#although I DO admit that I think I did great on em | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strangersmunsons · 2 months

Text

read 'em and weep #4

you hear some rumors about Eddie.

Chapter 4 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 3 -> Here!

Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, mix of fluff and angst, lots of kisses, reader realizes she may not know as much about Eddie as she thinks she does (but don't worry, they're gonna be fine). Warnings: some nasty remarks are made about Eddie’s reputation. Word Count: ~4.6k I feel bad that all this wait has led to an angstier chapter, but I'm hoping the next part will be written sooner than this one was!

“I disagree.”

“Look, The Shining is really good, I like it! I just don’t think it’s his best book.”

“I’d take more stock in your opinion if you weren’t putting It at the top of your list. Great book, but such a terrible ending.”

Eddie holds a hand up like he’s swearing an oath. “I’ll admit that it isn’t a perfect book, but it’s still some of the best writing Stephen King’s ever done.” Then he grimaces. “The notable exception being that…one scene in the sewer, um…I don’t really think it needed to be in there.”

Your nose wrinkles in distaste, knowing exactly which scene he’s referring to. “I read that ABC is making a TV show out of it — I’m sure they’ll cut that part out.”

He laughs. “I think he was doing a lot of coke back then.”

Eddie is playing for you chauffeur today. Once again, after a late night he coaxed you into staying over at his place — but instead of just dropping you at home the next morning and then leaving, he waited patiently for you in your living room while you got cleaned up and changed, before driving you to work.

“Although, now that I’m thinking about it,” he muses, “maybe The Stand is number one for me.”

You concur. “Oooh, good one!”

“Did you know,” he exclaims, suddenly excited, dark eyes shining, “that Ride the Lightning by Metallica is a reference to a line from The Stand?”

You search for familiarity in the phrase, and don’t find it. “It is?”

“Yeah, there’s a guy on death row who says it when he’s talking about the electric chair. That's why there's a picture of one on the album."

“Huh. Cool.”

Eddie snubs his cigarette out against the library’s exterior brick wall as you fumble with the keys. When the big double-doors are both unlocked, he pulls one open for you, and you kiss him on the cheek as you breeze past. “Thanks. I’ll see you later, okay?” You pause, and reach back to give his hand a final squeeze. “Have a good day!”

Inside, you make it about halfway to the front desk before you realize that the unmistakable sound of Reeboks squeaking against the floor is following you.

You turn around, bewildered and amused. “Can I help you?”

Eddie just shrugs. “This is a public institution. I’m allowed in.”

“I didn’t realize ‘let me drop you off’ meant ‘let me come to work with you.’ Gosh, aren’t you tired of me yet?”

His reply is immediate. “No.”

The incredible thing is, you actually believe him.

You shake your head in awe. “Eddie Munson, you’re really somethin’, you know that?”

He leans in to kiss you one more time, soft and sweet, but you pull away before it can get too heated, keenly aware of the fact that you’re at your place of work, and that making out in full view of the entire — albeit currently empty — library? Probably a bad look.

Just in time, too, as Marissa was apparently not far behind you. You see the doors open again from over Eddie’s shoulder and the older librarian hurries into the building, low heels clacking noisily against the tile. Her face, which is seemingly-always pinched in annoyance, scrunches even further beneath her dark bangs when she realizes you’re not alone.

“Good morning, Marissa,” you greet her politely.

“We’re technically not open yet,” she spits back, staring pointedly at Eddie. “He can’t be in here.”

You open your mouth to reply, but Eddie beats you to it. “My apologies, ma’am. I was just heading back out.” It’s a remarkably respectful response for Eddie, who you’ve learned has a general distaste for authority, and you know that it’s for your sake.

He gives you the tiniest wave as he walks away, and you return it with a smile, though your heart pangs with each step that takes him further away from you.

After clocking in you make your escape to the children’s area. It’s practically its own library, in a way — it takes up the whole back corner of the building and then some. Hundreds of thin, colorful books are jam-packed onto the shelves, which are built at an intentionally low height. The floor is covered in deep green carpeting, in contrast to the elegant, black-and-white tile that lies in the main library; all the flat surfaces are topped with stuffed animals and puppets and other baubles for the kids to admire and play with.

In the center of it all, there’s a wide space that’s been cleared out for Story Times and various other programs, which is headed by the overstuffed armchair that you like to read from. A number of miniature tables and stools line the side of the area, which are dotted with neatly-placed baskets of craft supplies.

You’re pleased with the theme for the day: amongst the books you’ve chosen there are copies of A Bear Called Paddington and Corduroy ready to go. Markers, buttons, googly eyes, and glue have been set out on the tables, so they can make their own little bears for the craft activity. You’ve taken the initiative of cutting out the teddy shapes from heavy cardstock for them already — one less accident with scissors you need to worry about.

You’re nearly finished setting up when someone clears their throat behind you. Startled, you whirl around to see Marissa again.

“Hello,” you greet her in surprise. She usually lets you do your thing on Saturdays without much interruption. Your take in her expression, a little puzzled; the look on her face suddenly makes you feel like you’re in trouble.

She gives you a tight smile, although it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hello, dear. Everything going okay?”

“Ye-es…” Your answer drags out uncertainly. “Almost ready here.” You gesture unnecessarily around the room, unsure of what she’s getting at.

“Good, good,” she nods distractedly, not bothering to look and verify that you’re actually doing your job. “Listen, when you finish up this morning, come and find me. I want to have a little chat with you, alright?” Seeing the panic split across your face, she quickly adds, “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. It’s not work-related.”

Your head cocks to the side curiously, but she spins on her heel and leaves before you can ask her to elaborate.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur, Marissa’s request lurking in the back of your mind all the while, though you try to focus on your reading. She’s not really the warm and fuzzy type — somehow you doubt she’s interested in having a little girl-chat.

Some odd-two hours later, when the last of the kids have scampered away, you head cautiously back to the front desk where Marissa and another young clerk are speaking to one another in low voices.

Your coworker sees you approaching from over Marissa’s shoulder, and gives her a subtle nod, warning the older woman of your presence. A hush falls over their conversation, and you feel a stab of annoyance, knowing intuitively that whatever they were talking about, it certainly had something to do with you.

She’s already blabbing to your coworkers about whatever this is? Gross.

Marissa turns to face you, pretending to look surprised at your approach.

“You wanted to see me?” you ask her pleasantly.

Another one of those tight-lipped smiles. “Yes, why don’t you come back here with me.” She moves towards her office, waving for you to follow along. “A little more private in here,” she stage-whispers.

When you’re alone in the tiny room, she shuts the door behind you, and takes a seat at her desk. You perch awkwardly on one of the folding chairs opposite her, clasping your hands on your lap — you feel a little bit like a wayward student in the principal’s office.

“Is…everything okay?” She said it wasn’t work-related, so you don’t have a clue what’s up. Surely if it was about Eddie being in the building before open, she would have reprimanded you earlier, when you were the only two people there. And that would be considered work-related anyway, wouldn’t it?

Marissa doesn’t answer immediately, so you try to be proactive. “If this is about my friend being here this morning, I’m so sorry about that. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Not…exactly.” She purses her lips, not giving anything away.

You blink, and try again. “Um, if this is about the oobleck thing again, I promise I was able to get it off the ceiling. You can check, it’s all clean.”

She almost cracks, a rare flash of amusement in her eyes, though it’s snuffed out quickly.

“It’s not that, either. I want to ask you about how things are going, just in general? I know you’re still pretty new to town. Have you been settling in okay these past few months?”

You think of the warm welcome you received from nearly everyone you’ve met. “Yeah, everything’s great. Everyone’s been really nice.”

She nods slowly, and when she speaks again, her tone is off — you can clock the feigned nonchalance right away. “I’ve noticed Eddie Munson has been here quite often this summer.”

You take this as confirmation of what you had already suspected — that Eddie’s frequenting of the library has more to do with you than anything else, and your lips can’t help but turn up into a fond smile.

“He likes to read,” you offer simply.

She’s more direct this time, eyes locking onto yours from behind her thick lenses. “He spends a lot of time talking to you while he’s here.”

Nervous heat starts to creep up your neck and into your cheeks. Is that what this is about? Has the quality of your work declined since Eddie started visiting you here?

You’ve worried about this before. When your friendship began and he started coming in pretty regularly, you made a point that if Eddie was to be there, the distractions had to be kept to a minimum. He was very understanding about it. And in his defense, he did mostly keep out of your way — he sat and read, and chatted with you when you weren’t busy, or if you happened to be hidden away amongst the shelves working, out of Marissa’s sight. He even helped you clean up the mess left behind by your Storytime kids. But you suppose he had been a presence nonetheless.

Waiting for the hammer to fall, you bow your head. Your job is very important to you — as much as you like Eddie, you don’t want to jeopardize your position or your standing with your boss by having her think you’re boy-crazy. Guiltily, your mind scrambles to find the words for an apology, some promise to do better in the future.

But Marissa doesn’t even go there. And what she says instead startles you right out of your self-deprecating spiral.

“Do you know about Eddie Munson?”

Your head pops back up in surprise, and you stare at her blankly, confused. “Know…what about him?”

“Listen, you’re a nice girl,” she simpers. “You’re a stellar employee — I wouldn’t want anyone else leading Family and Youth Services here. I think you have a lot of potential, and I don’t want you to squander it by getting involved with the wrong sort of people.”

Offense rises in your throat like bile. “Excuse me?”

She holds her hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to look out for your best interests, dear,” she insists. “The Munsons have a reputation in this town — that young man especially —”

“Marissa,” your tone is sharp; she’s treading into dangerous territory.

“He’s a criminal,” she warns. “Jim Hopper is far too soft on him. If he actually got in trouble for every law he broke, he’d be sitting in a jail cell right now.”

You gape at her. “What has he done?” you demand.

Marissa sighs, and takes her glasses off, setting them aside while she massages the bridge of her nose tiredly. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this” — you note that she doesn’t really sound sorry at all — “but he is a drug dealer, and a Satanist, amongst other things. He sells dope to kids and he all but started a cult when he was in high school. The oldest senior in Indiana, by the way,” she adds derisively.

You’re speechless.

She pushes on. “His father was a deadbeat, and in all the time that Eddie Munson has been living in Hawkins, all he’s done is prove that the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, fuming. Her audacity is too appalling for you to have any real reaction to the accusations; and regardless of whether or not those rumors are true, this certainly doesn’t feel like an appropriate way for you to find out about them.

You take a deep breath, and choose your words carefully. “Respectfully, who I choose to associate with outside of work is no one’s business but my own. If you feel like my relationship with him is infringing upon my performance here, then by all means, tell me where I’m lacking, and I’ll improve. But please do not sit here and try to convince me to shun my friend because —” you falter, trying to keep your anger in check, “because of your personal feelings towards him.”

Because you’re a Grade-A bitch who listens to small town gossip.

Marissa settles back in her seat, face impassive. She purses her lips. “Alright. I see your point. But don’t be upset, dear, I’m really only trying to help you.”

“I appreciate your concern,” you lie through gritted teeth.

“But before you make your mind up about him too quickly,” she adds, examining her fingernails casually, “ask him about Chrissy Cunningham.” Her eyes dart slyly up to yours, searching for any hint of recognition at the name.

There isn’t any — you’ve never heard of this person — but there’s an odd swooping sensation in your stomach at the mention of Eddie possibly being involved with another girl. It makes you feel sort of…ill.

But you won’t let your face betray your surprise. You keep your expression neutral, composed. You manage a final nod at Marissa, and rise to leave. She doesn’t say anything to stop you, so you take that as your cue to exit the office, your mind swirling with unanswered questions.

Across town, at the Munson trailer, a Dungeons and Dragons session is set to begin any minute. Dustin Henderson has arrived early with snacks, and is making himself all too comfortable on the squashy sofa.

Hellfire Club had still gone on strong three years after Eddie’s miraculous, long-awaited graduation, due to the combined efforts of the small group of freshmen he recruited in his last year. And it will continue to do so even now that they’re gone, thanks to one Erica Sinclair, who is rumored to be the most brutal Dungeons and Dragons player in the entire Midwest…after Eddie, of course.

Despite the fact that he remained in Hawkins, and that Dustin often begged him to join them, Eddie had respectfully bowed out of any and all Hellfire-related activities after graduating, in an effort to display a modicum of maturity. He didn’t want to be that guy hanging around his old high school because he didn’t have anything better to do.

But as a favor to his favorite kid, Eddie’s DMing their summer campaign as a last hurrah. Just Wheeler, Henderson, Sinclair, and a slightly newer addition — Will Byers, who came after his time, but seems a nice enough kid. It gives the boys a chance to all play together one last time before they part ways.

Eddie hopes they manage to stay friends, despite it all.

“Thanks, Henderson, but I think I’ve got a handle on things,” Eddie says sarcastically.

Dustin gives him an annoyingly-superior look. “I’m just saying, Suzie and I have been in a loving relationship for many years now — if you need any dating advice, I’m your guy.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms. “Dude, she’s spent almost all the time you’ve known her across the country in Mormonland.”

Purely defensive. He hates to admit it, but Dustin’s right. He and Suzie’s relationship has lasted for a far, far longer time than any fling Eddie’s ever had. But that doesn’t mean he’s gonna sit down and let the little twerp talk to him like he knows something about something.

Little — Dustin Henderson is college-bound, heading off to some fancy private school on a merit scholarship, leaving Hawkins and grabbing life by the balls. He might still be a shrimpy dork, but Eddie’s secretly mourning the impending loss of his young friend.

“So,” continues Dustin, chomping on a Twizzler, lounging back against the cushions, “when do I get to meet her?”

Eddie chuckles, yanking the candy bag across the couch towards himself. “Uh, I don’t know. Whenever she wants to, I guess.”

Dustin snickers. “Would you be mad if I just showed up at her job and ambushed her?”

Eddie cuts his eyes over to the younger boy, wry smirk on his lips. “To be honest, I’m kind of surprised you haven’t done that already.”

“I haven’t been reading much this summer,” Dustin admits. “Too busy trying to cram in a bunch of stuff before we all…” he trails off, gaze growing distant.

“Yeah,” Eddie mutters back. He’s been there.

Dustin coughs. “Anyway, you should invite her to meet us at Benny’s after this. You said you’re picking her up from work, right?”

Eddie thinks it over for a moment, then shrugs. “Sure. I’ll ask her.”

The rickety front door swings open, a trio of laughing teenage boys barging in without bothering to knock. Tall, gangling Mike; Lucas, smiling in his letterman jacket; and Will, hanging back shyly, clutching his player’s handbook.

Eddie can’t help but grin. Dustin cocks an eyebrow at them.

“You assholes ready or what?”

Throughout the entire day, you think about what Marissa told you.

Yes, you’re angry at her for somehow thinking that would be an appropriate conversation for the two of you to have. Yes, you’re upset to hear her say such disparaging things about someone you’ve known to be nothing but sweet and kind. It feels like such an injustice, that Eddie be subjected to such cruel remarks.

But still, there’s a sliver of uncertainty in your heart now, a dark cloud looming in the distance of yours and Eddie’s budding relationship.

When your shift ends, you linger outside by the doors, waiting for Eddie to pick you up. A tiny part of you regrets the decision to let him bring you in to work, but you try and shake the feeling away.

You hate that you’re feeling this way. Internally, you scold yourself for letting Marissa’s words get to you. Why should you listen to what she says, anyway? Don’t you trust that you know him better than she does?

