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forlix · 7 months

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𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 !・h.h.

— you’re just trying to do your job; your client has other ideas.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1.3k 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・very suggestive so mdni, reader implied to be shorter than hyunjin 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, flirting, humor, big fwb vibes

𝐚/𝐧・this took me less than half an hour to write i am actually the biggest sucker for this trope. also, we hit another milestone recently!! i appreciate all of you immensely; look forward to more ♡

[!]・hi hey hello as of one month later a full-length fic based on this au has been posted!! here it is; you can read the two in any order. ok bye much love

“Five ‘til!” A crew member calls into a walkie-talkie, and you’re so surprised by this information that you stumble right over him, your heel ungracefully ramming into the poor man’s toes.

You apologize hurriedly, bowing yourself out of the awkward situation—and then you check your watch. 7:55 P.M. A quiet "shit" leaves your lips as it dawns on you that you'd completely lost track of time.

Briefly, you contemplate your predicament, drumming the palette of makeup you’re holding in your right hand against the palm of your left: do I have to? Is it really necessary? But you know your answer even as you’re asking yourself the questions. You’re damn meticulous—sometimes to a fault, but always to your own satisfaction.

You had a vision, and you’re going to see it through.

With impeccable timing, your coworker appears out of nowhere, and you fasten a hand around her arm. “Hey, where are the members again?”

“Stage left.” Then she registers your question in full, and snaps her eyes to your face; stylists were supposed to have finished up with their respective members nearly an hour ago. “Hang on, are you out of your mind—”

“I won’t be a minute!” You call, scurrying away.

“You won’t be employed!” She returns, but you’ve already disappeared into the curtains’ dense shadows.

You jog a short distance, turn a few corners, and finally spot the eight members clad in outfits of varying amounts of silver and black, every inch of them so sparkly that they’re reflective, even with how little light reaches this part of the stage.

You’re looking for one man in particular, though, and you single him out right away: long, black locks falling into his eyes as he adjusts his microphone, broad shoulders and tall frame flattered perfectly by an obsidian suit, looking like he fell off a Paris Fashion Week runway and into a wormhole that teleported him to Osaka.

All your doing, by the way.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” You shout, and he (along with several of the other members) whips around at the sound. And Hyunjin furrows a perfect brow when his stylist materializes before him, four minutes to curtain up, wielding a palette of makeup like it’s a baseball bat.

“Are you out of your mind?” He calls.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You lift a pointer finger into the air and curl it twice. “Come here. Hurry."

Hyunjin gives the others an apologetic glance before hurrying over, and you are met with a blast of Byredo Blanche when he arrives in front of you, the expression on his face equal parts amused and confused.

“Down,” you say, flicking open the eyeshadow palette with one hand.

And then Hyunjin understands. A loud, uninhibited laugh leaves his lips, a sound you’ve become so accustomed to by now that you’re completely oblivious to the fact that only you bring it out of him.

“You really are something,” he says, spreading his feet apart until he’s brought himself to your eye level.

With that, you get to work, one hand gathering some eyeshadow on the pads of your fingers, the other moving to hold his shoulder. Brushes are luxuries you can’t afford right now.

“Close your eyes,” you direct, your voice softer now that your face is only inches away from his, and Hyunjin heeds your words obediently. You begin to dab the crimson powder against the curve of his lids, careful to avoid messing up the rest of his eye makeup. His lashes flutter involuntarily at your gentle touch.

“A shadow to match the lip,” you murmur absently. “I pictured it and knew it had to happen."

Hyunjin makes a sound of approval, and then there is that smirk on his face, the one you’ve learned only means trouble. “You’ve been thinking about my face the whole night, then?”

“No. I’ve been thinking about whether vegetables can feel pain,” you deadpan. “Yes, I've been thinking about your face. It’s my job.”

“Is that all?”

“Sure is.” You blow gently on his finished eye and move on to the other. “Now save your voice for the stage.”

He obliges, but that dreadful, self-assured expression remains on his face, and you're immeasurably grateful that he can’t see the blush that you’re well aware paints your cheeks.

“Done,” you say a minute later, straightening with a confident flourish. And you think you could squeal when Hyunjin opens his eyes, and you see that the exact effect you’d hoped for has been realized: a splash of maroon that is both subtle and seductive, sleek and suave; that not only accentuates the shape of his eyes but pulls attention to his lips, which are dyed a similar hue. Damn, you’re good at your job.

“I don’t have a mirror,” you say, looking around. “I can use my phone if you want to—”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I trust you.”

You grin at this. “Good. Because you look sexy as hell."

Upon hearing your words, he straightens to his full height. You don’t think much of this at first, too busy re-examining the masterpiece you’ve created on his eyelids, but in the blink of an eye you’re suddenly aware that Hyunjin is standing conspicuously and intentionally close to you. You instinctively move away, but you’re too late; he’s already guiding your back to the wall behind you, his body enclosing yours against the smooth surface.

You send a panicked look over Hyunjin’s shoulder, only to realize that the two of you are completely out of anyone’s line of vision. That doesn’t stop the sharp hiss that leaves your lips: “Hyunjin, are you cr—”

But then there is a familiar gust of breath against your skin, a thumb over your cheekbone.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself when you get like this; all bossy and concentrated, an ambitious glint in your eyes, an air of confidence in your gait. He always thinks it’s ironic that your job is to make him look good when all he’s ever done is admire your beauty, so effortless and profuse that it feels timeless, like freshly bloomed forget-me-nots.

He knows he shouldn’t—but that makes him want to more.

When your lips meet, they move together with an ease and familiarity that reveal how many times you’ve done this before. He brings a hand to the small of your back, and you tangle your stained fingers in his luscious hair, the delicious pressure of his mouth upon yours rendering your reluctance (and the eyeshadow palette, which clatters noisily to the floor) momentarily forgotten.

As the kiss deepens, the bridges of your noses slide together; your every sense becomes overwhelmed by the slippery plush of his full lips and the warm caress of his large hands; you drink in the rosy musk of his cologne like your cells need it to live as opposed to oxygen. The tip of Hyunjin’s tongue teases the seam of your lips, as if requesting access, and you grant it to him with a light moan that is both blissful and thoroughly exasperated. When he hears the gorgeous sound, he has half a mind to scoop you up and leave the venue then and there.

Then, a voice bellows from not too far away: “One minute, everyone! Places, places!”

You’re so startled that you not only break away from him but jump a meter into the air, giving Hyunjin’s bicep a hearty slap on your way down. But he is entirely unbothered, dipping his head to press a trail of light kisses along your jaw instead.

“You’ll be watching the performance, yes?” He murmurs against the sensitive skin.

“Of course, what else—”

“—don’t take your eyes off me.”

And the words throw your heart against your ribs like uncooked French fries in a vat of oil.

He is just about to walk away when you realize how decidedly disheveled you’ve left him, and you yank him back to you with a fresh wave of panic. You wipe at his smudged lipstick with the cuffs of your sleeves; nitpick his hair until every strand is back in its proper place. Only when you’ve gotten rid of all the incriminating evidence do you permit him to leave.

“Thank you very much,” he says, bending into a gracious bow, the perfect image of professionalism. The facade is given away only by the upturned corner of his still-flushed lips.

“Break a leg,” you return drily.

The last thing you hear is that stupid, bright laugh before Hyunjin rejoins his members, and they step into the strobe lights together.

Even when the concert begins and the stadium is drowned in fanatical screams, the heartbeat in your ears remains the loudest sound of all—and you bury your burning face in your hands.

Hwang Hyunjin will be the death of you.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

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pierregazly · 7 months

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1+ 2 = ...4? ꨄ pierre gasly smau

pierre gasly x wife!russell!reader

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of twins, george having a meltdown

in which pierre put his tripod to use and caused two major outcomes, george has a meltdown, and all the fans just want to know what's going on?

ynrussell

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, and 23,407 others

tagged pierregasly

ynrussell joyeux anniversaire mon amour. three years ago today i married the love of my life and became the official mrs. gasly, so excited to give you your present tonight 🫶🏻

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username omg babes post the present!!! let us all be jealous

username happy anniversary mom and dad

charles_leclerc 🥳💗

username feel like it was just yesterday that i was jealous out of my mind about their wedding... still jealous tho

pierregasly joyeux anniversaire ma chère, i am the luckiest man in the world

pierregasly can't wait to give your your own present tonight

pierregasly it rhymes with tierod

username TRIPOD PIERRE

username im SCREAMING send this man right to PRISON

georgerussell63 god every time i see anything to do with you two i have to bleach my bloody eyes. happy anniversary you two, im disgusted.

username poor george, him and carmen are so tame compared to these two... i love the polar opposite sibling trope

ynrussell has posted a story

liked by pierregasly, georgerussell63, and others

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pierregasly i hope the pizza was good ma chérie, and hope it satisfied the little bean's cravings

ynrussell it was delicious... but we kind of want chocolate now too :(

pierregasly ill check ubereats and see what i can do

ynrussell mine and the bean's saviour 🫶🏻

pierregasly

liked by ynrussell, charles_leclerc, alpinef1team, and 209,444 others

tagged alpinef1team

pierregasly unfortunately not the finish we would have liked, the 15 second penalty cost us significantly and i apologize to my team and all our fans for it. will come back bigger and better next time 💪 now time to go and spend some well deserved time off with my family

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username thank you for pushing through and giving us an awesome race to watch pierre!

username loved your helmet this weekend pierre!

username sad that mother ynrussell wasn't here this weekend, but happy to see her in the likes

username 'well deserved time off with my family' do we think that's alluding to something else????

username girl he's obviously talking about his wife and his family??? like what

username ummm sorry he almost always says 'my loved ones' gotta push the pregnancy rumour agenda some more

ynrussell we're all so proud of you pear 🫶🏻 the track limits and penalties are bullshit and i'll be sending a strongly worded letter to whoever costs you anything good

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, and others

pierregasly 😂😭🤍

username who is 'we're all' who is the plural that she's referring to omg

username i'm telling y'all... mother is becoming a real mother idc what any of y'all say

pierregasly has posted a story

liked by ynrussell, georgerussell63, and others

ynrussell omf make sure you get extra cheesecake... and extra elcairs, and a few brownies... maybe get a few of everything??? the bean's want them!!!!

pierregasly well if the bean's want them....

username this SCREAMS my wife is pregnant and sent me on a late night snack run omf

username tell us your secret!!!!

ynrussell

liked by pierregasly, georgerussell63, carmenmmundt, and 46,578 others

tagged pierregasly

ynrussell sorry just have to appreciate how incredibly sexy it is seeing my super sexy amazing husband with kids!!! like how lucky am i!!! can't wait til' you're holding our future babies (my ovaries are exploding, i am crying, it's going to be a long day)

view all 398 comments

username girl this seems a little feral idk

georgerussell63 this is certifiably disgusting. please grow up.

username you know who would post something like this??? a wife expecting a baby who is getting more excited about that baby seeing her husband with kids

username seems legit idk

pierregasly is this your nice way of asking me to pickup more eclairs on the way home?

ynrussell cinnamon buns too?? please?? je t'aime

pierregasly can't wait to hold our future bean's too ma chérie

username pierre as a dad is going to be so sexy, ynrussell is so right??? those babies are going to be beautiful omf

ynrussell and pierregasly

liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, georgerussell63, and 566,493 others

pierregasly october 2024 / gasly thing 1 and gasly thing 2 🐣🚼

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ynrussell omg i'm pregnant???? SURPRISE

ynrussell maman is begging for them to come sooner, her poor back.

username AH I KNEW IT. I CALLED IT. MY HEART.

username THING 1 AND THING 2 AHHHHH

username pierre is gonna be a girl dad AND a boy dad?????? we're so blessed

georgerussell63 excuse me????

georgerussell63 you knocked my sister up????

georgerussell63 i told you to stay away from her??? this is outrageous i am disgusted

pierregasly sorry, tripod's work well.

ynrussell pierre delete this comment rn, i swear to god.

georgerussell63 (i am so excited to meet my baby niece and baby nephew. uncle georgie loves you both so much)

lewishamilton congratulations! roscoe is so excited 🤍

charles_leclerc uncle cha reporting for duty 🫡 congratulations, you two.

georgerussell63 i'd like to emphasize i'm still having a meltdown from when you casually gave me a bottle of gin to announce this. gasly genes should not be casually mixed like this.

username i dont think anyone understands the joy im feeling??? im honoured to be alive to see this

username they're gonna be such amazing parents im literally ????? so excited??????

carmenmmundt has posted a story

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ynrussell thank you for the beautiful baby shower, auntie carmen already has spot number 1 🫶🏻

username omg omg omg omg

username this is SO CUTE

ynrussell has posted a story

liked by pierregasly, carmenmmundt, georgerussell63, and others

replies

username girl u look like ur about to pop (lovingly)

pierregasly my beautiful wife

ynrussell i don't feel very beautiful right now. i feel huge and tired and exhausted.

pierregasly still the most beautiful woman in the world

ynrussell

liked by pierregasly, alexandrasaintmleux, georgerussell63, and 56,439 others

ynrussell things are getting very, very real (not real enough for my back to not hurt, thing 1 and 2 you both are killing me)

view all 165 comments

username this aesthetic is so CUTE (that room is fucking beautiful i want a house tour????)

username they're literally due in like less than 2 months???? pierre is gonna be a dad that soon???? praying for u ynrussell

charles_leclerc im personally demanding compensation for the bruises i have from putting the nursery together

ynrussell shut up cha, you literally offered and begged to be involved

pierregasly yeah shut up cha

alexandrasaintmleux can't wait to see my art piece up in the bébé's room 🫶🏻

ynrussell knew i could always count on you angel

username im so invested in this pregnancy none of you even understand

username starting a poll asap on the babies names omf

ynrussell and pierregasly

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, roscoelovescoco, and 675,487 others

ynrussell 2024.10.16 / welcome to the world my precious théodore and éloïse. maman and papa love you so much.

view all 5,640 comments

username omg congratulations!!! such beautiful names.

username they share a birthday with charles im crying

lewishamilton congratulations! so beautiful, you are a rockstar ynrussell

charles_leclerc truly the best birthday present i could've asked for. ellie and théo should be so proud of their maman.

pierregasly the happiest day of my life, given to me by the most important woman in my life. thank you for blessing me.

username again i am so invested in this. i am so happy for these two, they're going to be incredible parents.

alpinef1team welcome to the family baby éloïse and baby théodore!

mercedesamg welcome to the family x2

username oh girl the racing teams are gonna FIGHT over these two just you wait

and there she is! after weeks of gasly!twin asks, i finally decided it was time to bring them to life in the realest way i could. i hope you all loved this as much as i loved writing it. thank you to everyone for all the incredible inspiration, and for continuing my obsession.

taglist

@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @princessria127 @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh @fangirl125reader @imagandom @motorsp0rt @jspitwall @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10 @carlandonorri-s @smoothopz @eugene-emt-roe @epitios @myloverjk-blog @glow-ish @goldenmclaren @mercunty @success78 @nicolereinara

if you're missing from the taglist, pls dont hesitate to send me a message!!

