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#In all honesty I don’t like this piece that much but I worked too hard on it to not post it so :
cadaver-moss · 10 months
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✨🍿Movie Night🍿✨
Hey remember that drawing I did of Enna and Grimaldo watching Bear Centipede?
Well this time, he got to pick the movie :3
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moremaybank · 30 days
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okay I still cannot stop thinking about best friend jj and reader. Its mentioned her parents have body shamed her in the past and her mom makes that comment about her hips. What if it really got to her at one point and JJ is the only one who noticed. Not like a full blown eating disorder thankfully but that he noticed her skipping meals and he had to sit her down on his lap and tell her she was perfect...sorry just me thinking lol
eeek! first in between au request! thank you for the continuous love ♡︎ warnings reader skipping meals, body shaming (r's parents), bsf!jj being a sweetheart as usual [1k]
At first, it wasn’t a big deal. 
JJ was well aware that sometimes, when you were stressed, you’d forget to eat. He’d urge you to at least steal a few pieces of food off his plate (okay, maybe more than a few), and his mind would be at peace knowing that you were now fed and taken care of. 
But soon, he noticed that it became a daily thing. You’d tell him you weren’t hungry, or that you’d already eaten earlier, but then, he’d hear your stomach growling and watch you blatantly ignore it. You looked exhausted all the time, your physical strength was depleting. He’d watch you grow snappy at the smallest things, watch the way you’d pick at your food and move it around on your plate mindlessly every time you two ate together. Then, you’d dismiss his concerns with a forced smile.
After a few weeks had gone by, and your actions had remained the same, he knew something was up. He couldn’t stand to see you become a shell of who you usually were. There was no spark of wonder in your eyes. It was like all your hope had been sucked out of you. 
He also knew that your family was hard on you when it came to your body. And it sucked to admit, but at the beginning, he hadn't thought too much of it. Now, though, something was going on with his favourite girl and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. 
“Hey, you feel like goin’ to the Wreck? I'm feelin’ a seafood boil right now.”
You simply shrugged him off, your gaze remaining on the work in front of you. You’d been consumed in it all day, barely even blinking an eye in JJ’s general direction. 
“Not really hungry. I can come with you, though?”
Approaching you at your seat in front of your desk, his hands pried the pen from your hand, and he placed it down on the wooden surface. Then, he crouched down to get a better look at you.
“What’s goin’ on with you?” 
You turned away from him, scared of looking into his eyes. His tone indicated that you’d been caught. You should’ve known that he would pick up on your change in demeanour sooner or later. 
It was JJ.
Getting things past him simply was not a thing. It never was. 
Still, though, you’d make the effort even if it proved to be pointless. You weren’t sure the honesty was worth seeing the disappointment on his face. 
“Nothing. Jus’ not hungry.” 
“Y/N, I haven’t seen you eat a proper meal in two weeks.” 
“I said I'm good, J.” Your voice was bitter and sharp as you picked your pen back up, breaking free of his hold and trying to continue with your work. “If you wanna eat, go eat.”
He took the pen from your hand again, stuffing it in his pocket so you couldn’t get to it as easily. 
“You really think that by now, I don’t know when you’re actin’ up?” He held your face in his hands, ensuring that you couldn’t look away from him again. “Jus’ tell me what’s goin’ on so I can fix it.” 
“You can’t fix this, J.” 
He sighed softly, his thumbs swiping over the apples of your cheeks. “Try me.” 
You stalled for a moment. You didn’t want the judgement, You knew what he would say. 
Y/N/N, don’t listen to him. He’s a piece of shit. He has no idea what he’s talking about. 
If this was about anything else, maybe you would’ve believed him. But after hearing comments from your parents about your body for almost two decades…maybe their words had some truth to them, right? 
But when you looked into those oceanic puppy-dog eyes, it was as if he was willing the truth out of you wordlessly. Sighing, you broke free of his grasp carefully. You strolled over to your dresser, pulling your phone off of the surface and opening your messages on your way back to him. You handed him the device, the glow of your screen illuminating his face as it showed him the texts you’d received from your father earlier last week. 
You think your mother and I haven’t noticed how you’ve gotten fuller? Everything you’ve worn to our events lately has only made you look worse. A girl your age should be slimmer. We should get you on a diet, up your physical activity.”
If you don’t fix your appearance, you’re going to embarrass us in front of our colleagues. We can’t secure this deal if you’re looking plump.
I’ve had it. You shouldn’t accompany us anywhere for the next few months. Not until you get your weight under control. 
Rage bubbled deep in his core, threatening to swallow him whole. It had always puzzled him beyond belief — how your parents could look at you and see the complete opposite of what he had.
Perfection.
He tried to remain stoic. You’d never been happy when he got upset over things your parents had done in the past, and right now, when you were looking so pained, how could he make things worse?
“Y/N/N,” he said, hands bracing your shoulders. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” 
You couldn’t even find the courage to look up at him. You were too scared, too ashamed. You didn’t want his pity, you just wanted the voices to stop, and though you believed JJ could do anything, you weren’t sure if he could quiet that noise. 
It was too blaring. 
“You’re actin’ like there’s somethin’ to fix, but there isn’t. You’re perfect. I don’t care what your dress size is. You don’t need to be cuttin’ back. End of story.” 
“J, it’s just not that easy—”
His index finger found your lips, effectively shushing you and garnering your attention. “They’re wrong about everythin’ else, right?”
You nodded slowly. “…Yeah.” 
“So what makes ‘em right about this?” 
He got you good. He’d always had a certain way with you, and thank God he did. 
One of his hands abandoned your shoulder, finding your face instead. Blue eyes bore their soul into yours, trying to engrave how he viewed you into your brain. 
“Eat whatever the fuck you want. You’re beautiful, and you always will be.” 
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an-idyllic-novelist · 5 months
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stolas goetia with gender neutral!sinner!reader scenario
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warnings: spoilers for s2, angst, slight Stoliz, one-sided love, and possibly OOC for some of the characters.
The Goetian prince met you through Bltizy’s little assassination agency. You were an employee, specializing in reconnaissance within the human world and possessing knowledge of the mortal plane, amongst other jobs that required a more….delicate touch. Is that why you were good with knives and acrobatics? Probably. Either way, you were pleasant enough for a sinner and an easy conversationalist, much more so than his dear little imp. 
In all honesty, he did not pay much attention to you until after…the incident with Striker. It had been a close call, and he had almost died if Blitzø nor you hadn’t come to his rescue. He did check his phone for messages, and only got one text from the imp. After that…nothing. He never heard from him for the rest of the day. At least he thought he thought it was for the rest of the day. The drugs that were pumped into his body made Solas drowsy. When he woke up, there was someone in the chair.
But it wasn’t Blitzø. It was you. And still dressed in those dirty, bloodstained clothes you had worn the last time he saw you before he blacked out. As soon he moved in the bed, trying to readjust himself, you immediately bolted up from your seat, bleary-eyed yet you still had the energy to help him get comfortable before setting back down.
“Welcome back.” You said in a monotone voice, releasing a low groan. He winced slightly at hearing the bones in your neck being popped back into place as you moved your head from left to right.
“How do you feel? You need me to get the nurse? Bitch hasn’t been around since the shift change…’bout three hours ago? Christ on a stick it’s hard to keep track of time. Oh yeah, before I forget,” You stood from the chair again, rummaging in your pockets before pulling out a slip of paper, holding it out to him. “Your daughter called my cell. Dunno how she got it, maybe Loona gave it to her,  but she sounded pretty damned scared. Can’t blame the poor girl.” You narrowed your eyes, mouth curling into a contemplative frown. “It’s weird that she didn’t call you first. Maybe….she was worried your…spouse would change her mind and have Striker finish the job.”
He stared at you, wide-eyed and very confused at your attentiveness. “Why?” He whispered.
“Hm?”
“Why….are you here?” He asked. “Blitzy couldn’t make time to see me, so he sent you instead.” He felt tears building up in the back of the eyes, much to his embarrassment and frustration. “Why is it that he can send an employee yet he can never face me without making up an excuse that he’s working or it’s too soon to fulfill our arrangement!?” He snapped, feathery chest heaving up and down before he quickly wiped away his face with the back of his hand. 
You said nothing. Instead…you took a few steps toward him and sat on the edge of his bed. “No one sent me to check on you, Your Highness. I am here….because I was worried about you. No strings attached, no last minute requests from the boss. And I am honestly glad you are all right. You’re a Goetia, you’re stronger than tens of thousands of sinners like myself combined. But today was a close call. You could have died….and I should’ve been there sooner. No…Blitzø should have been on top of everything. I know he’s a father too, but Christ I don’t know what goes through that guy’s head sometimes.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “He’s a hot mess. He’s toxic.  He’s got issues….and he’s trying. That means a lot more than you think. But…if you feel like this…arrangement is going nowhere…cut yourself loose before you get too deep that you can’t pull out.” 
Stolas narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?” He asked. You didn’t answer him immediately; instead, you stood up from the bed and fluffed up his pillows, placed the piece of paper in his open palm  and strode over to the chair to collected the jacket you used as a blanket, heading towards the door but stopping with your hand hovering over the knob. You looked back at him. 
“I’ve said my piece, Your Highness. Visiting hours will be over soon, but I’ll make sure the nurse stops by here before the lights go out. I wish I could help you more, believe me…it’s just….you’ve got to sort out how you feel about my boss on your own. And seriously, give your daughter a call before she starts blowing up my phone in a panic-induced frenzy.”
You then left, closing the door softly behind you, leaving Stolas to ponder on your words and…his current situation. Sighing, he leaned forward, grabbing his Hellphone off the side table and dialing the number. 
What he did not realize at the time is that you did care about him, more than an assassin should care about their employer. All you wanted is Stolas to be happy, even if he might never find happiness with you.
Why else would you be leaning against the door outside of his room for almost ten minutes trying to calm your racing heart before going to find someone to check in on him?
Taglist:
@isuckatwritingsobenice
@thatstonedwriter
@myafterlifeisbetterthenyours
@angelltheninth
@vikkirosko
@nixie-writes
@nunezs-stuff
@mitra555
@lbcreations-blog
@chroniccorvus
@food-theorys-blog
@atttwoood
@crystalrose36
@aurora-rose-miller
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oh-saints · 5 months
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Hi I don’t know if you’ll get this but I have an idea for Rúben Dias, he starrs crushing on the female photographer for Man City and his teammates start teasing him, he doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks the photographer is dating someone ( but she’s actually single and is just introverted)
aaaaahh this feels close to home bcs i'd gotten mistaken so many times by men due to my introvert nature /sigh
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silent
rúben should really stop interpreting things out of hand on his own and start asking the right questions instead.
rúben dias x photographer!you
wc: 2.7k
note: here's is my comback piece! (is that even a valid word?) i actually had this idea in mind for a while and i love writing this bcs i can see he could make this kind of cute mistake! this actually hits closer to home, too, considering that i'm an intovert as well LOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.
happy new year too, everyone! i wish you'll have a blessed year ahead <3
“cupcakes!”
you groaned inwardly, that must be jack grealish. only the 100-million man would call you with overly sweet pet names like that, and he did it so often no matter how many times you corrected him that you had a real name during the first month of your employment here. now entering your third month, you’ve long given up, but you’d renamed his contact to be jack greasy on your phone.
“come sit over with us!”
unlike your nickname, though, you hadn’t given up on his persistent request to sit amongst his set of friends because good lord could they be so boisterous their laughter sounded more like a boom in your ears sometimes. their energy simply went off the roof and your introvert self could never handle it well.
you’d have your time to photograph everyone in the bus later anyway, so you gave him a polite smile, without another word, and proceeded to sit down beside your fellow media team.
you could hear jack screaming protest “aw, come on, cupcakes!” as you took your seat. his friends were laughing on his face at your rejection.
if you have your way, though, you’d badly want to be assigned to the calmer tide of the bus. the likes of julian, kevin, bernardo were more suitable for your kind. but being the one responsible for the disposable camera and all of city’s short off-pitch videos, jack and his circus were more than a matchmade in heaven for a better result.
before you had more complaints to mull over, your colleagues turned to face you and started babbling about an upcoming short video the both of you would have to make. the plot, the script, down to deciding who’d be best to be asked for to star in the video.
