid and so carzzy is RESPECTFUL and lets humanoid speak.

just leaving this here. btw: "marek brazda" counter: II

i realize at this point there are so many things to point out but i'm too lazy to screencap them. first of all, carzzy complaining about pantheon/taliyah and humanoid who was not listening at all just going "nice :)" and carzzy also needs a moment to register and then goes. "no." and then they start arguing about something with approx. 0 heart and 2 braincells of what they're arguing about. and then carzzy does the thing where he lets humanoid get the last word (thing he does all the fucking time) and just hums like a girl cause SHE IS down bad. (btw me calling carzzy a girl is not an insult it's an um actually? 🏳️‍🌈🤓 moment.)

G2 TIME!!

one of the most important things about carzzynoid is their nonchalant complete factually incorrect statements. can guarantee you they think it's the funniest shit ever, however, it's only funny if no one laughs. they have these voices where you can tell they're trying to make themselves sounds as uncaring as possible. anyway yeah guys, g2 is 10th, 9th place team for sure.

CAN I SAY. carzzy's heterochromia is insane in these early videos. every close-up on his face i go woawwww!! idk if it's more noticeable or if i'm just going insane. anyway humanoid goes on to end the segment with "pojďme se na to společně podívat!" (according to software that seems about correct to me) meaning "let's take a look at it together" otherwise LITERALLY meaning "check it out." or something pretty close. as an EXTREME linguistics nerd and general languages lover i think hearing them speak czech makes me explode about 10 times anyway so. idk if that's a correct analysis :)

THIS carzzy smirk. i could write a paragraph here honestly. anyway humanoid asks a question and carzzy does not answer because why would he.

EYES.

then carzzy goes on a rant about how amazing their coach is only for his genius mordekaiser pick to be wasted on MAREK BRAZDA (counter: III)

insulted marek left, "i'm not blaming anyone" marek right. (carzzy was totally blaming you dude. you're both so horrible.)

carzzy checks in on humanoid for that one, lmao. makes sure that he understands, yep.

NEXT DYNAMIC UP!! the fuckin sad lions/chad lions thing. carzzy thinks they are "sad lions" cause they lost both games.

carzzy calls humanoid a czech, a clearly very embarrassing insult. also he hesitated a bit which meant he was SCRAMBLING for a different insult but really. czech? that's the best he could come up with. pussy.

anyway he's bullied marek into participating in the content and so he actually has to give his thoughts and he thinks he's a bad chad bitch who actually LET them win. also "this guy" counter: I. because humanoid hates calling carzzy anything actually. carzzy is just a pest to him and he needs to express that to carzzy face. obviously.

CONFLICT RESOLUTION!! i love how their dynamic is straight up insult each other until one person goes: actually you're the best i love you so much you're so hot so talented i agree with everything you say i'm a shit stain you're a saint i'll do anytthing-

VIDEO END

final thoughts: ough it's 2:30 am now but it was worth it honestly feels fucking amazing to type all this out imma go to sleep hopefully nobody reads this because really you're wasting your time. if you did <3 thanks.

#lol stuff #czech it out recaps #ep 1 #Youtube

[loversgothic]

What's princess tutu??

OH BOY YOUVE OPENED THE FLOOD GATES NOW LET ME TELL U ABT MY FAVORITE SHOW, PRINCESS TUTU (take 2 bc i lost my old writing abt this.)

I think it’s a bit funny this is one of my OTHER obsessions other than Ultrakill considering how different they are, but eh. I can’t guarantee this will be everyone’s cup of tea. 

Princess Tutu is an anime released in 2002 (it had its 20 year anniversary recently :D) and is somewhat well-known (but also kinda not..) among fans of mahou shoujo. It has only two seasons and is one of my favorite animes ever. It also has a manga series that was released I think alongside it however its story is different from the anime and I hear it isn’t as good as the anime. While it is not action-packed or full of bright colors it tells a story that resonates with me so deeply and made me rethink what makes a good story. It has a very soft and delicate look to it, and while it can get very fucking dark it can be very sweet and cute. It also inspired my love of ballet and returned a love of classical music to me that I had lost, and is what inspired my Ultradanse AU in MANY fucking ways. My partner Valentine is the one who showed it to me and it changed me fundamentally, and I showed it to Dex and it ruined his life (positively). So now I hope by dumping about this, it interests you in watching it!