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #f1 x reader #pierre gasly smau #f1 smau #f1 #f1 x you #pierre gasly x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smau #smau #my writing #f1 imagine #pierre gasly imagine

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rosedom · 1 month

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Wanna make ftm Ayato squirt till I’m sure he’s rlly hydro 😔✊

"an unnamed player has invited KAMISATO AYATO to play . . . like waves against the shore (against me)

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!gn!reader, implied ftm!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!ayato, talks of HRT/testosterone, cunnilingus, squirting, brief mention of future aftercare .

A/N : ayato's def the guy that testosterone made wetter post-HRT than pre- !!

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

He's hot on your tongue, a heady, musky taste that covers your taste buds in a thick layer of what is undoubtedly Ayato.

(At first, he was embarrassed.

"I'm not quite... normal, down there," he'd said, once. He'd been curled up right into you, laying his head above the steady thrum of your heartbeat, thump thump thump.

You'd laughed, then, leaning down to kiss that curly tuft of his bangs. "Neither am I."

He had been misunderstood. He shook his head under you, saying, "Not that way," —meaning, not in the I'm a transgender male without bottom surgery way, but in the— "I meant in the lubrication way."

You'd almost spoken up, almost made another misunderstanding by saying something silly like, I know, I don't get wet either; but, thankfully, he'd bulldozed right on yet hid further into your chest.

"I get really, er—wet." The Kamisato Ayato, hesitant and stuttering.

You had found earlier on that this isn't quite the one-off event: not the, anymore, but your Kamisato Ayato; he can be shy, with you—only with you.)

Now, though?

He's still undoubtedly embarrassed, sure; but he's malleable in a way he wasn't a year ago, letting you hold his thighs open without protest. The only real hesitation he's got is in smothering you in warm, pasty thighs.

(He always says, "I don't wanna hurt you." Sometimes he tacks on a darling, maybe a beloved. More often, my husband.

And every time, you say, all sweet-like and contradictingly devilish, "You won't.

"Now crush me, sweetheart.")

"I told you before, 'Yato," you murmur, kissing at the bite you left on his inner thigh maybe minutes, perhaps hours, before. "Crush me."

He whines, shakes his head at you. "But—"

"Unless that 'but' is this sweet ass of yours—" you pause, lift him up by his hips to get leverage, lift him up enough to lean down and lick a stripe ass to taint to soaking wet cunt, "—I don't wanna hear it."

He whines, again, a garbled mess of your name that's already so wrecked, only so soon into the night. He's gone to wrapping his thighs around you, though, sinking into the bed sheets as you stick to his cunt and not his ass.

You lick and lick and lick, suckle and suck at him: the taste dribbles down your chin, and you try and catch it before it can fall to the bedsheets and seep in, make a mess of it.

(You'd much rather save the big mess for later, after all.)

"Oh—" His hips jump 'til you grab him, right where you did earlier except only tighter, tighter, keeping him right where you want him: hips pressed to the bed, cunt pressed to your mouth, your lips, tongue.

"Oh?" you repeat, leaning back enough to lick your lips and meet those periwinkle-pretty eyes, "'Oh,' what, Ayato, my dear?"

(Another interesting thing about your dear Kamisato Ayato: he is a glowerer.

Pouted, kiss-bitten lips, shimmering in his saliva and your own, the remnants of the biting kisses that you always, always smooth over with gentle movements of your tongue: the same movements, in fact, that you lave over his cunt like, broad yet soft strokes that make his legs shiver, make them begin to close around you.)

"Don't—don't play ignorant, please." He's divine, begging like this.

Smiling all soft-like and dopey, grinning up at his face and greedily taking in the flush that crawls from his chest, his neck, up to his rouged cheeks, you murmur, acquiesce, "I got you, darlin'," then you're dipping right back down to suckle the head of his cock and he's gone, throwing his head back and moaning loud, unabashed.

Tears are trickling down his face, you're sure, but you've been forced to shut your eyes, to focus entirely on the task at hand: slurping messily over his wettened cock, his dripping cunt. The sounds he makes are far away; his thighs are blotting out most noise, leaving you to hear only the heady thump thump thump of your blood coursing hot n' heavy through your arteries, your veins.

Like this, it's overwhelming. Ayato is erratically twitching even as he stays pushed to the bed, clawing at the sheets and you and everywhere he can reach.

Far-away lil' ah, ah, ah's reach your ears, and you smile and press your grin into his sloppy cunt as you keep right on making him feel good. He's still hot on your tongue, but more-so now, thick n' heady and drip-dripping down your throat.

"C'mon, sweetheart," you try to garble out, and whether or not Ayato hears you is irrelevant; what he does feel, however, is the vibrations of your voice against where he is most sensitive.

He also feels—weird. Weird in that oddly familiar way, that way he knows you can taste just from where you are. He's growing more wet, obscenely-so, his essence leaking out far too watery to be just his pre-, and he knows he's over.

He's a goner, just like that, and through his thighs, you hear: "'m gonna—I'm gonna—!!"

And then he's coming.

He's fucking coming, and he can't stop coming, and then there's a new, fainter taste of him in your mouth. It splatters against your face, your chin and cheeks, and it's thin as the hydro he wields dripping from your face.

"There you go," you murmur, petting his still-twitching legs, licking the corners of your lips as the taste lingers. "Felt good, hm? Good boy, letting yourself go like that."

He only pitifully mewls, shaking his head meakly and tugging you in for a lazy kiss, licking himself off of you. Kissing now, he is saying to you: kissing now, bath later.

So, in the end, yeah. You suppose that the wet mess of his cunt finally did meets the bed sheet.

(This will be awkward to explain to the housekeepers.)

i am sorry this took like, a month . . . i wrote this, and i decided it fit well enough with this cute inbox, so !! yeah c;

24 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#writing this while i had cheri cheri lady stuck in my head was a fever dream . . .#anyway !!#sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #dom reader #sub ayato #ayato smut #ayato x reader #trans ftm #trans smut #reader is implied to be tmasc !!#but i guess this counts as:#gn reader

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boytoyhalo · 5 months

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Can you give me your fitpac headcanons to make me feel better after whatever the fuck Bad's stream was today. I am so unwell...

absolutely i can!!! let's see here hmm

pac likes to sleep/cuddle with fit sprawled out directly on top of him, like actively crushing him, because the deep pressure makes him feel safe (i think I said this in a different post but accidentally switched the names around, tho tbh i could see this being true both ways so maybe they take turns)

pac's ring markings glow bright blue when he's flustered or startled (see my blue ringed octopus hybrid pac headcanon) fit discovered this for the first time with the "how you doin big daddy" incident and since then fit has been going out of his way to sneak up on pac to make it happen because he thinks it's cute, this is also part of why he's gotten more confident with his flirting

fit would never say it out loud (partially because it would embarass him and mostly because he knows it would embarass pac) but he actually capital l Loves it when pac says his name with the "-tch" sound at the end. he thinks about it more than he shoud probably

this is less of a headcanon and more a writing prompt or like. a scenario that i think would happen but i think that at some point they'd be goofing around and threatening each other over whose a better fighter (they both think its each other but theyre arguing for themselves. for the bit) and fit would take off his prosthetic arm to hold it in his other hand and point it at pac like a sword and pac would be all oh yeah i can do that too and try to take off his leg standing up and would of course immediately overbalance and fall and fit would rush to check if he's ok while laughing his ass off and pac would use the leg to knock his legs out from under him so they would both be on the ground laughing so hard they couldn't breathe. and then fit would make a stupid pun about pac "not having a leg to stand on in this argument"

speaking of prosthetic's pac normally likes to keep his metal leg covered but the first time fit gets a proper look at it he's like woah your prosthetic looks so cooler and sleek and high tech i wish mine was like that and pac preens because he made it himself (ok it was him and mike but thats practically the same thing) and after that pac starts wearing his right pant leg rolled up (fit is only half of the reason, the other half is that it makes richarlyson feel better about his own leg but this is a fitpac post)

they both Really Like watching each other fight, hence the dungeon dates, but their favorite part is after all the mobs are cleared when they're cleaning their weapons and sorting through loot and just sitting quietly together basking in the shared victory and adrenaline and praising and complimenting each other for a fight well done

fit is aroacespec (he can count the amount of people he's been actually attracted to on one hand) and between that and his trust-no-one 2b2t background he's pretty inexperienced with most relationship related things, so pac is a lot of firsts for him. Pac not-so-secretly loves this because he's possessive and likes that no one else gets the type of attention he does from fit

fit starts wearing his glasses more often when he's not expecting combat or some other situation that will make them too inconvenient because pac says he looks cute in them

pac likes to make fit carry him on his back because 1. he likes the contact and 2. its fun to feel tall. the first time this happens it's because pac's metal leg takes a hit during a battle and is basically useless til he can repair it, so fit carries him back to chume labs out of necessity. After that pac usually makes up an excuse or plays up any hits he take so fit will do it again, except he's really bad at lying so fit knows what he's doing but he doesn't mind so he doesn't call him out on it

pac's hair looks really soft and fit realllly wants to run his hands through it but he's way too awkward to ask because that feels like a line being crossed and whenever pac runs his own hands through it fit just stares like a total weirdo which tubbo and phil both make fun of him for but somehow even then pac doesnt seem to notice. it takes him a long ass time to mention it to pac who he then finds out really likes having his hair played with and has been wanting fit to do it for forever but has also felt too awkward to ask. and then they laugh at themselves for being dumbasses (and then when they kiss for the first time and every time after that fit's flesh hand immediately goes up to his hair)

fit mentions that when he gets overstimulated sometimes its too much effort to remember to take his hearing aids out so pac asks if he can borrow them for a little bit and gives them back to fit with a new noise cancelling feature, and fit has to stop himself from literally proposing marriage right then and there. He settles for just cleaning chume labs top to bottom and leaving some chocolate and an embarassingly sappy thank you note that would read as a straight up love confession to anyone outside of him and pac's oblivious-but-also-not-oblivious slowburn-but-not-slowburn bubble

sometimes if pac is tired but cant get to sleep he'll go find fit and ask him to just talk at him for a bit because his voice is relaxing and if he falls asleep with his head on fit's shoulder or in his lap fit will sit as still as a rock for hours to not wake him up

ok ok you got me rambling this post is way too long now and most of these can barely count as headcanons but yippeeee i hope u like them!!!! everything will be ok we will have our morning crew and fitpac content back soon i promise

#fitpac #headcanons

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appleteeth · 2 years

Text

Continuing on the post about Rhys being too stupid/oblivious/silly to be in the military, I had to transcribe this classic skit about the time he got lost inside his own camp.

Rhys: So we set up our little site, in the bush, and uh, we set up our little hootchies which are these tents. And we've got face-paint on and we can't say a word. It's tactical. The New Zealand SAS were after us, trying to find us. So it was very scary, I was only 17.

And then we did these shifts to guard the area, and mine was between 2am and 4am. And I got taken out to where the point was, through the trees, and it was dark, very dark.

The guy went away, *mimes holding a gun and shivering* and I'm sitting there til 4am, shivering my arse off.

Shit!

And then, 4am, I go back to get the next guy. I start walking back, it's only about a 5-minute walk back to where the tents were but 10 minutes later, I have no bloody idea where I am. And so...

*Miming holding a gun and looking around in a panic, voice pitched up to how he sounded at 17* Ohhh shit! ohmygoohhhhhoowhatthefuck! *high-pitched whine*

Another 5 minutes and I just panic and I just break the tactical rule.

*Miming holding a gun, shakes it up and down like a cartoon character who's angry* OhhhhhOOOooo...

Heyyyyyyyyy!!! Hey guYS!!

C'mon ImreallycoLLLLDDDD!! Guys!

*High-pitched whimpering and crying*

This is BULLSHIT. There'sNOWARON we're BEING STUPID. Wieeuuu... *more crying*

Cold...

PLEASE! Idunnoknow WHERE I AM.

*Stomping like a frustrated toddler*

I 🦶 DO 🦶 NOT 🦶 KNOW 🦶 WHERE 🦶 I 🦶 AM!

*sobs*

I'M GONNA FIRE MY GUN STUPID THING ANYWAAAYYYYYY *more sobbing*

*even more high-pitched* I'mgonnaFIREIT.

*sulking* I'm just gonna fire it I don't caaaarrreeee --WAH!! *mimes getting his foot grabbed*

Normal voice: Someone grabs my foot.

*Mimes being thrown to the ground*

Whoommppp-pomp!

I land on the ground and this big corporal lands on top of me.

BOMF.

*Now doing the voice of the corporal, much deeper but hushed voice, finger on lips* Shutthefuckupshutthe--!!!

*Back to baby-Rhys voice with his hands up in surrender* aaaHHH!! AHH-HA!!