Do you believe Eddie to be a devil-worshipping cult leader? Certainly not. Eddie is a far cry away from what the media makes guys like him out to be. He’s not violent, or practicing any Satanic rituals; he just happens to like scary music and think that fantasy games are cool.

Do you believe Eddie to be a drug dealer? Well, that one, maybe…

Do you believe Eddie to have some sordid past — or, more worryingly, present — with someone named Chrissy Cunningham?

Before you can decide what to think about her, the sound of a wailing guitar drifts through the air, getting louder and louder — finally, a familiar green and white van is turning the corner, Eddie’s dark head, visible through the open windows, bobbing up and down in time with the music.

“Hey!” he shouts with a grin as he approaches the curb, yelling so as to be heard over the noise. With some effort, you smile back. He lowers the tape so it plays at a more bearable volume, as you open the door and climb into the passenger seat.

“Hi,” you greet him.

He leans across the center consol to give you a kiss, one calloused hand cupping your cheek. You can his smell cologne, the sweat beaded on his neck, and a faint smokiness clinging to his curls, you suppose, from his last cigarette; these, combined with how soft and plush his lips feel against yours push the thought of Chrissy Cunningham temporarily from your mind, along with any other thought you may have potentially had in this moment.

Eddie pecks at your lips again and again, then settles back in his seat, letting his hand fall onto your knee. “How was work?”

You squirm uneasily. “It was fine,” you half-lie, not sure what you should tell him.

“Kids behaving?” he asks.

“About as much as I could expect them to,” you sigh.

Eddie gazes at you, his dark eyes curious; you’re normally much more upbeat than this when you see him after a long day. His face brightens when he remembers what he wanted to ask you, thinking that it may cheer you up. “Well, it’s all over with now, right? You’re free. And I had an idea, if you’re up for it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he explains, “I was thinking, I can take you home, or — if you want — you can come get dinner at Benny’s with me and the guys?” He smiles hopefully. “The others are on their way there already. They’re dorks, but they’re good kids, and Dustin has been bugging me to bring you around.”

You think it over. Admittedly, you’ve been dying to see how Eddie acts around his teenage friends. And maybe this is just what you need to dispel your discomfort; a night out with Eddie and his pals, surrounded by people who know and love him.

Eddie senses your hesitation. “We won’t be out too long,” he reassures you, “because I’m working tonight. But still, no pressure if you’re not up for it.”

He leaves the choice up to you, but he’s giving you the puppy dogs. You nod, giving in. “Okay,” you agree. “Sounds like fun.”

Being crammed in a diner booth with five other guys isn’t normally your idea of comfortable, but their raucous laughter and boyish antics make it just that — comfortable. You’re pushed up against the wall, with Eddie pressed into your side, one tatted arm slung over your shoulder. Dustin sits opposite you, with Will and Lucas; Mike occupies the last seat next to Eddie.

The affection between the younger boys is tangible; this is a group of friends who have known each other a long, long time. They all talk at once, interrupting and speaking over one another, unless someone shoots a question at you, in which case, Eddie holds up a hand to silence them all, so your response can be heard.

Eddie interjects every so often, arguing playfully and poking fun at them, but he mostly watches with amusement, letting them carry the bulk of the conversation. It’s funny; he has the air of a cool uncle about him, the one who supervises carefully but also lets you sneak a sip from his can of beer when no one’s looking.

More than once, you notice Eddie glancing sidelong at you, watching your reaction to the spectacle before you. He smiles when you catch him, and squeezes your thigh under the table.

“So you woke up early to take her to work, ran D and D all day, and now you’re going to work a late shift? Are you planning on going to sleep on top of the bar?” Dustin is staring at Eddie in disbelief.

Eddie shrugs. “I sleep all day on Sunday.” He suddenly flicks a french fry at Dustin across the table. “What can I say? I’m extremely devoted to all of you,” he says sarcastically.

“One of us, anyway,” snickers Lucas, nodding his head at you.

“And don’t you forget it,” Eddie replies sternly, tightening the arm he has around you, holding you as closely as the cramped space permits. Without an ounce of shame or embarrassment, he leans in and smacks a wet kiss to your forehead.

A chorus of “oooh”s erupts, along with one “gross!” and you can’t stop the happy smile from unfurling across your face.

In this greasy diner booth surrounded by teenage boys, with Eddie so unabashedly declaring his affection for you, the pressure that’s been weighing on your chest since this morning dissipates almost completely.

“Ask him about Chrissy Cunningham.”

Almost.

The car ride home is quiet. Eddie has foregone his metal tapes, and instead lets the radio softly crackle out a tune from The Cure. Normally he’d switch the station in distaste, but something about it tonight just feels right.

“You’re just like a dream…you’re just like a dream…”

You’re gazing out the window, seemingly lost in thought. He can’t stop sneaking looks at you, at the way your lips are parted, the slight furrow to your brow. He wants to kiss the worry-line away.

“Everything okay?”

Your eyes refocus on him, and you give him a half-smile. “Everything’s okay,” you tell him, looking back down again, twiddling your thumbs.

There’s a hitch in your voice that concerns him. “Tired?” he asks hesitantly, unsure if he should press the issue.

“Yeah, kind of. Things were…a little overwhelming today, I guess.”

Eddie frowns. “They should give you a helper or something. That’s a lot to deal with by yourself, even if it’s only for an hour or two.” He pulls up to the curb in front of your house, engine idling. Then he moves in for another kiss, gentler than any other he’s given you today.

After just a few moments, you’re the one to break it, pulling back ever so slightly and leaving him wanting.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you whisper, breath ghosting over his lips. You’re already reaching behind you for the door handle.

Eddie's caught off guard by the speed of your goodbye. “Goodnight,” he replies, dazed, sad to see you wrenching the door open so quickly, without the usual lingering kisses and touches he adores.

You hop out and he watches your retreating back as you tread across the sidewalk towards the house. He leans over the center consol, towards the open passenger window. “Sweetheart?” he calls out.

You turn back to face him. “Yeah?”

He makes a come-hither motion with two ringed fingers. “Come here for a second.”

You double back and make your way around the vehicle, so you’re standing on the other side of Eddie’s door. With your arms propped against the sill of his window, you lean against the van, letting it support your weight.

You look at him expectantly, waiting.

He reaches out and touches your face, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone, savoring the feeling of your skin underneath the rough pads of his fingers.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight. I know I sort of sprung it on you,” he says apologetically.

You smile at him, warm though tinged with a sadness he can’t put his finger on. “I had fun. You’re right — they are nice boys.”

Eddie sighs, still tracing your flesh. “Could I trouble you for one more kiss?” he asks quietly, blushing cheeks dimpling. “For the road?”

To his relief, you seem to melt a little, swaying lightly on your feet as you hold onto the sill and oblige him.

Eddie’s other hand molds to the back of your head, cradling it in his palm as he kisses you one last time, urgency pervading all his senses, as though he might not get another.

When he releases you he's breathless, and he rests his forehead against yours for a moment, letting your noses rub together. Finally, he relaxes back in the seat.

“Get some sleep, honey,” he says.

thank you for reading!! <3

taglist: @eddiesgirlforever, @eds6ngel, @sheisahauntedhouse, @lokis-tardis-companion19, @teary-eyed-egg, @whenshelanded, @nanaminswhore, @witchwolflea, @kores-mun-son-n-more

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

250 notes · View notes

mlmxreader · 5 months

Text

The Outlaw In Front of You | Arthur Morgan x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ arthur morgan x gn!reader (or male, idrc) “Do we have to meet in a dingy motel in the middle of fucking nowhere?” aftermath of smut, like they’re both putting their clothes on when one of you two realize you only meet in hotels/motels - @mockerycrow ❞

: ̗̀➛ It's a moment of curiosity, a moment of wondering "we've always done this, but why?". Nothing else.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, sexual references

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Drying yourself off with the towel, you hummed as you thought about your relationship with Arthur; for years, you had been together, and although you didn’t mind the secrecy and the sneaking around, you did have to admit - you were kind of curious as to why he always asked you to meet in inns all the time as opposed to in the houses of your friends or at your own home.

You knew it was safe there, as your friends were all… sympathetic, for lack of a better word, when it came to you and Arthur. There was no way that they would tell bounty hunters where he was, and he knew that.

It was just a little curiosity, you didn’t actually mind it so much; a good, warm bed for the night with a hot meal and the man you cared most about in the world beside you - what could possibly be to complain about?

Plus, admittedly, it usually got you away from the small rural village where you worked and lived. It always gave you a change of scenery for a night - or two, if Arthur had found a good enough excuse to be gone from the gang for so long.

But as you left the bathroom and went back into the main bedroom where Arthur was, you paused at the door frame, leaning against it with your arms crossed over your chest; you watched him as he pulled on his trousers, and when he noticed you there, he looked over, and he smiled.

“You all good?”

You nodded, running your hand over the soft bite mark on your throat absent-mindedly. “You sure did a number on me, cowpoke.”

Arthur laughed softly, blush across his features as he chewed at the inside of his lip. “I didn’t mean t’be so rough…”

“Oh, I know, don’t worry… plus, I like it when you fuck me and mark me,” you hummed, coming to sit beside him. Gently, you kissed his bare shoulder. “Y’know, I’ve been meaning to ask - do we have to meet in a dingy motel in the middle of fucking nowhere?”

He shrugged, taking a moment to look at you and all the marks he had left across your skin. “No, but… it’s nice to get away, ain’t it? Just us?”

You nodded, licking your lips. “I’m not complaining, mind… I like the fact that we can go somewhere.”

Arthur nodded, daring to softly kiss you. “You said about a museum a few miles back… I ain’t gotta go back to camp for a couple days - said I was trackin’ down a lead… if you wanna go, we can.”

“You? In a museum?” You scoffed, raising a brow. “I didn’t think it was your sorta thing.”

“It ain’t,” he admitted with a shrug, handing you your shirt when he noticed the small bumps up and down your arms. “But… you like ‘em, don’t ya?”

“I do, yeah,” you tugged on the shirt between short, soft kisses. “But I don’t wanna drag you along if you ain’t gonna enjoy it.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout me,” he moved so that he could gently lie you on the bed, straddling your waist as he gently ran his thumb down your jaw. “I ain’t that worried - if you’re gonna like it… we can go.”

“Arthur,” you hummed, hooking your arms around his neck as you smiled. “For a son of a bitch, you sure can be a good damn boyfriend, y’know.”

He smiled, daring to steal another kiss. “Do you wanna go?”

“I do,” you whispered. “And to make it up to you, I’ll buy the first round at the saloon?”

“That sounds great,” he admitted softly. “How’d I get so lucky?”

Arthur wasn’t shy about it. He knew he had found the diamond in the rough with you; he knew that he had found someone who was more than willing to go through every risk and precaution there was to be with an outlaw like him, someone who knew what they were getting into and didn’t mind.

You could keep yourself safe, he had seen that much when you had taken on a pack of wolves who were after a local herd of sheep; he didn’t have any doubts that you could have held your own if bounty hunters were to get in your way.

Sure, he still wanted to protect you, but no more so than anyone else in the world wanted to protect their own partners. He knew he could never introduce you to Dutch or Charles or Lenny or Hosea or Abigail, but that wasn’t your fault in the slightest; you couldn’t change something like that, although he was sure you would have tried if you could.

With you, it wasn’t like with his other partners; you didn’t try to change him at all. You didn’t try and convince him to leave the only family he had ever known, you didn’t try to turn him into a gentleman.

You were content with Arthur the way he was, although you did keep telling him off for shaving, which never failed to make him laugh. You didn’t tell him to change the way he spoke, to try and take away his strong, thick working class accent.

Never once. You didn’t try to tell him that he had to speak “properly”, or that he had to watch how much he swore. The Arthur you had in front of him was the one you were content with, the one you loved.

You always made that known to him, that you loved him just as he was; you noticed a few times when you were first together that he often tried to make himself into someone different, and since then, you always felt like you had to tell him - you didn’t want him to be somebody else, you didn’t want him to try and act like somebody else.

You wanted Arthur Morgan.

You didn’t want somebody else, you didn’t want an actor, you wanted the outlaw you had fallen in love with.

The outlaw you adored.

82 notes · View notes

ladylooch · 4 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/ladylooch/738802484095647744/i-miss-timo-and-emma-just-the-two-of-them-alone

Something sweet. I was thinking a surprise to T by Em. He is tired so she decides that they have to escape for a few days. She doesn't say anything, she picks him up after the practice and he thinks they will return home. Instead she drives them to a beautiful chalet and they have a beautiful night ( dancing, drinking and more...) It's a silly idea.... If you don't like it you can write whatever you want!!! I know it will be great since you are the writer

A/N: This is a perfect idea 🥰 Thank you so much for requesting this! I love writing T and Em. To revisit the two of them alone together is such a treat!

Word Count: 3.2k

On a sunny Swiss afternoon, Timo and Nico walk out of practice together, chatting about weekend plans for the rare, four day weekend they have off. Although it is the off-season, they are both deep into intense training plans for the upcoming season. Timo’s off-day plans are to sleep, sleep, and more sleep. But the Meier babies, and mama, may have a different idea. They haven’t spent much time as a family together this summer yet. Too many obligations between both parents and other family members demanding attention.

“Either way, I’m happy to step away from hockey for a few days.” Timo pushes his black sunglasses up his nose.

“Yeah. Looking forward to snuggles with Lex and the girls.” Nico admits. “Maybe we can get together with all the kids?”

“Did you miss the part where I said all I want to do is sleep?” Timo laughs, stopping at the front of his backed-in car.

“Looks like we got some grand theft auto happening here.” Nico laughs at his sister’s giddy face sitting in the driver’s seat of Timo’s car. Her chin is resting on the steering wheel as she grins at her husband. The driver’s side window rolls down.

“Get in, Timo Time. We’re going on a riiiiide.” She watches Timo walk around to the passenger side. He tosses his bag in a back, then slides into the passenger seat. “Hey Neeks, if we are missing for three days, don’t try to find us.” Emma grins. Nico salutes her with two fingers then gets into his car. Emma smirks. He’s going to get home to find a few more babies in his house than when he left for training.

“Hi baby.” Timo leans over, kissing Emma. She hums into his mouth, then takes one hand off the wheel to kiss him harder. Her nails drag at his scalp gently.

“Mmm, hi.” She responds, eyes doey and liquid.

“You missed me so much you had to pick me up?”

“I wanted to do something nice for you.” Timo squints at her, cocking his head.

“Or you wanted to get out of the house?”

“I mean, yeah that too.” She admits, pulling out of the parking spot.

Timo takes out his phone, checking in on the messages and emails he has from the three hours he was in training. He rubs at the vein in the center of his forehead at Larissa’s text that they need to do major plumbing repairs in the salon he co-owns with her. That is sure to cost a fortune. He glances up, getting grounded in their location, then sees Emma whiz right passed the turn to their house.

“Are we taking the scenic route home?”

“We aren’t going home. You and I are disappearing like I told Nico.”

“Where?”

“You will see.”

“Em I gotta check in at the salon with Larissa. There is an issue.”

“Your sister runs that business without you a majority of the time. She doesn’t need you to drop by and get all flustered and micromanaging.”

“I don’t micromanage.” Emma snorts. Timo contemplates. Okay maybe he does do that a little bit, but it’s not intentional. He just feels dumb when they talk about things he doesn’t know. “Are we picking up the babies?”