VERY LONG WRITING UNDER THE CUT. I AM SO SORRY.

The story follows the heroine Duck, and three other characters named Fakir, Rue and Mytho. It takes place in Gold Crown Town, a place where fairytales become reality. However, Gold Crown Town is only like this because it is under the influence of Drosselmeyer, an author of immense power who died before he could finish writing his story The Prince and the Raven and is now using the town and its residents to orchestrate his story to give it a conclusion.The Prince and the Raven from the book escape their story and come into reality, and to seal the Raven away he shatters his heart into shards that scatter themselves across the town. He succeeds, but the Prince is now without emotion or feeling, barely able to think for himself. He now studies dance at Gold Crown Academy, where the other three main characters study as well.

Drosselmeyer has given the main four different character roles, each one meant to end in their demise or a tragic end. They’re meant to play the roles, submit to the fate of the character, and fully believe that they were that character from the beginning even if that wasn’t true. Drosselmeyer may or may not have influenced and altered their histories and memories, and probably altered their feelings as well so it can be brought into question how much is under Drosselmeyer’s influences.

Drosselmeyer wants this story to end in tragedy, to end in sadness, as to him that would be the best ending. The characters within it though are very complex people, and rather than to succumb to their fates, everyone is trying to escape it. Princess Tutu plays a lot with defying destiny.

Duck plays the role of Princess Tutu. While the title of the role she plays is the title of the series, in Drosselmeyer’s story and in his plans, Princess Tutu is a minor character who is only meant to return the Prince’s heart shards to him, confess her love and then immediately die. It’s a cruel fate, as Duck wants nothing more than to do the right thing and help the prince and others by returning his shards to him where they belong so he may feel and think for himself again. Being Princess Tutu is conflicting for her, because it doesn’t just affect her fate and others but if she wasn’t Princess Tutu she would no longer be able to dance so exquisitely as she wants. Not being Princess Tutu means a lot of things for her, it also means she could forfeit her ability to be a girl. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention? Duck is not even a human girl. She was born a duck and ends the story as a duck. She’s not particularly skilled in much and isn’t very special at all. And yet, what makes her so great is her kindness and resilience. You don’t have to be particularly skilled or perfect at anything to change things or be loved, it’s okay to be average or “just a duck.” It’s fine to be flawed, you can still move someone's heart and change your fate.

Rue plays the role of Princess Kraehe, I don’t think I can really call her an antagonist as she isn’t really one to me. Princess Kraehe is the daughter of the Raven, and she desires the prince and actively works against Princess Tutu to stop him from regaining his heart shards, or just to mess with the process and use it to further her goals. However, Rue makes me SO FUCKING SAD. The Raven leads Rue to believe Mytho is the only one who’d be able to love someone as ugly as her, and only believes she is ugly because she is human in appearance instead of a bird. He gives her this insecurity and desperation that makes her easy to manipulate as he plans to “help” her secure the prince for herself. But she really does love Mytho, and has loved him for all her life. I wish I could go on and on about her, she’s one of my favorite characters ever and she makes me CRY. SHEEE ONLY WANTED TO BE LOVED THATS ALL SHE WANTED AAGGHGHHH

Fakir plays the role of the Prince’s knight, and while I thought he was the antagonist when I first watched the way he develops over the course of the story really makes that idea fade fast. Hell, I even forgot I hated him when I first watched, and now he’s on my top 10 favorite emo boys. He seems like a total dickweed at first and has some.. Kinda vaguely gay scenes with Mytho at the beginning, but he’s far more than that. He admires Mytho and when he was younger, swore he wanted to be Mytho’s knight to protect him, and doesn’t want Mytho to get hurt. Having emotions means he’s susceptible to getting hurt, but there’s more to that. Fakir, playing the role of the knight and believing in his fate, he fears that fate and what is to befall him. Similar to Princess Tutu, he is also destined to die, to be sliced through the chest in battle. He was even born with a birthmark that resembles a scar across his chest. If Mytho has his heart shards returned to him, the story goes into motion, and the closer he gets to his fate. He wants to protect Mytho and keep him safe, but he also doesn’t want to die.While everyone plays a very important role in the story’s finale, he plays a very big one howweeever I don’t wanna spoil what that is or some abilities he has. :]