Corporal: Jesus Christ, fucking 'ell! Darby! It's you!

Baby-Rhys: eEEeEEE!!!

Corporal: We thought you were the SAS trying to psyche us out! You've been walking around the centre of camp for the last half an hour!

Baby-Rhys: eeEEEHHHIiinoooo I'm FREEZING. Feel my hands!

*Normal voice* So the tents were around in a circle and I was right in the middle, walking round *mimes holding gun, turning around* and all the soldiers were standing to like this:

What the fucks THAT??

And you could hear twigs breaking to start off with, and then a slow progression of, *hushed* whatisit??

*sounding like a haunted, high-pitched demon*

HeeeeeEEEEYYYYYYY.

*mimes soldiers freaking out, makes tactical gestures with hands that look an awful lot like wanking and putting a hat on*

HeeeyyyyYYY GUUUYYYYYSS!

*More freaking out, shushing the other soldiers, more wanking gestures*

Normal Rhys: Until they worked out it was my voice. Which is odd, because you'd think they'd get that straight away.

So I kinda thought at that point maybe the army wasn't right for me...

#rhys darby #our flag means death #stand up #stand up special: imagine that #army #ofmd #rhys darby: earth's hottest cryptid

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farawayfroppy · 8 months

Text

Evergreen – I am swept up in you; please don't dispose of me

part 2 ↣ part 1

izuku midoriya x reader

cw: aged up characters, pro-hero au, lots and lots of angst, some canon-typical violence and deaths, Izuku experiences triggers, panic attacks, and nightmares, Reader has a dream-altering quirk, adult language, Reader is referred to as she/her. i see a lot of myself in midoriya so i gave him the therapy that i need

~3k words

hey all! been a while. oops. i started my first year of teaching, so i have had no time to write. i wasn't even planning on posting this i til i had written more of it, but i wanted you to know that i tried lol. i know it's not much, but i hope you enjoy. - Jean xx

Just like that, Izuku found himself back at work.

He knew it was probably too soon, knew it wouldn’t look good to the press or feel like anything other than painful for himself, but he also knew he had a job to do. One of the bastards that had aided in stealing two lives, right in front of him, had gotten away and he hadn’t even known. Hell, beyond that, there was an entire crime ring that seemed to be growing, getting bolder, right under all of their noses.

As much as he didn’t want to relive any of it, to think about it even in the slightest, he knew that as the only hero on the scene that day, he was also a witness. Shouto had wanted information, and now he had it—first hand.

Once inside the doors of his agency, away and safe from the cameras and prying eyes, he made a beeline for his office. He took the stairs today, not bothering with the elevator, where he might have felt like an animal in a cage. That panicked feeling was happening again as he ascended the stairs. Up and up, around and around, it was all blurring together. When he finally reached his floor, he burst through the door, startling an intern standing near a water fountain that was placed a little too closely to the exit.

Izuku mumbled, “Sorry,” but didn’t slow his pace.

He tried not to think about the astounded looks he received from his coworkers as he flew down the hallway. He realized then that he probably should have notified someone, at least his secretary, of his return. As he neared his office, he passed by her, and she rose from her desk with a surprised expression.

“Oh, Deku, you’re back already?” She asked, trying to disguise the shock in her voice. Thinly veiled, painted over with politeness in a way he knew all too well. The customer service voice was like the landlord special of communication, skirting around and covering up the real issues.

He knew it was for his benefit. She was gentle and kind, but he couldn’t handle it. He didn’t feel like he deserved gentle. He didn’t have the capacity to accept kindness, didn’t know how to hold it while already juggling so much. But he wasn’t mean.

“Yep,” he replied, trying to muster up a smile. Tight-lipped, but passable. “Sorry about the disruption, Jane, but I’ll be pretty busy now, so don’t let anyone in. Thanks!” He rushed out before all but diving into the sanctity of his office.

“But—“ he heard her start just as he closed his door, locking it for good measure.

Izuku sighed, slumping against the door with his head down. He felt like crying. He felt small again. How could a man who had accomplished so much, who drew so many eyes, feel so minuscule unto himself? It was hard to live like this, feeling bad for feeling bad, for complaining when he had such privilege and responsibility. There was no end.

“Hey, squirt,” he heard a gruff voice say.

Startled, he shot up, being met with the sight of Bakugou standing near his desk.

“Wh—how did you know I would be here?” He stammered, floored by his friend’s presence and immediately sobered. “Also, I told you to stop calling me that, because—“

Bakugou cut him off, “It’s gross and weird, I know.” He snickered, his shit-eating grin somehow a sight for Izuku’s sore eyes at that moment. “Your mom called me,” he explained, and Izuku cursed to himself quietly.

He should have known. Mama Inko always needed a spy on the inside to make sure he wasn’t lying about being okay. Which, to her credit: he was totally lying about being okay.

“She said you were coming back here today and asked me to make sure you weren’t throwing up and pissing everywhere," he said, and Izuku raised a questioning eyebrow at that.

“My words, not hers,” Bakugou continued. “And you haven’t puked yet, which is a good sign I guess, but do I spy a little pee running down your leg?” He taunted, making his way closer to his green-haired companion to place a large, gloved hand over his face.

Izuku groaned, prying Bakugou’s hand off of him, “Why do you always have to be so gross? And do you ever wash your gloves?”

His friend scoffed in response, “Tch. Haven't you heard I smell like caramel?"

Izuku shuddered, "Caramelized onion maybe. Go take a bath."

Bakugou gave him a long, pointed look before speaking again," So you're really gonna be okay this time, eh?"

Izuku felt his eyebrows furrow in confusion, knowing his expression was probably all too readable to his friend of many years, at least if his stupid smirk was anything to go by.

"What do you mean?" he said indignantly. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You look like you're here," Bakugou started, "and you may even feel like you're here," he continued, giving Izuku just enough of a shove to make him lose his balance momentarily.

"Hey–" he started to protest, stopping when Bakugou jabbed at his forehead, right between the eyes.

"But up here, you're somewhere else. And usually, you stay there longer," he explained, pulling his hand back to cross his arms, "but you're coming back to us. I can tell 'cause you sound like an idiot again–less deranged, though–but still stupid. I'm way past hoping you'll give up on being perfect or whatever, but you're making a little more sense than you were when I came by your apartment," he said, rolling his eyes as he continued, "Ya know, before you so rudely kicked me out and left me arguing with the fuckin' door. Anyway, that's a good enough sign for me to tell your mom not to get her panties in a twist," he finished.

"Because you care so much," Izuku stressed the words, "I am fine, just like I said when you barged into my apartment before," he paused. Then, with a face of disgust and exasperation, he screeched, "And can you not talk about my mom's panties?"

"Yeah, yeah," Bakugou relented. "How 'bout that neighbor chick that lives next to ya?" he smirked. "Bet hers have little cherries on 'em. And let me tell ya, they were all tied up in knots over you."

Izuku froze, feeling his ears get hot with a blush as your face came to mind–all pinched up in concern–and he immediately stared at his shoes.

"My neighbor?" he asked in disbelief, "When did you talk to her?" He peeked up.

Bakugou grinned, knowing he had struck gold with this line of conversation, "After you locked me out of your place. She came home and saw me arguing away with your closed door–asked if you were okay."

"And?" Izuku prompted, watching as his friend shoved his hands in his pockets so nonchalantly, like he didn't just say something potentially life-ruining. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Bakugou shrugged, watching Izuku's mouth open in shock. "Didn't know you had the hots for her. Not just gonna give some creep info on you in your time of dire need."

Izuku must have visibly deflated, because he continued, "Don't implode; I wasn't mean to her. She looked all...concerned and shit, so you still got a shot."

Izuku sighed, half-relieved that he didn't scare you off and half-annoyed by his friend's tendency to be nosy.

"She's just nice, okay?" He asserted. "Not that you're ever gonna shut up about this, regardless of what I say," he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "And don't talk about her panties either," he ordered.

Bakugou mockingly put his hands up in defeat, "Got it, squirt. I'm heading out now, anyway, now that I've busted up your pity party," he gestured vaguely as he headed toward the door. "I'll tell your mom you haven't keeled over and died yet," he said finally.

He unlocked the door and started to turn the handle as Izuku went to his desk and took a seat, newly determined and ready to get to work.

Bakugou opened the door and began to step out, pausing as he said, "I'm glad you're better now. Than you were that day, I mean." He then added, without any real bite, "Won't have to pick up your slack."

And Izuku didn't know what to say. He nodded, and the other man left. Slumping in his chair, Izuku breathed deeply, not feeling as much of the weight that had been there before, but deep down, he knew that calling himself 'better' was too generous. He understood, though.

The last time he saw Bakugou was right after he had gotten home. Post-incident, post-bullet wound–could you blame him for not making sense? And he was so angry. Just so angry, like he hadn't been in a long time. His friend had come by to try to put an early end to his downward spiral, but he wouldn't listen to any of it. He couldn't. It's like his eyes and ears and, hell, his entire head had been filled with cotton. There had been one time like it in the past, a time that Bakugou had bore witness to just how much the job really affected Izuku.

A few years back, fresh out of school, they had been called on to a kidnapping case. This girl in a small town had disappeared, and people feared it might have been the work of a trafficking ring from a nearby city. They were right. The two of them managed to infiltrate the house that they had been holding the girl hostage in. They even found her.

Izuku still remembers how he had scooped her up, promising that she would be safe again. Promising that she would feel safe again. Bakugou had been fighting close by, securing their exit, a plan they had become accustomed to by then.

They both agreed that Izuku was better at the hands-on rescuing stuff, a more calming presence during a really traumatic time for the victims they saved. And Bakugou was doing what he did best, fighting with an almost reckless abandon. They were almost out, the majority of the suspects involved had been subdued either on the way in or by Bakugou's hands on the way out. But they missed one.

They missed a man who waited for them right at the top of the stairs, one who shot without hesitation. The bullet should have hit Izuku right in the chest, but he was holding the girl he had promised to save. It hit her instead, saving his life but ending hers almost instantly.

It wasn't instant, though. And he remembers how she had looked up at him, with shock, disbelief, pain, and fear. But more than that, he remembered the look of hope. And he doesn't know if it was confusion, or ill-advised optimism that would never cease despite the odds, but she spoke her last words to him then.

"Don't worry," she had choked out, with a smile and the tears on her cheeks that betrayed it.

"Deku will save us."

Izuku felt too warm, trying to shake his head to rid himself of the memory.

"Work," he reminded himself. "Work, work."

He knew that his best chance of preventing anything like that from happening again was to stop it before it started. He had to find the evil in the world and snuff it out before it could spread. But evil doesn't exist in a vacuum.

Evil is born and raised. It's shut out, dealt a bad hand. Loved or unloved; seen or unseen. Evil is a product of generations of the product of an evening. It can sometimes be found in minds and hearts, but always in places it shouldn't be.

It had been hard for Izuku to learn that evil wouldn't be going anywhere despite his best efforts. Like the the night to the day, it just is. He didn't know if it was necessary, and understood that ultimately, he would not be the one to decide. He could only be evil's consequence, but that had consequences for him as well. Everything balanced out, one way or another. All he could do was try to tip the scales in favor of the righteous and the good.

He spent the next few hours pouring over any and all footage from the incident, as well as witness testimonies. From that, he could gather a decent description of the second perpetrator despite his face being partially obscured. The guy was too coward to even show his face, so he'd worn sunglasses and a baseball cap. He did, however, neglect to cover the tattoos that covered his arms, and some were familiar.

At this point, Izuku had seen criminals of all kinds, and was starting to be able to tell who ran with who just based on their tattoos and general demeanor. But while these looked familiar, he couldn't exactly place them. They were slightly different than those of the main gang that ran in his area, so he decided he would send an enhanced (as enhanced as possible based on grainy footage from the scene) photograph of the tattoo he was looking at to both Dynamight and Shouto's agencies. Maybe they would recognize it.

There wasn't much else to go on at the moment, so as difficult as it was, Izuku turned back to the less pressing but very necessary task of filing reports from past cases. Cases--at times very loosely called so--could mean anything from a traffic violation to a minor dispute. Of which, there were many, especially in a big city. It wasn't glamorous, but it was work that needed doing. And, in his absence, the reports had started to pile up.

"Alright," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Paperwork."

To Izuku, the minutes seemed to pass more quickly than usual, which was probably due to the fact that he could basically hear the humming of his heartbeat. His leg was bouncing too, unconsciously, a dull anxiety nipping at his throat while his heart turned over in his chest. His vital organs thrumming with energy made him feel connected to the moment in a way he wished he could reject. It came out of nowhere, that thief of focus. Not completely unwelcome, but uncomfortable in a way that made him start to realize the sweat on his skin and the scratch of his collar.

He had been productive, at least, and had burned through the daylight. He checked the time, eyes growing a bit when he realized how long he had been working. He was completely caught up on paperwork and had even started to get ahead on some things, so he should've known that he had gone way beyond working hours.

He packed his things and left, noticing how he seemed to be the last one in the office. Jane had really taken it to heart when he asked not to be bothered. In some ways, he was relieved. He felt like he'd had enough conversation for the day, so he found a guilty pleasure in walking out in silence. It seemed that even the camera and news crews had taken their leave, and Izuku let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

Once he arrived home, he had only just turned the key when your door was thrown open. He flinched, visibly startled, before taking you in.

You looked flustered as you rushed out, "Oh, did I scare you? I'm sorry." Sheepishly you added, "I totally wasn't waiting for you to come home or anything. Just wanted to...look...at the hallway." You nodded then, as if trying to convince yourself, "You know, for fresh air..."

Izuku laughed, slightly confused, but like felt that was the right move.

"Do you want to come over?" You asked suddenly, and he saw something hopeful swimming in your eyes, which were much more open now than the last time he had seen you. He was thankful for that.

Before he could even agree, you said, "I promise I won't fall asleep on you this time."