“No, babies are at Nico’s. So he won’t be getting sleep. I will tell you that.” Emma laughs. “I packed a bag for you. Everything is all set. Just relax.” Timo clicks his phone closed, then puts it in the pocket of his shorts. He takes a deep breath, then releases it, trying to do what his wife suggested. Yeah, maybe this is what he needs this weekend. True relaxation with the woman of his dreams.

“I can’t when you’re driving in the mountains.” He decides to poke at her.

“Shut up!” Emma snorts, slapping his thigh. “You break hard one time in the mountains and suddenly you ‘can’t drive’.” Timo wheezes as he laughs incredulously.

“Baby, you almost launched me through the windshield.”

“Well, you should have been wearing your seatbelt. Be a role model for our children.”

“We didn’t have babies then. And you know why my seatbelt was off.” Timo shakes his head. He brings his hand over to her thigh, giving it a squeeze. “I am gonna catch a nap though, if that is okay.”

“More than okay.” Emma murmurs.

Timo sleeps for about 45 minutes in the car. How he is able too stay asleep is beyond Emma. She wishes he had passed that skill onto their youngest. Liv is struggling with sleeping through the night right now. It’s been hard on everyone in the house except for Lio who seemingly sleeps through everything.

When the car arrives at the Burgenstock Resort on Lake Lucerne, Emma gently shakes Timo awake. He looks around, then slowly pops the door open to step out. Emma hands the keys over to the valet after they both grab their bags from the trunk. The check-in for their room is fast then they take the elevator to their private suite. A bottle of champagne is waiting for them along with a spread of fruit, chocolate and nuts for a quick snack.

Emma walks over to the floor to ceiling windows, looking out at the glittering blue lake. Timo comes behind her, wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her tight against him.

“This view never gets old.”

It is far from the first time Timo and Emma have visited the resort. In fact, it was one of their favorite places to sneak off to. This room in particular holds several sweet, sexy memories for the two.

“Did you request this room?”

“Mhm.” Emma nods.

“You going to let me fuck you against the window again?”

“Sure, if you’re good.” She holds his cheek to hers. “But first, we have a lot of relaxation we have to get to.”

“I need a massage. Bad.”

“Good, cause you’re getting one.” Emma spins in his arms. Timo’s hands drift to collect on the small of her back. “I’ve been missing you.” Emma confesses. “Just you. With me. No babies. No brothers or sisters or in laws or hockey.”

“This hasn’t exactly been a relaxing off-season.”

“No.” She agrees.

“I’m sorry. I overbooked myself. I can cancel some appearances.”

“No, it’s fine. You should do the things you are doing while you are home. But I need you present with me all weekend. No distractions.”

“Deal, baby.” His lips begin to consume hers in a hot kiss.

“Okay, we can’t right now.” Emma presses her palm to his chest. She is breathless and tousled. “We need to get to the spa.”

Music to Timo’s ears.

- - -

Emma relaxes back into the hot salt water of her and Timo’s private spa. She spared no expense for this weekend. They have another half day of spa time again tomorrow afternoon. By the end of the weekend, Emma is hopeful her and Timo will be throughly rejuvenated for the rest of their crazy summer. Timo and her both finished their couples massages, but he is in the sauna now, sweating out more toxins before he joins her in the comforting heat. Reaching for her champagne flute, she sips the dry liquid between her lips.

“I feel so good right now. We should get a sauna in Jersey.” His bare feet slap the tile as he comes out, wiping some of the sweat off him with a towel.

“Where would it go?” Emma ponders.

“The garage?” She nod her head in agreement. “I’ll see if Haula has the information for the guy who did his.”

Timo sits on the edge of the hot tub then lowers himself in next to Emma, careful to not disrupt the water too much. Little waves lap at Emma’s upper shoulders. Timo leans over, kissing her cheek, down her neck. Little pecks pepper her jaw to her mouth. Then she turns to kiss him full on.

“Thank you for taking care of us.” He mumbles against her lips. “Gonna take care of you when we get back to our room.”

Emma moves closer to him, bringing herself into his lap. Timo spreads his thighs to accommodate her body. She leans her back into his chest. He rests his jaw against her temple. The two fall quiet, looking out at the world enjoying their summer vacations below.

“What do you think the kids are doing right now?” Timo asks.

“Probably not missing us.” Emma murmurs, closing her eyes. “Lexi talked about them going to the splash pad.”

“Oh Livy will be so happy.” Timo runs his nose against her hair. He presses a kiss to her scalp. “We are going to FaceTime them right?” Emma swoons into his body, so thankful for the most amazing, caring, loving father for her babies.

“Of course.”

Timo’s stomach rumbles loud enough that Emma can feel it against her back. So, they decide to head back to their room and scope out the room service menu. The two decide on ordering a boat load of sushi and another bottle of white wine to share. They eat their rolls at the table, chairs turned in. Emma’s feet rest across Timo’s lap as they lounge in their robes, catching up with each other. Recently, it feels like the only things they talk about are work or the kids. This conversation focuses around goals for the future, investment ideas, and places in the world they want to make a priority to see.

“We might need to get to Australia sooner rather than later, especially if we want that third baby while Lio is still relatively young.” Emma contemplate after she swallows another piece of sushi.

“Baby, Livy is only 7 months old…” Timo trails off, surprised. He begged for years for Liv, so to hear Emma talking about getting pregnant again is unexpected.

“I know.” She murmurs, twirling the stem of her wine glass. “Just a thought. We don’t have to commit to it right now.”

“Oh, I will absolutely knock you up again, but is that good for you?”

“I’ve had healthy pregnancies. I don’t think there is much concern. I also kinda just wanna do it again and be done.” Emma answers honestly. Timo contemplates, then nods.

“You let me know. I’ll be ready.”

“I’m sure you will be.” Emma chuckles. Timo sets his chopsticks down, pushing his plate away. He gathers one of Emma’s feet into his hands, beginning to massage down the arch. Soft music has been playing through their meal from the TV. Forever and Ever by Randy Travis begins to play and Emma gasps.

“Oh my god.” She closes her eyes, grinning. “My parents used to dance to this song in our kitchen when they were making dinner.” She clasps her hands in front of her. “I remember they would dance together for part of it then my dad would pick me up and my mom would have Nico. It is my favorite memory from growing up.”

“We should dance to it then.”

Timo tugs Emma away from the table, standing and gathering her into his body. One hand goes to her hip and the other laces their hands together to lead. Emma hides her lips into his collar bone. Together, they sway across the carpet, holding each other. Timo buries his nose into Emma’s neck as she sings.

“Oh darling, I’m going to love you forever.” She sings in time with Mr. Travis. Timo’s soft breath flickers along her bare skin. He trails the tip of his nose along her bone, pressing his lips every few breaths. “I dreamed of a love like theirs in that yellow kitchen.” She whispers to her husband. “Now I wake up with it in my bed.” Emma turns her face into his neck, kissing along the thickness there. She scrapes her teeth in his sensitive skin. Carefully, she sucks his skin into her mouth, lathering her tongue over the slice until Timo moans softly.

He rushes his lips towards hers, creating a wet smear across her face. His tongue meets hers. Emma crosses her wrists behind his head, then glides her fingers into his hair. Timo’s hands wander too, down her butt to her thighs. Easily, without effort, he lifts her, then walks her down the short hallway to the bedroom. He lays her on her back. Emma tugs at his belt keeping his robe closed, wanting it off his body so she can see the reward of his summer of training. She claws her nails up his chest, letting her fingers entwine together in his hair.

The curtains are open and the soft glow of the lights along the dusty mountains creates moody lighting in their room. Timo opens Emma’s robe, tugging the sleeves quickly down her arms. They untangle from the soft cloth, hurried and eager. There is no need for foreplay, they’re both more than ready, so Timo doesn’t waste anymore time. He grips the base of his shaft, needing to be bottomed out in her immediately.

“Ohmygod. Baby, you feel so good.” He sighs into her lips. Emma moans when he glides out then presses in deep again. Timo pulls Emma’s legs up to his shoulders, plowing into her tight, wet heat again and again. His big hands grip her ass, finger prints melting into her skin. Emma closes her eyes, heavy breathing beginning to fill the room from both of them. Timo licks his lips, watching with feral eyes as his wife’s body surrenders to him with each thrust. “Just like that.” He encourages her, fucking deeper into her. “Lose yourself in us.”

“You fuck me so good.” Emma whines out. Her hands roll up her sides, then squeeze her breasts. Timo adjusts her legs to be on one side of him, then curls them down so they are folded up to one side of her. He drops her back to the bed, then snaps his hips against her ass so hard Emma feels the wave of collision roll up to her scalp. “Oh shit.” Her words quiver with the first flick of orgasm in her core.

“Yeah, let it take you.” He encourages.

Timo reaches towards her chest, rolling her nipple as the snap of his hips becomes crude and demanding. Emma arches her back. Timo pins her hips to the bed so she can’t wiggle away from the spot or tempo that is calling her orgasm. Emma’s breathing becomes ragged, urgent as she grits her teeth and then unleashes a scream of his name. He pumps her through, waiting for her to open her eyes. When she does, he taps her thigh, bringing her to her knees, ass in the air, so he can bury himself deep again. She is soaked through for him, like a wet cave of pleasure that makes his dick twitch, dribbling a bit into her before he focuses back in on her next explosion.

Timo connects her back with his chest, running his hands along her sides. He settles back on her hips, rocking her from behind onto his cock with each press forward. His nose curves along her spine as he focuses in on the right tempo for her. He licks along the knots there, smiling into her flesh as a guttural moan releases from low in her chest.

Emma looks over her shoulder at him, wanting to see his smug, victorious face as he fucks her so well. She smiles at him, dimples coming out, making Timo kiss the one closest to him.

“Remember last time we were here?” She asks him.

How could he forget? When he whisked her away to be alone, no other distractions, just the two of them on a long weekend in the Swiss Alps. It had been during COVID. The place had practically been deserted, but also safe despite the virus that gripped the globe. Timo had fallen in love with Emma then. He had her time and time again, in different, new positions, hard and fast and slow and lazy, until they had to stop because neither of them could take anymore. It was a marathon of sex and two people falling in love.

“Did you know I loved you then?” Timo hums.

“Yeah. A woman know when you’re making love to her.” Timo stops his thrusts, staying deep inside of her. He gently runs the tips of his fingers down her back, watching her skin pebble under his touch. “On your back, princess.” He coos. “Wanna see your face.”

“Things Timo Meier never thought he would tell a woman.” Emma says after she rolls. Timo chuckles then nods.

“Yeah, I’ve done and said a lot of things with you I wasn’t sure I would. You changed my life, Em.” He reaches up to the headboard, grabbing a pillow. He pulls her down to the edge of the bed so he is standing up between her spread legs. Emma lifts her head, then lays on the pillow Timo situated for her. “We never did this one.”

“No it was too intimate.” Her hands go to his abdomen, spreading out along the thick muscle there. She beholds the way they tighten as he begins to move inside of her again.

“Watch me.” He reminds her, calling her eyes to his face. A long blink pulls Emma’s gaze away from a minute. Timo surprises her with his lips on hers. He shifts her hips up with a hand at the small of her back, just slightly off the bed.

“Oh.” Emma whimpers out. Her finger nails dig into his skin at his shoulder blades. “Fuck, T. Just like that.” She exhales heavily. Her breasts dance against his strong chest with each hard pump into her. “Mmm.” His teeth bite her bottom lip. Her brown eyes open as he puts his forehead against hers, focusing in on each other. Her staccato breaths dance against his wet mouth.

“This time you’re all mine.” His husky voice has Emma’s jaw unhinging.

Timo holds her face, thumb and middle finger pressing her cheeks into a screaming O as she comes undone on his cock. He catches the last few grunts and mewls of her pleasure on his tongue. His jerky thrusts confess he is close before he unloads creamy lines into her core. Emma tugs his biceps, encouraging his weight to fall onto her frame. She wraps her arms and legs tightly around him, holding him close and inside of her. She turns her face into his cheek, eyes squeezed shut as they caress each other.

Neither of them are even sure how it happens. But in time, they fall into a slumber, tangled up like that in each other. When Timo awakens, the world is pitch black around them. Emma has rolled away from him, onto her stomach with parted lips. The moonlight splays across her back, highlighting the indents of her hips at her lower back. His fingers brush her hair out of her face so he can see the way her lashes kiss her cheek bones. A slow, accomplished smirk raises one corner of his lips as he leaves her be.

You did it, he thinks to himself. You made her fall in love with you.

Back then, he didn’t have a plan. But the way it worked out was better than he could have imagined anyway.

#tm: loving & leaving #Timo Meier x oc #Timo Meier smut #Timo Meier imagine

44 notes · View notes

multifandomimagin3s · 11 months

Text

Scottish! Reader - 141, Los Vaqueros + Konig

Requested by @nylas-teashop

AN: Saw this request and got really excited, I have quite a broad accent myself so, self-insert? Mayhaps.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

First and foremost - a massive smile breaks out on this guy's face when he finds out that you're Scottish, too.

Like genuinely, the first time he hears you speak, he's like >:D

Like his brain genuinely goes "aw yessss"

Mans probably gets a bit frustrated when he has to repeat what he says multiple times for other people - at least now that you're here he won't have to.

Since Neil Ellice is from the North of Scotland, I reckon Soap would be from around that area - although his accent does kind of give me Edinburgh vibes.

So if your accent is much broader and thicker than his, he's delighted and just loves listening to you talk.

Is also interested in hearing your local slang - since dialects vary in Scotland depending on where you're from, he's curious to hear if yours' is that much different to his own.

Definitely speaks Broad Scots more with you, and takes great delight when other people haven’t got a clue what you’re saying to each other.

It’s like a secret language for you two.

He definitely takes delight in Ghost's annoyed reaction when you're both talking, whether it be in person or over comms.

"Speak English, you two."

Soap probably asked you the number one question that every Scottish person gets asked at least once in their life -- "Do you support Rangers or Celtic?"

Probably wouldn't be arsed if you supported a different team from him, or didn't support any at all - but he'll still playfully wind you up about it on the regular.

If you happened to speak Gaelic, he'd try and get you to teach him a bit.

I can see him walking up with a big Saltire flag whenever there’s a match on between Scotland and England / anywhere else - encouraging you to take one corner and he takes the other, parading about the base.

Price has given you both in trouble for it more than a few times but after a while he kind of just gave up and elects to ignore it.

He did give Johnny a gutting out for blasting 'Flower of Scotland' at the early hours of the morning though.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Fuckin' 'ell, there's two of 'em."

Mans gets so annoyed when you and Johnny speak Scots - he doesn't know what any of the words you guys are using mean, so he's just >:(

“Speak English, for fuck sake…”

Secretly though, he actually likes your accent.

He'll never admit it though.

He's been around Johnny for long enough to get the gist of what he's saying, even though he pretends he doesn’t know what you’re saying just to wind you up.

Sometimes though, he genuinely has no idea what you're saying.

Like that time when the Team were setting up a make-shift base camp in an abandoned building that had definitely seen better days:

Y/N: Fuckin' hell, it's a bit foostie* in here.

Ghost: ...

Generally in those moments would either wait for either you or Soap to 'translate' or would just ignore it.

If you have a dry sense of humour, he’ll chuckle lightly under his mask - he’d never admit to it though.

