#can y'all tell that red is my favorite color too?

[theredengineapologist]

If I had a nickel for every time I had a favorite character who decided to make liking the color red their entire personality, and then I decided to imitate some of their character traits in hopes of boosting my own self confidence, I would have two nickels...

Which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

#ttte shitpost #black butler shitpost #shitpost #ttte #black butler #thomas and friends #thomas the tank engine #ttte james #james the red engine #grell sutcliff #can y'all tell that red is my favorite color too? #anyway love me some flamboyant red queens <3 #redengineposts #queue queue b*tches

[kairiscorner]

✧˚ · . just friends with suguru getou.

🍰 genre: fluff !!

✒️ word count: 924

💭 summary: you both swear, you're just friends... but friends don't know the way you like to be held, how to make you feel butterflies in your stomach, do they?

💗 special mentions: @moonswolfie @xoxo-cha

🍥 author's note: y'all i can fix him i swear (i didn't know how to end it so i'm sorry if it ain't good enough 💔)

as suguru lay on his bed in the dormitory, silently reading a book, you figured things were too quiet for such a fleeting weekend. you decided to engage in your favorite pastime: annoying the hell out of him. you kept whining how boring today was, how there was nothing to do; how much you wanted to go to the nearest amusement park or arcade and just drag him everywhere. this kind of pestering would usually annoy someone else, but suguru wasn't just someone else to you; sure he was your friend, but... there was a sort of unspoken connection between you two; an invisible boundary you both step over time and time again, but never fully discuss about. you both pretended as though nothing's more than just friendly between you two, that those little touches and gestures you both do for each other—all the tolerance and fondness you two have built up towards each other is nothing more than a friendly relationship. nothing more than that, definitely not.

the boy chuckles as he looks over at you from behind his book, a sweet smirk dancing on his lips. "bored?" "extremely." your childish groan of a response elicits a laugh from the boy, forcing him to sit up and put his book away. "well... what do you want to do?" he asks you in a hushed whisper, his hazelnut colored eyes and darling grin making you feel hot in the face as you stared back at him while you lay down on your back, with his upside down image in your eyes stifling a chuckle at how cute you looked.

"keep looking at me all cutely and i might forget we're friends." he jokes as he lies back down on his back, teasingly placing one leg over your stomach, making you whine again. "sugu!" you exclaim in faux annoyance. "what, my lovely? am i too heavy?" he teases, knowing full well how you like being teased like this, and believe it or not... he likes it a lot, too. his smirk widens as he places his other leg on your stomach, crossing his legs and squishing you. "so tiny..." he mumbles under his breath as you pout, trying to push his legs off while he, in all his classy douchebag fashion, effortlessly pushes his legs back down onto your stomach, chuckling at your futile resistance.

"you're an asshole, sugu..." "i'll take that, you know satoru can't be the only asshole to you." he quipped, making you furrow your eyebrows in false frustration the minute you got out of his legs' grasp. you lay down next to him on his bed, placing your arms on his chest in an effort to push him back down onto the bed to lie down with you. "yeah, he's an ass, but... you're a weirdly special kind of asshole." you mutter in a hushed, sentimental tone. suguru gives a small snort at that, smiling wider. "so, i have the nicer ass?" "not like that!" you exclaim, playfully hitting his chest, making him laugh harder. "sure... if you were to choose between us, though, who'd be your pick?" he asked you with a sly voice. his question was quite vague, really, so you held off answering by telling him so. "too vague?" he repeats, sneakily wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest.