He really laughed at that as he nodded, "Sure. Give me 10 minutes? I just need to put my stuff away and change."

"No," you whined playfully, slipping back into your apartment. "Don't change. I like you how you are!"

Izuku just laughed at your antics as your door closed, glad to see you much more full of energy. He hoped you were able to get the rest you needed, but knew that fixing that level of deprivation would take a bit of time. You can't catch up on sleep, after all.

#anime #my hero academia #mha #farawaytalks #mha fic #bnha #izuku midoriya #bnha fic #deku #farawaywrites #my hero academy fanfiction #boku no hero acedamia #deku x reader #bnha deku #mha deku #izuku angst #izuku midoria x reader #izuku x reader #izuku x y/n

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aley-nag · 3 months

Text

Bumpy road, pretty result

Whoaaaa. This one...

The next fanfiction I bound was Cinder and Smoke by @thelittleblackfox. I lover their work to pieces. They write incredible thought out Stucky!AU's with a lot of fantasy aspects or really good scifi and I wanted badly to do one of their fics, but waited til I was a little happier with my results and could make a pretty cover. We decided together on this one and I started formatting... And then I stopped for a long while because Word is the devil.

Cinder & Smoke is a western!AU and just about the most romantic thing I've ever read. It has yearning and a little angst and a very distinct vibe that feels like Fernweh and wilderness and change. Go read it!

I worked on it between June and December 23 and Christmas was the only reason I finished it this quickly, but I did not want to leave it unfinished for the turn of the year.

Sadly I don't have a lot of pictures, but when I'm finished with my copy I'll post some more.

Now we'll come to the journey it was to finish this!

It started out rather uncomplicated, because I thought I had gotten the hang of formatting and then, when I tried adjusting the font and overall look of the text body Word kept killing the italics. And I googled and tried and experimented and I just couldn't get it to stop. I was so frustrated, oh god. It put me off a little and I had to leave it for a while. When I came back around to it I found a slightly butchered solution, that works though so I won't question it. After that formatting went smoother and I was able to bind it. I used paper from that same supplier that fucked up my paper order for the covers from the notebooks. But only after I had it printed I noticed that it was cut crooked and wouldn't cleanly fold in half. I despaired a little, said fuck it and hoped it wouldn't be to noticeable. I think it's alright.

Binding went really well and I think that's the cleanliest job I did to this date.

Did the endbands by hand to match the color scheme I was aiming for. Because of the title I wanted to invoke fire and used primarily black and red for the coloring.

Then came the cover. First of all, don't use black bookcloth. You will see every. single. mistake. Also dust and glitter... I brushed this thing so often, you wouldn't believe it.

And I tried different vinyl. I couldn't find the right shade of red I wanted, it's a little hard to source it around here so I went an entirely different route and used golden glitter vinyl. What I didn't know until after I plotted the design: The glitter has texture. I couldn't see a single cut-line. I had to keep the picture open to work along the edges and not rip the letters. Still lost all of the i-points 😭

The flower was pretty easy though. Glueing it on was also quite hard because it just wouldn't hold and I got glitter everywhere. Which let to more brushing but I'm afraid mailing it destroyed all that work :D

Anyway. I am sooo happy with how it turned out I instantly forgot about all annoyances and was able to mail it before the end of the year and that was a really satisfying last project, so all is well :)

This was also the first time I had the idea of choosing a little icon for the author's penname because most of the time I don't have enough space for the entire name. I reworked all of the other books to accomodate that.

Binding Details

Body Text: Garamond, 11

Half Title/Chapter Heading: Gold Lines Trial, 20

Full Title: Carnivalee Freakshow, 48

Word Count: 57.197

Pages: 232

Paper: publishing paper A4, 90g, 1,5x volume (from the retailer from hell :/)

#fanbinding #bookbinding journey

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tofautisawa · 2 months

Note

Sorry for opening a can of worms, but you mentioned a certain lion indie project did damage on how people view lions and lion media. I was just curious on why you say that.

Hoo boy this is gonna be a long post. I was mostly vaguing on how it's a possibility that My Pride may have skewed people's perception on lion behavior as well as how and what people might people expect from lion media by smaller creators, especially if they are a younger audience who might take everything that happens in it as 100% accurate to lion behavior. Let's not pretend that it's creator didn't influence and inspired a lot of people.

It's a bit of a stretch, I know and I am mostly speaking through experience of what I witnessed in the comments of my own comic and what I have seen towards online media that happens to have lions in it. It has basically died down now, so what I am mentioning was when My Pride was pretty much in it's prime. Thankfully, I didn't get it the worst but I can't say the same for some others. From what I recall, My Pride advertised itself as "The Lion King but realistic", and even though I feel they messed up that "realistic" aspect part, it wouldn't bother me as much if people didn't act like lion media they discover afterwards somehow has to operate exactly the freaking same or that My Pride is the pinnacle of realistic lion behavior so if you step outside of what is portrayed as "Pride Law" in your own works, it's gets questioned or people will flat out say it's incorrect. Pride Law was even brought up when Silver and Gatura had their fight for example even though no such thing even exists in my comic, and a comment mentioned that males will fight til one of them dies which I have never seen in a one on one fight, even if it did happen most of the time the losing male will retreat. But it happened in My Pride so Silver running away is unrealistic I guess. And no, Pride Law getting some things right about lions at a surface level doesn't NOT count. Just because lions commit infantcide in real life doesn't mean My Pride portrayal of it is 100% accurate because the circumstances on WHY they are doing it isn't realistic nor does it make a lick of sense. Don't get me started when people referred to my male lion characters as "manes". Ugh...

Anyway.... Given that Tau ( and by a lesser extent, Silver) get questioned on how they even have prides because they aren't aggressive who killed to get where they are, I can't help but wonder if this is just the standard now because every single male in My Pride ( if they weren't killed off) was a dick. And since "PRUYDE LAHW" states that a male lion's role in a pride is to lead and protect the pride, you couldn't POSSIBLY have a pride in your own works where the roles are reversed and the lionesses are the main protectors. Or that a lioness can simply have a male in a pride for no other reason other than she loves him and isn't just laying around having his cubs because of some "rules".

Speaking of lionesses, you'd be surprised at how many people now think that lionesses will in no way defend their cubs when another male shows up or hell, join in the fight themselves. I feel like people would not have criticized Tau's pride so much if HE was the aggressor and Ekene just sat being submissive because that is what is expected because something popular that claimed to be realistic portrayed it as such. As well as thinking that lionesses are completely weak pathetic creatures made out of wet toilet paper that even if they completely outnumber a single male, he could somehow beat them all without getting a scratch on his body. Nevermind that in real life, lionesses have been known to even turn on their males and kill them.

And some other things that probably escape my mind right now because this post is getting long, and I am just bitching at this point because I been holding back these opinions for quite a while now. Like I said, I know this is a huge stretch and most of it probably stems from my own bitterness. So I will be fair in this aspect, Even though I feel like the creator should not have advertised this as "realistic" since My Pride is HEAVY on the fantasy elements and tries to tackle issues like Homophobia- I know it's not 100% the shows fault and that people themselves should learn to separate different medias unless a creator flat out states that said media they are doing takes place in the My Pride universe or was inspired by it. My comic is definitely not inspired by My Pride, especially since I first started this comic long before it came out and while some thing have changed about my story over the years, the same major story beats were already planned and there was no "Pride Law" around to even influence that, not that it would have regardless.

#ask #off topic ask

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

Note

Hello! Could you do these three with Tommy please? Thank you!

🩹 (tending to each other's wounds)

🚪 (showing up at the other's door needing comfort)

🍯 (friends to lovers)

Hey there Bri! So I feel kind of bad because I’ve been keeping this ask hostage in my ask box for months now, but I was waiting for the right time for inspiration to strike. After seeing the post you made a few days ago about being let down after your birthday, I got inspired and this is what came from it. Tommy may be a little OOC in this but quite honestly, I don’t care. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I hope you enjoy and that this little story makes up from me keeping this hidden for those months! 🥰

A Late Night Visit

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: blood, injuries

Usually it’s Tommy showing up at (Y/N)’s door when he’s bitten off more than he can chew, but what happens when it’s the other way around?

It was odd for there to be a knock on Tommy’s door after dusk, but he answered it anyway. The last thing he expected to see on the other side was his friend, (Y/N), standing with her arm clutched against her chest and her stockings ripped and bloodied.

“What happened?” he questioned after his initial surprise had passed.

“I was riding my horse and he threw me off. I…I didn’t know where else to go,” she said through her sniffles, trying so hard to hold back her tears.

“You walked all the way over here?” he asked, his surprised expression returning as he took her gently by the shoulders and slowly walked with her inside. She hobbled her way over to the couch and sat down, nodding slightly when he came to kneel in front of her. “Jesus, (Y/N)…you could have hurt yourself even more,” he commented on her choice, worry evident in his voice now.

“Don’t think I could’ve made it any worse than I am now,” she said dryly, hissing as Tommy took her injured arm and brought it away from her chest so that he could inspect it. “Be gentle, please,” she asked him.

“Always am with you,” he responded, looking up at her with the slightest grin on his face. (Y/N) tried to smile, but it came out like a grimace due to the pain she was feeling.

“How bad is it?” she asked after he’d been assessing her injuries for a few minutes.

“Not as bad as it looks,” he informed her, making her exhale a relieved sigh, “you’ve just bruised your wrist pretty bad and have some scrapes on your arm and leg.”

“Good…I thought you were gonna have to chop it off,” she still managed to joke despite the pain she was still feeling. Tommy chuckled at her statement, shaking his head as a smile formed on his face.

“Would you want me to bandage the scrapes up?” he asked then, his eyebrows raised slightly as he awaited her answer.

“No,” she shook her head before looking down at the injuries in mention, “they’ll heal fine on their own.”

“Whatever you say,” he shrugged at her response smiling at her as he went to stand up.

(Y/N) stopped him before he was able to move though. “Thank you for letting me in, Tommy,” she said to him, her words making his eyes catch hers again.

“Course, love,” he answered her with a lop-sided smile, laughing softly to himself before continuing, “what was I supposed to do? Leave you on the stoop til morning?”

“I mean you could have…” (Y/N) trailed off, prying her eyes away from his. Although she could stare into them all day, she needed to break away before he could see the fact that his gaze on her, mixed with that stupid smirk, was starting to make her feel things…things that her eyes would surely give away.

“But I wouldn’t,” he told her, his eyes not straying from her as he watched her bite her bottom lip. Stop doing that before I do something about it, he said to her in his head, trying to resist the urge to make a move on her right there. He’d been dancing around his feelings for her for some time now. It was that cliché ‘I don’t want to ruin our friendship’ worry that would travel through his mind each time he considered making a move. He was hung up on the possibility that the thought could come true.

“Because you care about your friends,” she added onto his sentence, a smile on her face as her eyes found his again. She could see something different in them this time; something she hadn’t quite seen before. It made her curious, and she now wanted to know what had set it off.

“No,” he hummed, shaking his head slightly before he sat up on his knee and moved himself closer to her, “it’s because I care about the person that I love,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to her forehead. He almost laughed when he pulled back. (Y/N) was now looking at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. The small gap in them made them look the slightest bit more kissable.

“The person you love…as a friend,” she tried to coax more details out of him, quite literally in shock from his words.

“Not just as a friend anymore, (Y/N),” he shook his head again, “I want something more with you.”

“You…you do?” (Y/N) did not know what to say. She didn’t expect this to happen when she stumbled her way to his door.

“Yeah,” his word came out like a breath, “but only if you’d want something more too.”

“I’d want something more too,” she told him, a slight nod accompanying her words as a smile formed on her face.

A similar smile graced Tommy’s features as he heard what she had to say. He didn’t think it’d be that easy, and he honestly didn’t think that she’d be interested in him in the same way as he was with her. He always thought that he wasn’t the man for her…but maybe he truly was. And now he was going to try his damnedest to be the man that she deserved.

“You sure you don’t need anything on that cut?” he asked her, nodding to the scrape on her arm that still looked to be in pretty rough shape.

“I’m sure,” she assured him before her smile grew, “I think I do need a kiss though,” she tested her luck, her words making Tommy chuckle before he obliged…anything to make her feel better, right?

———

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @sunsetbeachesandwriting @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby blurb #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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training4theapocalypse · 11 months

Text

Finders Keepers Ch 5. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: SMUT!!!!!!!!! Kissing, Dry humping, Sucking on my titties like you wanted me calling me all the time like Blondie check out my Chrissy behind it's fine all of the time.

Summary: It's the night of Slughorn's party and you're ready to make McLaggen jealous.

A/N: I said I wasn't gonna post til Sunday but I am too impulsive!!! Here is some recommended listening: Escapism by RAYE and Daylight by David Kushner (thank you anon for the latter recommendation). P.S. You can tell I'm not actually a Ravenclaw because my door riddle was SHIT lmao.

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula

Chapter 5: Firewhisky

Two weeks later, you sit on the same spot on the edge of Marietta’s bed, this time lacing up your strappy stilettos. You point your wand at your feet. ‘Molliare’ you think, silently casting a cushioning charm so you can walk with ease in your heels.

Cho and Marietta join you as you walk over to the mirror, they stand behind you like proud parents.

“Stunning,” says Cho looking at you in the mirror.

“Yes, well, enough about the dress,” says Marietta, admiring her alterations. “Zacharias is going to feel like he’s won the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Draw when he sees you.”

Ugh, you almost forgot about Smith.

You admire yourself in the mirror and you have to admit- this is probably the best you’ve ever looked. Thanks to Marietta, your form-fitting cobalt blue dress seems to glow ethereally in the candlelight. She’s given you a high leg split and its generously low-cut bodice accentuates every curve of your body.

“Okay, toss your head forward and mess up your hair a wee bit,” says Cho. You flip your head down and back up and push your tousled hair behind your ear. “Perfect - it looks like you’ve just finished a very steamy snogging session.”