[About Graves] Y/N: That cunt is wired to a Mars bar.*

Soap: *wheezing*

Ghost: *holding back a chuckle* Focus on the mission, (Y/L/N).

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

I think he’d get the gist of what you’re saying but only if you’re speaking slowly.

He’s been hanging around with Soap long enough to pick up what most of the slang he says means, but when you and Soap get together and speak more broadly, he doesn’t always 100% know what you’re talking about.

Would probably wind you up a lot once he gets comfortable with you - and definitely imitates your accent a lot.

He’d get used to your accent after a while and would also act as a translator if Soap isn’t there to do so.

Captain John Price

Honestly he probably would understand the majority of what you were saying - he’s been around a lot of different people during his time in the military so he gets the gist.

Sometimes though, he genuinely hasn’t the foggiest.

(Y/N): It’s awfa dreich the day, isn’t it, Sir?

Price: … it’s what??

Queue his confused expression when he finds out you were talking about the weather…

I think he’d learn quickly though - wouldn’t try and use the slang or anything, he knows he would probably butcher it.

Soap would have to translate sometimes for him, especially over comms - it would be like this part from Hot Fuzz

Generally would elect to ignore most of you and Soap's antics - watching you two bounce off each other like ping-pong balls all day would give him a migraine, so unless you break anything or make arses of yourselves, he'll let you off with it.

Tried Scottish Tablet for the first time after you made it - and had to lecture Soap who tried to eat the boiling sugary mixture out of the pot with a spoon...

Also was pleasantly surprised when you brought him some Scottish Whisky that he'd mentioned that he wanted to try.

Congratulations, you're now his favourite.

Alejandro Vargas

Oh, he loves it - has no clue what you're saying half the time but he's just happy listening to you and Soap talking away to each other.

I can see him imitating you a lot - half of the time it's to wind you up, but he genuinely thinks some Scots words are hilarious and loves to throw them into a sentence.

Even if the way he's using them sometimes just doesn't sound quite right.

Definitely gets confused when slang gets introduced into the mix.

Alejandro: So 'how' means 'why'? And 'ken' means you know something? Mi Amor, this is confusing...

If you have a strong personality and or a temper - he's smitten.

I think he likes fire in a partner *cough cough Valeria cough* so if you and Soap are tearing up the battlefield practically roaring through comms, he's definitely going to be asking you out once the mission's over.

Rudy Parra

Like Alejandro, he has no clue what you're saying more than half the time.

He's too polite to tell you outright though, so I can see him just doing the little awkward smile.

He'd learn quickly though, so while it might take him a bit to fully understand, he'll get the gist.

Konig

Poor guy has no clue what's going on.

He understands what Soap's saying about 70% of the time, and that's just from being around him long enough to pick up on his dialect.

But to hear a new accent with new slang on top of it, he's back to square one again.

If you're Glaswegian or from areas of Scotland where people tend to speak quite fast, he's just going to blink at you in confusion when you speak, trying to figure out what you said.

You'd probably have to teach him a fair bit of local slang and some Scots otherwise he'd literally never know what you were on about.

Learns quickly though.

Added a wee glossary for the Scots / slang used above ~

Foostie* - Decayed, dusty. Wired to a Mars bar* - I don’t know if this is said in other areas but where I’m from it basically means that someone is either an idiot or is insane, like they’re wired to a Mars bar (chocolate bar) instead of a battery. TLDR; They’re a headcase.

#simon riley #soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #alejandro vargas #rudy parra #konig #call of duty #multifandomimagin3s

112 notes · View notes

yowyowyaoi · 1 year

Text

Hidan: Oi, old bastard! Where the fuck are ya?! I want —

Hidan: *stops; finds Kakuzu sitting in a chair in the living room, everything dark except the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree*

Hidan: What are you doing?

Kakuzu: Don’t feel good. Trying to relax. Whatever you need, can it wait until later?

Hidan: *hesitates, then slowly comes into the room and stands in front of Kakuzu.* You have a cold or something?

Kakuzu: No, Hidan. I just … I feel a little depressed. Go away.

Hidan: *sits down on the floor, kneeling by Kakuzu’s feet* Well, tell me about it.

Kakuzu: Why?

Hidan: Because … you know I care about you, right? Why can’t you tell me when shit’s bothering ya?

Hidan: *rests his head on Kakuzu’s legs and speaks very softly* Let me help.

Kakuzu: *a long pause, followed by a sigh, and him slowly stroking Hidan’s hair* There’s nothing to “help” with. This time of year reminds me of my family, is all. Grew up on a farm, didn’t really have much. But mother always went out of her way to give us the best Christmas she could.

Kakuzu: Here I am, 90 years old … always thought things would be different. Didn’t expect all this … this immortality shit, you know? My life’s been chasing one thing after another. Just … I don’t know …

Hidan: *looks up into Kakuzu’s eyes* Well I’m glad you’re immortal, ‘Kuzu. I’m glad that when everyone else dies and the whole fucking world turns to ash, you’re gonna be by my side.

Kakuzu: Really?

Hidan: Yeah. And hey, the Akatsuki will be gone, and you won’t need to be chasing after money all the damn time. Maybe then we can think of starting a family of our own?

Kakuzu, softly: You’d want to have my kids?

Hidan: Shit, yeah! It’d be great, having some little bastards run around that look like us! I can teach ‘em about Lord Jashin, you can teach ‘em about all that money crap. And we can have Christmas in our own house and do everything yer parents did for you. It’ll be gre —

Kakuzu: *interrupts Hidan by leaning down and giving him a long kiss*

Kakuzu: Thank you, brat. I feel much better.

Hidan: Good. *gets to his feet* Now come on … *holds out his hand* What do ya say we have some practice runs on making those kiddos, huh?

Kakuzu: *takes his hand and the two leave*

*from behind the couch*

Sasori: Oh thank god; I thought they’d never leave …

Sasori: Although I must admit that entire conversation was very sweet.

Sasori: Dei, why can’t WE ever have heartfelt moments like that??

Deidara, pulling his pants back up:

#kakuhida #kakuzu x hidan #sasodei #sasori x deidara #the akatsuki #christmas #christmas 2022 #kakuzu #hidan #sasori #deidara #fluff

85 notes · View notes

dokidokitsuna · 1 year

Text

Working on Magical Friends: Doki’s animation “pipeline”

…Since this is still an incredibly basic 1.5-man operation, it’s not much of a pipeline. ^^; But I wanted to put together a little thing to show the public how I do what I do, and if this sounds doable or interesting to you, I’m always on the lookout for more volunteers! [email protected] is my official ‘art business’ email, just FYI~

So let’s start by taking a look at this GIF preview of a finished scene:

I chose this sequence because it’s probably the longest and most complex one I’ve done so far. The character rotates, the scene pans up, I got some spinny light effects in there, lots of weird stuff I’ve never done before. (●u●;;) But it came out alright in the end, so let’s examine it.

So before I start thinking about animating, I refer to the work of my storyboard volunteer, Greytan. They actually gave me just one simple shot:

Which I extrapolated into…what I did. ^^; I don’t mean to ‘ignore’ their boards, and I hope they don’t feel slighted when I do things like this, it’s just that they are genuinely a much more skilled and more professional animator than I am, and our brains just don’t work the same way so sometimes I have to diverge a bit. :P Or, y’know, sometimes I come up with a great idea of my own that I really wanna try, which is probably what happened here.

Anyway, my first step after looking at boards is to grab a pencil and paper and draw the shot: a picture that lays out what the scene will look like, with either the starting frame or a key frame, and the background included. As you can see, I doodled some of my ideas for how the sequence would progress, which is good, because after drawing this I wouldn’t return to this shot for like 6 weeks. ^^;

When I finally did get back to it, I grabbed a second piece of paper for Step 2, which is the actual ‘animation’: using the shot as a base to draw the rest of the frames that will go into the sequence. This is where my lightbox comes in handy, although usually I can see through the paper well enough to just draw wherever. ^^ [Fun fact: in my early days, I would just scan the original shot, erase it, and replace it with the next frame, drawing each new frame on the exact same piece of paper. I am…very glad I don’t do this anymore]

Now, animation is mostly guesswork for me. ^^ I mean, my guesses are pretty good, but they’re still guesses, which is why I call myself an amateur. It’s not me downplaying my skills, it’s just me admitting that they aren’t based on solid expertise or experience (yet).

When I animate a shot, I try to make sure each frame looks like it has movement in it all by itself. Gesture drawing, dynamic posing; those are things I’m already good at, so when I animate I make ‘em work hard for me. >:3c

The end result comes out looking kind of like a sprite sheet:

And I do use these drawings kind of like assets; Step 3 is to scan them (along with the initial shot) and use them to ‘construct’ the frames that go into the video editor. This is the step that takes the longest, where I clean up the sketches and color them and paint the backgrounds (separately, if necessary). It’s not as difficult as Steps 1 and 2, but it’s a lot more tedious.

So naturally, sometimes I like to make sure my sprites actually work before I start all that…work. ^^ So I throw together a test animation based on what I have:

And this did help-- it assured me that the first half with Mago would probably look fine, although the second half with the magic light-thing probably needed to have a cleaner sense of direction and more frantic movement as it ascended. When you’re working with a low frame-rate, you generally want things to move a LOT or hardly at all; you don’t want any of that in-between stuff. So I took that into account when preparing the “finished” product. I put “finished” in quotes because I’ll probably adjust the timing of the frames a little when I move to the video editor (Step 4, which I’m not going to talk about here). But yeah, that’s pretty much it. ^^

Generally when I think about adding artists to the team, I’m thinking about them doing Step 1, Step 2, Steps 1 and 2, or Steps 1-3 (so basically, completing a full sequence of frames that I can just add in). For me to hand sketches to someone and expect them to do Step 3 alone would require a level of trust that I’ve never had in any fellow artist before…but idk, anything can happen in the future. ^^;

#if you like any of my strategies feel free to gank them for your own projects #knowledge is power #kirby #animation #magical friends wip

45 notes · View notes

wheresthefunindoingwhatyouretold · 2 years

Text

Forbidden fruit

Summary: When you have been friends for so long you can’t really have feelings with any of them right, sleeping with one friend when you have feelings for the other can that ever end well

There has always been 2 people in your life that no matter what will always be there for you. Your two best friends. Pierre Gasly and Charles Leclerc. When you were 12 your mum got her dream job but it meant moving to France, it had only ever been you two so you packed up your lives and never looked back. Pierre was the first friend you made when you walked into your class that first day worried about making friends. He was sitting by himself not paying any attention to what was going on looking out the window, you quickly learnt that he did this a lot in class dreaming of being anywhere but this class.

The teacher made you stand at the front of your class and introduce yourself. Hi I’m (Y/N) em I just moved here and excited to be here, you had learnt a few languages growing up with your mum having worked in Spain and Italy before but your French needed some work. Pierre broke away from his daydream when you started talking, he always said when he was being cute that the second he saw you he knew he wanted you to be in his life forever.

Your mum and his mum started to get along always seeing each other at at drop off and pick up which lead to them meeting up for coffees after work and spending all their free time together Pierre’s mum’s main goal was to find your mum a husband, she would eventually work her magic and your mum found her perfect person. Who would have thought all I had to do was move my life to another county to find the one she would always say. He was not just a step dad to you, he was your dad now.

Both your parents and Pierres parents spent all their free time together which was great because you got to spend all your time with your best friend. Not long after you met Pierre you found out about his dream and where he disappeared to all the time. He was going to be a formula 1 driver you always knew he would make it to his dream. The way he talked about his dream his eyes just lit up when he talked about it all. He had asked you to come along to one of his karting competitions. This is where you met your other best friend. Charles Leclerc, he was as lovely as Pierre and as funny you have always been so proud of them two reaching their dream. It was weird those 2 spent so much time together as time went on but it never mattered to your friendship with either of them. You knew this was how it would have to be so they could get to live their dreams. It worked better you felt because when they were home with no races to go to you got to spend all their free time with you, with not worrying about racing you got the fun side of them both.

Charles lived in Monaco but any chance he got he would be with you and Pierre and during the summer holidays and winter breaks you would go and stay with Charles. Pierres family had a home there and as you got older they let you both go and stay without them, they trusted you not to wreck the place too much. Although after Pierres 18th party there were some rules put in place.

A few of your friends from uni couldn’t understand how you could spend all this time with both of them and not love one of them. yeah you loved them both but not in that way.

“But they are so hot like how can you be around them all day and not want to jump on them” you always laughed when the topic of your two “hot friends” were brought up. You had told your closest girl friend that you would never have feelings for them. It wouldn’t be worth your friendship also. They are F1 drivers who you had to admit were 2 of the best looking people you had seen so there was no way either of them would look at you that way. They were your best friends. You couldn’t think of them that way.. could you?

You never told them that Pierre and you had slept together twice when you were both 17 it wasn’t like you were going out or anything like that. A lot of your friends had all done it and you both thought it would be better to have your first time with someone you loved and cared for without it being awkward. So one weekend when both your parents were away you two decided it was the right time. This seemed like a good thing you had been each others first kiss as well when you were like 13 so it didn’t really count so this was a way for you both to get it over with without it being weird. The first time he was so sweet and nice he kept asking if you were okay. You both sort of laughed through it it wasn’t anything special neither of you knew what you were doing. There was nothing romantic about it, didn’t spend ages before getting each other off before but you did like it and you laughed the whole time after it was like wanna go watch a movie like you had not just had sex. The next day was the second and last time just to make sure you both had a good idea of what you were doing. If you ever told those friends they would not believe you that you didn’t have feelings. Pierre told Charles you didn’t mind they were all playing a drinking game at some race weekend event and someone said never had i ever slept with anyone and Pierre drunk. Charles would not drop it until he told him who with, this was his best friend how could he not know.

(y/n) they are just going to be your forbidden fruit then said Sarah. What are you talking about, you starting laughing, what is a forbidden fruit?

Sarah was your closest friend that wasn’t friends with Pierre and Charles she had met them a few times went out with you all before for your birthdays but it was always good to have a girl friend to talk to as much as having those two as your best friends there was a side of you that was really girly that loved makeup and crying watching movies and picturing a happily ever after. Sarah was your go to person when you needed to talk about guys you liked, what outfits to wear and to just be a girl with.

OKAY Sarah whatever you say, she throws a swimming suit at you and you both start laughing. you two spent the next few hours packing and looking up the place you were going to stay. looks very romantic don’t you think (y/n)? yeah very romantic you roll your eyes when we have 2 separate rooms. Pierre had started seeing a girl named Amy. She was lovely and she knew there was nothing between you two but you felt to be nice you would get your own room not for any other reason than to give them time at night to call each other and have time together as best they could when she couldn’t be there.

You had just got out of the shower getting ready to get some sleep before your early flight. There was a text from Charles.

The alarm went off too soon but you were getting to spend a whole week with your best friend just the two of you. You walked to your kitchen to make coffee when the door opened. Pierre had a key to your house and would always let you in. You were busy making coffee when he was leaning against your fridge. You could see him out of the corner of your eye it looked like he was looking you up and down and then had a smirk on his face. What was it with your two friends acting weird? You handed him his coffee and he set it down and pulled you into a hug, Pierres hugs were always the best you just felt safe and at peace when he hugged you. You pulled away and you met each other’s eyes. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue you had ever seen and his smile was infectious. “I’ve missed you so much (Y/N)” he kissed your cheek. It had been two weeks from you had seen Pierre growing up around F1 you had fallen in love with it almost as much as the boys did, when it came time to decide what you want to do in life you decided you wanted to work in F1 you got a job right after uni as a press officer for Red bull Pierre likes to think it was down to him so apparently you owed him one. It was the winter break so you had spent time with your friends and your mum and dad while Pierre had gone to spend time with Amy. It was the first time in as long as you two had known each other that you had not spent the whole Christmas break together this is why this trip was going to be so great just you two no work nothing.