Mytho, my dear sweet boy and his fucked up haircut, is the prince. He doesn’t play a role, he IS the prince from the story. He exists as this heroic figure that is meant to be perfect, and he has a desire to protect and save others. For most of the story though he lacks his emotions and gains them back slowly, but kinda just gets get pushed and dragged around by Rue and Fakir who are both, for different selfish kinds of love and in different ways, keep him from regaining feelings and dictating what he does. Maybe I’m silly for this interpretation, but he is kind of used like a tool or a doll sometimes rather than a person. Regaining his emotions can hurt him in more ways than one and yet he still wants all of his emotions back. He kind of goes from holding no opinions or thoughts of his own at all to forming ones can be conflicting in the moment. He also gets hurt when Kraehe taints a heart shard with raven’s blood which gives him a touch of evil and flaws he did not begin with. I don’t think he gets the same amount of a transformation of character as the other three, but in the end when his emotions are regained he becomes a bit of an imperfect prince.

I love the characters, a lot. A totally normal amount. BUT. I gotta say, Princess Tutu has some of the prettiest but also the coolest scenes, and they’re good art inspiration for me. I really gotta go out of my way to clip my favorite things, because some of my favorite things haven’t been clipped and put on Youtube somewhere. Here’s some gifs from the series that I like

okay thanks for hearing me ramble have a nice day

#long post #ask #thank you for letting me ramble i am so normal #watch princess tutu Do it for me #i did not explain it the best the show speaks for itself better. #i probably make it sound more lame than it actually is

[cxhleel108]

S7 Thots for this week: YAWN!

(Considered not even doing one cuz this shit was so lame but I know y’all love when I be dragging tf outta this game so I’m doing it for you🫶🏽)

• Let’s start with the fact that they didn’t even try to hide the fact that Ivy and Hamish were the special guests this year…girl.

• I’m so happy for the 0.0001% of people that asked for this.

• Babe it’s not a surprise if I already know what you’re finna do but yay!

• Yeah I’m sad that she’s gone too…sad that she's gone and you aren’t🙁

• No new sleepwear…ok.

• Aka these bitches was too lazy to come up with SOMETHING ELSE for our last night in the villa.

• No new outfits for our last date either…ok!

• Yes bitch stay on his neck for that cuz he know he was wrong!

• Once again Bryson, you’re calling what you’re finna do a surprise when it’s not that.

• Wow! We actually got a choice for what we wanted to end our date with…that’s a first.

• TIP TIP TIP ON HARDWOOD FLOORS, TEN TEN TENS ACROSS THE BOARD, GIVE ME FACE FACE FACE FACE YAH, YA FACE CARD NEVER DECLINES MY GOD! Sorry, when I see Beyoncé lyrics I have to fan out.

• Wait that confirms that Uma’s a Beyoncé fan uggghh that’s why she’s my girl fr.

• These two dresses are the only ones that deserve a mention because the prom outfit options this year…I actually wanna cry.

• Like girl the fucking pink dress- whatever let’s move on.

• Whoever tried to fuck over Bryson by making his blazer look awkward asf just know that you and I got beef now. Don’t play my man!

• Girl…be so for real😭😭😭

• Why are we playing “Who’s Most Likely To” in the middle of the finale???

• Why tf do I have to be the loudest snorer? Oh you bitches got both me and Tanya all the way fucked up!

• You know what Willow…I’ve spent basically the entirety of this season getting on yo ass and while it was very funny and entertaining I’m a nice person and I like to give grace. So, Imma let it slide.

• I was finding it so hard to take Alex’s declaration serious only because I feel like I’m the only one that remembers how he tried to get at us. Oh but now all of sudden Uma’s the love of his life and he wanna go exclusive? Yeah, sure.

• CAAPPPP! FUCKING CAP!

• Sorry, I know I said I’d stop but come on let’s at least be honest.

• Travis not even looking at her and looking at us…yeah they’re done for as soon as we leave.

• Surprised Bonnie didn’t make her love declaration all about us. Period, growth!