“Fuck, I’m nervous.” You reach out and hold both of their hands. “I wish you were coming.”

“Okay, Captain,” says Cho, imitating your most authoritative dressing-room voice. “What’s the game plan? Let’s go over positions.” Strangely, it helps your nerves.

“Meet Smith downstairs and arrive late. Don’t even look at McLaggen. Impress Gwenog. Still don’t look at McLaggen. Have a few drinks and hit the buffet-”

“Have one drink. No bread or you’ll burst out of that dress,” warns Marietta.

“One drink to stay reasonably sober,” you repeat, ignoring the last part. “Wait for McLaggen to approach me. Brush him off casually. Leave conspicuously and in an extra giggly fashion with Zacharias Smith then report back to you two in the common room.”

“Well remembered.”

“Shouldn’t I just snog Smith in front of him?”

“No!” says Marietta.

“It’ll be way worse in his head if he doesn’t see you. Leave it to his imagination,” nods Cho knowledgeably.

God, dealing with boys was such hard work. You look at your two friends sincerely- they’re extremely skilled in this particular art of war.

“Thank you- both of you. This was insanely hard work, I mean, this dress, Marietta…” You check yourself out in the mirror again. “It’s beautiful, really. I’m sorry if I’ve ever been sort of disparaging towards this stuff before. As if it’s any less worthwhile than Quidditch or school. It’s just… I’m not used to being bad at things.”

They understand. You don’t need to say any more as the three of you embrace in the middle of the dorm room.

“Right,” says Cho, wiping her eyes. “You’d better go before Zacharias thinks you’ve stood him up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slughorn’s office looks like a beautifully decadent circus tent. The walls are draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings, contrasting with the striking blue of your dress.

You walk in, arm-in-arm with Smith who looks incredibly pleased with himself. When you met him earlier on the marble staircase he actually did a double take before saying your name questioningly, as if he didn’t believe it was you.

“Fuck off, Smith, I don’t look that different.”

“Ladylike as ever, I suppose,” he scoffed and you rolled your eyes.

But now as you walk in, you keep your head high and smile at other students you recognise, as if you’re delighted to be here with Smith. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, as the two of you pass through- you hope it’s your dress that’s causing a commotion but you resign yourself to the fact that your classmates are probably just surprised to see you here with a boy.

Tactics, remember tactics.

“Let’s get a drink,” you whisper, marching him towards a tower of champagne flutes. You grab one and drain it quickly, using the opportunity to discreetly scan the room for McLaggen.

He’s across the room, determinedly talking to Hermione. You have a satisfied feeling that he’s trying not to look at you.

You dump your empty glass, grab another for courage, and link Smith’s arm again, steering him to try and find Slughorn but you don’t need to go far before you hear a booming voice calling your name.

“Professor Slughorn! Thank you for inviting me,” you respond graciously, pretending you aren’t starstruck by his companion, Gwenog Jones. “This is Zacharias, he’s captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team.”

“Oh! I thought- ” says Slughorn looking from you to Smith and then off into the room behind you. “Ah, never mind. I’m an old man, who knows less and less about young love these days.” Slughorn chuckles and Smith gives you a questioning look which you ignore. “Anyway, allow me to introduce Miss Gwenog Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Gwenog, this is the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, I mentioned earlier.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, shoving your drink into Smith’s hand and clasping hers when she reaches out to give you a handshake. “I’m a huge fan.”

“Old Sluggy’s been telling me all about you,” she says.

“All good things, I hope?” You ask playfully of Slughorn who guffaws.

“Of course, of course!”

“I don’t suppose he mentioned our recent landslide victory against Slytherin?” You give her a winning smile, desperate to make a positive impression.

“He did… But I’m more interested in what he told me about your training.”

“My- my training?” you stumble - slightly surprised that Professor Slughorn knows anything about your training.

“I’ve told Miss Jones here all about you spending every evening on the pitch. I can see it from that window, you know.” He gestures to the window in the corner, obscured by the curtains. “You and McLaggen, practising for hours and hours and right in the middle of your N.E.W.Ts too… Oh, look, there he is!” Slughorn looks over your shoulder again and calls his name. “Not that you’d be interested in McLaggen for your all-female team, Gwen,” he chuckles. Slughorn spills a little champagne when he spots Harry Potter and practically runs over to join him, abandoning your group.

You bristle as McLaggen replaces Slughorn’s vacant space beside you. He shakes hands with Gwenog who, you remind yourself, he’s acquainted with already.

“As I was saying, Slughorn told me all about your win against Slytherin and while it piqued my interest, it was your work ethic that really got my attention. And he says you’re a keeper too?”

“A world-class one,” says McLaggen. “I’m surprised she hasn’t been snapped up by a professional team already.”

You blink at him in surprise. It’s very considerate of him to compliment you like that in front of Gwenog, even though you’re not speaking.

“And it’s you two who’ve been practising together every night?” she asks, noticing the look you give to McLaggen. “I mean, you’ve actually been training? Slughorn hasn’t been seeing you head off to the Quidditch pitch so you can snog privately or anything, has he?” She lets out a laugh like a bark.

“No! God, no,” you say quickly, and go to squeeze Smith’s arm but he’s already disappeared without you even noticing.

“Absolutely not,” confirms McLaggen.

“Good,” she smiles. “Well, you’re not the usual build for a keeper, I must say. They usually look more like him - ha!” She nods at McLaggen. “But if you’re as good as he and Slughorn say you are, it sounds like I’d be stupid not to let you try out during the transfer window this summer.”

“That… that would be incredible. Thank you.”

She bids you and McLaggen farewell and goes to mingle with the other guests. If you hadn’t fallen out with McLaggen, you’d grab him and jump up and down screaming for joy. Instead, you stand awkwardly, trying not to look at him.

Game plan, a small voice in your head reminds you but the champagne has loosened your sharp tongue.

“Well, you better not keep your girlfriend waiting,” you say, looking for Smith.

“Who told you that Hermione’s my girlfriend?��

“Hermione told Lavender who told Parvati who told Padma who told Cho who told me,” you rhyme off, trying to sound casual.

“I thought you didn’t like gossip.”

You shrug. “I just hear things.”

“Look, I know you don’t like her after what she did to Marietta-”

“Oh, is that what she said?”

“No, it’s what I know. I was in the D.A. with them too. You’re not the only one who hears things.”

Finally bringing yourself to look at him properly, you’re extremely annoyed to see that he looks incredibly handsome in his black shirt and dress robes.

“So, have you snogged her?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

“What?!”

“Have you snogged her?” you repeat slowly and clearly, knowing full well he heard you the first time.

“I’ll go and snog her right now if you’re so concerned.”

“Go ahead. It should be easy, right? If she’s your girlfriend and not just here to make Ron Weasley jealous. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my date.”

He watches dumbfounded as you walk across the room to grab Smith aggressively and lead him by the hand out of the room. When you reach the corridor, you turn around and see that Smith looks like he can’t believe his luck.

“Oh,” you say, trying to think of a lie when you realise you really, definitely don’t want to snog him. “Sorry- I just wanted a bit of air. It’s so hot in there and my armpits are like, really sweaty.” You make up wildly.

Smith pulls a disgusted face and turns to go back in. “Wait!” you grab his arm and spin him back around. “Let me fix your hair.” You run your hand through it, messing it up slightly. “There, much better.”

He stares at you, stunned. “You are so weird.” He returns to the party and you groan, leaning against the indented archway in the wall and knocking your head back against it a few times in frustration. When you hear the click of high-heeled footsteps coming towards you, you flatten yourself inside the little cove so you’re not spotted alone.

Hermione Granger whips past you without so much as a backwards look. You watch her as she walks as fast as she can in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. She’s ditched McLaggen, you realise. You thought you’d feel ready to gloat but instead you just feel… empty. Until recently he was your friend after all.

Returning to the party, you’re not sure what to do with yourself. The game plan has gone out the window.

You want to do everything you can to avoid Zacharias Smith, and you really don’t want to be paraded in front of a vampire by Slughorn like Potter is right now. The only person you actually want to talk to is Cormac McLaggen but lately, all you’ve been able to do is argue, that is when you’re not sitting in sullen silence during Potions.

You decide you’d better mix with some other students. You spend some time chatting with Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley who you recognise from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They congratulate you on your win against Slytherin, and you return the compliment but only out of obligation as both victories make your teams the closest rivals on the table, competing for the top spot. You excuse yourself and cross the room to get another drink but Professor Snape halts you in your tracks.

“Detention,” he says simply.

“Sir, I-”

“The first Saturday after the holidays. And I expect you to be more suitably dressed for the occasion.”

You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. Any argument with Snape is likely to extend your detention to a week or even a month. More murmuring cascades around the room as he gestures to the door. It’s probably for the best, you think, that you leave before you drink any more. You got what you came for - an invite to the Holyhead Harpies tryouts. But you wish you’d just…

What do you wish?

That you’d made McLaggen jealous in the process? Or even just made up with him? Gone back to being friends. But could you ever swallow your pride and settle for being just friends? Surely that had to be better than whatever this feeling was right now.

Out of the hot room, the cool air hits you dizzyingly as you walk quickly along the corridor to the entrance hall. You see McLaggen ahead of you, near the front doors, in almost the exact same spot where you had your argument two weeks ago.

Maybe being friends would be enough.

When he hears your footsteps he turns and groans “Oh, no. Not you.”

You catch up with him. “Always so disappointed to see me, McLaggen.”

“I’ve been chucked out. Snape gave me detention.”

“Me too,” you shrug. It’s not much of an olive branch but your instinct is to try and make him feel better. Misery loves company after all.

“You have?” He brightens up considerably.

“He thought I wasn’t ‘suitably dressed’,” you say and his eyes follow your hands as you smooth the front of your satin dress. “What did you get chucked out for?”

“He caught me hiding behind the bar trying to drown my sorrows.” He pulls an entire bottle of Firewhisky from his cloak.

“Your sorrows?”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“And he didn’t confiscate the bottle?”

“I pretended that I was about to vomit on his shoes and he just threw me out without noticing I still had it.”

Without warning you both burst out laughing. Your stomach hurts from laughing at the idea of Snape dragging McLaggen out at arm’s length, trying to avoid being vomited on.

“Well, no wonder he was in such a foul mood when he saw me. I mean detention, for wearing a dress?”

“Personally, I agree with Snape,” His gaze lingers on you again. “It’s very distracting.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Just don’t ask me what colour it is. I haven’t noticed.”

You hit his arm. This is nice - the playful banter, both of you not sulking for the first time in weeks. It feels almost… normal. Until, with a small jolt, you remember it’s not.

“Don’t be a pig, McLaggen. You have a girlfriend.”

“She isn’t my girlfriend,” he says, leaning his head back against the wall. “We can’t stand each other.”

And there it is. The news you’d been secretly hoping for all night. The pit in your stomach feels much lighter.

“Where’s Smith anyway? He was looking pretty dishevelled when he came back from the corridor.”

You feel a pang of guilt. He’d noticed. And it doesn’t make you feel victorious in the way you’d thought it would. “I honestly couldn’t give a shit where he is.” He says nothing. You wonder if he’s been hoping for similar news too.

“Do you want some?” He asks eventually, shaking the bottle of Firewhisky and breaking the prolonged silence. You go to accept it but he says. “Not here - Snape and Filch will be prowling the corridors in a minute.”

“Quidditch stands?”

He nods and you exit the castle, walking side-by-side in the dark, down the path towards the pitch. It’s a frosty night and you feel your teeth chatter.

“Wait a sec.” He removes his heavy cloak and wraps it around your shoulders. It smells good. Like him. “Better?” You nod and take the bottle from him, so you can have a nip of Firewhisky. It burns your chest, spreading heat through your body.

The path ends when you get to the pitch and you feel your high heels sink into the grass. “Shit,” you hiss, freeing one of your stilettos.

“Right, up you get.” He stands in front of you and stoops slightly, so he can give you a piggyback.

“You must be drunk if you think I’m letting you carry me.”

“Don’t argue for once in your life. Hurry up.”

You give him the bottle back before jumping up so he can carry you across the grass and underneath the stands. The familiar smell of amber and jasmine, this time mixed with Firewhisky and mud from the Quidditch pitch, reaches your nostrils. You resist the strong urge you have to lean into the crook of his neck and inhale.

He lets you off when you get to the wooden stairs. “Ladies first.”

“Remembered I’m not a bloke, have you?” you ask, walking up the stairs. Cho was right- he does always let you walk in front of him.

“If I thought you were a bloke, I wouldn’t constantly be staring at your arse.” He gives you a cocky grin.

“Oh, well, by all means, carry on objectifying me then,” you say sarcastically and snatch the bottle from his hands before turning around quickly so he can’t see you smile.

He follows you to the top of the stand where the pair of you sit, looking out onto the pitch and the snowy hills in the distance.

“I’ve never noticed how beautiful it is up here,” you sigh.

“Always been too busy watching the game?”

You nod.

“Same.”

There’s still an awkward dark cloud hanging over your heads. You take another drink of Firewhisky and pass it back to him.

“Right, out with it then.”

“What?” he asks.

“We can’t just act like the past couple of weeks haven’t happened.” Being brave, being vulnerable like this is something you’ve always found difficult and the bottle of liquid courage you and McLaggen are sharing doesn’t seem to be helping.

You try to think of how to get the words out - if there’s one thing you’ve learned from spending more time with Cho and Marietta this year, it’s that it’s better to get this sort of thing out in the open. You take a deep breath, preparing for rejection but he beats you to the punch.

“I’m an idiot.” He groans. “I just - I got it into my head that we’d go to the party together and you’d end up getting off with Gwenog Jones. So when Hermione asked me to go I jumped at the chance.”

“I don’t fancy Gwenog Jones-”

“-Then you turned up with Smith and that was even worse than what I imagined with Gwen.”

You draw his cloak around you and look at your shoes. “Well, I didn’t realise you had asked me to go to Slughorn’s party as friends.”