“i think rúben dias would do just fine.”
being a newbie, you nodded along the names he mentioned because in all honesty, you didn’t exactly know who is who and which is which until now. two months splattered all over the men’s and the women’s team, as well as the academy, was pretty much a guarantee you’d missed out on someone.
but you always, no matter how busy you are, spared some time to browse on the player before you met them, in case it was someone you should be worried for, or someone you should be thankful of for their media-darling persona, or someone you should be working twice as hard because they didn’t know what to do. worse, someone you’d worked together before but you forgot.
for rúben dias, though… you didn’t know which one of the categories above fitted him best. you were rendered speechless at your search bar result. you could bet your entire month salary that he was someone you had yet the chance to create a content together because if he already did, you wouldn’t have that face of his wiped off your brain.
which was exactly why you should be worried.
you had never worked with someone that looks like adonis when he decides to ascend himself from olympus. or so you’d like to think rúben was what adonis would’ve looked like if greek mythology happens to be true.
sadly, nobody warned you that he was even more beautiful up close, as he strutted his way to your creator team, with a tousled hair he kept tussling against, as well as the bright smile and warm laugh he’d drop here as he went through pre-production brief. his voice was so melodic it soothed all the soreness to your eardrums—thanks to jack grealish—in one simple video production, and you mentally thought you could replay the edited video later whenever you needed to go to sleep, like an asmr or some sort, because it really felt like a blanket on a rainy day.
your heart ached at the sight because my goodness… he was simply too beautiful for your own good.
it shouldn’t be doing all that jumping and leaping and drumming, though, because those were the early signs of you getting biased.
and it could only mean one thing in every professional language possible: bad.
with your very generous pay check on the line, you couldn’t afford to fail. so that day, you made a promise to yourself to do what you had to do, and thankfully it was what your introvert self do best.
*✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿*
while you knew what to do, rúben—on the contrary—seemed lost.
no, the portugese was lost.
contrary to popular belief, footballers are actually smart. at least, if they are not book smart, they’re definitely street smart. rúben would like to think he’s got a bit of both worlds, so it could justify his own judgement of you.
his eyes were keen, as his job required him to do so, and he’s got an incredible sensing, enough to read a gigantic elephant in the room when there was one. the combination scanned your change in attitude on the day he first worked with you and the present time.
you were so friendly and eager to work with him, welcoming his extended hand as he introduced himself to you for the first time. he remembered your smile, blinding against the bleak manchester weather but instead of feeling cold, he only felt warmth and fuzzy all over his body.
but as the filming session went on, your smile was close to non-existent, just like the probability of the two of you running into each other again. he initially thought it was only because you got so many takes already and the job exhausted you, but he later realised you were avoiding him. as subtle as you could anyway.
at the beginning, he only thought you missed the way he waved at you. or the time when he thought you put his row of seat last for a mandatory picture in your disposable camera, for aesthetics’ sake.
the time when he offered you a ride home, though—that was the final confirmation. the weather had started snowing on some days, and you were certainly freezing by the look of your shivering shoulders and teetering teeth, so rúben offered you a ride home. but you turned down the offer, ever so politely like usual. yes, yes of course you had the rights but the most logical thing was to accept them instead of waiting for the next bus, no?
(oh, believe him, he knew she was waiting. he managed to parked far away from your sight but close enough to see that you did indeed wait for the next bus to arrive and take you to the nearest station. he knew, and he remembered that day because it was the only day he had to fight himself from running down the street just to give you another layer of coat.)
his first instinct was to think that he’d wronged you somehow during the filming. was he demanding? was he not up to your par of filming standard? was he not good enough for your cameras?
but james, your fellow co-worker, the one who worked together with you for this project, gave him an utterly confused look. “have you seen how the videos turned out? you were brilliant, rúben. and no, i don’t think i’ve heard any concerns from her about your ethics.”
so what did he still not do right that could’ve upset you?
rúben didn’t like where this was going because you’ve kept him intrigued. you kept him on his toes, bouncing lightly like a child full of curiosity. you kept him thirsty for more information about you and what makes you tick, lowkey in hope to bring out the smile rúben himself didn’t know he had missed seeing.
and if he discovered that he did indeed upset you somehow, and was somehow responsible for the disappearance of your shy smile, then he’d like to right them right away. he has to.
with that mentality, rúben took the chance to clock out earlier—which was like the seventh wonder of the world around etihad academy—in order to catch a glimpse of you on your off-work routine. he’d set himself resolved to only ask necessary questions, not more nor less, without any hidden agenda. no wishy washy, unlike his previous trials.
rúben did actually catch you for a split second. his beak was already opening, he’d only needed his voice box to produce the sound to the question in his mind, but the scene unravelled before him halted everything in him. every particle of his body, every molecule of his brain.
a black car swerved into the lane to the lobby, a pretty prestigious car at that, and the way your face lit up so brightly reminded him of the day you first worked together. it was a sight that rúben missed, it was a sight that rúben longed to see again.
he was so blinded by the ethereal view that he completely forgot his own plan, and watched as the black car swallowed his portion of small happiness of the day.
was that your boyfriend? if yes, then did you take rúben’s friendliness as a romantical advance to you? if yes, then was that the reason why you immediately put up a china wall between you two? if yes, then was he that protective or was he simply possessive?
rúben couldn’t deny his own infatuation of you. maybe it was why he was adamant to right things good between the two of you. but if you did in fact have a boyfriend, then he should find a way to reduce and silence this growing feeling—be it really infatuation or merely curiosity.
“does she have a boyfriend?”
but desperate times need desperate measures, and rúben saw ‘the black car incident’ was his sign to speed things up in order to find a concrete answer. even if it included asking jack grealish about you.
jack snorted, rather snobby. “how would i know, mate?”
“i thought you guys are close.”
“your definition of close is concerning,” jack replied as he shut his locker. “why don’t you ask her yourself? aren’t you the type to just charge at it first, think later?”
“i would’ve if she didn’t give me a cold shoulder.”
“have you tried?”
rúben was the one who didn’t hold back his snort this time. “of course i did.”
“then maybe you were asking the wrong question, mate.”
*✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿*
as much as rúben hated to confess that jack actually had a point, he had to give hands down. he might be asking the wrong question, he might be asking too much question, he might be asking the right question with the wrong approach.
bottom line, he’d concluded himself that he had to try until he succeeded. each time in different approach, different variables. logically speaking, it should take him somewhere for a clue. if it didn’t, it should at least tire you enough to have you spell the answer to his queries.
rúben had gathered enough information that you and your team had wrapped up filming for christmas and new year’s content, complete with kids involved and all. you were supposed to stay in the editing room, and working late on it because there was a teaser—which fell into your line of work under “short videos”—to be uploaded tomorrow evening.
he purposefully slowed his pace for anything that did not require physical activities and trainings, resulting in him also staying late to finish some of his homework—his affectionate nickname for video trainings he’d like to execute at home, in the comfort of his abode and plush suede pillows—so he could match your pace of work. he planned to catch you off guard the same way as ‘the black car’ incident.
at 8, you finally went out of your cave, precisely like his little rat had informed him before. so of course, you were startled to find rúben already standing against the railing in front of your office.
“rúben,” your voice got stuck in your throat but rúben thought it was a cute squeak. it was also a better response, rúben thought, too. you could’ve spat at him or shooed him away immediately. “what are you doing here?”
“i’m—” rúben thought about lying for a second, but he decided it’d contribute nothing to a start of a friendship. yes, friendship, because it was the bare minimum, no? “i’m waiting for you.”
your eyes widened, and that was when rúben noticed the golden specks on the orbs of your eyes. heartbreakingly stunning, solely because rúben only noticed this now.
you shifted the weight of your body from your right leg to your left one, and rúben found it endearing because he noticed that was an early sign an introvert—you, in this case—was starting to get nervous or uncomfortable. rúben hoped it was the former because that’d put you as cute as an awkward lone penguin.
“is there anything i can help you with?”
“yes, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
with his devastatingly beautiful look, his velvet voice and his intensely deep brown eyes, your heart palpitated so fast and so irregular that you were afraid rúben could see them falling and getting back into its designated place like a bungee jumper.
or maybe the rope snapped on its way down and never found its way up again, depending on the question about to be fired at you. at this point, your mind went funnily white, and you were ready to succumb into either pressure or temptation, depending on the question he’d fire you with.
“do you hate me?”
you seemed perplexed at his blatant question, but he’d take that reaction over anything else because it was something, especially compared to the invisible wall you’d put up since the first time you both had worked together.
“do you?” rúben pressed his voice gently, while he took a step closer to you. slowly but assertively.
the movement snapped you back to reality. you should not heed into pressure, but there was no use in lying because in reality, you really had no reason to hate him. if you had your chance, you would’ve done things the other way around.
“no, i don’t.”
another step closer. “but have you ever hated me?”
realising the 6-feet centre back was doing, you involuntarily moved backwards in the same amount of steps that he did, albeit the distance reached was certainly and significantly a huge gap you could never keep. “no, rúben—”
before you could finish your sentence, he obliterated every single space left in between the two of you and cornered you to the nearest wall. “then do you like me?”
you should be running, you should be fleeing, you should be screaming down the hill. you should be anywhere but here, trapped in between the long, strong and sturdy pair of his arms, the very same one he used to defend himself and the ball from the opponent. the very same one your eyes couldn’t lie but appreciate its masculinity.
rúben noticed the miniscule movement of your eyes, despite your tightened body language, and it brought a little smile on the corner of his lips. maybe he had indeed asked all the wrong question in all the previous times he’d had the chance.
“tell me,” rúben then pronounced your name in the way no one else could, so soft and velvet like a fine cashmere being caressed against your eardrums, that shivers ran down your entire body as if you were struck by a lightning. “please tell me that, at least.”
so paradoxic, you thought inwardly at the sensation. and you supposedly hated the way he confused you, but you didn’t this time—you didn’t even detest the way he seemed enjoying this whole thing, by the way he pulled of a subtle smirk that busted your knees slowly but surely—and it made you even more crazy because what the hell was this?
you tried to mask it off by looking him straight in the eyes. well, tried to, at least, because the moment your eyes were connected with the milkiest brown orbs that reminded you of a hot chocolate on a wintry day, you couldn’t help but look away. “what do you want me to say?”
rúben didn’t fight a full smile from blooming on his face, as the tip of his finger aligned your face gently to face his. he really likes the fact you gave him a fair fight to remain indifferent still, even when everything else of your body failed to be your auxiliary. “do you like me?”
“i do—”
“then would you like to have a dinner with me tonight?”
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lesinquietes · 5 months
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Summary: Katsuki takes you to dinner. You find it difficult to keep your guard up when he’s so respectful and charming.
Adult!Bakugou x Forensic Detective!Reader
⚠️ drinking. suggestive themes. violence.
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Dinner with Katsuki is precisely what you dreamed it would be: seamless and firmly rooted in his brand of romance. He takes you to a place that serves authentic Indian food. It’s right near the station. As soon as you enter, rich aromas of masalas and spices waft past your nostrils. Immediately, you begin to salivate.
“Fuck, it smells good in here,” your date mumbles. “Can’t wait t’ dig in.”
“Tell me about it,” you mumble.
In no time, a waitress collects you at the door. She guides you to a table amongst a small crowd of people. A few of them take notice of Katsuki and whisper excitedly between each other. You gulp. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of dating a pro hero. What will publicity bring?
“Ignore ‘em.” The blonde says gruffly. “Tonight’s about me ‘n you, not any of these extras.”
You cringe. He’s certainly not afraid to voice his opinions, hoping intimidation is enough to keep gossipers at bay. Fortunately, he’s right.
You both take a seat. He sets your knapsack down on the chair next to you. The waitress hands you a couple of menus, and you take your time going through them. The table is quiet as you decide. The atmosphere is light and soothing. The nerves you felt at the start of your date are dissipating.
You order your food, as does he. A glass of wine for you, and a double of whiskey for him. The waitress scurries off to fulfill it, leaving the two of you alone again.
Your mind is racing. Breaking the ice is hard. His fiery gaze is boring into you and he doesn’t appear ready to chat anytime soon. The only thing you can focus on is the case you just solved, so you use that to toss your nervousness out the window and initiate conversation.
“S-so, I’m glad we caught him,” you stammer. “The villain, I mean. Today.”
He leans back in his chair and shrugs.
“Yeah. Piece of shit should rot in Tartarus f’r what he did.”
You nod absently. Where he’s going, you hope he isn’t able to harm anyone else. The suffering he’s caused the family of his victims is enough for one lifetime.
“Did you have trouble capturing him?”
“Nah.”
“Th-that’s good.”
“D’ya think I asked you out t’ talk about work?”
His brows are furrowed and his mouth twisted into a petite frown. You lick your lips, heat flooding your cheeks. That’s what you get for acting impulsively. Why are you so uncomfortable with silence?
“S-sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed. “I just… I guess I don’t know what else to talk about.”
Katsuki appreciates your honesty. In the past, he’s been on dates where his partner scrambled to fill the silence, eventually bringing up whatever vapid shit came to mind. He respects that you don’t fall victim to the same sort of urgency. It’s more natural this way.
“How ‘bout yourself?” He suggests. “Unless you’re tight-lipped about your personal life on dates, too.”
You laugh. At that moment, the waitress swings by with your merlot. She sets two wine glasses down and pours. You thank her and take a sip. A heavy, bitter flavour of berries greets your tongue. It’s not at all unpleasant.
“I just don’t like talking about myself at work,” you explain, putting down your glass. “And I don’t do much else these days, what with staff shortages, so I guess I’m not used to it.”