• He’s literally finna ask us to be his girlfriend why do we need to do this??? Fusebox, I see the funds really aren’t funding anymore.

• OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDD

• Well duh! Y'all don't even stick to the idea of you.

• Oh here she go already starting shit💀💀💀

• Chile at this point break up like my god.

• Why Ivy lowkey more bearable here than she ever was last season?

• Bryson saying he would block all them groupie bitches for me omg y’all he really loves me🥹

• This nigga💀

• I will say…Ivy and Ham-hock are definitely perfect for each other.

• Yeahhhh considering how this season went I can guarantee that the drama will in fact not be serious at all.

#let’s hurry up and get this over with bruh #I’ve clocked out atp #litg #love island the game #litg s7 #litg season 7 #litg stick or twist #litg mc #litg bryson #litg willow #litg uma #litg alex #litg bonnie #litg travis #litg vicky #litg daphne

[holly-louisexox]

Ribcage X Andy Biersack- Part 9

Masterlist

"There's one thing you should know about me Delia Vincent, I don't date. Got no heart to break and emptiness is safe, keep it that way."

He was adamant in his choices...

...But then things changed.

Not my GIF

"You so would have been impressed by my ballet skills." Delia laughs as she and Andy walk through the hotel towards where the rooms were; they were rather lucky in the case that everyone had a room in the same area of the hotel.

"Still on about the ballet?" Andy shakes his head trying to conceal his grin. "I'll ask you about that when you're sober, I guarantee you won't want to show off your moves then."

"Fuck! I left my key in Shevy's bag!" Delia curses turning back to face Andy after having realised her key was not in her jacket pocket.

"Fuck sake Delia! How could you be so stupid?" Andy groans before instantly catching his chill. "It's fine, there's a sofa in my room, I'll just take that. Come on."

"Don't flatter yourself Andy, you wouldn't be the first guy I've shared a bed with and it not be romantic." Delia scoffs slightly as she follows Andy to his room.

"You're the one who said it was a shame I'm attractive cause I'm massive dickhead." Andy shakes his head again whilst feeling that same slight smile pull at his lips; he'd be lying if he said these couple of weeks hadn't changed how he feels about people, Delia standing her ground against him definitely shook him a little. It's not that he wanted people to be scared of him or not bother with him but no one in the band had really stood up against him, just kind of got on with it and that allowed Andy the chance to wallow in his anxieties and sadness in the hopes that they would disappear eventually

"And it wasn't a lie." Delia grins before scrunching her face up as she realises her outfit. "Do you have a shirt I can borrow? If I sleep in this dress a tit will most likely fall out and nobody wants to see that."

"Oh, erm, yeah. Yeah I do, I'll grab you one." Andy replies in shock; Andy knew he was socially awkward but when he was around Delia it was a whole other level, probably because of how annoying he always found her but he had agreed to be civil so civil is what he will be. "Here."

"Thanks... Erm, would you mind turning around please?" Delia's grin turns awkward, Andy wasn't the only one who now felt the sudden tension in the room.

"Oh, yeah, yeah sure." Andy stutters slightly before turning around allowing Delia to change; honestly he didn't understand why she couldn't change in the bathroom, same time it was probably a good thing in case she fell and hurt herself or something.

"Okay I'm good." Delia informs Andy making him turn around to see her placing her now folded dress on the back of the little chair in the room before she throws herself backwards onto the double bed. "Is it weird that I love hotel beds? I feel like they're always more comfortable, like sleeping on a cloud or something."

"I can't say I've ever thought about it." Andy replies trying not to stare at the girl in his shirt. Sure he found Delia to be very pretty but she was also very annoying, he had to remember that part. plus with this tour things were already awkward. "You sure you don't want me on the sofa?"

"Don't make a mole hill mountain." Delia grumbles before climbing under the duvet.

"The saying is 'don't make a mountain out of a mole hill', a mole hill mountain makes no sense." Andy finally lets the laugh he'd been hiding for so long slip which also makes Delia burst out laughing.

"Oh yeah! That's what I meant!" Delia looked as if she was close to tears at this point.