“I- I didn’t want to ask you as friends. Believe me. I thought I was kidding myself that you might be into me… everyone said I was stupid to even ask you.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“Belby-“

“Belby?!” You scowl. That moron. “Who else?” You demand.

“Well I’m not gonna say now, am I?” McLaggen laughs. “I can tell Belby’s about to regret it.”

Your face cracks into a smile. The aggression bubbling up in your chest evaporates into the frosty night air. His laugh gives you a new perspective - it’s as if you can step back from the scene and can see how daft it is to get so bothered by someone like Marcus Belby.

You look up at his face in the cold moonlight. Butterflies squirm in your stomach. He’s so distractingly good-looking - you can’t think properly when it’s just you and him like this. No quaffle or cauldron to divert your attention or give you a reason not to look at him for too long.

“To be honest, I sort of thought Belby was right after all because you didn’t seem that keen when I asked you.”

“I hesitated because you make me nervous, Cormac,” you say softly, determined not to look away. It’s like looking into the sun.

“Yeah?” He’s still looking into your eyes but he feels closer now.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t figured out by now that I like boys too.” You look from his eyes to his lips. “Well, not boys. Just… just one.”

His mouth is inches from yours. You can feel his breath on your lips. “If you say Smith, I’ll kill him.”

And there it is. You’re not sure whether it’s his possessiveness or the fact you’d really like to watch him hit Smith but something about that sentence makes you feral for him. You press your mouth against his, the burning taste of Firewhisky on both your lips.

He kisses you back fiercely. It’s harder and rougher than the soft kisses you’ve experienced before but you like it. It means you can kiss him back the way you want to - you know he can handle it. You bite hard on his bottom lip in silent admonishment for what he’s put you through. And Cormac returns the favour, his hand roughly gripping the part of your thigh exposed by your dress. You wonder if he knows it’s for him. The absence of fabric - created for the sole purpose of seeking his attention.

You bring your arms behind his neck, pressing your body as close to him as you can and the Firewhisky falls from the bench and rolls on the floor, forgotten. He moves his hand under your thigh and drags you onto his lap so that you’re straddling him. Your lips meet again, crashing into each other and his tongue intrudes into your mouth, rolling over yours. You want to feel his mouth everywhere.

As if reading your mind, his lips leave yours to kiss along your jaw and down your neck. You lean back so he can draw his tongue along your collarbone and bury his face in your chest. Cormac’s strong hands grip your hips tightly, his thumbs pressing bruises into your hipbones without any indication of slowing down or showing restraint.

From this position, you can feel his erection pressing into you. It’s the first time you’ve kissed a man like this but your body responds almost automatically, sending your hips grinding into him. The night air is below freezing but your skin feels burning hot between the weight of his cloak and the warmth of his body.

The difference in size and strength between you sends wild thoughts flashing through your mind of him pinning you down against the bench and savagely taking you there.

You run your fingers through his dark blonde hair, pushing his face into your cleavage in encouragement, feeling his hot tongue and rough chin against your chest as you grind yourself against him harder. The now hot and damp fabric of your underwear rubs against the hard bulge between your bodies, creating friction more electric than the one that’s been between you the past few weeks.

“Fuck…” he moans into your chest softly.

All evidence so far has pointed to Cormac being an ass man but you’re not so sure any more as he continues his vocal appreciation, licking and sucking your tits right here on the deserted stands.

Cormac’s hands move up from your hips to push your breasts together and he whines when one of your nipples peeks out over the top of your dress. He latches onto the small nub of skin and sucks, swirling his tongue around your nipple.

“Cormac, fuck, that’s-”

But just what it is, is interrupted by the anguished moan of pleasure that leaves your lips when his teeth graze your sensitive skin. It echoes across the deserted pitch into the night. A noise that would be indiscernible in the usually busy stadium. Unable to take it anymore you push his chest back and stare into his eyes, breathing heavily.

“We shouldn’t… we should go back to the castle,” you pant.

“Shouldn’t what?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk, his slightly wet chin glistening in the dim moonlight. “I haven’t suggested anything.”

“I was talking to myself.”

He grins and helps you off of him so you can fix your dress. “Well, that was easily the best thing that’s happened to me in this stadium,” he says, adjusting himself too.

“Ah, maybe you’ll get a game one day,” you tease and cup his face, just so you can feel his stubbly chin against your palm again.

He kisses your palm before taking your hand in his so you can walk back down the steps to the pitch together. When you get to the grass he insists on carrying you again but this time refuses to put you back down until you reach the castle steps.

From a tower high above, Horace Slughorn looks out of the window of his now-empty office. The party has long finished. He chuckles to himself when he sees the silhouette of McLaggen emerging from the darkness, carrying you on his back towards the entrance hall, illuminated by the castle torches.

When you climb off him and make it to the top of the marble staircase, you kiss him goodbye one final time. This is the last time you’ll see him before you go home for the Christmas holidays tomorrow. You turn and leave for Ravenclaw Tower, while he goes off in the opposite direction to Gryffindor.

“I can skip, I can be broken, I can burst, I can sing. What am I?” asks the bronze eagle knocker on the door. “A heart,” you say, ripping off your heels impatiently, waiting for the door to swing open. You need to wake up Cho and Marietta - you promised you’d tell them everything.

Chapter 6: First Name Basis

#cormac mclaggen #cormac mclaggen x female reader #cormac mclaggen x reader #fanfic #harry potter and the half blood prince #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #freddie stroma

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adriennebarnes · 1 year

Note

could u do an imagine for xavier based off the song i love you by billie eilish where it’s angsty but with a fluff ending?

I most certainly can! I love getting requests, makes me feel like a real Tumblr fanfic writer. Just forewarning you, I did not understand the song at all, I listened to it, I read the lyrics, I had to look at someone’s else note on the lyrics, have zero clue what I’m working with

I Love You

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Hispanic!Reader

Summary: Xavier tells Y/N he loves her but she doesn’t say it back and asks for a break. Xavier doesn’t know why.

Warning: errors because I don’t proofread til it’s posted, me self projecting, some thoughts that go through my head for some reason, I guess ED but not really.

Y/N is a person who is very much has her guard up. When she was younger, she was bullied for not looking like the other girls so whenever someone was nice to her, she proceeded with caution. Not to mention her own mother commenting on her weight whenever she was eating, trying on clothes, sometimes her mom would look a at old pictures of her and say ‘look how skinny you were’ and would even text her old pictures of herself and say ‘you looked so pretty, try to lose weight’ (yeah…that’s my mom, everyone). Years of receiving mean comments from her classmates and her own mother made her think she did not deserve a happy ending, didn’t deserve to be loved. She is very insecure, has self image issues, it’s a whole thing. However, with Xavier, she let her guard down, all those voices she has in her head suddenly go mute when he’s around, everything was going well. She likes the way things are. Xavier and Y/N were in the Weathervane.

“Y/N, you already had three brownies,” Xavier said,

“Then can i get one more brownie to make it even?” Y/N asked with her puppy dog eyes, she’s comfortable eating with him. Xavier looked away but then looked back and Y/N also added a pout.

“Anything for you.” Xavier said, kissing her cheek, and going to the counter to buy another brownie. Xavier came back. “Here you go, sweetheart, all warmed up.”

“Thank you, Flaquito.” Y/N said, kissing cheek. “Now what did you and Ajax do again? I still don’t understand how you guys could stone the principal.”

“It was an accident! The principal didn’t know that Ajax was a gorgon and they reached over and took his beanie off, I covered my eyes, the principal got turned to stone. Besides, he shouldn’t try to take someone’s hat away without asking ‘why are you wearing a hat’ so that is their fault completely.” Xavier said.

“Alright, fine, i believe you.” Y/N said. They talked some more, then took an Uber back to Nevermore, and now they are in Xavier’s art shed. “Why did you bring me here? Are you going to kill me or are you trying to kidnap me?” Y/N asked jokingly.

“Those are the two conclusions you came up with? Damn, sweetheart, you’re slipping.” Xavier.

“Haha, pero de verdad, why am i here?” Y/N asked.

“I wanted to show you something, hold on.” Xavier said as he pulled out a big canvas underneath a white tarp. When he unveiled it, it was a portrait of Y/N. Since Y/N has the power of botanokinesis, she can control plant life, Xavier painted Y/N surrounded by plants and with flowers in her hair.

“Flaquito, this is so beautiful, thank you.” Y/N said, hugging Xavier.

“I know we’ve only been dating three months but…I love you.” Xavier said. Y/N’s heart dropped. She backed away from Xavier.

“You’re kidding, right?” Y/N asked awkwardly.

“Kidding? No, Y/N, my feelings for you are real, i love you.” Xavier said, walking towards Y/N but she out her hands up in defense and back up.

“Xavier, you can’t love me, it’s only been 3 months, not even 6 months, not even a whole year.” Y/N said.

“Love isn’t a timing thing, it’s just what you feel and I feel great when I’m with you, you make me feel safe, you feel like home, I love you, Y/N.” Xavier said,

“Can you please stop saying you love me?” Y/N asked exasperated. She looked at Xavier and he had tears in his eyes.

“You don’t love me, is that it? You want to break up?” Xavier asked through tears.

“I don’t think you understand something, you can’t love me.” Y/N said.

“You don’t understand, you can’t tell me what my feelings are for you, why can’t you just accept the fact that I love you.” Xavier said.

“Oh my gosh, please stop saying that. I like that you painted me as Persephone, that’s how you see me, cool, I accept that, but I’m not Persephone, I am not good for you.” Y/N said,

“I think that’s for me to decided. You don’t get to decide whether or not you’re good for me.” Xavier said.

“I think we need a break, Xavier, just to think things over, so I can think things over.” Y/N said. Xavier gave Y/N a weak smile and left the shed, slamming the door. Y/N began to cry. She loved him, but she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t deserve it. It’s amazing how Xavier could see her as Persephone when she doesn’t see herself like that at all.

She was on the couch, crying, thinking about how sad she made Xavier, that made her cry even more. He didn’t need Y/N to burden him with her problems, but she also didn’t want him to think she doesn’t care about him. After a few more minutes, she went back to her dorm she shared with Enid and Wednesday.

“Hey Y/N, wait, why are you crying, what’s wrong?” Enid asked her, immediately getting off the bed to comfort her friend.

“Mm Nothing, Xavier told me he loved me and I said I needed a break, so here I am.” Y/N said as she was wiping her tears.

“You really liked him, Y/N, why did you decide to have a break?” Enid asked.

“Enid, It’s clearly a personal decision to Y/N, she doesn’t need to tell why she wanted a break, it was up to her, she did it, leave it be.” Wednesday defended Y/N.

“Thank you, Wednesday.” Y/N said. She went to the bathroom to do her business, brush her teeth, wash her face and change into her pajamas. She walked out and went to bed. However the events of today replayed in her mind and she hated it so much.

The next day, she did her morning routine and went to the quad for breakfast in her uniform. Out if everything, Y/N just grabbed a banana.

“You’re not going to eat anything else, mama?” Ajax asked.

“Just the banana, papito, I’m not very hungry.” Y/N said, gotta make up for eating four brownies yesterday, she thought.

“Okay, just checking.” Ajax said and walked away to sit next to Xavier,

“Did you notice anything weird?” Xavier asked immediately after Ajax sat down.

“I just saw her grab a banana for breakfast, that’s it.” Ajax informed him. “I’ll ask Enid if she knows anything if that helps.”

“Yes that would help, thank you.” Xavier said. He was looking at Y/N’s table. He didn’t take his eyes off her until the bell rang. As everyone was leaving the quad, Ajax went to talk to Enid.

“How’s Y/N doing by the way?” Ajax asked.

“She was crying yesterday because of Xavier, but she hasn’t told me anything about why she asked for a break. She really liked him, I don’t understand what could have happened, she was so happy to go to the weathervane with him.” Enid commented.

“It’s a mystery, Xavier is also curious about what changed. Maybe it’s a shapeshifter that looks like Y/N and the real Y/N is trapped somewhere!” Ajax exclaimed.

“Are you stoned?” Enid asked,

“Of course not, it’s too early. I’m gonna sit with Xavier today.” Ajax said,

“And I’ll sit with Y/N.” Enid said. They went to their classes and as promised, she sat next to Y/N in all the classes until school was over. During lunch, she noticed that Y/N only ate a salad and nothing else. Which is fine, nothing against it, but she chose a salad over her favorite food. Enid was starting to get worried. “Wednesday, you like observing people, have you noticed anything strange happening with Y/N?” Enid asked.

“Not really, just looks like her habits have increased.” Wednesday commented.

“What do you mean about that?” Enid asked.

“At lunch, she only eats half her food and saves the rest for later, right now, she’s eating half and throwing the rest out, meaning she doesn’t intend on eating later anytime soon.” Wednesday said.

“Thanks, Wednesday.” Enid thanked the goth girl. She was about to talk to Y/N when Xavier approached her.

“Y/N, we need to talk.” Xavier said. Y/N agreed and went to the woods with Xavier. As they were walking, Y/N tried making wildflowers grow in the grass, she succeeded and that brought a smile to her face. “Why did you ask for a break?” Xavier asked and Y/N stopped playing with her powers.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“Why did you ask for a break?” Xavier repeated.

“Xavier, i love you, i really do, but im not emotionally stable for you, don’t you see? The longer you’re with me, the more you are going to see how broken I truly am. I don’t love myself, I can barely believe that you love me, what I see in the mirror is nothing like what you painted, there are going to be moments where I would restrict myself to much that I will go to bed starving because the last meal I ate was at 3pm (which does happen to me often), I don’t want you to regret being with me. As the months this go on, you’ll see how much of a burden I am after you have to reassure me time and time again that you only love me, and you’re going to resent me because I’d be holding you back. I don’t want you to resent me, okay?” Y/N explained, at this point she was full on crying so Xavier went closer to her and pulled her in a hug. That’s when she let out a sob. Xavier’s eyes started to water, he started letting Y/N’s hair, trying to soothe her. After her sobbing has calmed down, Xavier pulled her away and lifted her chin up with his finger so he could see her face.