“You work harder than this stubborn bastard I know.”
He means it as a compliment. In his youth, Katsuki went through an identity crisis and blamed him for the insecurities it caused; nevertheless, his bond with Izuku has only grown in adulthood — for the better. Now, he acknowledges his conscientiousness and potential as a true hero.
“Your friends aren’t buggin’ ya?” He inquires. “If I’d known you don’t cut yourself any breaks, I’d’ve asked you out sooner.”
It’s feels nice to be fawned over. Prior to today, you had no clue he harboured such a fascination for you. Although you want to take his attraction at face value, you have your guard up. You’re not looking for friends with benefits; you’re seeking a companion in him. If he thinks he can talk sweetly to you for the purpose of getting in your pants, he’s got another thing coming.
“They know I’m busy.” You brush off his concern with a smile. “And we see each other here and there.”
He props up his elbows on the backrest of his chair and stares across the room distantly, eyes fixated on the kitchen doors. You don’t blame him; you’re starving, too. You think he’s abandoned the topic, when he speaks.
“As long as you’re not workin’ yourself into the ground. Think I’d like t’ keep seein’ ya.”
It isn’t much longer until your food arrives. The waitress sets down the dishes and utensils; then, she wishes you a good meal and excuses herself. You spend the rest of your time chatting intermittently about the flavours, sharing food between each other, and enjoying your meals. When you finish, it’s later in the evening. You’ve emptied your wine glass twice, as has he with his whiskey. You’re in good spirits.
He orders two cups of tea for dessert. As you sip, he wonders about your family and which part of town you live in. Likewise, you ask him about his development into one of the top pro heroes in Japan. You discover he doesn’t like to boast. He mentions his passion for honing his quirk and being “the best” in his youth. He describes how Best Jeanist, a former Billboard Hero, taught him to concentrate more on contained survival than reckless showing off. All in all, he keeps his story short and sweet.
It sounds like he’s been through a lot. You’re surprised someone with such an action-packed life is into you. The edgiest thing you’ve ever done was taking out a loan to attend graduate school. You thought he would have preferred another hero. Then again, the idea of seeing another forensic detective doesn’t do it for you. You’d rather leave work where it is and retire after a long day. Maybe Katsuki feels the same.
“Well?” He prompts you gruffly.
You blink absently. Did he say something while you were lost in thought? You lift a brow and hum, prompting him to clarify. He rolls his eyes playfully, picking up on how the alcohol has distracted you.
“What did’j’ya think of the meal?”
You beam at him.
“I loved it!”
“You sure? I won’t be offended.”
“Positive! I really enjoyed myself. Thank you, Katsuki.”
You catch a brief smile fluttering across his face. Just as soon as it appears, though, it’s gone. He feels like an idiot for getting flustered by something so simple, but he likes listening to you, and every syllable of his name sounds like heaven on your tongue. In his teenage years, you eliciting this sort of vulnerability would have infuriated him; as an adult, he knows how to calmly identify his emotions and reel them in.
He fucking likes you — that’s the truth. You’re bright and interesting. You encourage him engage with his thoughts and opinions, instead of dismiss them. He’s compelled to learn more about you. He gets the sense that he could converse with you for days and not get bored. You’re a rare breed.
“Ready t’ go?” He prompts you. “I’ll pay and we can head out.”
“You don’t have to pay,” you insist. “I can afford my half.”
“Fat fuckin’ chance.” He snorts. “Lemme get this this one f’r us, princess.”
You huff. Normally, you would want to pay; that way, there are no expectations for later. You’re not sure if you want to put out tonight. He’s playing all his cards right, and the tension is there, but you don’t want this to be a one night stand. When you have crushes on people, you mean them.
“Well… okay.” You concede. “But only if I can get the next one.”
“We’ll see.”
“Hey! C’mon!”
“Grab your shit an’ let’s go.”
You groan as you slip on your windbreaker and grab your knapsack. He’s already at the counter, settling the tab. Katsuki escorts you out of the building with a hand on the small of your back. In no time, you’re back on the street.
At this time of night, there aren’t many people walking around. It’s mostly other couples, pacing home or simply enjoying the evening together. The atmosphere is serene. A gentle wind tousles the leaves, adding to the tranquility. You shiver.
Katsuki walks head of you; then, he extends his hand for you to take. You do so with only a smidgen of hesitation this time, trying to trust your budding feelings for him. He reels you closer. Your palms touch his firm chest as he secures you against him. He gazes at you with a ghost of a smirk.
“So, you want there t’ be a next time?”
Reflexively, you laugh. Your face burns as you scramble to respond. You’re not used to being teased this way.
“Um… yeah. I-I guess I do.”
“No more pretendin’ you’re not inta me, then.”
“When you started flirting with me, I thought you were just bored,” you admit sheepishly. “But I k-kinda had a crush on you.”
His grip on you tightens.
“Had?”
“Have.”
“S’what I thought.”
Katsuki isn’t sure if it’s the whiskey or how easy it is to talk to you, but he feels comfortable around you. He wasn’t sure if it would translate as well outside of work — in his eyes, you had the potential to be too good for him. If you want him like he wants you, perhaps there’s a shot. Besides, you’re bound to understand his busy schedule and odd hours, what with you being in law enforcement. So what if you’re not a hero? He’s merely looking for someone he can sync up with.
“Look, I ain’t great at expressin’ my feelings ‘n shit, but I thought you were cute as soon as you showed up t’ that crime scene. Showed me you were smart, too. Down t’ earth. Not just a fuckin’ stiff in a tight skirt.”
You draw yourself into the memory. When you received the call, you arrived earlier than everyone else with your equipment. Officers were stationed around the perimeter, blocking all pedestrian points so you could do your work. Apparently, the victim was a big deal — that’s why Dynamight was assigned to your case. Half of his job was to protect you; the other half was to commence takedown of the scumbag murderer.
You thought he was annoying and pompous when he first appeared, sauntering around the scene like he was in charge. He seemed disinterested, as though he’d rather be doing something else. You didn’t love his attitude. But then, as he started to help — flirting with you, in the process — you witnessed a different side of him. Maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t care, but more so that he desensitizes himself to function.
Despite the rumours about him, you recognize that Katsuki has feelings. He gives a damn about victims and keeping civilians safe. Although he’s brash and aggressive in nature, his heart isn’t as icy as people think.
“I always thought you were handsome,” you admit shyly, averting your eyes. “Whenever I saw you on TV, I mean.”
He smirks.
“You’re not a fuckin’ super fan, are ya?”
“No!” You grin. “You’re just always on the News for breaking things, so you’re pretty hard to miss.”
He snorts. You glance at him to see if you crossed a line with your comment. Joy fills your soul when you catch him rubbing his jaw with a large hand, no doubt to hide another smile. If you were anyone else, he’d tell you to fuck off. Because you’re you, he feels his attraction to you soar.
“Shut the hell up an’ tell me when you’re free next week.”
And he seals the deal with a light peck on the cheek. He fights the urge to capture your sweet lips once more, hoping that one day, he won’t have to.
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book-place · 2 months
Text
To Avoid is to Hurt
Warnings: slight violence and injury, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Remus Lupin x sister reader, James Potter x reader platonic
Request: Heya! Could i make a request where the reader is remus' little sister and one day she decides to follow him, james, sirius and peter on the full moon night to try to help, but ends up being hurt by him? It turns out that after that remus obviously feels guilty and thinks the way to deal with it is to ignore her, but after the reader asks james for help to get his brother back and james talks to him, remus realizes the mistakes he's been making with your little sister?
Request by: Anon
*not my gif*
Summary: James helps the Lupin siblings through a rough patch
A/N: Wow it’s been a while- I don’t feel like proof reading so I’m not gonna
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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You were tired of sitting by and doing nothing
Month after month, you watched from afar as your brother struggled with his condition, the only people he let help him with it being his three best friends
But why should they help and you shouldn’t?
You were his little sister after all, it was your job to look after him more than it was theirs
James had warned you time and time again not to get involved, that it wasn’t what Remus wanted
In fact, your brother apparently begged him, Sirius, and Peter back during their second year- and your first- to make sure that you stayed as far away from him as possible when full moons rolled around
As if you hadn’t been dealing with them with him all of your life
This time would not be like the other times
The other times where you lost sleep and were sick with worry
This time, as you watched from behind a tree as Sirius, James, and Peter snuck into the Whomping Willow, you trailed after them, keeping enough distance where they wouldn’t notice, but not too much where you would fall behind
You always knew that they went to the Shrieking Shack during this time- James had told you to try and soothe your worries over your brother- but you had never actually been inside
In all honesty, there was fear resting in your stomach as you looking around the old, rundown place
As stealthily as you could, you crept up the stairs, following the sounds of muffled groans of pain
Those sounds had been enough to shatter your heart into hundreds of tiny pieces
When you reached the top of the stairs, you peaked through the cracked open door, the only thing you were able to see was the back of a werewolf you knew all too well to be Remus
In your defense, you had barely even made a sound, but your brothers heightened senses made it so that he somehow knew you were there
The werewolf had whipped around so fast you barely had time to let out more than a yelp, glancing to the side just in time to see a stag, dog, and rat freeze in place
The stag lunged forwards at the same time Remus did, but James was too slow
Remus had reached out and thrown you across the room before you could so much as blink
You were out as your head hit the wall
It took two days for you to wake up, and when you did, you were lying in a bed in the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey fussing over you
Your eyes were taking their time adjusting, but when you felt someone squeeze your hand gently, you turned your head to the side, hopes high to see your brother sitting there
Instead, your heart sank the tiniest bit when you saw James, giving you a small smile that looked a bit like a grimace
“How are you feeling?” His voice was soft
“Where’s Remus?” Was your immediate response
If you knew your brother like you thought you did, then you knew damn well that he would already be destroying himself over this
Something that wasn’t even his fault
This time, James flinched a little, pulling his hand back to run it through his already messy hair
“He figured it would be better if he wasn’t here when you woke up.” The boy admitted
You couldn’t help it, the tears that sting your eyes, not just at the throbbing pain in your head
After that, only a day passed before you were cleared to leave and go back to your dorm
Instead of Remus being there to help you back, though, Sirius, Peter, and James had been there
Three more days passed without any sign of your brother
And it stung
Anytime you entered the common room, you would be informed that he just left
Whenever you were hoping to catch him in the great hall, he was apparently staying after with a professor
It was almost as if you didn’t even have a brother
He was avoiding you, that much was obvious, but what was even more obvious, was how much it was hurting you
It was getting to the point where you were struggling with sleeping, and therefore having a hard time paying attention in classes
And even though all of your friends noticed your sudden change, James was the one to take it most to heart
He hated seeing you like this, but moreso, he knew how much it was killing Remus too
His friend had confided in him while you had still been unconscious, telling him that he hated himself for what he did to you, and how he wanted to make sure he never hurt you again
At first, James hadn’t known what to do, but now, he knew it was time for Remus to get over this, move past it, so that the Lupin siblings could once again reunite
It had only taken thirty minutes for James to set his plan into action, another fifteen before it actually took place
He waited outside of Slughorn's classroom, where Remus was doing some extra credit work, and the moment the boy stepped out the door, James had grabbed onto his collar and began dragging the much taller boy down the closest hall until they came to a secluded area
“Prongs, what the bloody hell-”
“You need to get over yourself.” James spat the words out so fast, “You are absolutely killing that poor girl by avoiding her, and you’re doing the same to yourself in the process.”
Remus felt his heart skip a beat, “How’s she doing-”
“Terrible.” Came the brutally honest answer, “All thanks to you avoiding her like a prick. She’s not mad at you about what happened, you idiot. She’s mad at you for avoiding her afterwards.”
Those words were like a slap across Remus’s face, but it was what he needed to be snapped back to reality
That was all it took for him to rush to the common room, where James had said you would be
Seconds of silence passed between the two of you, just standing there, staring at one another before he finally spoke
“I’m so, so sorry, n/n.” He whispered
Sorry for what had happened, and about not being there afterwards
That was all it took for you to spring across the room and leap into your older brothers arms, both of you holding each other tightly
The Lupin siblings were going to be okay now, all thanks to James Potter
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ovaryacted · 4 months
Note
Tysm for your kind messageeee! I've been going around to my fav writers bc it's helped me feel better about myself and my brain multiple ways. Trying to get better at writing by at least posting smth daily abt Leon cause practice makes perfect. (Usually not but let's hope otherwise 😭)
ASIDES FROM THAT... Hear me about lingerie with Leon bro like ACTUALLYYYYY
Just imagine him secretly buying lingerie and one day he randomly puts it on. Either laying in your bed or waiting for you awkwardly at the door. Possibly giving you a lap dance then proceeding to fall back or do a ruh-roh. I'm so sorry I need him to fall in lingerie. I NEED STUPID LEON STUFF SO MUCH BRO. Then if he was in the bed, he's trying to be all seductive and stuff. All while staring at you with those blue eyes. In all honesty, you just have to stand there and wonder what the hell? I need a professional opinion on Leon with lingerie. 💙✨
(+ Cat Hug 😌)
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Hey boo, thank you for the cat hug MUAH 💋 ! I’m glad my words were kind for you, sending nice messages definitely helps spread some positivity. And nono practice does make perfect!! Keep posting, don’t stop, trust me the more you do it the better it’ll feel. (Don’t listen to me because I’m inconsistent as hell when it comes to writing LMFAOOOO). But blurbs and drabbles help all the time, and even if you aren’t physically writing, planning or thinking still counts as part of the process because it’s not always linear! Just have fun with it, all that matters truly!