"Right, well I'm gonna change. I'm gonna go to the bathroom to do so, just so, you know, whatever." Andy stutters again; what was wrong with him when it change to this annoying member of the team?

"Sure, you do you boo." Delia calms before pulling the duvet over herself more.

Once Andy walks out of the bathroom after changing out of his jeans to a pair of more suitable trousers to sleep in, he sees Delia sound asleep. which causes that same small smile to form on his face- this was 100% the effect of the alcohol he had been drinking earlier that night, there's no way he would find someone so insufferable attractive.

Shaking away his thoughts Andy awkwardly climbs into the bed next to Delia trying to ensure there was room in between the two of them- this did not need to be anymore awkward then it already was.

"Delia? What are you doing?" Andy asks the girl, who was not completely asleep, after she decided that she was actually going to ruin the whole leave space plan Andy had subconsciously by cuddling into Andy's side.

"I'm cold. You're warm. So I snuggled." Delia mutters half asleep.

"Oh." Was all that Andy was able to get out before he heard soft snores coming from Delia.

There was absolutely nothing that should be pulling Andy to Delia right now. Sure she was very pretty but the two of them clashed like fire and ice, nothing would work and would end in disaster, Andy knew this. So why was he suddenly drawn to this fiery girl sleeping next to him? Andy made himself a promise that after his divorce with Juliet he wouldn't allow himself to get close to anyone like that again because it was easier. That was a promise that was suddenly becoming hard to stick to, but regardless, he was determined to stick to it.

After all, for his own sanity he had to....

...Right?

#andy biersack #andy black #andy bvb #Lonny Eagleton #lonny bvb #jinxx bvb #Jake Pitts #jake bvb #black veil brides #bvb #cc bvb #black veil brides fanfic #bvb fanfic

[hoshi-y]

WAIT I DIDNT KNOW YOU ADDED SUMIRE 🥹💖 I KNOW I MADE A REQUEST BUT IGNORE IT (so sorry 😭) Can I request Sumire, Kou, Mitsuba, and Yashiro (hopefully that’s not too much) with a S/O that’s like Power?

(Take your time and have a nice day/night ^^)

S/O that acts like Power from Chainsaw Man

Genre : Fluff

Characters : Akane Sumire, Minamoto Kou, Mitsuba Sousuke, Yashiro Nene

TW : None

A/N : So sorry that it took me awhile to make your request, I tend to avoid things that are a bit difficult for me hehe, I could tell you really wanted me to do your request already so here it is

Just a bit of a warning, I can't guarantee that the personality and attitude will be the same but I'll try my best

I hope you enjoy 💗

Powers Personality :

Childish

Greedy

Rude

Entirely self-motivated

Cares for a select of friends

Has severe PTSD (Afraid of being alone)

Feels that people should clean up after her

Often claims she is capable of doing things she cannot actually do

No problem with gossiping and talking about her friends behind their back

Compulsive habitual liar

That's all the info I can find about her personality

Liar liar pants on fire

You were an absolute HANDFUL to watch over.

You'd sometimes run away creating minor trouble

I mean you blew up the science lab I don't know where minor came from.....

In your excuse, you thought you could do it—

After you met Kou, your life just turned a full 180

He would follow you everywhere

Making sure you don't get hurt

But mostly to keep you out of trouble

It was driving you nuts! You couldn't skip class to chase butterflies anymore

It was hard since both of you were in the same year

But you did found out something about him

He was very gullible.

You grumbled as Kou was pulling you back to his and his friends lair, it wasn't too bad around them, you just didn't wanna help clean up that stinky bathroom—

You had to escape. And fast

"Koouuu... I don't like it in theerree.." You whined, He didn't budge which made you click your tongue. And an idea came to mind.

"Kou, I just got a text from my mom saying that.. My dog died.." You put up your best sad acting in hopes he would fall for it, and he did. He stopped in his tracks as he looked back at you "What?! Toshiba died?!"

Kou absolutely LOVED your pet dog, he would use all types of excuses to swing by

You nodded your head sadly "Mom wants me back home so we can bury him.." Kou gently let go of your hand as he sighef softly "I'll swing by to say my goodbyes to Toshiba.." As soon as he gave your backpack back, you had a cheeky smile on your face

"Thanks!! Bye!!" You ran

"H-HEY. GET BACK HERE!!"