“You are not a burden, okay. As for the self love part, we will work on that together. I’ll be with you no matter what, I won’t resent you, if you see that I’m unhappy, although I doubt that I would be unhappy by your side, talk to me about it and break it off. If you feel like you’re broken, we’ll put the pieces back together. I would never regret being with you, you just need to talk to me about all these doubts you’re having. When did it start? How long have you been feeling like this?” Xavier asked, wiping away her tears.

“It started since I was younger, you know how ethic moms are, they always have something to say about your weight. My mom still makes comment about my weight, then there’s the elementary school bullies, so I always felt like this.” Y/N said with glassy eyes.

“You never told me that before. You have been carrying that around for years, have you?” Xavier asked. Y/N nodded, holding back a sob with teary eyes.

“I didn’t want to tell anyone but it feels so good to let it out.” Y/N said.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way, okay. We will work on your self esteem, you will learn to love yourself, we will do this together.” Xavier said. Y/N nodded and hugged him. “We won’t date until you’re ready, okay.”

“Thank you, i need that.” Y/N said.

“Anything for you.” Xavier said, kissing the top of her forehead.

The End

Don’t know how to feel about this. I will admit I cried a little since I’m technically writing about my own experiences, it came out a little short but hope you liked it though!

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #percy hynes white #xavier thrope imagine #hispanic reader #latina #latinx #hispanic

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sam-loves-seb · 12 days

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I’ve read your Several Sentences Sunday post an embarrassing number of times. I’m just that excited for the next chapter of I’m Not The Way I Was.

aw thanks so much, this is so sweet. i'm so glad you're excited about i'm not the way i was. i am too!

also gonna use this ask to say that unfortunately there will be no new chapter today :( there are a few parts i'm still playing with because i wanna get them right, and life's just been too chaotic lately to actually give ch 6 the time and attention it needs. i am hopeful that posting will resume in two weeks and we can get back to the regular update schedule. fingers crossed!

until then, i'm posting the first thousand-ish words of ch 6 under the cut to hopefully hold everyone over until then. (it's unedited and unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.)

enjoy. xx

Ian wakes up in Lip’s dorm room. Again.

The alarm clock is blaring at full volume, and Lip kicks Ian in the shins until he’s conscious enough to reach over and shut it off.

“What fucking time is it?” Lip groans into his pillow.

“Eight-thirty.” Ian yawns.

“I don’t have class ‘til eleven,” Lip says as he pulls his pillow out from under his head and whacks Ian in the face with it.

Ian shoves him off. “Yeah, but I have work at nine.”

That’s part of the reason Ian was able to drag himself away from Mickey’s house last night. He took a cab back to CPU in the middle of the night after he got off Mickey’s block and realized he had to be up in six hours for work. He could’ve stayed at the house and taken the L back to campus in the morning, but he was so wired after his talk with Mickey last night that he used the cab ride to tire himself out.

Which ultimately wasn’t that successful because he spent most of the ride texting Mickey and planning their first date. He even called him as he walked across the green to Lip’s dorm and listened to Mickey’s raspy voice, half asleep and smiling on the other end of the line as they decided on a date and time.

Tonight. Seven o’clock.

“Next time you go to your boyfriend’s house, stay there ‘til the morning,” Lip teases, grabbing his hoodie from the floor and sliding it on over his bedhead.

Ian gave him the one-sentence-summary of his conversation with Mickey when his bleary-eyed brother opened the door for him at two-thirty last night. He did not, in any way, shape, or form, use the word boyfriend, but Lip doesn’t seem to care.

“Yeah yeah,” Ian says with a quiet smile, pulling on a fresh t-shirt he steals from Lip’s dresser. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair tonight.”

Lip reaches over and plucks at the eight-ball design on the front of the threadbare cotton shirt. “You staying at Mickey’s?”

“No,” Ian answers automatically, then pauses. His hands go still where they’re half buried in his backpack. “Well. I don’t know.”

Lip just raises his brows at him as he sits down in his desk chair.

“Is that a normal first date thing?” Ian asks, his brows pinched. “To sleep over?”

“Why are you asking me?” Lip asks, tapping out a cigarette from Ian’s pack.

“’cause you’ve done this shit before.”

Lip cracks the window and lights up. “Only one of us has dated Mickey Milkovich before, and it wasn’t me.”

Ian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but…” He shakes his head. “You know, Mickey and I never went on dates.”

Lip pauses. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Ian says, shrugging. “And I wanna do this right. I don’t know what the… etiquette is.”

Lip takes a long drag and sort of tilts his head from side to side. “I doubt Mickey does either.”

Something about that settles the little ball of anxiety that was slowly starting to build in Ian’s chest. Because Lip’s right—neither of them know what the hell they’re doing with this shit.

Whether that’s good or bad remains to be seen, but at least it puts them on an even playing field.

“Look,” Lip says, leaning over and clapping Ian on the shoulder. “Just feel it out. If things are going well, maybe suggest it, see what he says.”

Ian nods. “Yeah.”

Lip squeezes his shoulder. “Just talk to him about it. Okay?” He leans back in his chair. “It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” Ian breathes out a long exhale. “Okay.”

The panicked nerves inside of him start to turn into an excited buzz after a minute. He’s definitely still nervous, but it doesn’t feel as heavy. Suddenly he desperately wants it to be seven o’clock, and he’s walking over to the Alibi to pick Mickey up for their date.

The fact that Ian has to work an eight-hour janitorial shift between now and then is criminal.

“You know I’m rooting for you,” Lip starts, “but in the off chance you don’t end up staying at Mickey’s house tonight—are you coming back here?”

“Nah,” Ian tells him, shaking his head. “Figured I’d stay at the house. Last night, and all that.”

“Oh, right,” Lip says. He blinks tiredly, a little dazed. “Forgot about that.”

Ian finishes packing his shit in his bag. “Bank’s coming to change the locks tomorrow.”

Lip taps his fingers against the edge of his desk. “I think I still have some shit in my room. Maybe tomorrow morning… I mean, I have work, but I can probably catch the L early and come home to get it before—”

“I already boxed it up,” Ian tells him, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “I put it with my shit, so you can come get it whenever. Kev and V said we could move our stuff to their place until we figure out where we’re gonna go.”

Lip nods. “Thanks.”

“Yep.”

With a heavy sigh, Lip turns in his chair and opens one of his textbooks, flipping through the pages until he finds the folded sheet of notes he crammed in it yesterday.

“What are you doing?” Ian asks, tying his sneakers. “You said you don’t have class ‘til eleven. Go back to bed.”

“No, I gotta get this done,” Lip says, glancing at the clock. “I won’t have time to do it later, I have a… thing.”

Ian raises a brow. “A thing?”

“Yeah.”

When Lip doesn’t expand on it, Ian crosses his arms over his chest.

“You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t care. What’s your thing?”

Lip sighs. “Alright,” he says, dropping his pencil. “You know that professor I told you about?”

“The one you’re sleeping with?”

Lip nods. “The school board kind of found out about it when this naked picture I took of her leaked online.”

“Jesus Christ, Lip,” Ian says, his mouth dropping open.

“I didn’t leak it,” Lip says, then shakes his head. “Long story—whatever. They know, and now I gotta go to this fucking hearing about it.”

Ian stares at him with worried eyes. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. Can’t they kick you out for this?”

Lip considers it, then shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Ian blinks. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” Lip scrubs his hands over his face. “So now I’ve got that to worry about, and Helene’s career is under fire over something that shouldn’t have been anyone else’s business in the first place.”

Ian’s lips quirk up. “Helene?”

Lip kicks at his knee. “Shut up.”

“You’ve never told me her name before.”

“Yeah, well. That’s when I thought we could keep this whole thing on the down low.”

Ian hums in agreement.

“Anyway,” Lip says, running his finger over the corner of the page in his textbook. “I gotta read this.”

“Yeah, I gotta head out,” Ian says, standing up with his backpack on one shoulder still. “Good luck today.”

Lip waves halfheartedly. “You too.”

Ian makes a confused face as he walks backwards to the door.

Lip smiles. “With your date.”

“Right,” Ian says, and he can’t help but smile too.

“Give Mickey my love.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

...more to come!

[ read from the chapter 1 on ao3 ]

#intwiw #no new chapter today loves my bad :(#i feel really bad about it but #sometimes live is just busy as fuck #anyway #here's a snippet #i'm not the way i was #ask sam

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olgiisworld · 8 months

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My Best Friend // Choi Beomgyu

summary; you're in love with your best friend, Choi Beomgyu, but you can't confess. You spend a nice evening with him skating, and as always, he makes your heart flutter.

Y/n x Beomgyu of Txt, genre: fluff, pure fluff

Word Count; 882.

Warnings; none

note; I hope you enjoy it :). This is an old draft. It's my first time posting on Tumblr, and English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if you spot any mistakes <3

..... .... .... .... .... ..... ..... ..... ..... .....

And the weather was soft, just like him.

His features were like a paint of a brush.. soft yet strongly noticeable. The details of his eyes captured my attention like a trap...

Wish I could take that smile off of my head but I've been thinking about it so much that my stomach automatically spins.

Sitting across the skating court, skateboarders flying around me while I lock my eyes with the sunset, drawing so very delicately the beautiful layers of the shades of it, feeling free of the things I have to do.

My best friend's skating right in front of me, dancing across the detailed scenery behind him. It made everything better. Prettier.

He was pretty.

I sneaked a glance every now and then, assured that he wouldn't see me staring at him, when he focused on his every action just to end up falling down.

But he always tried and it made me smile. I unintentionally smiled while staring, readjusting my position when his hand landed next to mine, his heavy breaths catching my attention.

"Can you give me a hair tie of yours?"

His skin is so light blended with the colors of the sunset, catching my stare 'til it moves to his eyes.

"You should buy your own, you've literally taken every hair tie I own."

He grabs my wrist and fights off my playful punches, managing to take one of my hair ties and tie his long hair into a low ponytail, taking some of it off his neck, feeling the sweet breeze brushing through his skin, smiling lightly at the sensation.

I felt myself blushing while staring at him, and I turned my attention back at my sketching.

"What's you making?"

I grabbed a few colors and proceeded to finish the small drawing before the sun sets completely. I felt his head leaning up on my shoulder, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I turned to look at him, realizing we're too close to each other, nonetheless, he did not flinch a bit.

I stayed looking into his eyes, and he did the exact same thing, unfazed. After a few seconds, he broke a smile and moved back a bit before he laughed it off, grabbing the bottle of his water, opening it while looking in front of him, all those skater girls.

My eyes fell ill in my drawing.

Does he find them beautiful? Am I boring?

Why am I not skating? Why am I sitting here, drawing this stupid picture?

He noticed the sadness in my posture, my back lowering a bit, and he immediately grabbed his camera, capturing the moment in front of him, the beautiful blend of the sunset's shades.

He loves taking pictures. He loves it so much that it's honestly the first thing I think when he comes to my mind. He's always walking around with that camera. It holds so many precious memories of him.

When I looked at him, he wrapped his arm around my neck, pulling me so close, our cheeks touching, when he turned the camera our way.

"What are you doing?!"

"Say cheese!"

The face he made, made me laugh and then, click, a new memory has been saved.

He turned to look at the picture, searching it through the box of his memories, so passionately that it made me smile.

He had so many photos of me, smiling, dancing, eating, crying, laughing. I always hated people taking pictures of me, but I never minded when he did it, 'cause in that case I found it heartwarming that I was in his memories.

He turned to show me the picture and it was so beautiful, I wanted to have it myself, something to stare at every night. Instead, I kept silent and let him have the memory we shared.

He turned it back to himself.

"You look so pretty. Have you noticed that when you smile, your eyes disappear?"

I felt my heart skipping a beat.

"What?"

"Yeah, it's like, you're so happy but you can't see. Look, here."

He moved closer to me, his one hand leaning back to support his body, landing upon mine and his other hand holding the camera full of my pictures, smiling.

I felt myself blushing so hard that he must have noticed.

I brought my hand up to fix my hair, feeling the awkwardness of my blushing spreading through the air.

Him, on the other hand, seemed clueless.

"Do you want to grab a bite?"

I felt the redness fade away when I heard his voice, so I turned back to look at him.

"Sure, I'm starving."

I stood up, grabbing my stuff and wearing my backpack, ready to leave while he was grabbing the skateboard and the camera, holding one of them under his arm and the other around his neck.

"Where are we going?" I asked, kinda confused.

"You'll see, I got something like a 'small date' planned out"

I felt the walls of my heart shattering down when he said 'small date' and I stopped to look at him.

"A what?"

"Be patient love."

He then grabbed my hand, held it tight, and led me to a small adventure, a small date.

That's when I thought..

I have the biggest crush on this man.

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kellyellys-blog · 15 days

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Chapter 1 accurate Sbg high school au reupload!!

Tw: past self harm, vaping, cursing, kinda rude stuff, and depressive stuff.

Aiden's eyes fell droopy as he sat in his desk. The teachers slow talking is not helping either. He tries to hold it together but can't and reaches in his bag carefully for his dab pen...but all he felt was the empty compartment of his bag. Aiden felt his heart almost stop as he rummaged frantically through his bag to find his pen.

After class Ashlyn and Taylor waited beside

Aiden's class until he got out so they could go off to lunch. But Aiden just walked right on by them as he left his class. "Well damn what the hells wrong with him?" Ashlyn turns to Taylor "you're talking to me like I fucking know." The two follow Aiden to his locker

Aiden's basically almost throwing stuff out of his locker trying to find his pen. Ashlyn sighs and decides to just ask him up front "what's wrong this time?" Aiden sets aside the notebook he was tossing to the side "I can't find my dab pen!" Taylor blinks unamused "that's it?" "No taylor that's not it! I fucking need that pen! I cannot go back to self harming!" Aiden takes a few steps back and realizes he was overreacting and takes a few deep breaths.