Now Leon in lingerie…I’m listening. Listening real fucking closely. Walk with me for a second.
Personally, I think he’d look good in a thong + garter belt + garter combo, not so much a top (boobs too big) unless it’s like a bikini top. Leon to me looks like the type of guy that’s a fan of materials, so lace, latex, leather, silk, etc. The same way he likes seeing you in lingerie and feeling it on your skin, it’s mostly a sensory thing for him when he tries it on for himself.
Imagine his muscular form adorning something so delicate, that in itself is a contradiction and it’s what makes it so enticing. A grown ass man whose body has been trained to fight things twice to triple his size and strength, now wearing something that could tear if he flexed too hard. But especially his fucking thick THIGHS. Him wearing a thin lace thong that wouldn’t be able to hold all of him in cause of his hips and how wide he is. Any wrong move and that thing will snap apart. But the garter belt and garter duo?? That’s probably the sexiest thing he could wear.
Black lace around his waist only further highlights his hourglass figure, and the way it connects to the strap wrapped around his thighs is just chefs kiss. He’d look up at you with a little smirk on his face, feeling bashful and trying to downplay it or seem more confident than he is cause deep down he’s nervous. It’s like unwrapping a Christmas gift, the way all the pieces work together to make him pretty, how you’ve always thought of him to be. Your eyes just rake over him, growing darker under the light of your bedroom and you’re ready to pounce on him.
It’s even better when you don’t take the lingerie off of him when you fuck him. Rubbing him through the thong will get him into a whimpering mess, and he’ll start to beg for more, staining the material and thrusting his hips up towards your hand to get more friction against his cock. You’d also keep the garter belt on and tug on the lace garter when you suck him off. Pulling his thighs up and fucking into him with your strap, you can really admire him in the lingerie, and it’ll only get him closer to falling apart. He’s just perfect, your pretty doll to tear apart and make a mess out of.
I approve of Leon in lingerie. This message has been stamped and added to the Sub Leon case file.
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kelogsloops · 2 months
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putting this in the tumblr ask box bc idk where else to put it 🕺 does anyone even read these still
anyways i just woke up but i had a dream and you were a big part of it- i don’t want to say it was a nightmare or like a bad dream but like basically in the dream you announced that you would be quitting art and like retiring ig? it was for a few reasons but in that moment idk i just realized just how much you have had an influence on my life- you know that saying “you don’t know what you have until you lose it”? yeah…
honestly at first when i woke up i was so ready to call it a nightmare, like “oh my god?? you?? leaving?? forever?? noooo!” but as i’m sitting here awake now i realize eventually it’s probably gonna happen- maybe not in the way it was in my dream with you making a whole like announcement video and wiping your accs, but maybe quieter. i wonder if it’ll be that you stop making art, but i find that hard to imagine. i think it would happen slowly, less and less posts as the years go on. in my head even if you stop posting it, i’d think you’re still creating, making art for simply the sake of such. but then i think about how silly that thought is though, i don’t know you outside of your social media bubble. i don’t know your life and what happens there so to even assume something so quiet is pretentious of me. 
like i said, at first i thought it was a nightmare, i can’t bear the thought of you leaving one day- especially for the reasons you gave in my dream it was like “i gave up, arts getting too much for me, and things are so competitive now no one wants my art anymore…” blah blah blah. it was all my own stress as an artist manifesting onto you i think- but anyways i hope that should the day ever come where you do end up leaving your socials and whatnot, i can only hope that it’s out of your own accord and you do so because you want to, not out of pressure or anything like that. like i’m not saying i want you to quit or anything, but what i’m saying is if it happens i just hope it’s something that you chose on your own. i just don’t think i could ever stand that happening though without letting you know how much of an impact you’ve had on my life. 
i found your art when at a very developmental part of my life, so your work wether consciously or not i think has just become like a part of my brain wether conscious or not haha. whenever i go to draw even if i don’t explicitly go to look to your work for inspiration, it’s still there i can see it. it’s like just unconsciously ingrained at this point. but more than that though the whole idea of like “brb chasing dreams” and whatever and the whole idea that i feel you impart every time you share pieces of your journey as an artist to just keep going, i kind of stole that mantra for myself and started to tell myself that as well. even at my lowests, i’m still trying to follow that dream, even lost and i don’t know what direction i’m going in there’ll always be that dream as an anchor almost.
thank you for all that you’ve shared and thank you for being the biggest inspiration in my life. i know that’s quite dramatic to say, but i mean it in full honesty. whatever the future holds for you, i hope it’s kind. i hope you live a long life chasing all your dreams where at the end of the day, you’re happy. thank you. 
waking up to find a message like this in my inbox has me feeling t e a r y. it's reading stories like these and hearing how my work has impacted people that makes this all feel so surreal sometimes. the fact that people would even care if i stopped making art one day or just disappeared is crazy... i'm very fortunate!
i've resigned myself to the fact that sure, one day (but hopefully never) i won't be able to pursue a professional career as an artist anymore, but if there's one thing that i can promise, it's that there is no reality in where i stop making art!
i don't know if i show it enough, but to each and every one of you who have been part of my journey so far, thank you from the bottom of my heart. it's messages like these that pinch me and remind me how it's all so worth it
forever #brbchasingdreams
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malarkgirlypop · 6 months
Text
He's the Boss Part 2 (Bull Randleman x F!Reader)
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HI! I am mean and there is going to be a part three. It's gonna be spicy! But for now here is part two, hope you all enjoy! He is one fine looking man ugh! Someone find me a bull to ride! ok I need to calm down ahaha. Based on the HBO show and the actor who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.
I huffed in frustration, my hair wasn’t sitting how I wanted it too. I spent ages getting ready, wanting to look nice for once when we went out. I had showered, even shaved, with one of George’s razors I had stolen. My legs felt and looked silky smooth, which was good, as I was wearing the women's formal army attire. Which included a skirt, button up top, and a fitted jacket. When it was put altogether it looked nice, it hugged my curves, giving me an hourglass figure. I was trying to pin my hair back so it looked tidy but it was being stubborn, not wanting to sit in the way I had placed it down. I rummaged through the draws, trying to find anything that could help my cause.
“Ah ha!” I said in success, pulling out a can of hairspray that was discarded in one of the cupboards. I sprayed the piece that kept popping up. I waited for a moment for it to dry fully before removing my hand. I pulled my hand away slowly holding my breath, the hair stayed in its place. I moved on to my makeup, not having much with me, but the nurses I had met in the aid station were nice enough to give me one of their red lipsticks and a mascara. I drag the red tint over my lips, rubbing them together, and then coating the black liquid onto my eyelashes. I stepped back to admire my hard work. Surprisingly enough I looked like a girl. I hadn’t seen her in a while. I grinned happily with the results. I pulled on my heels, I didn’t want to wear them but the outfit would look old with big clompy combat boots covered in mud. I took one last look in the mirror when someone knocked on the door to my room. “Come in.” I called as I straightened my tie. 
I heard a whistle from behind me, “My, my, my, doesn’t she dress up nice.” I posed for George as he grinned. “Give me a twirl.” I spun around in a circle as he asked. “You look beautiful.” His voice full of honesty. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, soldier.” He clicks his heels together giving me a silly salute. He offers me his arm as we make our way out into the foyer to meet with the other men who are coming with us to the pub. We had decided we would all walk there together since it wasn’t that far away. 
“Oh Y/N who are you all dressed up for, surely it isn’t us.” Lieb said as he admired my outfit. I smiled at him. 
“Maybe I’ll meet a nice guy down at the bar, who knows.” I tease. Someone clears their throat from behind me. I know who it is before I even see them. I turn to see Bull. I gulp. My eyes dragged down his body and back up to his face. I have alway appreciated his looks, I can’t deny he isn’t a good looking guy. But something about him clean shaven in formal attire brings heat to my cheeks. My heart pounds in my chest, no one speaks, as we stare at each other. His soft smile graces his face. 
“You look amazing darling.” He says in his country accent. I have to stop my knees from giving way underneath me. I didn’t know getting a compliment could feel this exhilarating. 
“You look very handsome Bull.” The men awww from behind us in a teasing matter. I laugh feeling exposed. 
“Shall we go?” Bull says to the group, who agree, making their way out the door, “Don’t pay attention to them, they’re just jealous you didn’t tell them they looked handsome.” He placed his hand on the small of my back as we walked together. My breath hitched in my throat. He’s your boss Y/N. I tried to not think about his large hand on my back as we walked. But it was a hard thing to try and ignore, the way my body reacted to his soft touch. The prickle of my skin under his hand was driving me insane. I was trying to listen to the conversation he was having with Luz but all I could focus on was how good his hand felt on my body. Stop it! 
We arrived at the bar, I almost whined in frustration when his hand slipped off my back. I widened my eyes at myself, shocked from the reaction I almost let slip. I smiled at him as he opened the door for me. Why is he so thoughtful, curse his good manners. His mother raised him too well, and it wasn’t in my favour. I joined the men in the booth, we had to squeeze in so that we all fit. I was squished between Babe and Bull. Luz stood in front of the table asking who wanted what, after a while of everyone yelling random drinks he told us to get fucked and that we would all get beers. We laughed as he stormed away to the bar. I shook my head at the man. 
“How you deal with him Y/N, I will never know.” Bull jokes, he leans down closer to my face so that I can hear him over all the noise. The smell of his cigar that he smokes wafts over my face. I had grown accustomed to the smell since being friends with the man. I quite enjoyed the smell now, as I associated it with him. If I smelt the smokey, sweet aroma of the tobacco I knew he wasn’t far behind. 
“Can I try that?” I asked without thinking, he looked shocked, he knew I didn’t smoke. 
“Are you sure darlin’?” He asked, I nodded my head. He passed me the cigar, I put it between my lips. It felt oddly intimate, having my lips on something he had previously had his own lips on. I inhaled the smoke, god it was strong, it burnt my throat on its way down. I coughed and spluttered, the smoke didn’t taste as good as it smelled. I was handed my beer, I chugged it down trying to relieve the burn in my throat. I downed my whole beer in one go. The men around the table watched me in shock. I heard the familiar sound of Bull’s laughter, everyone else joined in, once they knew I was ok. 
“Y/N are you ok?” Bull asked through chuckles. I laughed nodding my head. Someone else passed me their beer, getting up to go and order another one. 
“I don’t think I have seen someone as small as you down a pint that fast.” He said surprised. I don’t think I have ever chugged a drink that fast before, but I needed something to quell the fire in my throat. 
“Thank you!” I grin at him taking the compliment, he smiles at me, his hand coming out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. In doing so his fingertips drag along my cheek, the tingling returning where he touches. I gazed into his bright blue eyes, fighting the urge to lean forward and press my lips to his. A loud cheer pulled us from our brief moment, Bull removed his hand from my cheek as I leaned back. 
“Yeah I don’t think I’m a smoker.” I coughed trying to clear my throat. “How is your throat not raw?” I asked 
“You get used to it.” He smirks down at me. I laugh nodding my head. I spent the night stuck in the booth pressed to Bull’s side. I didn’t mind, in fact I rather enjoyed it. Being in the corner of the booth we seemed to be in our own little world. I only spoke to him for the majority of the night. 
“Y/N!” George slurred, grabbing my arm and tugging me. “Let’s dance!” I laughed letting my very inebriated friend drag me from my seat and onto the dance floor. I couldn’t stop laughing, George was so drunk he was doing the most outlandish dance moves. I stood in front of him just roaring with laughter. He would grab my hands and spin me around, then he would pause almost throwing up from the spinning. I wiped the tears from my eyes as he drunkenly grinned at me. 
“I think I need to sit down.” He mumbled stumbling away. I laughed watching him go, he crashed down into the booth the Easy men still occupied. I stepped forward to also make my way back to the booth, surely it was nearly time to leave. I was stopped in place, I turned to see who had grabbed my elbow. A man I didn’t know but wore his uniform smiled at me. 
“You look stunning!” He flirted. 
“Thank you.” I expressed my appreciation for the nice compliment. 
“Your friend isn’t a very good dancer.” I laughed at the statement shaking my head, in this state he indeed was a terrible dancer. 
“He is normally better at it when he isn’t so drunk.” I assured the man who still had hold of my elbow, and was standing very close. I took a step back to create some distance but the man followed after me, not giving me the space I wanted. I tried to subtly pull my arm back but even that he had a firm grip on. 