"fine, uh... if you were to be... in a relationship with either of us... who would you pi—" "neither of you." you say in a sweet tone, smiling all innocently to seal the deal. suguru looked at you with a sort of surprised expression, was he getting mixed signals from you all this time? was he being too presumptuous of your feelings for him? for a split second, his cheeks are tinted with a slight shade of red, and he utters something under his breath that you couldn't make out.

you look up into his eyes and poke his cheek. "why? why'd you ask?" suguru stayed silent for a few seconds, formulating a made up excuse in his head, but only a small chuckle escaped his sweet lips. "i just, um... thought you'd choose him because of how close you two are." "ugh, nah, he's cool but also such a maniac sometimes." now that makes suguru laugh heartily, you can't remember when he's laughed like this before. "really? a maniac? as if you aren't?" "you're more maniacal than me, suguru getou." "i guess i am, because... i think you're more than just my friend sometimes." he whispers, looking at your face in such an ethereal way; you've never been looked at with such kind, selfless eyes before, that held nothing but pure adoration for you in them.

he tries to shift the topic immediately with some small talk that you couldn't care less about, but you wanted to keep him pinned right then and there about his confession—so you took the plunge and kissed him. on his bed. on that lazy, uneventful weekend afternoon that felt like all time had slowed down. your legs were wrapped around his, like how friends do; your hands were on his chest, gripping at his shirt and pulling him closer into the kiss, like how friends do—you pulled away for a second to catch your breath, and with a soft voice that only he could hear... you uttered those words he never dreamed of hearing would come from you, because he never felt that it was possible.

"i love you, suguru."

like how friends do.

#suguru geto #getou suguru #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x y/n #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #getou x reader #jjk getou #jujutsu geto #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x gn!reader

[foibles-fables]

happy aloy day y'all

this might be Thee Most Unpolished piece of writing I've ever shared, and it's got me a little bit nervy, but. I wanted to get something out for Aloy Day. I'm nowhere near satisfied with it, but I also wanna post about Talisah more than ever, so please enjoy this lil scribble?! Happy April 4th babeeeyyy

It’s not until years and years later that Aloy can be shaken from slumber without snarling and thrashing to defend herself. 

But Aloy survives. She fights, she mourns, she grows. Those years do pass—one and then another, step after step, a blur—like a slow walk that breaks gradually, seamlessly, into a run. Wounds heal where you can see them and where you can’t. Scarred, but always reaching for the light, she lets go, and lets herself begin to flourish.

And today (years and years, they echo behind her), she wakes calmly to a weight scrambling onto the bed and a quick jostle of her shoulder.

It’s past the time when she usually rises. Slowly, she coaxes her eyes open, squinting against the bold Meridian sun streaming in through the bedroom windows. As her vision clears, it settles on another pair of eyes, intent and bright, hovering very close. 

It’s the same amber gaze she’s grown used to waking up beside, reprised on a small face that Aloy knows is half her own—even if most couldn’t tell from a single glance.

Talisah, three years old and bursting with every bit of its energetic willfulness, leans in and speaks a little too loudly for the distance.

“It’s morning, momma.”

Aloy blinks hard and reels back from the near-shout with a soft, surprised laugh. Voice scratchy with oversleep, she says, “So it is, girl.” By habit, she lifts her finger to tap her daughter’s nose—Talisah scrunches her freckle-dusted face into a grin. It’s Talanah’s smile, through and through. “How come you’re waking me?”

She says, “For your birthday,” and Aloy feigns cluelessness. 

“Today’s my birthday?”

Talisah nods eagerly, scooting closer on her knees to crowd against Aloy. “Mama said.”

Aloy shifts to sit upright, pretending to ponder that for a moment. “Well. If mama said that, it must be true.” She gives the girl a big shrug. “I guess it’s my birthday.”

Satisfied with the concession and clearly raring to move on, Talisah retrieves a leaf of parchment from behind her and all but shoves it into Aloy’s face. “Here. Look!”

Once Aloy gets it held at a more suitable distance, the childlike and colorful pigment markings on the page take shape. Vivid blue sky, dazzling yellow sun (of course). A herd of four-legged machines grazes in a field full of sunflowers and the purple-petaled stems they keep in vases around their home. Among them stand four smiling human figures: three large, one small. 

And even though Aloy’s fairly sure she’s understood the concept, she asks anyway.

“This is so nice, Lis. Did you make it for me?” Talisah nods again, beaming. A few pieces of hair fall astray from her messy little tie-up. Aloy tucks them behind her ear. “Will you tell me about it?”