The flight was fine, you still never got used to flying around the world. As soon as the plane took off he was holding your hand he knew this was the worst part. He knew everything about you of course he knew holding your hand was the only thing to calm you down. You kept catching him looking at you. Why did this make your heart flutter? This was your best friend. You put the fluttering down to worrying about the flight.

The first day was perfect. You had always wanted to go to the Maldives so for your joint 25th birthday you two decided it would be a great trip just you two halfway to 50 you have to mark it with something fun.

You sat all day laying in the sun they had these hammocks hanging on the side of the rooms over the water. You looked at Pierre lying there. You did have to admit he was the most beautiful guy you had ever met but you could appreciate how he looked without wanting him right?

After dinner and drinks you both went back to your rooms he was away to facetime Amy. You put the feeling you had at dinner down to being in a really romantic place and being single and you just wanted what he and Amy had not that you wanted him..

It was really warm and I couldn’t sleep. So you opened your laptop and saw that Charles was on twitch so you sat watching for a while. For some reason you thought you would mess with him while he was playing try and throw him off his game

(Y/N) : Picture sent: Tan lines already would have to wear nothing to make sure I get a good over all tan.

You noticed in the picture you sent you were biting your lip and you thought you looked good.

Charles xx : holy fuck (Y/N) that picture has made me hard.. wish i was there..

Well that was not what you were expecting but it made you smile. What were you both playing at this was going beyond the realms of your friendship but what harm would some flirting do.

(Y/N) : oh so you’re hard right now.. if I knew that a picture like that had that effect on you I would have sent it sooner.

Charles xx : I’m like that around you all the time. I don’t need pictures but it does help ;)

could he really be like that around you he was Charles the most beautiful woman threw themselves at him how could you be his type not to mention you were his best friend didn’t that matter.

(Y/N) oh really well next time were together I’ll have to see for myself help take care of that for you xx

These types of messages went back and forth all night. You got a thrill out of teasing him with snap chats and messages both detailing what you wish you could do to each other right now. You told him you were wet thinking about his dick. He sent you a snap chat of a video of him playing with himself. There was no going back. You had seen his dick and you wanted it, you messaged him back telling him you wish you were on your knees right now in front of him. That was enough for him to cum thinking of you being the one doing that.

Read part 2 here

#pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #pierre gasly #charles x reader

76 notes · View notes

lyranova · 2 years

Text

The Mirror

Hi guys! Here’s another one for Yamichar week, i decided on the prompt “mirror” and I hope you all enjoy 🥰!

Taglist: @eme-eleff @flow3rbudz @yamicharweek

Word Count: 724

Warnings: None

©️This Oneshot belongs to LyraNova, please do not repost or translate without my permission!

———

Charlotte made a small huff as she looked in the mirror. She did not like what she saw reflecting back at her, not one bit.

Today she was trying on wedding dresses, she had gone through at least five or six so far, but none of them were really it. They were all nice and pretty in their own ways, and they probably looked very beautiful on other women, but they just didn’t look right on her.

“ Why is this so stressful? All I need to do is pick one.” Charlotte huffed as she slipped another dress off her body and placed it over the chair. Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with the dress at all, maybe it was her that was the problem? She shook her head. No, that couldn’t be it.

If there was anything Charlotte was certain of in this world, it was that she wanted to marry Yami Sukehiro.

She leaned over and grabbed another dress and slipped it on, this one was a little fuller than the last one, it had roses on the bodice that spread up and to the off the shoulder sleeves. It wasn’t bad, it had been one of the better ones she had seen. She pulled her blonde hair up into a makeshift bun and sighed.

“ Hey, what’s taking so long?” A voice asked on the other side of the door, Charlotte’s eyes widened.

“ Wait Yami-!” She shouted but Yami had already opened the door and peeked inside.

The couple's eyes met in the mirror, and Charlotte watched as Yami’s eyes widened. He looked her up and down in awe, and she swore she saw a faint blush on his cheeks. She quickly looked away and cleared her throat as a blush creeped onto her face.

“ You look…” Yami trailed off softly, Charlotte dropped her hand from her hair and let her blonde locks fall around her shoulders again.

“ It’s pretty bad isn’t it?” Charlotte muttered as she once again looked in the mirror, her eyes caught his and she saw a small glare in them.

“ I was going to say you looked beautiful.” He told her sternly as he walked up behind her, she swallowed a small lump in her throat as her heart began to beat faster.

“ Why did you think I was going to say it looked bad?” Yami asked curiously, Charlotte let out a soft sigh.

“ Because, no matter how many dresses I try on, none of them seem to be the right one.” She said softly, Yami tilted his head slightly.

“ What’d you mean? I’m sure they all look great.” Yami said, but she once again shook her head.

“ They are all great. It’s just, whenever I look in the mirror and see myself wearing these dresses. They aren’t the ones I’m looking for.” She said hesitantly, she couldn’t quite figure out how to explain it to him, she suddenly felt his arms wrap around her shoulders.

“ You’re looking for the ‘perfect’ one huh?” He asked her softly. “ But the thing is Prickly Princess, all those dresses are perfect and ya wanna know why?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“ Because the one wearing them is the perfect one.” He told her, Charlotte couldn’t help but chuckle at his cheesy line.

“ Where did you hear that one from?” She asked light heartedly, Yami hugged her closer.

“ Oldgoleon said it, I think.” Yami admitted sheepishly, Charlotte laughed softly before Yami gently kissed her on the shoulder.

“ I’m serious though, the person looking at me in the mirror, that beautiful blonde haired woman right there, she could be wearing nothing but a paper sack on our wedding day, and she’d still be the most beautiful and perfect woman in the room.” He told her softly, Charlotte felt her face turn red again.

“ When did you become so cheesy and romantic?” She asked playfully.

“ When I finally got the girl.” He told her, although he wasn’t going to admit it was probably because he was spending too much time with Finral, William, and the other hopeless romantics he knew.

“ Right.” She chuckled again and the couple just stood there holding each other for a while until she made him leave so she could finally decide on a dress. Otherwise she would be wearing a paper sack on their wedding day.

———

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day 🥰!

#black clover #yamichar #yamichar week #yamichar week 2022 #yc22 #yami x charlotte #charlotte x yami #yami sukehiro #charlotte roselei #black clover fanfic #black clover fanfiction

57 notes · View notes

like-rain-or-confetti · 2 years

Text

Return Home (Sinclair Brothers x Reader)

WARNING: Mentions of drug abuse! Violence! Traumatic childhoods! Mentions of Dyslexia!

P.S. I have never taken drugs nor to I encourage them nor do I, to my knowledge, have Dyslexia. Some representations may not be accurate. Nothing on this blog is meant to upset or offend anyone. It’s only for entertainment and a story.

Jonesy jumped out of the truck as Lester shut the door after a long day of work. Night had fallen upon the town the dim lights offering merely an illumination of the surrounding areas. Jonesy wasted no time rushing to the stairs and pawing against the door. "A'right, a'right Jonesy, I'm comin'." Lester couldn't help but smile tiredly. "You hungry, girl?" Lester asked as he pushed the door open. Jonesy excitedly rushed in. "Damn girl, you are hungry." Lester called after her. "Oi! Vincent!? We're back!" Jonsey rushed back towards Lester as footsteps followed behind. Lester dumped his keys in the bowl and expected to see Vincent. Although he was caught off guard as soon as he looked up.

Vincent was not who greeted him. It was you, his older sibling. You were the second youngest of the Sinclair siblings. However you were the most estranged. The three brothers had remained in the family home as well as their mother's town of wax. As time went on, Vincent was the one who really finished the town, taking over for her after their mother died. Meanwhile, no one heard from you. For all they knew, you were dead in a ditch the night you were kicked out. You gave your parents minimal contact twice. Your vague and small responses being the only thing they got from you. They tried to reach out twice but the Sinclair’s always reckoned that you never forgave them for kicking you out. You held everyone at arms length. No one more than your own family.

"Hey Les." You said quietly. "W-Well I'll be damned. What are you doing here?" A smile broke onto Lester's face. "I didn't know you were coming." "Call it a surprise visit." You smiled back before Lester moved forward and hugged you. You gave the best hugs, that was determined when you were kids. If anyone's hugs could make things better, it was yours. Too bad Bo's way of releasing stress was violence.

As you grew older, the less of a hugger you were. Then again, your cheerful nature faded with it. Your drug problem started in your teens and when your parents found out, they were livid. However it took the day you destroyed your mother's work room and everything in it. That was the final straw. They had taken your stash and got rid of it. When you realised, you were furious. Your father yelled at you to never come back and you did exactly that, even when your parents asked you to return. It was like you had just stopped existing.

"How have you been?" Lester asked as he pulled back. You nodded with a small smile. "Good. Clean. Two years sober." Lester's smile widened. "That's great! How long you staying?" You shrugged. "I guess it depends how things go here. I heard that..." You trailed off for a moment. "...about ma." "Yeah well...that was a while ago now." Lester scratched the back of his head somewhat uncomfortable. "I know. I just...I had a lot to figure out. I wasn't even sure if I should be here now." You admitted. "I'm glad your here." Lester reassured you. "Better late than never right?" You sent him a look. "Don't think Bo will see it that way."

Before Lester could reply, there was a creak from the other room and Vincent emerged around the corner. He paused before moving slowly. You were unable to see behind his mask but his body language showed his surprise and slight unease. "Hi Vince..." You said quietly. Vincent wasn't much of a talker. He could talk but kept to very few words. It was considered difficult for him due to his scars. So his silence wasn't anything new. "God! We hoped they'd come back for years Vin, after all this time, give 'em a hug!" Lester said. You made it easier for Vincent stepping forward and doing most of the work so all he really had to do is wrap his arms around you. He seemed almost afraid to touch you. Vincent hadn't changed. After a second you pulled back, recoiling. That hadn't changed about you either. You always held back on your parents and your brothers. Once again Jonesy barked, growing excited and bounded into the room. "Hi Jonesy!" You smiled as the dog rushed towards you for pets and affection. "What the fuck are you doing here?" The room seemed to grow colder. "Hey, Bo." You said quietly. "Ain't it great!?" Lester asked. Bo scoffed. "It's been years." He said icily. "You clean?" Bo huffed, his hands crossed over his chest. "You better not have brought that shit with you!" "I haven't used in years. Get off my ass." You grumbled. "Yeah!" Lester nudged Vincent who looked at him. "Two years sober they were tellin' me!" "Will you shut the fuck up?" Bo snapped at Lester. "They could be fuckin' lyin', did you ever think of that!?" Bo turned his attention back to you. "We ain't got nothin' for you. We've got no money for you. Ma and Pa are dead. You missed the funeral." You sighed. "I don't want your money. I've got my own and I'm not using anymore." Bo scoffed again. "So why you here then, hm? What brought us to mind? Not like you cared to keep in touch any other time." "You want me to leave?" You asked sharply. "No!" Lester said quickly. "Don't...Don't be hasty!" Lester looked at his siblings. "This is what Ma wanted. She wanted (Y/N) home. The family back together!" "Yeah, problem is (Y/N) knew that and decided to hold off until she's dead." Bo snapped. You sighed. "I'll get going then. Clearly I'm just bothering you." Lester pushed Bo's arm. "Don't bother. You came all this way." Bo said coldly. "How long you stayin'?" "I don't know. I didn't make much plans. Didn't want to assume I'd be welcome." You retorted. Bo didn't answer and simply walked off.

Jonesy led you down the narrow corridor. It was covered in wax, making you wary of possibly slipping. Whilst Jonesy seemed to have no issues. Vincent turned his head towards you both. Jonesy brushed against Vincent’s leg as she passed him. “Hey Vince...” You muttered. Vincent nodded quietly to you in greeting. You looked around the dimly lit workshop that was littered with candles in all corners around the room. “Wasn’t this ma’s workshop? It looks so different from before.” Vincent nodded again as he began to round up off all of his tools. “Somehow this house looks exactly the same as it did before...yet somehow so different. This room is the most different. Ma liked everything decorated. Her workshop had that horrific flowered wallpaper that looked like something out of the forties.” You smiled. “I hated that wallpaper. Now it’s all gone.” Vincent didn’t respond. “Are you pissed at me?” You asked him and he looked for his shoulder towards you. You knew you wouldn’t receive an answer but a hint would have been nice.

After a moment Vincent shook his head and turned around. Vincent had always been the more understanding one, even if you knew he was keeping a lot of his thoughts to himself. That was just Vincent. He didn’t want to argue. Ever. You thought it best to change the subject. “Do you remember when we used to have sleep overs?” You asked. “The living room looked huge back then. You, me and Bo would sleep on the living room floor and Lester would beg ma to let him join. He was so excited when Ma finally thought him old enough to join in.” You smiled as you smiled down at Jonesy and scratched the back of her ear. Vincent silently nodded as he cleaned his carving tools of the solidifying wax. “I was looking at it earlier. I found some of your old statues. Even after all of this time, they’re still so cool.” You said as you lifted your gaze. “So you guys have been keeping this place going? You’ve definitely added to it, Vince.” He nodded in reply before turning to look at you. "Ma would be proud to know one of us carried on her work. I think she'd be glad it was you. The artist of the kids." You smiled at him. Vincent looked at you with the mention of his mother and nodded slightly, a small nod of appreciation. "You certainly did her talents justice along with your own." Vincent pointed at you. "Me? What about me?" You asked. Vincent looked for a scrap piece of paper and a pencil. 'What have you been doing?' You stood up and peaked over his shoulder. "Oh. There's really not much to tell, Vince. I got clean. I was working a few jobs to rent a place. Keep me off the streets, you know?" Vincent began writing again. 'How long have you been sober?' "Two years." You replied. "Two years and nine months, if you want specifics." 'Ma and Pa would have been happy with that. I'm proud of you.' You cracked a smile at Vince. "I don't think they'd think very much of it, not to me anyway but...it means a lot that you're proud of me, my big brother." You smiled fondly. Vincent stared at you through his mask for a moment before he turned to the paper again. 'Have you been alone all this time?' You nodded with a small shrug. "It's not so bad after a while. You get used to it." Vincent shook his head before quickly writing again. ‘You shouldn't have to get used to it.’ "Really Vince, it's fine. I made my choices and got the consequences. I'm only sorry that I wasn't around for the rest of our childhood and I'm sorry that it took me so long to get clean." You said softly.

Vincent lifted his arms slightly in question. Silently asking permission to hug you. "Oh boy, the hugging." You sighed with a smile. "Sure but it's our secret. Lester finds out you’ve had two and he'll whine for the next twenty years." You hummed in amusement as Vincent pulled you slowly into him by your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him. The hug made you realise how much you had missed Vincent's hugs. Now that he was closer, you could hear the slightly wheeze and whistles of him breathing through his mouth. To your surprise you heard a tiny croak. "Stay." You felt the vibrations on your shoulder. You hadn't heard Vincent's voice in years and it was enough to bring a lump to your throat. "I don't know if it's that easy, Vince." You replied quietly and you felt him squeeze you slightly.