“How about you have a dance with me?” He asks, grinning at me. 
“Oh I would but I think our group is leaving.” I excuse myself politely, but the man doesn’t get the hint. 
“That’s ok I can walk you back after we are finished.” He insists. I glance around, I can’t see any of the Easy men around to ask for help. I give a tight lipped smile to the man.
“That’s very nice of you, but I have to take care of my friend, see he is-” I whimper as the man’s grip on my arm tightens further, his finger’s digging into my skin. He yanks me forward. The smile dropped from his face. “Dance with me.” It isn’t a question or a request, it's a command. I have faced men with guns who want to kill me, but in this moment I don’t think I have been more afraid. People surround us but I can’t seem to ask for help. No one seems to notice how close the man stands to me, how uncomfortable my demeanour is. 
“Can you let go, you're hurting me.” I whispered, too afraid to raise my voice any louder. He didn’t do as I asked, keeping his hold on my arm. 
“The lady asked to be let go!” I heard from behind me, I instantly sighed, Bull’s voice was loud and assertive. I could feel him behind me. I didn’t even have to turn around to know what face he wore. I knew it was his scary one, because the man holding my arm instantly dropped it like it had burnt him and scampered away without another word. 
I rubbed the inside of my elbow, trying to ease the pain from where his fingers dug into my skin. I turned to face Bull. I sent him an appreciative smile, but he didn’t return it. My face dropped, was he mad at me too. But I looked again, no it wasn’t anger on his face, it was concern. His brows furrowed together and his lip drew down at the sides. 
“Thank you Bull.” I stepped forward and hugged the man gently, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his chest. His arms came around me returning the hug gently. 
“Are you ok?” He asked as we embraced. I nodded, not looking up at him. “If that ever happens again Y/N, you call for me immediately.” He pushed me back so I was looking at his face as he spoke, he looked very serious. 
“You’ll be the first one I call!” I smile at him, he nods finally letting a small smile fall on his lips. “Are we heading back yet? My feet are killing me.” I was ready to go home and crash, I looked over Bull’s shoulder. Easy men looked like they were getting ready to leave. Poor George was slung over Perco's shoulder, barely able to stand. I watched as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, as Frank almost fell over from the man not helping at all. Perco hit him in the side, muttering things to him, I’m sure he was cursing him for being so drunk. Bull turned his attention onto what I was watching too. I stood close as we people watched, laughing together when Perco tried to start walking and George stayed in place. 
“Do you think we should help them?” I asked, still laughing but feeling bad for Frank. 
“Yeah. I think Frank is going to murder George, look at him he looks so mad.” Bull and I chuckled. It was so funny to watch. We made our way over, I draped Luz’s free arm around my shoulder as Perco thanked me. 
We walked in the cool night air. Perco and I just basically dragged the very inebriated George home. His head hung low, and his eyes were closed but he made some effort to try and walk. It was hard work. 
“God George you’re so fucking heavy!” I puffed, readjusting his arm around my shoulder. If my feet were killing me before, now they are dead. Stupid heels. Bull followed beside me. The Easy men who weren’t so drunk had walked ahead of us because we were so slow, but Bull stayed behind to keep us company while we walked Luz home.
Bull and I took Luz up to his room. We placed him down on the bed, Bull took off his jacket while I pulled off his boots. I almost yanked him off the bed, his boots were on so tight. I pull his left boot as Bull undoes his tie, leaning his head back on the pillow. 
“You got it?” He asked after he was finished, watching me struggling. 
“Almost.” I said through gritted teeth. I gave it a good tug, it came loose sending me flying back onto the floor. I burst out laughing, Bull joining in. I smile wryly at him. We tucked Luz into bed, leaving a glass of water on his nightstand for if he needed. 
Bull walked me back to my room. I walked inside, but he stayed outside. I kicked off my shoes, happy to have them off my feet. I turned grinning at the man, he leaned in the doorway just watching me with a smile. 
“Thank you again for helping me tonight. But I also wanted to thank you for the rest of the night as well. I had so much fun, I’m glad you came.” I walked so we were closer, he was still propped up in the doorway looking down at me. 
“I had fun too, I’m glad you asked me to come.” We just smiled at each other, not saying anything. The tension was palpable. I realised that I didn’t want to impress him because he was my boss. I had secretly known that months ago, it was an excuse to hide my true feelings. My true feelings were that I liked this man, more than I have ever liked anyone in my life. No one else has made me feel the things that Bull does. All he needs to do is smile at me and I melt. George was right, I am smitten. I looked at him, did he like me the way I did? Maybe I should see? I stepped forward, we were almost touching. I could feel the warmth from his body radiating off of him. I waited testing the waters, I didn’t want to pounce on him. He held my eye contact, the smile falling from his lips. It was as if gravity was pulling us together, like two magnets. I was so close to his face, we jumped back when we heard a door slam down the hall. He cleared his throat standing straight. The moment had passed, I stepped back. 
“Darling, if you need anything, come get me.” He said as he tapped my chin.
“Goodnight darling.” He smiled at me as he closed my door, leaving me standing in the middle of the room. I stared at the door, willing it to open, for him to come back in, but it didn’t happen. I heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. He was too polite to come barging back in like I had wanted. I sighed getting ready for bed.
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robo-milky · 1 year
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[MORE INFO]
Nicknames:
Brittle Star (Floyd) | Monsieur Fontaine (Rook) | Mr. Leikata/Leikata-sensei (Idia) | Lei (Neige)
Bio:
Leikata is an expressive boy who’s always honest to himself. Whenever he feels happy, sad, or angry, his body’s natural reaction is to tear up. As a result, his peers mistook him for an irrational crybaby. Contrary to this, Leikata is someone who can speak clearly and calmly in tears. Additionally, he’s gained a reputation for being a “pretty cryer”. This does not make Leikata ashamed, he instead embraces it as a natural side of him. Leikata believes it’s best to let loose and go with the flow, than bottling everything up. Moreover, Leikata’s heart bleeds as much as he cries. Leikata is not just sensitive to his feelings, but others’ as well. If he feels like he did something wrong, he will gladly admit and bring attention to it, even if the other party can’t care less. This is also the reason Leikata can’t lie, the guilt would have eaten him alive.
Core values -> Honesty + Peace
Background:
Leikata’s father is a renowned artist in Twisted Wonderland, known for his craftsmanship of using purely paper to make masterpieces. As a result, Leikata followed his father’s footsteps and became somewhat of an apprentice, working under him for exhibitions and galleries. At the age of 12, Leikata discovered his own UM, “Paper Plans”, and started to surpass his father when it came to crafts, via magic. Out of respect for his father’s value of traditional crafts, Leikata branched off to do his own shows and viewings, by joining the scenes of paper theatres and stop-motion. His personal works are niche among the art community, but he’s been getting more attention through collaborations with others.
Notable Thoughts: Leikata’s
“Silver’s the best! He is my first friend in Night Raven College. …Why? Because he was the only student who wasn’t intimidating.”
“Kalim is a surprisingly good person to vent to, if you ever need it. He always knew how to pick me right up, and sometimes he’d even cry with me.”
“Vil is truly the fairest of them all! Well… maybe not when he’s chewing me out for flunking potionology, haha…”
“When Rook is not keeping an eye on Epel, it becomes my job to keep an eye on him. I’ve tried so hard to teach him how to differentiate between the dessert spoons, but he still doesn’t get it…”
“Lilia’s wears a sun-blocking visor when he has P.E.; I wonder if I should get that too.”
Notable Thoughts: Others’
“I thought I had offended Master Leikata when I talked to him the other day, but apparently his eyes are sensitive to sunlight. That makes me wonder how much of his tears are real…” - Cloche
“Leikata brings such life and energy to the Board Game Club, even going so far as to make customized game pieces for us, and animating them in front of our eyes. He’s so creative, turning chips into something so avant-garde. …Surely, they must be worth quite a lot under his name.” - Azul
“I don’t get why Vil wants me to be like Leikata so bad… All that pansy does is cry.” - Epel
“I can’t believe Azul invited Mr. Leikata— THE Leikata who was part of the stop motion for one of the biggest current blockbuster anime OPs of all time, to the BG club—! What was he thinking?!” - Idia
“I wonder how Lei how is doing, after he animated the credits of my last film. I was hoping we could catch up some time, after he moved.” - Neige
Extras/Trivia:
- Light magic user
- Leikata’s hair used to be long and symmetrical, until Rook burned it part of it by accident during a science lab.
- Leikata’s favourite food, stargazy pie, is banned from the Pomefiore dining hall for life.
- Pomefiore is generally very protective and coddling of Leikata. Not necessarily because they’re scared of him getting hurt, but because of the potential danger that is his UM.
- One of Leikata’s past times in Pomefiore is doing puppet shows in the lounge. Students of other dorms drop by sometimes to watch.
- Leikata’s anime/manga/gaming collabs are essentially the TWST equivalent of JJBA x Gucci/Louvre
Full Sprite:
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azoosepted · 6 months
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my thoughts on canto v characters (because i said so)
YEAH, IM FEELING A BIT BORED SO HERE ARE MY THOUGHTS. enjoy my insane ramblings about characters introduced in Canto V (excluding unnamed ones of course. Sorry random club guest, even though your outfit induced neuron activation to my theatre kid brain, you’re not getting on this list.)
!! Spoilers for Canto V of Limbus Company !!
Smee: I’m gonna be real. She’s… okay. I don’t really care much about her though, and Canto V doesn��t really give much information about her for me to care about. Smee just exists to be nearly harpooned by Ishmael.
Pilot: AUUAUAUAUAUAUUAUAGH THE BOYE THE BOYE PILOT IS SUCH A BOYE I LOVE HIM. Honestly so thankful to the LCCB Team Leader for sacrificing their life for Pilot’s. He looks so squeezable. Love him.
Rim: OBJECTHEAD GANG OBJECTHEAD GANG OBJECTHEAD GANG his design goes so goddamn hard. And he’s from the League, which is interesting to me. Most characters from the Sinner’s pasts so far are either affiliated with Team Red (N. Corp) like Gubo, Hermann, Jia Huan, Kromer (to an extent) and Sonya (also to a certain extent) OR they’re affiliated with Team Blue (Demian’s group) like Demian and now Rim. Demian’s little gang is very intriguing to me and I need more of it. Anyways Rim is funky and I like it.
Ricardo: THIS MAN. I JUST. I JUST CANNOT WITH THIS MAN. HIS ENERGY IS JUST FUCKING IMMACULATE. IMAGINE GOING AFTER A COMPANY BECAUSE SOMEONE WHO WORKED THERE STOLE YOUR HAIR SALON COUPONS. The way he was so DRAMATIC about it killed me too. And. And the KITTY STICKERS. OH MY GOD THE KITTY STICKERS. what a guy that Big Brother of the Middle is
The Indigo Elder: grandpa. hes cool. I gotta agree with a friend that the hana association really did him dirty with his title though. You’ve got these epic names like The Black Silence, The Blue Reverberation, The Red Gaze… and then there’s just. Indigo Elder. It’s him, the terrifying Indigo Old Guy. Still the honorary grandpa though.
Starbuck: yeah he exists i guess
Ahab: FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU you are so WELL WRITTEN AND DESPICABLE you fucking . BITCH (also stop making queequeg take hits for you in that one fight you piece of—)
Queequeg: I’m gonna be real. Ishmael should share. gueegdhfjfhjdjdjd butch harpooner lesbian… Queequeg is so cool i love her. The scene where she and Ishmael reunite made me smile uncontrollably. Ishmael is literally about to KILL her until Queequeg takes off the mask and i just. oh my god. i cant describe it i love both ishmael and queequeg so much. I can say with 100% honesty that Queequeg’s death made me sob uncontrollably. I just… god. Love her.
Pip: NOOOOOOO LITTLE SAILOR BOY DONT GO INTO CAPITALISM NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Stubb: lmao who
and that’s pretty much it. thats all the characters i can remember. god i love canto v its my favorite chapter so far. PM, keep up the good work. Keep cooking.
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wonwoonlight · 2 years
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something fluffy / yoon jeonghan
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➝ Reader x Jeonghan (?)
➝ coffee shop!au // slice of life // fluff // nonidol!au // OC has a platonic (?) crush on han but who doesnt
➝ word count: 2.4k
➝ haven cloud masterlist (can be read as standalone)
➝ What’s playing in Haven Cloud
➝ A/N: i have no idea why this is going slower than i expected and i cant help but feel sorry ;-; hopefully i'll be able to finish this before the year ends? or is that too low of a goal anyway i hope you enjoyed this and pls dont forget to drop by and tell me your thoughts <3
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When you had only started working in Haven Cloud, you’re not sure what to make of Jeonghan.
The guy is way too beautiful not to be a celebrity, and when he greeted you with a wink and a playful smile, you didn’t even dare to think he was flirting with you because there’s no way someone like him would have that kind of motives towards old plain you.