“It’s Grazers,” Talisah explains, nestling easily into the crook of Aloy’s elbow. She has grown so much, but she feels so warm and still fits just right. A crucial part of the new whole. “And us, petting them.” Of course. Putting her hands on any machine is her absolute favorite thing to do, in spite of Talanah’s cautious concern. “See momma, there’s Aunt Milu—” (she points at the tallest, broadest figure, scribbled in green) “—mama—” (long hair, tied back, holding a bow) “—you—” (red braids and a spear) “ —and me.” 

Her own smaller shape is standing closest to the Grazers, connected to Aloy’s at the hand.

And for the umpteenth time in three years, Aloy thinks of how unfathomable and effortless it is to love and to be loved this fiercely. Throat full of embers, she presses a kiss into Talisah’s silky black hair.

“I love this, little one,” she murmurs. “Is it alright if I keep it with me? In one of my pouches?”

“Yeah!” Talisah replies, puffed up with pride, snuggling closer into Aloy’s side. “Don’t rip it, please.”

“You have my word,” Aloy swears. Then, a thought strikes her. She contemplates the drawing again, trying to find what's missing. “Hey, hold on. What about Aunt Beta?”

Without missing a beat, Talisah points to another figure Aloy hadn’t noticed before—sitting a few paces away from the group in the shade of a boulder. “Got sunburn.”

Incredible. Aloy snorts out loud, imagining how Beta’s face will look when she sees it later. “That sounds about right.”

Talisah looks up at Aloy through her long lashes, expression as hopeful as any three-year-old’s could be. “Good birthday, momma?”

Truth be told, Aloy has celebrated very few of them. She’s only known when it actually is for less than a third of her life, and let it be known to others for an even smaller share. It’s always come and gone as a quiet turn of the world—she’s surrounded herself with people who understand why she prefers that, without needing to ask.

But with Talisah, that changed. She reflects her own contagious joy outwards, with no reason not to. A traditional Carja birthday celebration is her only context, and all comparisons are still simple. If for her, why not for everyone else?

And it still feels uncomfortable to acknowledge for Aloy her importance and worth for its own sake—to separate herself from the role she was given, and the ghost whose footsteps she followed. But the years have helped, and maybe it’s never supposed to be completely comfortable to untangle yourself from what’s laid out behind you. Maybe the point is to keep walking on through the rawness of it, and to keep trying.

Aloy looks down at the watchful child in her arms and tries. 

(She makes trying easy.)

“The best,” Aloy says, and means it. She lays a gentle palm on Talisah’s clean-scrubbed cheek. “Do you remember what the Nora do on their birthdays?” Talisah shakes her head, and her brow furrows in reflexive concentration, ready and eager to devour every new bit of information she is offered. “They spend the whole day celebrating their mothers. Would you like that? Giving mama and me gifts on your birthday?”

“Yes,” Talisah answers without hesitation. Then, less than a heartbeat later, with quiet uncertainty: “Would I still get mine?”

Aloy chuckles, rolling her eyes. Talisah’s life is full of safety and an abundance of affection, spoken and unspoken alike. Aloy would accept nothing less. “Of course you would, girl.”

For a moment, Talisah looks assured. Then she gives Aloy another thoughtful frown, a curious glint lighting her gaze.

“What about Elisabet, today?” she asks, sparking a connection between what she knows and the small ways she’s heard that story told. Someday Aloy will tell her the rest. “Your momma.”

It’s a marvel how smart she is. How quickly she cuts to the center of questions Aloy avoids asking herself. 

There’s an ache that comes with it, now. A flare of awareness—an old emptiness that no amount of longing ever could have filled. 

But where some parts linger empty, others run overfull. That, Aloy has learned, can be its own kind of wholeness. Words from long ago, in a voice that sounds like her own, resound gently into the present—into this world of Elisabet’s vision and Aloy’s fulfillment, the only world Talisah has ever known. 