You were taking a moment of quiet in the night as you thought over your interaction with Vincent and how much you had missed him. It was interrupted by the door behind you being kicked open and Jonesy rushing past you. "Don't run off girl!" Lester called out to the dog who began sniffing the grass. You looked behind you to see Lester meet your gaze with a grin. "You not cold out here?" "This? Cold?" You scoffed. "Hardly. Isn't it past your bedtime?" You teased. "Maybe...at least fifteen years ago." Lester replied and the two of you chuckled. "So what do you think of the place, hm?" Lester sat beside you. "Some of it really hasn't changed much. Ma's workshop was completely different. I...haven't really looked at my old room though." You admitted. "Can't bring myself to look. Bad memories." "It ain't all that bad. We got good ol' Jonsey now too. She certainly livens up the place when she wants to." You turned to Lester. "You know what our childhood was like..." You looked at Lester. "It was shit." "I could imagine worse...i’d say we turned out jus' fine." Lester shrugged. "Lester, our brothers are killing people and turning them into wax figures in our ma’s honour and literally own nothing but a town of wax." You deadpanned. Lester shrugged again. "Don't explain why you left though." "We've been through this." You sighed. "Not when they kicked you out. When you never came back and didn't so much as call. They reported you missin' and everythin'." Lester pressed. "I dunno." You answered quietly. "I saw my way out and just...took it." You turned your gaze to Lester. "Do you remember what I was like with school?" "Hell yeah. That was a shit show. Pa and Ma was always on your ass." "Yeah, he thought I was lazy and a brat." You responded. "It took me moving to the big city to discover that it wasn't me being difficult. I have Dyslexia. How could our parents never have thought about that? I cried for hours because I couldn't understand math questions that were under my age level. How I was also getting through things so slow no matter how hard I tried." You nodded behind you towards the door. "Bo clearly has problems. He always did and our parents were shit at dealing with it." "So you left because of the ol' folks eh?" Lester asked. "I left because I couldn't handle the pressure anymore. I wasn't on the drugs for fun. I was on the drugs because they kept me awake so I could keep up with you guys." You huffed slightly. After a moment of silence as you sucked your teeth. You spoke. "Bo was the problem child, I was the child that screwed everything up, Vin was the golden child and you..." You paused. "...you were almost invisible, Les." You had thought it for years, remembered it for as long as you could remember but saying it out loud brought an icy chill within you. You didn't want it to be said. Now that you had said it, you wished you'd have taken that to the grave. Yet Lester remained unbothered by the statement, his expression somewhat content with it. "I still had you, Vince and Bo. Although I lost you that night Pa kicked you out. I think we all lost you." You didn't respond, instead lowering your head. Then Lester nudged you. "C'mon, let's get back inside and watch some TV whilst Bo ain't around to be up our asses about it." You cracked a small smile. "Sure. What are we watchin'?" You asked as Lester called for Jonesy. She wasted no time running back inside.

Snooping is a very bad habit and something most parents taught their children to never ever do. Bo's parents were no different in this. However they snooped to find your drugs all those years ago and if he were to believe a single word you said about being clean, he'd have no issue doing the same. He unzipped your bag and began to search.

You lashed out in rage against your parents when you recognised the drugs were gone and you did the only thing that made sense in that time. Rationale was long gone with your sobriety. You destroyed your mother's workspace and left nothing untouched.

It felt good to destroy every little bit of what had your mother's attention and heart. It felt good knowing it would hurt her like she had hurt you. However that feeling didn't stay as well as your high. Soon your body would have been itching for that high once more. Until then, you'd have to face the consequences of your actions and that same good feeling you had was long gone having since turned into a pit in your stomach.

"What have you done...?" Your mother put a hand to her chest. Hours upon hours of work in ruins beyond repair. "What have you done!?" She demanded louder this time through clenched teeth, this time almost in pain. Her heart ached for the loss of her work. In the midst of your tears you pleaded with her. "You're gonna forgive me, ma!? Please, you're gonna forgive me though!?" She didn't answer you as she held back tears of sheer heartbreak. It was that night that your father kicked you out. Your mother too upset to do much else than watch.

You found Bo leaning on the frame of the porch, smoking a cigarette, later into the night, his back to you. He did nothing to imply he knew you were there but given the state of your belongings, that didn't really matter. “Satisfied?” Bo turned at the sound of your tired question. He simply looked at you and you continued. “What? You think i don’t know when you ransack my stuff? A kind of art our family never perfected, leaving things undisturbed. Sure you put it back but it’s a mess.” “I had to be sure who came back here tonight. My younger sibling or the addict who looks like them.” Bo brought his cigarette to his lips. “I get it Bo, really I do. Given the shit i’ve done, it’s not out from the imagination.” You replied as you moved to stand beside him. "You got bigger things to explain anyway." Bo said somewhat coldly. You stayed quiet as he continued. "Ma's funeral. You weren't there. Weren't at Pa's either." "I wasn't ready." You said. "Bullshit! Ma wanted you home for years and you didn't so much as call." "They kicked me out and I was an addict. Don't kick out your kids and expect them to come running back to you. I couldn't trust them anymore." "Because they threw out your drugs?" Bo asked incredulously. "Because they threw me out!" You retorted. "Anything could have happened to me from the moment I was out that door and they fucking knew it! Not that it was much worse anyway. Our parents actually did a good job preparing me for the violence. Even you couldn't disagree with that." "For believing in discipline?" Bo retorted. "Bo..." You said quietly. "...they hurt you." "They have my respect for that now as a man." He retorted. "It's not right and it's not okay. You were a child and they hurt you. They hurt me." You said. "You and I were the problem kids remember? I wasn't good enough in school and you couldn't behave. You got scars and I got a drug problem." Bo was quiet for a moment. "So that's why you used? Because they were tough on you for school?" "I have Dyslexia. It impacts my ability to learn. I wasn't a bad kid. I wasn't stupid. If our parents paid attention they'd have had a clue, maybe even help you." "You can't-" You cut Bo off before he could finish. "Dad was a fucking doctor, Bo. If he paid attention to his kids, he'd notice that he had two kids that needed help. Instead he and ma tied you down to a fucking highchair and taped you to it. You bled, Bo. You still have the scars." You paused with a frustrated sigh. "No I didn't go to the funeral. Maybe I should have been there for you. I get that. Even you can understand that if I felt my absence punished them, they deserved it. I was hurting long before they kicked me out. That night was when they lost me for good and I was left on my own. I got out of that, without them." "Then why did you come back?" Bo asked. "Can't choose your family Bo...but I can choose to have you in my life. I get it if you don't but I'd like to know my brothers again." "Even knowing what we do?" He asked. You sighed. "Doesn't being a Sinclair mean to never have a normal life?" Bo chuckled. "Kinda does doesn't it?" You couldn't help but smile. "If you're staying..." Bo began. "you're staying. You're not welcome to come and go as you please." "I don't need to go away anymore." You said softly. "I figured everything out. All that was left to do was to come home."

#House of Wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #reader #one shot #oneshot #Slashers #slasher movies #warning

76 notes · View notes

purplesimmer455 · 7 months

Text

Emily ran into her friend/classmate/crush Kiran outside. Kiran was wearing a blue and purple sari and had their hair down.

Emily: (blinking) Kiran hey, what are you doing here? And is that a sari?

Kiran: Yup. And I’m here for my cousin Aditi’s wedding. They’re having the reception at her house.

Emily: Oh okay, you look nice. It’s a good difference from your jeans and a sweatshirt or t shirt. Not that you don’t look nice in that too because you do. (Emily blushes).

Kiran: (smiling) Thanks, it’s my mom’s sari and it looked so pretty and matches with my hair a bit, so I asked her if I could wear it. (Grinning) I also wore her makeup and my contacts just to feel extra fancy for the event.

Emily felt shy seeing Kiran look so pretty, but asked them if they wanted to come over to the house. “My great-grandma won’t mind.” She added. “Sure.” Kiran said. “Let me just go to Aditi’s house, it’s like two houses over from here, and change and I’ll be right back.” Emily nodded. Kiran came back fifteen minutes later wearing jeans and a Flaming Llamas jersey and their glasses back on and their hair in a half bun. Kiran looks nice like this too Emily thought automatically, and then tried to shush her brain from any more comments.

Emily sat with Kiran in the backyard. “I like your mehndi too.” She said, smiling. “Thanks.” Kiran said. “My auntie did it for me and my brother. Did you ever get it done?” Emily grinned. “One time, for my mom's friend Iman's shaadi. My older siblings took me and my cousins to their mehndi artist and I felt so fancy.” Kiran smiled. “I bet you looked so pretty, Em. Also, Safiya and Amir right? I think you told me that their amma used to be married to your mom.” Emily nodded, trying not to blush too much at Kiran's compliment. “Yeah, they had Saf and Amir and then mom had me with my mama Tess, and their amma Amira has Anjali and Mariela with her husband.” Kiran’s eyes widened. “Mariela told me you were like a sister to her, but I didn’t think she meant a half sister once removed or is it step half-” They cut themselves off, furrowing their brows and Emily smiled. “I know, it’s confusing as heck for me too, I just consider them as like my half-ish sisters.” She said. “Plus, Anjali’s like a fun older sister who let's me in on her pranks, and Mariela and I have been friends since my mom used to take me to their house to see Saf and Amir, she’s like having a twin sister and she’s sweet and funny. Plus, Amira and Emilio are nice, they’re always asking me about school and soccer and my moms and how I'm doing.” She rambled. Kiran smiled. "That's so nice, Em." They said.

Emily and Kiran continued talking, and Emily told them about Piper and Cam too. "I love Pie, but she and Cam are so cheesy together." Emily said, smiling. "But Cam's cool, you'd like her. She likes that band I told you about, the Chained Llamas, and she has short choppy hair and she's so cute and she has this way of focusing just on you when you talk and her eyes are this pretty warm brown." Emily admitted in a rush. "I mean I know she doesn't like me like that and sees me as a baby cousin, and she's way older, like 17 but my brain is putting me in crush mode." She added. Kiran nodded, although Emily thought she saw their eyes darken a bit. So, Kiran is crushing on Emily too, but their parents are also like you can't date til you're 14 and we meet the sim. It did make Kiran a little jealous to hear about Emily's crush on another sim.

Random mildly embarrassing backstory: Just like Emily, when I was 12 I was crushing on a 16/17 year old girl in my school (we were 6th grade to 12th grade). I remember she would make a playful remark about me being a bookworm when she'd see me in the main office reading a book and in my 12 year old brain I was like “😱😍 OMG, it's like our thing!” and that she noticed me and now I feel sheepish because duh she didn't like me that way but at that age you're all like in crush mode and just happy that your crush acknowledged you in some way. 😅 I based Emily's crush on Cam from that memory.

#ts4 #mysims #Kiran Oberoi #Emily Liao-Feldman

6 notes · View notes

pickledpascal · 1 year

Text

The Missing Link

Chapter Four: Hindenburg

Warnings: Panic attack, Miles Bron is closeted (?), some swearing.

Word Count: 7.4k

The Missing Link Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Out of all the people Detective Blanc expected to arrive at the dock earlier that day, Ezra Wayne and his daughter were not one of them. Birdie Jay, why wouldn't he? She was the problematic fashionista who was clinging onto relevancy by trying to come up with something new and revolutionary every few years. Duke Cody was a men's rights activist, pleading for his audience to trust everything he said. And they did, not thinking to make at least one Google search to check if he was telling the truth or not. Claire Debella and Lionel Toussaint were similar in that much of their money to do their work was provided by Miles, in turn they'd basically support everything he did.

Ezra Wayne was the outlier.

Why would he come all the way to Greece to meet an old friend who he was very vocal about not liking anymore? He didn't owe anything to Miles as far as Blanc knew. Ezra started his acting career from nothing. No help or reassurance was given to him by any of his past friends.

He knew this because of some of the interviews he'd seen. It was safe to say Benoit was a fan. Who wouldn't think the tall, dark, and handsome man wasn't the best looking in all of Hollywood anyway? He was also a great actor too, starring in anything from a silly rom com to the scariest of horror movies. Blanc liked versatility in his men.

Seeing Ezra in person was certainly something. His gray's were much more prominent than in the movies, showing his age. Maybe he hadn't gotten around to re-dyeing it yet. Then there was the part where Birdie deadnamed him. Ezra didn't seem that bothered, just annoyed.

When he got his chance, Blanc smiled kindly as Ezra turned to him. "I must say, I absolutely love your films! I've seen almost all of 'em, you're amazin' in every single one." He was nervous but he needed to get that out as he looked Ezra up and down. It felt like he was a teenager again, talking to the most attractive boy at school. Ezra always looked absolutely beautiful on screen but it didn't compare to seeing him in real life.

Once on the boat, Benoit wanted to get an inkling to each person's personality. It just so happened that he was walking into the boat to talk with Lionel when Elle waved him over. It was hard to say no, especially with such a beautiful man in the room. But nerves, they were never something Benoit got over easily. He was a relatively calm person, even after the sheer amount of dangerous cases he's been through that would send any sane person running. Who takes on the mysterious case of the death of the mystery novel writer? Apparently, Benoit Blanc does. When Benoit did get nervous, though, they didn't leave as swiftly as he would hope.

After all, meeting your celebrity crush and escaping a near death experience are two completely different things. Although, they might meet on this isolated island.

Conversation with the father-daughter duo was certainly interesting and insinuated something Benoit wasn’t sure he wanted to admit. As much as he wanted to focus on the matter at hand, it was hard with someone as determined as Elle to make both himself and Ezra a blubbering mess.

Benoit pursed his lips, he might as well use this time to try and eliminate Ezra from his suspect list. Or try to. “Y’know, Ezra, you and your daughter seem to be out of place among all these…. Eccentric personalities. For an actor, it’s strange of me to admit such a thing.” It was peculiar that Ezra was here. If he wasn’t the murderer–which would be horrible for Benoit–-then why was he here?

“I like to think it’s because I grew up poor and didn’t compromise myself or leech off of others in order to get rich and famous.” The brunette explained with a hum. Benoit nodded at Ezra and looked down at his hands.

The others happened to grow up in middle class families, besides Birdie–she was the daughter of a famous model, making her famous even before she was born. And Lionel, a little different too. He intimately worked with Miles, being employed by him for the sake of doing what he always wanted to do. Only for the sake of science of course.

—------

Now, Benoit did not know of Ezra before his transition but the actor was always open about that time, sharing photos of himself and even his deadname but Benoit didn’t think it was that difficult to call Ezra by the name he goes by now. Apparently it was very hard for Miles.

“Liz-Ezra…. You look amazing. Great, actually. I’m glad you’re here.” Miles’ eyebrows furrowed as he corrected himself. Benoit observed him as he walked the length of the glass dock. It seemed Miles was blushing a little but it didn’t look like embarrassment.

Huh, interesting…. Oh.

Oh.

Well, it’s reassuring that Benoit isn’t the only one attracted to Ezra. He glanced at Helen who stared at Miles. His main objective was to get her some answers, he needed to focus on that. If he happened to get a boyfriend out of this case, well, that would be nice. Benoit closed his eyes for a moment to get his head in the right mindset, fixing his sunglasses.

“Can we just take a second and fully inbreathiate this moment together?” Miles said with a gentle smile. Benoit pursed his lips and cocked his eyebrow, he ignored it but something inside him was saying that he needed to remember that for later.