Still, it was a little hard figuring out what to make of him, and it’s only after three months that you finally understood that Jeonghan is just naturally friendly towards everyone that he’s sometimes borderline flirty with or without meaning to. One thing for sure though: it’s clear that Jeonghan never has any ill intentions, and contrary to how he looks, Jeonghan is quite easily persuaded if you just whine a little and pull your pitiful face.
In short, Yoon Jeonghan is just a big softie for those around him despite the cool, flirty image he’s holding up as Haven Cloud’s one and only handsome pastry chef. And it’s not helping the, uh, admiration you have for him. It’s a crush at most, one that you used to have towards a senior in high school; that you know wouldn’t grow into anything else and is barely even romantic.
You suppose Jeonghan is much too easy on the eyes, and as much as you have nothing romantic towards him, sometimes you still get flustered when he stares at you a little too long, or when he mindlessly pokes your cheek just to annoy you.
“Say aah,” his airy voice suddenly says, a piece of tiny choux almost forcibly shoved into your lips that you have no choice but follow as he says. “How is it?”
You hum as you appreciate the sudden sweet exploding in your mouth. Jeonghan has been doing this a lot these days, making all of you try his latest creation because he’s been experimenting with new ingredients and new techniques for a future event Chan has briefed you all a few weeks ago.
“Mmm. Definitely not your best work, but it’s better than the last choux you made.” You scrunch your nose and look at Jeonghan apologetically. He puffs air into his cheeks, a little upset but grateful nevertheless for your honesty. “It tastes good. But the dough is a little too heavy for some reason. What fillings do you have so far?”
“Chocolate, vanilla, and chocolate rum.”
“Chocolate rum?” You look at him in betrayal. Vanilla is literally your least favorite flavour out of the three but that’s what he’s been feeding you these whole time? “I want to try chocolate rum!”
Jeonghan looks conflicted for a second, but it’s Seungkwan’s annoying voice that answers you.
“Too bad he’s already perfected the chocolate rum,” he grins, popping a small choux into his mouth.
“You made Seungkwan try the chocolate rum?” You whine, pouting at the older guy like a child as Seungkwan teases you some more before making his way back to the hall.
“To be fair, I’m currently trying out the doughs, not the fillings. I’d be wasting too much ingredients if I made chocolate rum fillings for all of my trials.” He smiles at you sheepishly, though you don’t relent until he promises he’ll make another batch next week.
“Next week? It’s Friday and I’m craving them now because of you.”
Truthfully, Jeonghan can simply ignore you and be done with it. He knows you well enough to know you’re not actually angry at him, that you’re just playing annoying and you definitely don’t mind waiting until next week. But, like you’ve said earlier, Jeonghan is a big softie and sometimes he’s unsure how to say no to everyone in the cafe because the big brother in him strives to both make all of you suffer and cater to all of your needs.
“Actually, I’m going to the cafe tomorrow to make them so you can drop by if you want?”
“We’re off tomorrow, though? Didn’t Chan say he has somewhere to be and decided to just close the cafe for the weekend?”
“Yep. I asked if I could borrow the kitchen for practice and he said okay.” Jeonghan shrugs, then reminds you rush hour is coming in a bit and you should probably leave the kitchen before Chan yells at you again. “So. Come by if you don’t have anything to do? Or you can always eat them on Monday, I suppose.”
You eye the tray of choux next to Jeonghan, and you swear you can taste the chocolate rum in your mouth if you stare at them long enough.
Guess you’re going to the cafe tomorrow.
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“How do you perfect the shape, exactly?” Soonyoung looks at the dough curiously as Jeonghan works on them. 
“I’m just talented that way,” the older guy shrugs with nonchalance, a lazy grin on his face and it blooms into a laugh when you threaten to pour more water into his dough so he couldn’t shape them. “Why are you here again?”
“Didn’t have anything to do and Cherrie said she’s coming to the cafe to be a ‘choux tester’ so I decided I want to become one too.”
You barely listen as the two guys continue to talk, opening the small fridge you guys use to store your food right next to the big fridge for the cafe’s necessity. It’s almost lunch now, and you skipped breakfast because you couldn’t be bothered to make anything, which means you’re hungrier than you usually are at these hours but you’re not hungry enough to eat an actual meal right now.
“Han, can I eat these?” you ask as you show him a slice of crepe cake. “Is this yours?”
“Yeah, sure. I bought it then forgot to eat it.”
He chuckles when you squeal a little and do your usual tiny dance when you get to eat desserts. Most of the time, he’s sure you’re working in Haven Cloud for the discounted dessert and all the dishes he makes you try.
He’s not complaining though, one of the reasons why he became a pastry chef in the first place is because of how happy his sister was when he asked her to taste his first perfect baking and how her eyes twinkled in delight once the spoon went inside her mouth. So to see you, or anyone, really, being delighted over desserts is something that always swells his heart.
“Han, say ‘aah’.” Jeonghan jumps when your face pops right in front of his, a small spoon shoved into his lips. He hums once he tastes the layers of cake, his mind already separating the ingredients within. “Where did you even buy this? It tastes better than the usual crepe cake we buy.”
“My sister’s friend has just opened a new bakery and their signature dish is this cake.” He nods in approval as he swallows. He’s always liked crepe cake, but they’re too much of a bother to make that he never bothers trying. If there’s one pastry he wouldn’t make, it’s this one; they’re too much work and having to put them layer by layer will never end for someone who strives for perfection like Yoon Jeonghan. “It does taste much better than I expected. Give me another bite.”
You snicker before you feed him another then take a bite yourself, and it’s Soonyoung who snickers next, looking at you both with a shake of his head.
“Do you realize you guys act like a married couple sometimes?” He huffs, then walks towards you to also take a bite. He’s oblivious of the flustered look the both of you have, too busy appreciating the taste to notice you’ve gone quiet out of nowhere. “Anyway, should we order lunch?”
Jeonghan snaps out of it first, only a little taken aback because he’s never really had anyone say anything of that kind to him. Despite what he’s heard people say about him, Jeonghan actually has very little experience in romance and is very shy when it comes to it.
“Mmm. I’m kinda craving for some katsu, actually.”
“Ooh, I know a good place!” Soonyoung answers almost immediately, his face lighting up. “But it’s not available for delivery. You guys wanna go there or…?”
“Jeonghan can’t leave his dough, Soon,” you scrunch your nose and take out your phone to open the delivery app. “Let’s eat something else.”
“Or I can go by myself. I don’t mind.” Your best friend shrugs. “It’s not that far from here too and I want them too now that I’ve mentioned it.”
As per usual Kwon Soonyoung style, he’s out of the door before any of you can stop him. But, then again, you know you’d be too hungry later on if you take more time to ponder about what to eat so it might be for the better that he goes to buy food now.
“He didn’t even ask what kind of katsu we want to eat.” Jeonghan chuckles to himself and continues his way with his dough. “By the way. If you open the big fridge, I already have a batch of chocolate rum choux ready.”
You light up at the mention of the sweet treat that Jeonghan actually laughs out loud. “When did you make these?!”
“I’ve been here since seven in the morning,” he grins, and then tells you the current batch he’s working on is the last one for choux because he needs to practice for the other menu. “I think I found out why I kept on messing the dough. The batch this morning is almost perfect, so…”
You pop one of the choux into your mouth, and you frown the same time you squeal about how good it is. “This is perfect! What could you possibly fix for this?”
“You’d know,” he winks and cracks his neck from side to side. “God, my neck is stiff. I’ve been making these for hours.”
“You should rest then.” You look at him in worry, and it’s only then that you realize how he has hot patches on the back of his neck and on his arms. He always gets like this when he wants to perfect a recipe, and while it’s admirable that he’s going to this extent, it always worries you everytime it happens. “You’re about done with the dough, aren’t you? A little more and you can leave it in the oven?”
Jeonghan nods and exhales a deep breath; he really doesn’t want to rest now, but his arms are hurting and he knows it’s going to be a pain in the ass on Monday if he continues working. Thankfully, he finishes in about ten minutes and, after putting them inside the oven, the both of you go out of the kitchen to sit down on one of the sofas in the cafe.
“Christ, my back,” Jeonghan stretches from his seat. “What are you making?”
“Tea. You old man can’t handle too much caffeine, right?” You tease him from behind the counter. “I’ll make you some peppermint tea to help you relax.”
Jeonghan isn’t usually too fond of tea either and you know this, but he agrees that peppermint does make him relax and it’s something he direly needs right now.
You slide into the seat next to him out of habit, because it’s usually you and Jeonghan, Seungkwan and Chan. You share a look with him for a second and laugh at the same time, probably thinking of the same thing at that moment. You’re about to move and sit in front of him when he pulls you down, his head immediately claiming the spot on your shoulder so you’d stay in place.
“You make a good pillow,” he claims, his voice so soft like he’s about to fall asleep any second. As if on cue, he yawns into your shoulder, his fluffy hair tickling your cheek. “How longer do you think it’d take Soonyoung to come back?”
“In about 15 minutes. He texted me just now. You can take a short nap, I’ll wake you up once the food is here?” You offer, unsure if Jeonghan is more sleepy than he is hungry.
“Mmm. 15 minutes is cool,” he moves away from your shoulder and tells you to move to the edge of the sofa. You follow his words without even asking why, and, before you can even ask, he lays down sideways on your lap, facing away from you.
You chuckle at the familiar scene in front of you. These boys can be very soft at times and it’s beyond cute. Chan is the youngest but he’s literally the only one that doesn’t hog you; Seungkwan and Jeonghan would do this from time to time, just latch on to you in any way possible when they’re extremely tired and are in need of physical comfort. (Sometimes they latch on each other too, but they always choose you when you’re around for some reason.)
You let Jeonghan sleep 5 minutes longer before waking him up, the food Soonyoung brought is already set on the table by then. He groans a little when you bounce your legs, then takes three more minutes to actually get back to his senses. He’s just about to take a bite when the familiar ding of the oven rings throughout the kitchen, so, to no one’s surprise, he abandons his food and dashes to get his choux out of the oven.
The smell that fills the room once Jeonghan comes out with a tray of choux is heavenly, and you, too, abandon your food for the sake of tasting the choux first.
“Did you fill this with chocolate rum too?”
“Some of them, yeah, because there was a bit left. But most of them are vanilla.”
You happily take the choux Jeonghan hands you, the pastry still warm that you blow air into it out of reflex. Jeonghan looks at you in expectation, then breaks into a wide grin when your eyes widen the moment you swallow. That’s how he knows his dessert is a big success.
“Han, what the hell!” You hit his shoulder harder than you meant to. “How did you make it so fluffy on the inside but crispy on the outside? This is the fluffiest choux I’ve ever had!” 
“Not the most delicious?” he grins, then takes a bite himself and urges Soonyoung to taste some too.
“Like it’s not obvious.” You roll your eyes, then tell him you’re bringing some home and he has no right to tell you otherwise. “This will be sold out in seconds. Tell you what, maybe we should not serve this. I kinda want them all to myself”
Jeonghan scrunches his nose shyly at the compliment, then tells you to shut up before he picks up his katsu again. Despite knowing he’s good at this, there’s something about getting validations from the people in Haven Cloud that makes him happy; perhaps it’s the fact that he knows for sure these people appreciate him and his works.
And as he watches you and Soonyoung hum happily at the taste of his choux, Jeonghan is once again glad he chooses to become a pastry chef.
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©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.
A/N 2: I might get rid of the taglist because, to be honest, it turns to be quite a lot of work to tag every user one by one due to tumblrs ass system and, if i'm being quite frank, it gets discouraging to tag people and not get feedback from even 10% of them soo, yeah
🏷permanent taglist: @kyeomjjigae @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu @kpopjackie @ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17 @leechanniee @twogyuu @hoe4wonwoo @h3h3tm0n @noraehey @seokshook @rubyhoons @02psh @just-here-to-read-01 @listxn @janandbeyond @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly
🏷haven cloud taglist: @berriesandjunnie @boowanie @honeymoondelicia @joshuahongnumbers @bbymatz @baldi-2 @justasoftstan @lechanters @darl-ings @17kwans @heesunki @13956789 @yoonguurt @yoonzinosworld @alicehatter457 @wonuziex @bibinnieposts @horranghaesakura @oliviaheaven @trumanblackhatesyou @qiuscloud @cherriscoups @sstarryreads @joonsytip @jwwonu @meowtella
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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moment 3 · ͟͟͞͞➳❥ armin arlert x gn!reader
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word count: 0.7k
content: no manga spoilers, fluff (but seems like light angst at the start), modern!au
navigation | event masterlist
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your cold fingers lightly pressed against the warm cup in your hands, and your eyes traveled to the window by your side. with one intake through your nose, you registered the familiar scent of coffee. it calmed your body, yet your mind remained a worrying mess.
today was the day of love; valentine’s day was a day you weren’t too fond of. to love and be loved in public was never your style, considering how hard it was to come by for you.
it was difficult to search for, but you found your feelings lying in the hands of one person. blond and blue-eyed, armin arlert became someone you could trust your life with. it amazed you that despite how long it took you to find someone to love, he was perfect for you.
it was as if all the puzzle pieces had come together when you realized your feelings for the book-loving man. and the bliss the two of you were in when everything was out in the open… oh you loved him so much.
you almost miss him as much as you love him. armin was taking extra classes in college for an extra two years, leaving the two of you with conflicting schedules. it was hard to see him, which pained the both of you.
today, valentine’s day, the two of you were supposed to meet up. you’ve sat long enough at the cafe that you’ve already drank a whole cup of hot coffee and you’re second cup was only slightly warm, not piping hot like it was at first.
doubt ran throughout your mind and you could only express it through your shrunken figure. you thought that maybe armin had forgot, that he got lost in all of his work and it slipped his mind.
you would’ve rather spent the day in your bedroom, alone, than outside near other couples, still alone. you were ready to leave, clad in your coat, when someone sat across from where you were. they slid a small envelope with a heart sticker to you, the handwriting so familiar that you didn’t even have to look up to know who it was
“armin…” you trailed off, looking up at the blond himself.
his cheeks were slightly flushed, from what you guessed to be the cold. he was dressed in a dark blue turtleneck, and on his wrist was the watch he always wore— the watch you gave him on his birthday.