(I would have wanted—her, to be…)

“I think Elisabet would want us to celebrate by going to see some Grazers.”

Talisah almost quivers with abrupt excitement, eyes wide and sparkling. Her hand slips into Aloy’s, gentle and warm. “Can we? Please?”

“We’ll ask mama.” Aloy gives her a reassuring squeeze. “Is she making breakfast? I hope so. I’m hungry.”

“Maize cakes. With honey and peaches.”

“Our favorite.” Aloy smiles and kisses Talisah’s head again. Then she sets the parchment aside and wraps her little daughter into a tight hug. “Thank you for my gift, Lis. I’m going to look at it all the time.” 

(It’s the truth. She will, and she’ll remember this morning.)

Talisah hugs her back, clinging to the soft-worn linen of Aloy’s shirt and burying her face against her chest. “Love you momma.”

Aloy’s heart swells—in that moment, like always, it’s enough to overwhelm every empty space she has ever felt or begun to forget.

“Wherever you go,” she whispers, a promise she’s made every day since Talisah came red-faced and screaming into this new and hopeful world, “I will follow.”

They lie cuddled close and quiet and content in the sunlight until Talanah calls them for breakfast.

Years and years ago, everything came open for this—this is the future that was worth fighting for.

#giving myself permission to write badly #aloy #horizon zero dawn #horizon forbidden west #aloy x talanah #talisah khane padish #hawk and thrush fankid #foibles_fables

[lillianasrose]

For that one Anon... Hope you enjoy 🤷🏼‍♀️.

Lemme know if y'all want a steamier Part 2. ;)

Billy H x Female ADHD!reader.

Warnings: Cursing and some hot and heavy content that hints at sexual themes... Minors do not interact.

Hotrod Cinderella

Max owed him, big time.

"This is stupid." He told her, the redhead rolled her eyes.

"Like you had anything better to do? Go mingle or something, Robin's here." Billy liked Robin, referred to her as 'The geeky band chic' but he actually liked her.

So he shrugged and went off to find his favorite person in Max's friend group. She was off in a corner talking to another girl.

"I'm telling you it was like twenty feet hi-" WAP. In all honesty he had been hit harder and most likely the blood wasn't even her fault, he had already gotten into a fight that day and his lip was already kind of swollen. She turned quickly her EC eyes widening, Billy's heart skipped, she was pretty. Robin was giggling into her cup and this girl was staring up at him in shock. Her eyes shifted around the room as people started looking their way.

She grabbed him by his belt and yanked him into the closest room, screw pretty this girl was fucking hot. Billy sat on the sink of the bathroom she had yanked him in.

"I am so so sorry. I-I talk too much and I definitely didn't mean to hit you." She flattened against the door. Suddenly she rushed toward him and he spread his legs apart as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Add sexy to the list, this girl was fucking sexy. She pulled the cabinet open digging around. A first aid kit was thrust into his hand and she used his thigh to stand up. "I ramble a lot and I talk with my hands," she popped up the first aid kit, "I've almost hit Steve in the dick before... Everyone knows not to stand too close.

"Really don't sweat it, it doesn't even hurt." He winced at the end as she lightly dabbed at the cut with disinfectant.

"It doesn't?" She teased smirking.

"Might sting a little." He admonished, sneaking a hand on to her hip. "Will you kiss it better?"

"No." Billy pouted at her.

"I think kissing it better is the least you could do." He told her.

"Is it?" She asked, "The least I could do." She scoffed.

"Especially since you caused it." Billy reiterated. She hopped up slightly on her toes pressing her soft plush lips against the corner of his and then she was gone.

xXx

Billy got back into his car. Coming to Family Video was definitely a mistake.

Robin was sworn to secrecy and Steve was just a dick.

"If I were looking for her, I would check in with the boys and Max at the arcade on Thursdays." Robin whispered to him.

This Thursday they didn't go to the Arcade. Except Dustin.

The kid yelped as Billy snatched him. He pinned him against the side wall

"Whose your hot friend?"