Benoit was quiet as the tour started, mostly hanging around Helen to give her some semblance of comfort. Someone here killed her sister so he didn’t blame her if she was tense and weary of everyone, even if some of them seemed too dense to commit a murder.

“Get settled in! Change. Let’s meet up at the pool.” Miles told everyone with a happy smile. “We’ll have a chill afternoon and then the game begins!” He announced, letting everyone fiddle with the bracelets around their wrists to find their room. As expected, Miles requested Benoit come with him for a private chat.

—-------

The pool seemed to be calmer but that meant it was time for Benoit to start gathering some information, among other things. He looked around the rectangular pool, catching sight of Birdie and Claire on the pool chairs off to the side while Miles was playing a tune on the guitar. He made his way over the Miles and grabbed one of the drinks inside the cooler.

“Oh! Baby Blue!” Benoit exclaimed, a light smile on his face as he twisted the cap open and took a drink. His nose wrinkled slightly at the taste. It was like Jared Leto somehow bottled how he smelled. Benoit had never met him before but that’s what he imagined he’d smell like.

Duke took a sip of his drink, “Yeah. Miles, you remember when you almost pancaked me outside Andi’s–”

“Anderson Cooper’s birthday party? Yeah, Coop's parties are memorable.” Miles laughed with an almost nervous smile as he grabbed a bottle as well.

Benoit stood from his crouching position and looked over at Ezra and Elle. They were talking with each other. No one seemed to want to talk to them. Peculiar, with such a close-knit group like this. He made his way over to the pair and sat at the other pool chair next to Ezra. “Have you always been…. The outcast in a group like this?” He asked, careful but still blunt.

“Eh, kinda.” Ezra lowered his sunglasses so they covered his eyes, the sides of his lips were tense. “I was the only one who wanted a job in the performing arts and then I told them I was also trangender, kinda put the nail in the coffin.”

“Hmm.” Benoit nodded, catching a glimpse of the scars ever so slightly showing from underneath the half-open shirt on Ezra’s shoulders. “You look…. Great.” He said with a light smile, knowing his face must be some shade of red. He assumed crimson. It didn’t take the detective much to get him a blushing mess. It just depended on the person and if they had the means to.

Ezra let out a small laugh at the compliment. “Thanks, Detective. I could say the same for you.” Benoit bit the inside of his cheek. Was he flirting with him? Holy shit. “I mean, I would be very proud of myself if I was the most attractive detective alive.” Ezra shrugged.

Benoit let out a flattered laugh, feeling as if he was a boy again. “Some might say you’re the most attractive actor alive.” It was weak, but it was all he could come up with. It was like his brain was short-circuiting. Only for a second.

—------

After the little stunt at the pool, Helen and Benoit met in the gym as it seemed no one was using it or was going to use it in the short time they were there. Of course, that led to Benoit snooping around the compound to eventually find Duke watching Miles and Whiskey…. Doing their thing in front of a window. Honestly, though, how could Miles not see Duke. Weird.

Helen got a little closer, wanting to hear what the pair was talking about behind the glass. Benoit pursed his lips, shaking his head at her. She was good but damn if she got caught, that'd be the end of their investigation.

—------

"My mom took me to Paris when I was six years old. First time I looked at this lady, it changed my life. You know Da Vinci invented a technique for brush strokes that leave no lines?" Miles gushed over the real Mona Lisa, the one in songs and meant to be the museum of art in France. Guess not these days. "That's how you can look straight at her and her expression changes every time. Her smile's there, then it disappears. Is she happy? Is she sad? Is it something else?"

Benoit never was one to be interested in art, at least not high art like the Mona Lisa or any of Goya's paintings. He appreciated it, sure, just not one to dedicate his whole life to caring about them. It seemed Ezra was similar in that aspect, taking a sip from his glass with an unbothered look in his eyes.

Helen kept staring at the painting, nodding. "It really is something." Benoit glanced up at the painting before he looked back at Miles.

Claire looked from Miles to the painting and narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute, Miles. Why do you have the Mona Lisa in your living room?" Her tone was pointed, like she knew something the rest didn't. Or, that Claire knew Miles was gonna do something she didn't like.

Miles let out a breath, a cocky smile appearing on his lips. "In one week, I've invited world leaders and members of the press from all over to unveil the future." He said as he grabbed a crystal-like object from his pocket and showed it to everyone in the room. Most looked confused…. But Claire and Lionel…. "You know what this is?"

"You know damn well we do." Lionel gritted out, tapping at the lip of his glass. "What's going on, Miles?"

Benoit raised his hand, letting out a strained laugh. "Uh, I don't." It seemed, neither did Ezra or his daughter who's attention was peaked at the crystallic object. They seemed to have felt the rise of tension in the room.

"Don't drop it." Miles threw it at Benoit who caught it with ease.

But Claire, she was concerned. "Oh my god!" Perhaps something would have happened if the little crystal touched the floor. They were all in trouble, then.

Benoit looked at the crystal between his fingers, carefully staring at the grooves and small bubbles that seemed to be trapped inside.

"That's a new solid hydrogen fuel. It's incredibly powerful." Miles explained, "It's radically efficient. Zero carbon emissions, and it's derived from abundant seawater. I call it Klear, with a K." Because of course he did. "And at this event, we are going to announce 'Klear America.' Our affordable home power solution. Klear is going to be powering people's dreams, all over this country, by the end of this year."

Ezra shook his head, he may not have been a chemist or anything that had to do with the sciences but the looks Claire and Lionel had on their faces weren't hard to read. They were concerned, devastated even.

Lionel slammed his glass down on one of the podiums, causing the glass on the Mona Lisa to lift back up. It was protecting itself, from what? It didn't know just yet. "No. No. Because I was clear with you. I told you I need two years minimum to test this stuff to see if it's safe or even viable. Claire and I are not gonna be responsible for putting something out in the world before it is tested. And–" He paused once Miles pointed up at the air around them.

"Shit." Ezra breathed. So much for being safe on this summer vacation. They were walking around in a ticking time bomb….

"Oh, no." Lionel realized as well, stepping back from Miles.

Miles nodded with a smirk, "Oh, yeah."

Benoit's eyebrows furrowed as he looked back at the small crystal in his hand. "You're running this entire place off this?"

"The whole Glass Onion is powered by Klear." Miles let out a light laugh. He was giddy, his dreamlike fuel was working. As far as he knew. "Come on, let's…. Let's eat!"

It was clear that both Lionel and Claire weren't sure they could trust Miles anymore. He was being reckless. More reckless than he usually was. Elle narrowed her eyes at Miles before she looked at Ezra who let out a light breath. Maybe they could get through this night and leave as soon as possible in the morning. Ezra didn't want to stay too much longer if the whole island was dangerous and he also didn't want to feel responsible if something were to happen to his daughter.

This was a huge mistake.

—----

Dinner was short-lived, Benoit solved Miles' "mystery" in just a few short seconds and Ezra had to refrain from the urge to laugh once he saw his defeated face. The pair went upstairs, leaving Ezra and Elle with everyone else who deemed it was time to get royally hammered after their weekend was ruined.

Duke's notifications went off, causing the glass vault to go back up. "You know, you could just power it down." Lionel suggested to Duke.

"Ah, it's my Google Alerts. Got them for all you guys." Duke explained, taking a sip from his glass. "Whiskey, sports I like, general interests."

Ezra rubbed Elle's back while she leaned on him. She was tired even though it was only 8:30 but he couldn't blame her. The whole day was filled with…. things out of the ordinary. Plus she found another father figure and half her time was spent getting him and Ezra together. Well, Elle's work seemed to be done. They may never see each other again after Ezra leaves tomorrow. It was sad, thinking about the future and the fact that each time Elle would look at a magazine with Benoit's solved cases on the front cover, she would ache for something that could have been.

Lionel was unimpressed as Duke's phone rang yet again. "You have a Google Alert for the word 'movie?'"

"I like movies!" Duke defended. "Don't hate. Nerd." Says the guy who started off on Twitch as a gamer.

Ezra took a sip of his drink, looked at the red table in front of him. His eyes glazed over as he thought about what may happen after this. He'd be glad to go home, back to his normal life. Which was weird to think that being an actor everyone sought over was normal. But it was for him. Though, Elle knew differently. He longed for someone to be with, and if that someone just so happened to be Benoit Blanc…. Well, wouldn't that be nice?

Birdie let out a relieved sigh as she sat down on the couch, "Thank God for Benoit Blanc. We don't have to spend the weekend spelling hedges." She sipped her drink through her straw.

"Well, I'm outta her. Tomorrow morning. Gone." Duke stated, waving his hand.

Whiskey shook her head, "We just got here." She was on the floor. Ezra wasn't sure why or how she got there and he didn't really care either.

Duke mockingly whined like a baby. Elle's gaze hardened at him, she could treat Whiskey much better than him. If only she could let him go and leave him, Duke didn't deserve her. Not to mention, Duke was at least twenty years older than Whiskey. "You can stay. Have fun."

"Fine. You're murdering my vibe." Whiskey grabbed the bottle of tequila next to her and stood up, walking outside.

Birdie whined, "No! Miserable in paradise. We've all earned this."

Andi walked towards the group, "Yes, you have." She seemed more tense than before. Perhaps she was gonna blow up again.

Ezra helped Elle stand from her place on the couch and retreated outside with her by his side. He didn't want to hear whatever argument that was going to happen. It would have been entertaining but Ezra's brain was close to shutting off. And if Elle was anything like her father, he knew it was the same for her.

Soon, Andi was leaving too. She stopped to say a few words to Whiskey then made her way to Ezra.

"You-you are the only good one. And I don't blame you for leaving all those years ago." She said before running off.

Ezra cocked his head somewhat confused while Elle looked off into the distance, admiring how the moonlight danced with the water. Whatever happened in there, must've been enough to set her off. Not that Ezra blamed Andi at all. After everything that's happened between her and Miles and suddenly she's cut out of the company. Ezra didn't know many details about why but he assumed it was because of something big….

His eyes widened, shaking his head a little. He was being dumb. It was because of that Klear stuff, wasn't it? Andi knew it was dangerous and didn't want Miles to be distributing across the entire country. No wonder….

—-----

Well, they certainly picked the wrong time to make their way back inside. Duke looked as if he was choking, falling down on one of the coffee tables until his harbored breaths were silenced. He died. Right in front of their eyes. Ezra immediately shielded Elle's eyes, holding her tight to his chest while Benoit inspected his body.

"I'm afraid Mr. Cody is…. Is dead." Benoit said as he looked up at Claire. There was a certain sense of bewilderment in his eyes. He's seen plenty of deaths before, it was a part of his job, but none quite like Duke's.

Birdie started to scream while Whiskey cried, "No, Duke! No!"

The rest of the conversation seemed to buzz in Ezra's ears. Someone killed Duke. That much was obvious. The question was who? And, well, there were only a select few on the island.

"Fuck." Ezra cursed under his breath, loosening his grip on Elle. "We have to get the fuck out of here." He ran a hand through his hair.

Sure, Claire could see the headlines but Ezra could see them too. He was an actor, a transgender one at that so criticism was something he was used to. But this…. This would be a whole new level. Ezra hated red-pill "truthers," so being on an island with one who just so happened to die would automatically blacklist him. Progressives in Hollywood wouldn't cast him anymore and the conservatives didn't cast him at all because he was trans.

"My dear, hey, you're gonna be alright." Benoit told Elle softly, wrapping his arms around her for a moment while she sniffled softly.

Even if Duke was an asshole and a bitch, witnessing his death wasn't something Elle was particularly fond of. Sure, he might have deserved it with the harm he caused on little boys minds but…. This…. This was different. It would haunt Elle for the rest of her life, she was sure.

"Boat can't come till low tide in the morning. Six am at the earliest." Lionel announced as he walked back.

Benoit patted Elle's shoulder for a moment before he looked at Lionel. "Do they understand the situation?" He asked with a frown.

"There is no other landing point, and Miles' dumbass Banksy dock was set to low-tide height and it isn't buoyant. It is a piece of shit." Lionel explained, tone very reasonably pointed at the man who decided to have said dock.

Ezra wrapped a blanket around Elle's shoulders, knowing that sometimes she needed the weight to feel normal again. This certainly wouldn't help all the things going on inside her brain. And, holy shit, was Miles saying someone was trying to kill him and not Duke? Well, then they royally fucked up. Poison in the person's drink was rather cliché wasn't it? And clumsy because shit like this could happen. You could mix up the drinks and accidentally have given it to the wrong person.

Hm, maybe Ezra could be the new Harlan Thrombey…. Without all the parts of suicide and…. Well, Benoit Blanc appeared in Ezra's life too. Maybe that was a sign.

"Forget about his phone. Look." Lionel pointed at Duke's holster…. Which was missing the gun. The gun that Duke was famous for always keeping with him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…." Ezra ran a hand through his hair, squeezing Elle's shoulder to comfort her. Now someone was roaming around the island with a goddamned gun. So much for a little light hearted fun.

Elle shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I can't believe this is happening." Her lungs were screaming for air, her esophagus closing up. "D-Dad…." She said weakly. She could feel her heartbeat going faster and faster. She couldn't breathe.

She was having a panic attack.

Ezra's eyes widened. He knew these signs. He didn't care about what was happening behind him, he needed to focus on his daughter. "I'm right here, Elle, c'mon look at me, okay?" He tilted Elle's head towards him as he wrapped his arms around her. "Take a few big breaths, honey. I'm here for you, whatever you need, okay?" Ezra squeezed her tight, not missing the concerned look Benoit had for her. But it was like he knew Ezra would help her through it.

"Blanc, you have to help me. Help me! Help me!" Miles yelled right before Benoit slapped him across the face.

Benoit shouted, "What happens at ten o'clock!"

As soon as those words left his mouth, all the lights powered down. They were showered in darkness, the only light that didn't turn off was the lighthouse just outside. It rotated, causing only a sliver of light to run through the house.

Against Benoit's wishes, no one stayed in the living room. Well, besides Elle and Ezra. Weirdly, the light seemed to help Elle out of her panic attack. Her heart was still beating fast but she could breathe again which helped marginally.

"Alright, that's good, sweetheart." Ezra said calmly, cupping her cheek softly as he wrapped a blanket around her. "I'll grab you some water, okay. Stay here." Turning on the flashlight from his phone, he found his way to the kitchen and grabbed a glass to fill it with water. Once he was back in the living room, Elle took it gratefully and downed it. Her throat was feeling better, less dry than before. "There we go." Ezra kissed the top of her head. "I love you, kiddo."

Elle buried her face in Ezra's chest, letting a few tears flow. "I love you too, Dad. So much."

—-----

"Who?" Claire asked, that's the thing all of them were thinking but it seemed only Benoit had the answers.

Benoit, looking off to the side for a moment, smacked his lips. "Well, I keep returning, in my mind, to the Glass Onion." Ezra cocked an eyebrow at him. He's heard of the weird ways Benoit had explained the truth of a case but…. What did the Glass Onion have to do with any of this? "Something that seems densely layered, mysterious and inscrutable. But in fact, the center is in plain sight. And that is why this case has confounded me like no other." Benoit gently rubbed Elle's arm before walking the length of the living room.