“i’m so sorry,” he apologized, finding himself slowly able to look you straight in the eye. “i’ve gotten so busy with school, so we’ve barely talked, let alone seen each other. and i know we made plans for today, b-but i got scared… i know you’ll tell me i shouldn’t have been, but i was scared that maybe things would be a bit awkward considering how long it’s been. i don’t know what’s gotten into me…”
armin held his drink, tracing the rim of the cup as if it would calm his nerves. he really was scared, in all honesty. drowning in his schoolwork, which was more than you thought it’d be, tried him out. without having the time to talk to you much, armin feared that things would be rocky.
“it’s okay to feel that way, you know. that’s why you can come to me whenever, armin. you know i’ll always be having your back, right?” you reached your hand across the table to grab his. you rubbed your thumb against his as you asked, “however, i definitely want to have a talk with whoever is making you do this much schoolwork. i’ve missed you so much…”
“then talk with me,” armin spoke. “i managed to have my classes crammed into this year only. so next school year… i’m free. i’ll be free with you.”
you looked at him with wide eyes, “huh!? you did that?”
“i did, yeah. i wanted to surprise you when i graduated, but here we are. it didn’t work out, huh?” he nervously scratched his cheek.
with a light-hearted sigh, you began to rest your chin on your hand, “you really had me worried for a sec, you know?”
“sorry, again. i love you, (y/n),” he smiled.
you smiled back, “and i love you, armin.”
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note: tumblr has become the perfect place to write out things that have been troubling me. who would’ve known…
please reblog for more!
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galesdekariios · 4 months
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Communication (Gale x Wynmoira)
Hello beautiful people! I've finally continued on with my Gale and Wyn drabbles. I will definitely be posting more, especially for this month there's a small writing challenge to write daily happening so be on the lookout for more works with various tavs of mine! :)
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Part [1]. Part [2] (you are here).
can find it on my ao3 here
It had been days since Gale’s big revelation. Wynmoira kept her distance from him, not having the courage to face him. She’d make excuses for why she didn’t need him tagging along on their adventures, assuring that she and Shadowheart could handle it, that a third magic user was unnecessary. When she was back at camp, she’d use any excuse to go for a supply run, typically alone or taking Karlach with her in case anyone took issue.
But no matter how hard she tried to avoid him, he always found a way, an excuse, to try to talk to her. He’d try to talk about a book he was reading, and typically, Wynmoira loved to hear about it, but she’d now say she was busy or too tired. He’d try to talk to her at dinner, asking about her day, yet she gave one-word answers or excused herself. She couldn’t let go of her petty jealousy and insecurities, and it was beginning to take a toll on her.
“Need help there?” Gale called out behind Wynmoira. He watched the woman struggle to juggle the newly cut wood in a wheelbarrow. The camp was running low on wood, and it was her turn to cut a few logs. Typically, she didn’t struggle this badly, but she got caught up in the moment during her hacking.
“I’m fine,” she said harshly. She placed another piece of wood on top of the stack. It fell, and like a domino effect, others followed shortly after. Gale watched as the mess unfolded and let out a small huff before reaching for the fallen wood.
“I don’t believe that’s true,” he challenged. His voice was soft yet assertive. They locked eyes for a moment, the silence growing between them. Wynmoira wanted to tell him to go away, yet some part of her wanted him to stay. She missed him, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She missed their time together, and avoiding him made her feel hollow like she was missing something.
“Fine, you can help,” she caved. She reached for a few logs on the ground before placing them into a stack in his arms. Gale let out a small grunt as he tried to adjust to the added weight before chuckling, proud of himself as he steadied the weight. Wynmoira grabbed the wheelbarrow and began pulling it, Gale joining her side as they headed towards camp.
“We haven’t seen much of each other these days,” Gale pointed out, his eyes wandering to Wynmoira. Her eyes remained straight ahead, not drifting for a moment. “I miss our little talks.” His voice was softer, with a hint of pain in his words. Wynmoira’s face faltered for a moment, recognizing the shift in his tone. But just as quickly as it changed, she returned to her stone-cold gaze.
“We’re talking now, aren’t we?” She quipped.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” Wynmoira finally broke her gaze ahead, looking over at the wizard. His brows furrowed, his lips curled downwards slightly. “Ever since the ordeal with the hag, you’ve been…different.”
She wanted to challenge him, tell him he was wrong. That she was the same woman she’d always been. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She knew he was right. Things were different between them. She never really prepared herself for this type of conversation. In all honesty, she hoped to avoid it entirely.
“I just needed to adjust my priorities.” She paused, turning away from him. She couldn’t face him and have this conversation, not now. “We need to get these tadpoles out of our heads before it’s too late.” She continued pulling the wheelbarrow, leaving Gale behind. He followed shortly after her, and the two remained silent until they made it to camp. Karlach approached the two, welcoming them back.
“Hi there, soldier!” Karlach had a large smile on her face. She was comfortable, wearing her camp clothing. There were no real plans for today other than resupplying and resting. Her eyes drifted to Gale, who was following behind, noticing the small frown on his face. “What did you do, Wyn?” Wynmoira’s eyes widened slightly, and her brows furrowed in confusion.
“Lovely how you immediately assume it was my fault,” she protested. Karlach looked at her, raising a brow. She didn’t have to say anything before Wynmoira caved, nodding her head. “He tried talking, and I don’t want to talk.” She settled the wheelbarrow on the ground and began pulling some logs out, placing a few by the nearby campfire pit. Once enough was placed, she made her way over to a larger stack of wood, refilling the pit. Gale joined her side momentarily, adding his collection to the pile before leaving her. As he walked away, she couldn’t help but look after him. His head and shoulders fell slightly as he sulked back to his tent.
He remained in his tent for the rest of the day, never coming out once. The sun had set, and the others were gathered around the campfire. Wynmoira sat beside Shadowheart, listening to Wyll tell everyone another one of his stories about his journeys. Shadowheart seemed in tune with his words, but Wynmoira was in her own little world. Her eyes would drift towards Gale’s tent in the distance, waiting for him to join the others. He didn’t even leave to get dinner once it was ready.
“You can always go in,” Shadowheart nudged Wynmoira’s shoulder. Wynmoira snapped out of it, giving a small smile to Shadowheart before shaking her head.
“I’m the last person he’d want to see,” she said. She used her fork to nudge the small bits of potato on her plate. She ate only a portion of her food; not really hungry tonight. Shadowheart stood up, walking away from her companion before returning with a full plate of food and handing it to Wynmoira.
“Give it to him. Don’t need two of you moping about,” she teased. Wynmoira took a moment before standing and taking the plate of food. She went to Gale’s tent, stopping just a few steps outside. Everyone’s voices from the campfire were like soft background noise, and she was in utter silence, waiting outside Gale’s tent. She felt a small lump form in the back of her throat, afraid to call out to him.
“I know you’re out there,” he called out. She mentally cursed herself before entering the tent, a sheepish smile on her lips. Gale was sitting on a small chair, a book in hand. His eyes were glued to the page despite her entrance.
“You didn’t get dinner. Don’t need you starving to death.” She tried to joke, wanting to lighten the mood. Gale took a small breath, his eyes leaving the book to meet hers. “Here,” she held out his plate. He stared at the plate momentarily before finally caving and grabbing it from her hands. Wynmoira sat beside him, keeping her plate on her lap. Her hands fiddled with the plate, needing to find something to distract her from her anxious feelings.
“You…us…things are complicated because of Mystra, aren’t they?” He finally asked. Wynmoira went tense, her hands coming to a halt on the plate. Her eyes drifted to him, and he was already looking at her with his soft brown eyes. She couldn’t find the words to say how she felt, so she nodded her head.
There was no denying that something was forming between the two, since their night practicing with the weave. Images that played through her mind about him, intimate images, were exposed, as were similar images of her in his mind. For a moment, Wynmoira thought something great could come from it. But after learning about Mystra, things became complicated. Her insecurities got the best of her, and she tried to separate herself from him. Hoping that her feelings could disappear. Things would hurt a lot less. But nothing is that easy.
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Wynmoira finally said. She chewed at the inside of her cheek, feeling herself become uneasy as she continued to speak. “Your past is your past, I can’t hold it against you. We’ve all got skeletons in our closets.” She knew herself she had her own secrets, secrets she wasn’t ready to tell. It wasn’t fair for her to hold his against him so harshly.
“I appreciate that, but no,” he said. He placed the plate on the table beside him, turning his body to give her his full attention. “No doubt my past has caused a ripple in our…relationship. Frankly, I didn’t know how to tell you about it. I think a part of me was ashamed, really.”
His words pained her to hear. Gale didn’t seem like the type to have shame. The way he was always so confident in himself, she admired it greatly. But to see him like this, talking about his shame, reminded her that he wasn’t the perfect man she envisioned. He was flawed, just like her. He was human.
“I’m sorry,” Wynmoira said softly. She placed her plate on the table and took Gale’s hand in hers. A small smile grew on her lips as she gave him a gentle squeeze. “You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. I just got so…insecure.” Gale placed his hand on top of hers, giving her a gentle squeeze this time. A small smile formed on his lips as the two held a soft gaze with one another.
“All is forgiven,” he assured her. She missed this. She missed him, his touch, his embrace. She felt safe with him, something she didn’t feel with anyone else. He always found ways to put her at ease, even when he wasn’t trying. “But I do require one thing from you.”
“And what is that?”
“Don’t shut me out,” he asked softly. “If something troubles you, tell me. Let me share your pain. Let me take on your burden. I can handle it.”
His words warmed her heart. No one had ever done that for her. Or at least she couldn’t remember someone doing such a thing. He cared deeply for her, and she felt stupid for letting her insecurities tell her otherwise.
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trickstarbrave · 11 months
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more voryn reincarnation au stuff....
gonna be honest this was supposed to just be weird cult talks but it quickly went down the route of talking about corprus and then.... yeah. uh.
no actual SA happens but if that particularly triggers you very easily id like to give a heads up. bits and pieces of dagoth ur are still kicking it seems. but nothing goes too far.
Voryn adjusted better than he had expected. 
In all honesty he expected his paranoia to be a lot stronger. He was with the hortator, after all. The mer said to be his enemy, who the matron of the cult told him terrifying stories of. Yet, the longer he found himself in Nerevar’s presence, the harder he found it to be scared of him. 
Nerevar was kind. Gentle. Patient. Caring. Perhaps Voryn was a fool and was simply playing right into his hands, but he found it hard to doubt him when all of his actions were in line with his words. Meanwhile the cult gave him kind words and praise only to turn around and offer him pain. 
He was lying in bed reading one of the many books Nerevar brought him when the other mer walked in with a tray of food. 
“Nerevar, you don’t need to bring it every time.” Voryn chuckled softly, moving to stand up. He was sometimes a bit unsteady on his feet still, but he was getting stronger through recovery. 
“Mm, you’re right.” Nerevar laughed in return. “I just like having an excuse to come see you.” 
“You shouldn’t neglect your duties, Nerevar.” Nerevar held out the chair for him and when Voryn sat down pushed it in for him as well. 
“I’m not, honest.” Nerevar’s eyes were shining as always, a look gleaming in them Voryn couldn’t put into words, but it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. “In fact I still think I’m working far too much, even in my breaks to come see you.” 
Voryn didn’t like that either though. He’d been trying to ignore it, but it wasn’t a mystery when his room was so close to the hortator’s that Nerevar was often up late looking over a variety of things at his desk into the early hours of the morning. 