"Steve..?" The kid said immediately. Billy rolled his eyes.

"The chic."

"Robin?"

"No, I know who Robin is. The other one." The kid looked suspicious.

"Ma-" He hit the back of his head.

"Are you stupid or something Amigo. Not. Maxine. The girl with the (color) eyes."

"OH! YN! Yeah she's great isn't she. I heard she bitch slapped you like a d-"

"Kid shut the fuck up. Where can I find her?"

xXx

"YN!" Your Aunt Vera rushed into the back office, "Customer. Young customer, go work your magic." You headed out into the lot in the summer heat. The heels on your boots clacked against the hot pavement carrying you toward the blonde man with broad shoulders leaning into the front of a Corvette.

"It's the new '86 Stingray model," You crossed your hands behind your back, sticking out your chest. "I have to admit not the sex-" he stood, turning to face you fully. It was that boy from the party, the right side of his lip still slightly puffy and red, "Sexiest body on a newer model car but some love the look."

"What would you recommend?" He smirked popping his gum.

'We have a lovely, bright cherry red, 1986 Ferrari Testarossa Straman. One of only twelve that were made convertible." You smirked back at him, "And I'm not just pushing it because I get to be the one to go with you to take it for a test drive." He leaned against the shitty Corvette.

"Sounds like fun."

"I'll get the keys, you head on in there and sign some paper work with the greasy man at the counter, and I'll meet you back out front with the car." You promised him, "Oh! If he asks, tell him you're taking the Pinto, the Ferrari isn't exactly supposed to be taken for test drives."

Billy sighed, stepping out of the building to the most beautiful thing. You. You were leaned up against the car, twirling the keys around your finger while you spied someone else walking through the rows of sports cars with a soft smile on your face. You turned to look at him, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head.

"Heavenly?" You asked indicating to the car under your firm ass. Billy cocked his head.

"Dress you in a skimpy bikini and you'd put the girls in Sports Illustrated to shame." You laughed loudly tossing him the keys. "Too strong?"

"There is nothing you could say that is creepier than some of the things these old men tell me." You promised him. Billy jumped in, driving slowly just until he could no longer be seen by the car dealership before revving the car twice loudly and taking off down the long country road. You laughed happily holding tightly to his thigh.

"Am I scaring you?" He asked loudly over the wind. You turned your head to him smirking as you pressed on his leg, pushing it harder into the gas pedal. You leaned into him

"Faster." You sighed into his ear.

"I'm Billy. Billy Hargrove." He groaned back at you.

"YN." You purred.

Maybe Max didn't owe him that much. Maybe he owed her just a little bit.

You closed your eyes turning your face into the sun.

A lot. He owed Max a lot for dragging him along to that stupid party. She pushed on his chin.

"Watch the road, not me." She scolded lightly.

"How much is this anyways?"

"This car? It isn't for sale, it's mine." She was smiling lazily at him, "Your lip healed up ok."

"So this is how you got away from me so fast, Cinderella."

"Didn't you see the clouds of dirt I left behind so you could come find me?" She asked. Billy smiled.

Let it be known, Billy Hargrove's perfect Cinderella drove a fast cherry red hotrod, punches like a man on complete accident, and has the attention span of a gerbil.

#billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x you

[lipstick-stains-girl]

About me!

Hello everyone! Y’all can call me Ellie! Without giving away too many details about me, I would like to tell y'all a little about the girl behind this blog!

First of all, something I want to achieve while I am running this blog is to create a safe space for myself and others. I want to help others, as well as myself, improve their lives!

Moving on from that, and onto myself,

Some of my hobbies include writing, reading, traveling, watching girly movies, journaling, exercising, and of course, blogging!

My favorite colors are purple and cherry red

Pinterest is by far my favorite app and anyone who knows me, knows I'll will find some way to be on it!

I'm a Gemini and I love summer!

I’m currently in Journalism and I plan on starting to learn how to play the Piano soon!