You were too fast for Kou, eventually he just gave up. He has to stop being so gullible

Ugh how dare you call me ugly!

Everyone envied you for your clear ang glowing skin

Anyone would need sunglasses it was that clear

Everyone wanted your secret but you didn't budge

Why? well you just wanted to be the only one with fair skin

Amongst those in tge ctowd wanting your skincare routine

A pink haired gentleman also wanted a grasp at your secret

I mean how can he keep being cute with such flaky skin?!

So he pulled you aside to ask but you were a bit too hard headed

Mitsuba groaned as he held on your arm "Come on! Just one product that you use and I won't bother you anymore!" He begged but you went silent pretending he wasn't there

"HEY. I KNOW YOUR IGNORING ME" Mitsuba yelled

You checked your phone time and continued to pretend he wasn't there. "What about this, I'll buy you WHATEVER you want, for just one product"

"Mud"

"Mud Mask?!" His face lightened up as he was probably the first you told your super secret fbi skincare

"Yeah, its good for the pigs skin after all"

Mitsuba gasped "How DARE you call me a pig! Look at yourself first skeleton!" He fired back

"Oh yeah Barbie?"

Mitsuba didn't wanna back down as he soat all sort of names at you

But you won, obviously

He pushed you out of their classroom as Kou, Satou and Yokoo witnessed the entire thing.

We're you grown on soil?

When Yashiro first met you, her first impression of you was that you were pretty Childish

Not that she hated it, She absolutely adored it

For.... some odd reason....

The way you act and talk like a child

You were so cute in her eyes!

but of course we know that every child is super curious of things right?

Well you started asking a bunch of nonsense to Yashiro

Like, how do fish swim, how do cars work

"Does tinkerbell exist?" Stuff like that

She sometimes questions how you got in the Rank 3....

"Nene-chaann~" You cooed as she stopped shoveling and looked at you "Uwaahh [F/N]! I thought you went home already?" She dropped her shovel and took off her gloved and walked up to you

"I got you an Ice Pop!" You gave her the green colored one as you ate the purple one "Thanks [F/N]! I was needing something to cool me down"

You scanned the field and noticed a bunch if holes she was digging, what was she gonna do? was she gonna plant? look for worms? DIG TO ANOTHER COUNTRY?

Or... Is she gonna plant her legs?

"Nene-chan, are you gonna plant your legs in their?" Yashiro coughed as she almost dropped her ice pop "W-WHAT?! I-I'M NOT!!"

"Ehh?? Isn't that how you got your daikon legs?"

Yashiro crumbled on the spot as she looked like she was needing any god out there to take her

After that, Yashiro forced you to go home as you watched her sulk from afar

I can do it see?! ahh.. Nevermind...

Sumire always enjoyed your company, and your help

Despite you fucking up every now and then she appriciates the company

Sometimes she'd tell you not to force yourself to do something you couldn't do but you never listen

Your excuse??

"I can do it don't worry! I'm a pro at this"

You ended almost burning the food, or knocking down something

So she just lets you stay back at home

You were one of Sumire's servants, although she didn't treat you like a servant

She treated you more like a friend now.

Sumire and Hakubo watched from a far as you messed up picking up flowers. You were pulling them by the stem and not digging to get the roots and ended up having a very withered out flower

"Are they dumb?..." Hakubo deadpanned as you continued to pluck withered out flowers, Sumire giggled as she placed down her tea cup and walked up to you to help

You saw her from the corner of your eyes walking up to you but you were signaling her not to come, but she did anyways. "Your flowers are withered now [L/N]"

You pouted "I said I could do it.."

"You clearly can not, here let me teach you how to harvest flowers" Sumire smiled at you

For the rest of the afternoon, she taught you how to pick up flowers, and make flower crowns. You've mastered them by now with the guidance of Sumire.

Now that she's gone, the only thing you could do without messing up

Was making flower crowns.

I caved

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG 😭😭😭, I also apologize if I the personality does not match up, I really dunno who Power is LMWODHWUD

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shoujo hanako kun #tbhk x reader #jshk #tbhk #Yashiro Nene #mistuba sousuke #kou minamoto #sumire akane