“Don’t work too hard, Nerevar.” Voryn’s brow creased in worry just thinking about it, but afraid of overstepping his boundaries. In all honesty every night he heard the hortator was once again at his desk, he wanted to go into Nerevar’s room and scold him, but then quickly talked himself out of it. He was a guest here in the temple, brought in by Nerevar himself. The last thing he wanted to do was upset his benefactor. Yet he still had to actively fight his instinct to do so. 
“I’m not. Don’t worry about it, alright?” Nerevar reassured him. “In the meantime…” Nerevar took the lid off the tray he brought in. “The healers approved you eating more tough foods. They said some meat would do you good.” Nerevar looked happy as could be saying that. “Pretty soon I’ll be allowed to bring you all kinds of food for you to try and see what you like.” 
Voryn looked at the meat, confused. 
“... Why is it brown?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 
“Hm?” Nerevar asked, looking at the meat and then back at Voryn. “Have you never had guar before? It’s like most other meat… Or were you raised without any meat?” 
Voryn shook his head. “No, I’ve had meat before, including guar.” He poked it with his fork, seeing it didn’t bleed red either. “It’s just… All of the meat I had was tough and red. Except for scrib, of course.” 
Nerevar’s eyebrows furrowed. 
“Red and tough…?” 
“Well, not always tough. Sometimes it was rather soft, but always messy and not very… Pleasant to eat.” 
“Voryn,” Nerevar’s voice was stern, a heavy look of concern on his face. “Were they feeding you raw meat?” 
“Why would it be cooked?” Voryn looked confused by that, only horrifying Nerevar more. 
“Voryn that’s--” Nerevar seemed at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing helplessly. “That’s not healthy! You could have gotten seriously sick from eating that!” He grit his teeth, clearly trying to keep his anger in so as to not scare Voryn, but strangely Voryn wasn’t scared by Nerevar’s anger, just confused as to why he was that upset. “That must have been disgusting to eat--what in oblivion could their rationale have been?” 
“They said Dagoth Ur was closer in kin to the ash vampires so--” 
“The ash vampires didn’t drink blood!” Nerevar insisted. “That was just a name the ordinators gave them when fighting them. House Dagoth never supported vampirism.” 
“They also said I should adjust to the taste of flesh as…” Voryn looked a bit nauseous at this part, his appetite quickly vanishing. “... They said when I mantled Dagoth Ur I was to eat corprus flesh--”
“No,” Nerevar looked equally nauseous. “Dear gods, that’s revolting…” He covered his mouth and closed his eyes. “I see they really are remnants of the Sixth House Cult… I thought I got rid of all of them ages ago…” 
“Was that common?” Voryn looked disgruntled. 
“They had corprus infected meat all over their strongholds and bases.” Nerevar still couldn’t open his eyes. “The smell was revolting, not even mentioning the taste--” 
“You ate it?!” Even Voryn found the idea revolting after looking at the lumbering beasts. 
“I didn’t have a choice.” Nerevar glared back. “I was held down by cultists as they shoved it down my throat.” Voryn looked even more mortified.
“Why--”
“To infect me with corprus.” Nerevar answered quickly, trying to avoid thinking about the encounter. 
“... You had corprus?” Voryn asked cautiously. 
At his question, Nerevar sighed.
“I still have it, Voryn.” He looked away. “There is no cure for it, only ways to stop the worst side effects. It stopped spreading after Dagoth Ur was defeated, but it never goes away.” 
“... I can remove it.” Voryn answered, his voice soft. Nerevar looked at him with uncertainty in his eyes. “Really, I-I can. I’ve done it before.” Voryn began to explain. “There was… When I was a teenager there was a corprus zombie that begged me for death. Begged me to let them stop dreaming so I… Removed it.” He could still remember vividly how painful the lashes were afterwards. It was his first time being beaten so severely, and he’d never forget it. “I was whipped for it severely, given that those infected with corprus are rare now after the eruption...” 
“You can just… Remove it?” 
“Yes.” Voryn replied. “The other infected would listen to my call, acting as though I was Dagoth Ur. I-I never learned how to spread the disease, nor did I ever want to, but I can retract it.” Voryn touched Nerevar’s arm hesitantly, and when Nerevar didn’t pull away, Voryn let it rest there comfortably, his thumb stroking the bracer he wore. “Would you like for me to try and remove it for you as well?” 
Nerevar thought the question over, his fingers drumming on the table in contemplation. 
“... Alright.” He answered. “Only if it doesn’t cause you any harm to you, then you can certainly try.” 
“Here,” Voryn reached his hand out, touching Nerevar’s breastplate. “It would be easier without this on. I need to be as close to your heart as possible.” Without hesitation Nerevar began unstrapping the armor, removing it to set it carefully on the floor. It was at that moment Voryn realized the extent of how much Nerevar trusted him--he was the incarnation of Dagoth Ur, about to try and use the corprus disease he was still infected with, and he still willingly took off his armor and left himself vulnerable. 
He pushed his hand forward to the blue robes Nerevar wore, right over his breast bone. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt the steady heartbeat under his palm. Another breath, as he continued focusing, waiting to find that supernatural pull. Then, just as he felt it, like a stray thread in a tapestry waiting to be pulled, a loud voice entered his mind.
“He’s mine.” The voice boomed. Ice ran through his veins as instead power sparked at his fingertips and Nerevar made a sharp sound of pain. He went to pull away his hand, frightened by what he felt, only for Nerevar to grab his wrist. 
“Nerevar--” He began, about to apologize for whatever that was, only to see something equally frightening when he turned back to the hortator. 
Nerevar’s expression was blank, unlike the pain Voryn expected to find based on the cry of pain he gave just a moment prior. And his eyes were not the stunning sky blue he was used to.
They were blood red, staring up at him. 
“Nere--” His questioning was cut off as Nerevar tugged him forward, grip like steel on his wrist as his other hand grabbed Voryn by the back of his head, dragging him down into a searing kiss. 
It was rough, more teeth than lips. Completely unlike most of the kisses he had in his dreams with Nerevar. There was something primal in it, a hunger that nearly terrified him, as the voice continued in Voryn’s mind. 
“My Moon-and-Star,” The voice continued, as Nerevar dove his tongue past Voryn’s surprised lips, his eyes still open and staring back at Voryn’s, an unnatural red glow in them. “Ready to be taken by me.” Voryn began sweating as he tried to pull away, but Nerevar’s grip was tight, impossible to move with his strength, to the point it actually hurt to struggle. “In my flesh, and of my flesh.” The voice then laughed as Nerevar strained to press himself even closer to Voryn, his red eyes fluttering shut as though on command. 
“Take him.” The voice urged Voryn. “Take him, show him pleasure only we can give him.” Voryn struggled harder as he felt Nerevar’s hips press against his own, Nerevar now sitting in his lap. “He’s willing and waiting for us, begging for us. So take him. Give him what he needs.”
Voryn roughly pushed Nerevar back, but with the tight grip on Voryn the two were sent tumbling on the floor, Nerevar’s head knocking against the tile. He broke the kiss with a groan, his grip growing slack enough for Voryn to pull himself away and scramble off the hortator. When Nerevar blinked, his eyes were blue again, as he sat up shaking his head. 
When he looked back, Voryn was sitting terrified on the floor, covering his mouth and trembling. What just happened seemed to sink in for the hortator as well, as his face went pale. 
“Voryn I am so sorry--” He moved over to help him up, only to stop, afraid of touching the other in case it upset him. “I-I don’t know what that was--” 
Voryn believed him. He knew that wasn’t Nerevar’s doing. It wasn’t what Nerevar wanted. He knew that wasn’t the way Nerevar kissed him, even at his most desperate. 
“I’m sorry…” Voryn whispered out, unable to meet Nerevar’s eyes, covering his mouth slightly. There were bruises on it from Nerevar’s teeth, an ache reminding him what transpired. 
“It’s not your fault.” Nerevar tried to reassure him. “It’s--”
“Dagoth Ur was doing it.” Voryn answered. “He… He was commanding you, through me. It is my fault--” 
“It’s not your fault, you had no idea that would happen.” Nerevar took his hand tightly. “Come here, you shouldn’t be sitting on the ground while you’re recovering…” Nerevar scooped him up with ease, carrying him back to his bed. 
“Rest here. You can eat when you feel comfortable.” With that, Nerevar turned sharply on his heel to the door. 
“W-wait--” Voryn called out, “Nerevar--!” 
But the hortator was already out the door, shutting it behind him and running through the hall, far from him.
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teamplasmaofficial · 7 months
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[@cryogenic-achromatic]
Pelipper Mail: It's another handwritten note, in the same doctor handwriting as the previous. It reads:
"I am another Colress, but I don't have a Pokeblr account. I didn't intend for my previous package to come off as a bribe. Rather, I'm quite curious, and simply wanted an excuse to ask."
"If you're comfortable with it, could you tell us about your immediate family?"
It's signed off with a crude drawing of a Magnemite.
Of course, if you wish to know, I have nothing to hide. I haven’t spoken of my family in many years, forgive me, I may have forgotten some details.
My siblings and I were raised almost exclusively by our mother, as Father spent most of his time abroad for work. He worked for the International Police, so we were never sure where he headed to, or how long he’d be gone. I have very few memories of my father.
My elder brother, Favian, was an incredibly intelligent man. I studied alongside him in Kalos, and all throughout our childhood I remember him excelling in everything he attempted. I still hold a great deal of respect for him. Unfortunately, he was attacked and killed by a violent Pokémon when he was 28 years old. Such a bright young man, gone much too soon…
As for my sister, Cordelia, I was never as close to her as I was Favian, despite us being twins. I suppose society has progressed since my youth, but young men and young women were raised very differently, which could have contributed to the lack of connection I had with my twin sister. She was never very intelligent, although she attracted the most of Mother’s attention of my siblings. I wouldn’t say I hated her, it was moreso a childish jealousy, as I’m sure all siblings have felt at one time. After Mother died, I never attempted to continue meeting with her, and she evidently felt the same.
Of course, this all was quite a while ago. Although, never for a second do I doubt my memory. I hope this satisfies you. In all honesty, I enjoyed having the opportunity to remember my childhood.
OOC:
ooh!! ooh!!! i’m gonna dump some headcanons i have that there is no way in hell ghetsis would ever admit like. publicly.
These all apply to my interpretation of ghetsis, and in case you didn’t notice, i have done a lot of research into possible social triggers which can cause APD (antisocial personality disorder), and yeah that’s where some of this stuff stemmed from. So don’t think i’m trying to sympathise with him by giving him an edgy backstory or anything. I just think it’s fun to take a character and flesh them out as if they were like a real person.
First of all, he didn’t forget to mention his mother. He just would rather die than think about her long enough to write a paragraph on her. She wasn’t neglectful per-se, but HEAVILY favoured Cordelia to the point that ghetsis felt quite unloved during his childhood. He hated his mother since he always worked hard and excelled in school to try and impress her, but his achievements were overshadowed by Cordelia’s like. existence.
He doesn’t remember shit about his father since he was so absent, which yeah lead to him viewing Favian as a kind of father figure.
AND ABOUT FAVIAN. The incident >:). For background, I recon Ghetsis was always a piece of shit toward his pokémon. His first pokémon was a Deino he hatched himself, and he took out his anger on it a lot. Overworking and abusing it. Deino is an uncommon pokémon, so even after he hatched it his mother didn’t really care, and my guy was PISSED.
Anyways, after he returned from Kalos, his Deino still hadn’t evolved and it was really annoying him. Favian offered to help train it, and here’s where it gets juicy. After a month of intense training with seemingly no progress, ghetsis got MAD. He was so pissed at everything, but Favian was all “hey man how about we battle to see how far Deino has come :)” so yeah. they did that.
Surprisingly, Ghetsis and Dieno won the battle. But Deino was so worked up, so sore and so angry, it attacked Favian, and ignored Ghetsis when he instructed it to stop. He tried to save his brother by attempting to pull the pokémon off of him, and that’s when he lost his eye and sustained the injury to his face. Long story short, Favian was dead long before anyone could calm Deino.
After that, Ghetsis was so very disowned. The only time he saw his family was at his Mother’s funeral, he never attended his Father’s. Everyone, including himself, blamed him for Favian’s death, and for some reason, he didn’t surrender the Deino which killed his brother. After the initial shock left, he recognised the power the pokémon held with its anger, and was determined to harness it. So yeah, it eventually became his Hydreigon.
He loved his brother a lot, and still lives with the guilt. Not only because it was his pokémon who killed him, but also because he wasn’t strong enough to literally wrestle Deino away. Which is dumb there are very very few people who could do that but we all know how much this guy loves to think he’s so strong and perfect.
I don’t blame the Deino for its actions really. It acted kind of the same way those captive orcas who killed their trainers did.
I do have more stuff about his family and general life leading up to BW, so idk if you’re interested send me an anon or something and I can try to get it out of my head and down on ‘paper’. Also I haven’t proof read this Injust typed it all out real fast so sorry about that.
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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