I aspire to be a vet and will be starting a school course that will hopefully help me get into animal care!

I also always have a quote of the day, ( Or rather of the week on here, as I am not sure how often I will be posting) and today's quote is;

“It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.” - Paola Coelho

That's all for now! More post will be coming soon and of course feel free to ask me anything and I will do my best to answer them!

With love,

Ellie

#girl blogger #girl things #Lipstick-Stains-Blog #Lipstickstainblog #life improvement #self love #self help #self improvement #positive mental attitude #self worth #self growth #positivity #positive quotes #dream girl #dream life #self concept #manifesting #manifesation #affirm and persist #it girl #that girl

[pastelroyce]

Getting to know y'all

phwoa got tagged by both @mtreebeardiles and @commander-krios for this one ty ty mwah mwah

i'll skip the tags this time but if you see this and want to play just say i tagged you (i'm enough of a nosy bitch to want to see anyway)

Nickname: Roy!

Sign: Scorpio. Tell me if you're surprised. Please.

Last google search: marvelous designer (a program I've been eyeing for a hot minute)

Song stuck in head: Starlight by Muse

Sleep: with the way my job has been currently, I have to pregame bedtime around 6pm so I can hopefully be asleep by 8, so I can wake up at 2.30 am. It usually never works and I spend my off days sleeping for the most part.

Dream job: I've had a lot of different dream jobs, but if I'm going to be honest I would like to never work another day in my life. Sick of it! But I can't, so maybe something in tech idfk.

Wearing: joggers with a hoodie and tshirt

Favorite song: Currently Unholy by Sam Smith and Kim Petras

Favorite instrument: guuh--

Aesthetic: I love that vaporwave shit, that nostalgic synthwave, night ride whatever the fuck you wanna call it. My normal everyday aesthetic is "I'm in my 30s and I don't care if I'm heading to the 711 in the same clothes i slept in"

Favorite authors: Alexis Hall and Michael J Sullivan are the only ones that come to mind, otherwise I really just read fanfic

Favorite color: Pink and all its variants, reds, blues and purples

Favorite animal sounds: Oh it's so hard to choose. A cat's meow, a bird that knows how to talk. Cicadas, mourning doves. Anything that's not the adult man wail my dog made earlier today.

Last song: according to spotify the last song I was listening to was 1000 Violins by The Cliks

Last series: Dragon Age Absolution.

Random: my bf and I met through tindr and the only reason we actually managed it was because he was too dumb to read the bit where we were 90+ miles away from each other, and I was coming off a four year post breakup depression and was so fucking desperate for someone to take me away from my hometown.

#about me #tag meme

[pinkiepiebones]

Do the ghouls have favorite colors?

"We do, but they haven't got human names. We can perceive, ehhhh, 'auras' or 'midichlorians' or whatever you wanna call it. Some of this, these things that are of such a 'oh, how bland, we are all the same' nature to us ghouls are, as I have perhaps said before, hard to quantify in, y'know, speaking words.

"This all being said, I am more than happy to tell you about my band siblings's favourites, if you're so inclined to be listening!

"Mostly, collectively, their favourite colour is the light that comes off of all y'all at the shows. Ehhhhhh... closet visible to humans approximation I can say is, it's like glitter, but alive, and quite vivid, but not painfully bright. A dazzling, pulsing colour! We ghouls cannot, ehh, create it. We only see it in you. So, good job! You're quite lovely.