"...you calm now?" Ashlyn says a little concerned. "Yeah I'm ok..” Ashlyn sighs “good now me and tay will go and try to find your vape..wherever it is.”

She spots Logan walking towards them and yells

"Logan you're watching Aiden til we find his shit!" Logan sighs and smiles "fine it's better than having to finish my essay." "Yeah so make sure he doesn't hurt himself..or others." Aiden chuckles "you sound like my therapist, she's a bitch." Ashlyn lets go of his shoulder. "Call me a bitch again and when I find your pen I'm breaking it" Aiden sighs. Ashlyn and Taylor go off to go find his pen

The two walk the empty halls and try to figure out who could have his pen. "Did he just check his pockets?" "His pants pockets are sown shut" "ugh, I can't believe he lost his pen, like who just leaves their pen somewhere where anyone can take it" "Taylor you don't even vape.." "the girls on the cheer team do and they're dumbasses" "wait you're on the cheer team?" "Yeah I joined like 12 days ago ash keep up." "Ok we're way off topic! Who else here vapes that doenst have a pen?"

Taylor groans and pulls out her phone. "I just asked you-" "yeah I know I'm checking snap." Ashlyn looks slightly confused. "Why?" "Because everyone in the school has a go together and they all post stuff in it. One of em most likely posted about finding a pen or not having one." "Oh, that's honestly genius to check the- wait why am I not in it?!" "Shut up! I just found a lead" Ashlyn lets the subject go but she will come back later.

The two end up seeing a girls story and she has Aiden's pen in the background. They know it's Aiden's cause Aiden's pen is camo colored cause it reminds him of Ashlyn. "Finally, let's go confront the bitch where's her class?" "If I remember correctly from the background that's the photo lab in the photography class."

When the two get to the photography class they knock but Ashlyn walks past the teacher as Taylor excuses her and follows Ashlyn. When they get to the girls seat Ashlyn speaks first. "Where's his pen?" "Who's pen?" Taylor speaks up "you know who's, aidens" the girl acts confused. "Oh? I have no idea who that is and I don't vape." Ashlyn groans, she doesn't wanna be here all the day "well he has herpes so-" and before she can finish the girl screams and gets up as she gags. "WHAT?!? OMG WHAT THE FUCK!!" The girl runs out of the room in tears. "Well shit...let's get the pen and go" Taylor speaks calmly as ash finds the pen in the girls desk and they leave.

"Does he really have..?" "Of course not I'd kill myself if he did." Taylor lets out a sigh and stretches. The lunch bell rings and the two look at each other. "Fuck Aiden?" "Fuck Aiden."

At the end of the day they all meet at Aiden's car and Ashlyn gives him his pen. "Thanks ash! Love you." He goes into hug her. "I missed lunch because of your dumb pen but..it's fine I guess." Aiden messed with her bangs “how about we go get raising canes?” Ashlyn smiles and lets out a soft chuckle “yeah that sounds good.” She reaches in her pocket and tosses her jeep keys to Taylor. “You can drive right?” She asks as she blinks at Taylor. “Legally, no. Skill wise fuck yeah.” Ashlyn sighs “good enough.” Ashlyn and Aiden walk off to Aiden’s car as Taylor and Ben head to Ashlyn’s jeep and Logan and Tyler go to Tyler’s car.

#sbg #sbg (webtoon)#sbg taylor #school bus graveyard #ashlyn sbg #sbg tyler #aiden sbg #ao3 reupload #kells #taylor hernandez #tyler hernandez #ben clark sbg #aiden clark #logan sbg #logan fields

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mx-julien · 2 months

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Zane is curious to a fault and that's my favorite flaw. refined version of this rough fic post from three years ago. now posted on ao3

Zane gets taken prisoner by the Mechanic. Nya and Cole are on the way, but will they get there in time? And why Zane?

CW: threats of robot violence (not carried out), canon-typical violence (people get beat up and walk away with a bruise or two)

///

Gray is called neutral for a reason. It doesn't offend any of the other colors. Not with red plastic wire jackets or the gold wiring inside, cradled by unpolished titanium plates. The only real light Zane has is falling onto the concrete floor and stretches up to his chest. Someone removed a Monopoly box-sized rectangle from the door and stuck wrought iron in. It's a far cry from the smooth round bars installed in Kryptarium. They should rethink calling him "Most Valuable Prisoner" if these are the conditions they put important people in.

Zane would halfheartedly kick at a rock, but all of his motors are shot except for the ones on his neck, abdomen, and right are. Also, there are no rocks nearby, so he lies there, half propped against a wall. His left arm is detached and strewn to the side of the cell in the corner.

The slivers of light are disturbed by a silhouette wearing a bowl hat. In a few moments, the door is open and The Mechanic stands inscribed in a rectangle of light that crawls towards the inside of Zane's cell, "Little nindroid," he leans in, keys jangling on his hip, "Don't count yourself lucky 'cause I'm not leavin' any time soon."

After a moment to process the double negative, Zane tries to right his head and gets about 70% there. His vision is still tilted slightly to the left. "You're the unlucky one," an exposed motor audibly whirs when he speaks. One good arm helps push his back further up the wall in an effort to look like he's sitting rather than considerably incapacitated. "And an idiot on top of that," he looks pointedly around the room, "Or did you not realize that you led us straight to your base?" Zane looks the mechanic in the one good eye he has.

He just laughs, "Like you'll ever make it back to tell 'em!" The clanging of loose gears punctuates every heave of his leather-clad chest.

Someone from behind yells, "Yeah!" and pumps a fist into the air while another curls one hand into a fist and hits it against their palm as an ode of what's to come. Oh joy.

Squinting, Zane can make out three goons of various sizes past the doorway. All of them are wearing tattered leather jackets and ripped acid wash jeans. Idly, he wonders if their 'Henchmen from an 80s movie' outfits come out of their paycheck or the boss'.

The Mechanic turns and screeches for them to be quiet.

Then he searches a large, and horribly inconvenient, key ring. After what feels like ages, he clips a particular key to his belt.

He sets his eyes on Zane and begins to creep forward into the cell, "You're going to give me that capacitor real nice like," he motions his hands in a 'come come' manner that Zane discovers he finds incredibly demeaning, "Or I'm gonna take you apart 'til I find it like the Good 'Ol Mechanic I am." He crouches, still out of arm's reach but too close for any semblance of comfort, "Like I've wanted to for so long. You get me?" Grinning, he shows off teeth adorned with gold and silver. Either he lacks dental hygiene or fancies the look of grillz.

The metal piece replacing his eye has a few lights in it that stare at Zane like they're expecting him to blink first. "We destroyed it-" narrowing his eyes before scoffing, "Do you really think we'd keep around a novel compact device capable of holding that much electricity?"

"No," The Mechanic stands up to full height and walks backwards to lean back on the cell wall, "I think you," he points at Zane, "Are curious enough to want it around to tinker with - to figure out all its little secrets and whatnot." A pause. "But smart enough to know that your other little friends wouldn't agree." He takes out a cigarette and flicks his lighter, illuminating the dank room. It is summarily snuffed out after serving its purpose; the butt of the cigarette glows a dark red. "You either have it or you know where it is." He draws in a breath and lets the smoke trickle out through his mustache.

Zane feels a tangible sense of checkmate as he sees the ash fall between oily human fingers. But it's not over yet. "Fine," he raises his head the last several degrees to straighten it fully, "But if I don't tell you where it is, how is taking me apart going to help? You'll never find it if I'm not intact."

"Tell it to me now," he shuts the door, letting it clang so loud it makes the tallest henchman flinch, "And you won't have to see me rilflin' 'round that chest of yours to see where the memory stick's at." He pulls a pair of foot-long pliers out of his toolbelt, wearing a smile that borders on the side of deranged.

This is Zane's own fault and he's fully aware that he deserves what's coming to him. But he can't help feeling relief when a door down the hallway is kicked in and "Hands off the nindroid!" echoes through the room.

The goons spring to their feet just in time for Nya to incapacitate the shortest one and trip the gangliest member against a wall. It's enough to keep her occupied that a woman with blond, curly hair puts her arms around Nya's neck in a choke hold. Out of reflex, Zane tries to move his left arm to grab a shuriken, only to be greeted by sparks that jump to the ground and fizzle out.

Nya widens her stance and attempts to flip her assailant onto the person slumped against the nearby wall. When the taller goon flips open a switchblade, she reconsiders just long enough for the Mechanic to make it over and brandish his brass knuckles. Stopped in her tracks, Nya lifts the feet of her attacker from behind just long enough to spin around and jerk backwards to smash the Mechanic into a wall.

She's not pay attention to the person with the knife. They've stood up and are mid-lunge when Cole barrels through the hallway, knocking the wind out of them and leaving them gasping for air on the floor. Nya still has an arm around her neck, but the woman attacking her is dazed. Cole grabs one of her arms, letting Nya twist out of the way. She snatches a pair of handcuffs from the henchman's belt, securing the woman's hands behind her back and around a table leg. Cole was checking the pulses of the other knocked out henchmen, so he didn't notice who had gone missing.

"Damn hard to find good help these days," not to be forgotten, the Mechanic quickly locks he cell door behind him and throws the keys across the room, coming to rest near what used to be the Zane's left elbow, "Oh well," his other hand grabs wire cutters out of an inner coat pocket, "Guess we'll have an audience, eh, nindroid?"

"Shit!"

He takes only two steps closer before the door groans and bends behind him. The Mechanic spins around, shocked. Nya chooses that moment to walk through the new opening in the concrete, drag him a few feet closer to her by grabbing his shirt, then punch his lights out.

Cole watches it happen, a few of his locs obscuring an eye, while he's still holding the door in his hands. Almost regarding it as a seasoned debate student would his notes. He promptly throws it aside after his eyes land on Zane's, rather dishevelled look.

"Hey buddy," he bends down at Zane's right side, putting a hand on his back so it's easier to sit, "Not looking too hot," he scans the room, finally able to process the extent of the damage, "What the hell did they do to you?"

"They tore that arm off," he uses his head to gesture to it, as if there are some other remains of a titanium android's arm lying around in close proximity, "And then it joined me as I was pushed off a building." Zane puts a hand on Cole's shoulder, "But I gathered what I could of it and I'm okay. All the important things are intact."

Finished with tying up the Mechanic, Nya walks in and surveys the damage she, Jay, and Pixal will have to repair, "What did they want from you, anyways?" She takes off her gi to use as a makeshift bag to hold the large arm plates she's picking up, "They seemed to specifically go after you once they regrouped."

Zane's lifted into the air, his legs uneven; the right side showing too many wires to be fully intact inside and the other being so crumpled it became an inch shorter. Cole's supporting all of his weight, one arm gripping the area where an arm used to be and his right holding on to the metallic one that's slung around his shoulders.

"The capacitor from last week."

"What about it?" Cole shuffles sideways through the opening so Zane's legs don't catch, "But you destroyed it a few days ago? Why'd they think- don't tell me you-"

Pointedly, Zane looks the hallway, admiring the bent door and its handle laying on the floor. Nya stands up, gi in hand, and leaves the cell, putting her free hand on her hip and sighing, "Zane. This is why we get rid of those things in the first place."

He waits a beat, feeling the eyes of his disappointed friends. Much Zane's body may be broken but his pride is in perfect working condition. They just didn't understand, clearly. "It stores energy so much more efficiently than anything we have developed right now. We don't even know if it's the design or the materials or-"

"Or what?" Cole readjusts his grip on him, making the loose pieces in his legs rattle and scrape together, "It could be important, sure, but is it worth it to get captured again? Damn it, Zane, we can't afford to worry about someone going missing or another burnt down monastery!"

"I-" the nindroid lets his head hang, giving him a clear view of the wreckage that is his lower half. His voice gets quieter, "There was some... collateral damage I hadn't fully taken into account."

After a few moments of silence, Nya gets out her phone to call the commissioner. His limp body is dragged out anther door and up several flights of spiral stone stairs onto the roof. Zane's set down against an air conditioning unit, propped up like a favorite tea time doll.

Cole sits down to his right, holding his one good hand. He takes the other to push hair out of his eyes. Taking a deep breath in, he methodically exhales after almost exactly ten seconds.

A full minute later, Cole tries to speak, "Just-" he turns his head to look away from Zane, to where the Bounty will presumably dock soon. "We can always get you one from Borg: the guy has everything," he squeezes his hand, "Except- except you. We only have one of you, and I'd like to keep this Zane in one piece."

There was no use pointing out that Borg does not have what he's looking for. "I'll..." letting his voice box draw out the word, he leans forward a little, catching Cole's eye, "restrain myself - in the future, that is - when it comes to things like this."

Cole just nods, accepting the apology as one might tuck a missing letter into their pocket.

Zane's not forgiven yet, just understood.

Nya comes up after not much longer and sits where his left arm would usually be when it's not shattered into pieces.

Soon, the Bounty will descend out of the clouds, but right now it's tranquil. Zane closes his eyes, shutting off visual sensors and allowing his head to rest on the AC unit behind them. If he sits here long enough, he just might forget how damaged his legs are.

And how the capacitor sitting right next to his heart has never felt heavier.

~*~

set in a "vaguely after s8" timeline and Some General Robot Gore, but none of the End Of The Season Plot things. wanted to treat myself a little bit because I love underexplored character flaws and broken robots.

lmk if you want another chapter on the team's POV or the bit leading up to Zane's capture; or just throw me a prompt in my asks

#ninjago #zane julien #cole brookstone #nya smith #ninjago mechanic #the mechanic #ninjago headcanons #ninjago fanfiction #robot gore kind of #lego ninjago #zangst kind of #LRGwritesthings #happy ending don't worry #cw threats #cw minor violence #POSTED THIS TO THE WRONG BLOG TWICE IN A ROW #I HATE EVERYTHING

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