"Why, every complex layer peeled back has revealed another layer and another layer and come to naught." Benoit looked around at the room, at the different people standing in front of him as his eyes narrowed momentarily. "And that was the problem, right there. You see, I expected complexity. I expected intelligence. I expected a puzzle, a game." Where was he going with this? Ezra kept Elle close, not knowing if they were in a room with a murderer or not. "But that's not what any of this is. It hides. Not behind complexity, but behind mind-numbing obvious clarity. Truth is, it doesn't hide at all."

Ezra looked around the room. Who would be the most obvious choice to murder both Andi and Duke? He could think of many reasons why all of them would want to kill Andi but Duke? He was dumb, he had no ill intentions. At least, not to them. To the greater public? Probably.

"I was staring right at it." Benoit sighed, feeling somewhat dumb for not assuming it at first. "The killer nearly struck my Achilles' heel. But thank high heaven, at the last moment, I realized what had teased my brain through this entire case… "inbreathiate." It's not a word." Benoit shook his head, glancing at Ezra for a moment.

It seemed obvious he would start to catch on out of all of them. Not to say that Whiskey wasn't smart or the rest weren't but they all believed Miles and how "smart" he portrays himself to be. Ezra, on the other hand, does not.

Lionel shook his head for a second, not getting how this related to anything. "What?"

"'Inbreathiate.'" Ezra repeated. "It's not a real word, it just sounds like one but it's…. Made up. Like something a kid would say to sound smart." He explained, blinking a little as the pieces started to fall into place.

"Precisely." Benoit nodded, "And "reclamation," that is a word. But it's the wrong word." His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, sighing. "This entire day… A veritable minefield of malapropisms and factual errors." Now, Ezra would be lying if he said he knew any of the words Benoit used in that single sentence but he was sure the detective was using them correctly. After all, Benoit had this way of speaking that felt like he would be more at home in the 40s or 50s if he should ever set foot in that time period.

Benoit turned and pointed out the window. "That is the Aegean Sea." Right…. Miles said the Ionian Sea. But if what Benoit was starting to say was true then… It was Miles all along. But he couldn't, right? Miles was too dumb to pull off a murder.

"Oh, yeah. It is, it is." Claire said, not understanding what Benoit was trying to explain.

"His dick doesn't float. His wonder-fuel is a disaster. His grasp of disruption theory is remedial at best." Aw, and just when Ezra was going to turn to the dark side. Yeah…. No. "He didn't design the puzzle boxes. He didn't write the mystery. Et voilà. It all adds up. The key to this entire case. And it was staring at me right in the face." Benoit then clarified, clicking his tongue as turned back the group. "Like everyone in the world, I assumed Miles Bron was a complicated genius."

Ezra chuckled, shaking his head. "First mistake, Detective." He shrugged. Miles couldn't come up with his own idea if it saved a million lives.

Ezra knew that and he warned Andi against partnering with Miles… but she didn't listen. And that's why he left. Sure, the transphobia was part of it but he couldn't bear to watch Andi throw away all her ideas and let Miles get all the credit. Alpha was hers, never Miles'. He just so happened to run into Andi and she took him along for the ride.

Benoit glanced at Ezra, a slightly amused look in his eye. "Look into the clear center of this Glass Onion… Miles Bron is an idiot."

Whiskey covered her lips, a little shocked Benoit would say such a thing. Miles' jaw tensed, "Oh, please." He grumbled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. "Just tell us who tried to kill me."

"No one tried to kill you, you vainglorious buffoon." Benoit countered, shoving his hands in his pockets. If Miles was the murderer, Benoit certainly did not seem scared when he insulted him to his face.

Miles exclaimed, growing frustrated and not in the way that would make him seem innocent. "Duke took my glass!" He wouldn't make a great actor, Ezra could see all his tells easily.

Keeping his composure, Benoit looked at Miles unpressed. "That's what you told us he did. He must've picked it up by mistake, you told us, right after it happened." Ezra cocked his head slightly as he started to remember. It was right in front of them. Miles couldn't be that dumb? To attempt murder right before their eyes. "Ignore his lies, everyone, and think clearly now! What did we all actually see?"

"Y-You handed Duke your own glass. In front of us! And you lied. Made us think you didn't." Ezra said, letting go of Elle once it seemed she was alright. "I must admit I'm not sad that he's dead but…. You traumatized my kid for life.

"Blanc, Ezra… you're telling us Miles killed Duke?" Lionel asked in disbelief.

Benoit nodded, "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because the night Andi sent you all the emails, when Duke got to Andi's house early on his motorcycle he saw Miles leaving. Was almost struck by him." Benoit explained, Ezra wasn't following this time. What email? "In fact, he told all of us. Right in the open, he told us. That night, at Andi's."

Claire nodded, rubbing her chin slightly. "That night…. Duke told us he almost got in an accident. He… pancaked?" She realized.

"Okay yeah, but Miles had been living in Greece the past six months." Lionel said. He couldn't accept the fact Miles would kill one of their closest friends. Even if Duke was…. Duke.

Benoit let out a light huff, a laugh almost. "No." It was clipped. "Whiskey." He made his way over to her. This piqued Elle's interest, what did all this have to do with her? "Miles saw you on your birthday in New York. Gave you that necklace for your birthday. You're a Taurus." He whispered.

"I am." Whiskey said in a light whisper as well before she realized, "Two weeks ago. May 9th."

Benoit shrugged as Peg ran back into the room. "Forget the hydrofuels, and the sweatshops, and the consensual cuckolding for cable news assignments." Cuckold? God, that had to be the first time he's ever said that for a case. It made Ezra snort out a laugh.

"Sorry what?" Peg asked, face clear with confusion.

"And focus! On the envelope." Benoit motioned with his hand to a staircase.

Everyone's heads turned at the staircase to reveal Andi descending from the steps. Birdie let out a shriek, while Claire yelled a few curses. Ezra, on the other hand, was utterly confused.

"Andi?" Lionel asked, appalled.

Ezra looked from Andi to Benoit, "What the fuck is going on?" She was dead not more than two minutes ago when he thought she was dead, the grief was just starting to set in until she came back.

"Who did the envelope threaten?" Benoit didn't expect Ezra to know, maybe he should have explained but it's not like Whiskey really would have known either. "Miles Bron." Almost as if Miles' mom just died in a house fire, his expression became sour and hardened. "That night, Lionel faxed Andi's email to Miles who received it in New York. The one thing that could destroy his empire of lies, the truth in the hands of the only person unafraid to tell it. So Miles drives his Baby Blue Porsche to the scene of the crime, and Andi let's him in." Benoit cocked his head at Miles, eyes narrowed.

Benoit never had any remorse unveiling the truth, especially with cases with such…. Shitheads. "Of course she did. Miles' machine of lawyers and power could destroy her through sheer dumb force. But Miles himself? Oh, she was clever enough not to fear Miles." If this was going where Ezra thought this was going… then who was the woman that looked exactly like Andi? "But she didn't see the real threat, the obvious threat until it was too late. Duke alone knew you were there that night, but he didn't know Andi was dead."

Ezra ran a hand down his forehead. Wait… Andi had mentioned she had a sister to him, maybe a few times just when families were brought up in conversation. She didn't happen to say her sister was twin but… What else could this be? The actor looked up at the "imposter"—if he could really call her that–and realized. That had to be Helen.

"No, no, he didn't know that until this evening." Benoit continued as he pointed out, "Right here, when he got a Google Alert on his phone, which has now fallen strangely silent." He made his way around Miles and grabbed something from his pocket to reveal that Miles had Duke's phone ever since he died. Ezra was somewhat scared Benoit was feeling him up or something, thankfully it didn't seem Benoit had a kink for villains. "Which he showed to you… because you don't own a phone."

"Did you really think you could stop all of them from finding out about Andi's death? They all have phones." The blonde made her way towards the group, her southern accent was thick.

"He didn't need to hide the death, he just needed to hide that Duke has shown him the death moments before he was killed." Benoit spun the tail a little further… Well, not so much spinning, more like weaving. Putting the pieces together so they could see the finished product more clearly. "Right out in the open, Duke showed him. And told him exactly what he wanted in return for his silence. So what does Miles do?" The Detective stepped away from the man in question.

The woman followed Benoit, "Does he keep a vial of poison in his tooth or something? Is that some rich person thing?" If it was, Ezra was in trouble.

Benoit sighed, shaking his head in slight disappointment. "No, no, no, no, it's just… it's so much stupider than that. Birdie, what are the ingredients to your Cuban Breeze?" He asked.

Suddenly the attention was on her and it winded her for a moment. "Um, vodka, amaretto…."

"Oh, God." Whiskey gasped, raising her hands to her mouth as she realized.

"And… pineapple juice." Birdie finished after a little while.

Benoit strained, slightly disgusted and appalled. "An allergy!"

"He can't even have a drop."

"Pineapple juice!" The detective exclaimed in frustration. "He just put pineapple juice in his whiskey! It's so dumb." He shook his head, raising a hand to his forehead to rub at it. It teased his brain in the worst way possible.

Birdie, probably drunk, gasped in amazement. "It's so dumb, it's brilliant!"

"No! It's just dumb!" Benoit exclaimed, rubbing a hand against his forehead.

Ezra didn't need to check as he went up to her while the rest went to check their phones, reading off the first article about Cassandra Brand. "You must be Helen Brand…" He said softly.

"You know Helen?" Claire asked. It seemed none of them knew who she was, or they didn't pay much attention when Andi told them about her.

Helen glanced from Claire to Ezra. "We met once. He was in Alabama for some movie and recognized me." She explained, fiddling with the red envelope in her hands as Miles realized… The person he just tried to kill wasn't Andi at all. But an entirely different character all together.

"And now we come to Helen's attempted murder. Which, I have to give you credit for, did have a sound foundation of thought." Benoit said, earning him a glare from Ezra. The actor could see it being a bad habit already, the detective praising a criminal for their creativity just because it tested him enough. But Ezra didn't mind if that was the worst thing about Benoit. "You realized the opportunity laid out in front of you. You have a house on a remote island, filled with desperate people, all of whom have a real-life reason to wish this woman harm. You–" Benoit paused suddenly, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Miles. Something started to become abundantly clear in his mind.

Benoit continued, somewhat weary, "Furthermore, you have a loaded gun conveniently within reach. And the lights had even been turned off." He let out a heavy sigh as he brought a hand to his forehead. "Heavens to…" Ezra didn't want to laugh but the sound escaped him anyways. Benoit may have described Ransom and Harlan in an older case as "drama mamas" but he wasn't exempt from that description either. "You dim-witted, brainless… jackass!" Elle jumped a little as she wrapped the blanket tighter around her form.

"Your one murder, with any panache at all, and you stole the whole idea from me." It seemed he knew how it felt now. Andi got her ideas stolen by Miles for years, the napkin wasn't the only thing. They all knew that.

Lionel cocked his head, "And after all that, you…. You still kept the envelope? Didn't burn it or anything?" He asked. It could have been seen as a trophy of some sort but if someone–like Helen–were to discover he still had it then his empire would fall.

"You recognize this?" Helen asked, almost smug as she took the napkin out of its packaging. "Andi's handwritin'. I got you, son of a bitch." Miles almost looked scared.

Miles shook his head, "Oh, let's slow down there, sister. Okay? Because first, how could you ever prove that that's the original?" He countered. "She might have copied mine."

"No. The bar closed nine years ago, and hers has one thing that yours just doesn't." Helen pointed at something, Ezra couldn't see what since he was standing behind her. However, Ezra was prepared to jump Miles if Helen asked him to.

Miles hummed, glancing over Helen's shoulder to meet Benoit's eyes. "Okay, but second…." He clicked on his light to set the napkin aflame.

Benoit and Ezra ran over to Helen. "What the hell did he do?" Benoit exclaimed as he looked at the pile of ash that suddenly formed at Helen's feet.

"He just burned it!" Helen gasped as Benoit squatted down to see it for himself.

"Burned what? I didn't see anything." Miles shrugged.

Ezra growled, "You are acting worse than a child! And I should know, I have one." Elle pouted, shaking her head. At least Ezra raised her right. Who knows what Miles' parents were like.

"This will not stand." Benoit ground out, his jaw clenching.

Miles chuckled, "Uh-huh. Well, did you see this proof, this smoking napkin, Blanc?" He asked with a knowing smile. They had no more evidence. Nothing that could prove Andi's death. "No. Did anybody?" The group casted their gaze downward, defeated and silent. They couldn't go against Miles, he had them in his pocket. "Okay, then wow! Wow! We got some big accusations flying around here. Except, everybody seems to have a very foggy recollection of what they actually saw–"

"Well, I did see you burn something." Ezra countered.

"And there's nothing but totally circumspective evidence." Miles continued, completely ignoring Ezra like he did most of the time a decade ago. "So, if this was just us playing my murder mystery game, which we should have been doing all weekend, then Blanc wins an iPad Pro this time." He joked softly. "But this is the real world. And in the real world you need more than a neat, little detective story. You need evidence. And you've got… nothing. Do you?"

Ezra looked from Benoit to Helen. He was right. You need evidence and you need witnesses. And if Ezra was going to be the only to side with Helen then the courts would never work out in her favor. Miles had the majority here.

Benoit pursed his lips, a sad glaze rolling over his eyes. He hated losing in a game as serious as this. "He's right." He sighed, pursing his lips. "The contents of that envelope and his possession of it were our only physical evidence."

"Right." Miles pointed at him, clicking on his lighter yet again to fiddle with it. "Wanna take that to the cops? You wanna take that to the courts?" He laughed quietly, "Look, pick your poison. Anywhere you go, it's going to be your word against mine. How do you think that's gonna go?"

Benoit took his jacket from the glass pedestal he hung it from and put it on as he walked across the room, ushering Ezra with him by setting a hand on his back.

Miles shrugged, clicking his tongue slightly. "I think it's gonna go about like it went for Andi."

"Jesus." Lionel whispered under his breath, glancing at Helen. He could have been good. But no. Lionel wasn't quite there yet.

"And I do want to say, your sister was a complicated woman, but she meant the world to me." Miles pursed his lips, trying his best to sound sincere. But if it was sincere… would he have ever killed her? "And I'm so sorry for your loss."

Dejected, Helen made her way over to Benoit. "Blanc. I need you to do something." Tears started to form at the edges of her eyes, threatening to fall. After all this work and… nothing.

"I'm sorry, Helen." Benoit shook his head, eyebrows drawing together. "I gave you the truth. This is where my jurisdiction ends. I have to answer to the police, the courts, the system. There's nothing I can do." He took a quick breath as he grabbed the glass with 'Andi' written on it. "Except maybe… offer you some courage." Benoit handed Helen the glass. "And a reminder of why your sister walked away in the first place." He quickly handed her something else, Ezra could only imagine what it was.

Benoit turned away, whispering to Ezra, "I suggest you and your daughter come with me." He said. It was a very serious tone and Ezra hadn't had the time to think it through much so he followed his instructions.

Ezra grabbed Elle by her arm and walked outside, following Benoit to the docks. He wondered why Benoit was in such a hurry to leave. Or maybe… not? He didn't seem that worried.

But, well…. The entire Glass Onion blew up a few minutes later and Ezra would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the fireworks.

"Disruption." Benoit laughed as he took a drag from his cigar.

"Fuckin' A." Derol laughed as well, his joint firmly between his lips as he lounged on a chair.

Ezra ran a hand through Elle's hair while a proud smile was on his lips. Helen sure knew how to shake things up, Ezra didn't mind though. Miles deserved to have his house blown up.

10 notes · View notes