"Individually, they of course have differing answers. My mountainous drummer sibling, for instance, is quite fond of the colour of a garden just before the leaves breach the surface and breathe in air. I suppose you could call it the colour of anticipation, eheheheehehe... My watery bassist sibling enjoys the colour of the earth just after an overdue rain. The tall lioness enjoys the colour of remembering a joyous moment- I like that one too, it's kinda this, ehehehe, wiggly glowing in the dark thing. The small lioness likes most the colour of snowfall- not the landed stuff so much, but as it falls, there's a woven sort of, ehhh, dance of colours.... Little Sunshine, perhaps most relatably to you all, says the best colour is the one that comes from music. I say that's cheating since music is nearly infinitely colourful, but I guess "every colour" can be favourite, eheheehh. My big strong Aether sibling loves banana yellow. Kidding!! It is actually most a fan of the colours that shadows leave behind- a brief colour, beyond that of shadow itself. Swiss likes the bubbling, poppy colour that electronics give off. And the ghoul some of y'all call 'Dew' or 'Sodo'... neon red, it says. Huh. I ask, "is this a trick? Are you forgetting the colour of thermal updrafts or abandoned houses or graveyards or sunsets or fossils?" No, Sodo says, I just like neon red. So. I still think it's a trick or a joke, but what do I know? Ehehehehehhh."

"My favourite colour is Copi- Papa's eyes. Errr, the right eye. If I cannot choose from that which brings me lovesickness, then I'll choose the colour of a vinyl record when the needle first touches down on the grooves. Ah! A crackling, stirring from slumber sort of shade!! Eheheehehheh.

"I wish very much y'all could someday see the colours we can see. Maybe a hair dye company will get on it first. Some of y'all have really cool hair colours. Ooh, and tattoos! Those two peoples types, maybe they'll concoct something I can look at and say "oh shit, they bottled the colour my boyfriend turns when he is dreaming!" Or, y'know, whatever."

#ghost bc #spesh answers #spooky ideas #the band ghost #ghost the band #nameless ghouls #my ghouls are just. leetle creechurs.

[secretsolarsystem]

Congratulations on the follower milestone! You know which AU I love 👀 but since I think you have that one already on your eventual wip list then I would love to see a continuation to the last prompt you posted, with Anakin freshly fallen. I just want this sith Obi-Wan to keep being completely possessive over him, maybe you can even mix it with the fancy outfits we've talked about 💕

THE BESTIES HAVE SPOKEN!!!!

thank you so much 🥺 I'm so happy I decided to make a tumblr to get to interact with y'all and make such kind friends like Tomi 💚💚

(also yessss Tomi, that au is next!!!!!! once I finish the batman au, which I WILL be working on today and tomorrow and hopefully after work this week!! NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE OUT SOON I prommy <3)

in the meantime, please enjoy part two to our little Sith!Obi-Wan/Fallen Jedi!Anakin au! (here’s part one) it's pretty dang spicy, and once again has non-graphic depictions of Anakin killing someone <3 such a good sith apprentice <333 and I did my best to include fancy outfits bc that was SUCH a missed opportunity </3 (2.3k)

—

“I thought being your apprentice was going to be more fun,” Anakin pouted, watching Obi-Wan’s reflection as he circled him, eyes hungrily taking in Anakin’s new attire. Obi-Wan had had his tailor come and fashion Anakin a whole new ensemble, consisting of deep reds and blacks at Anakin’s behest. “Anything you want, my dear, you will have,” Obi-Wan had said. 

Well, Anakin didn’t want to be put in a stuffy outfit, but Obi-Wan wanted him to wear it, and he’d do just about anything his master told him to. So here he was, showing his master his black tunic and pants, glossy black boots, and his long cape. He had thought maybe the cape would be too dramatic, but it turned out to be Anakin’s favorite part of the whole ordeal. It was silky, almost as reflective as his boots. The outside of it was black, but as it reached the floor, the color gave way to a deep red in a sort of ombre effect. That deep red made up the inside of the cape, surrounding Anakin’s black silhouette with the color of blood.

He was going for something that would at least look cool, but Anakin had to admit that he looked intimidating, more so than he ever had in his dark Jedi garb. He could imagine the image he’d make with his newly red blade ignited, cape billowing and golden eyes aflame as he set out to do his master’s bidding.

His eyes now looked just like Obi-Wan’s, and that made satisfaction settle deep in Anakin’s bones. Anyone would tell just by looking at them that they were two halves of the same whole. Eyes and lightsabers aside, Obi-Wan’s outfit was the same as Anakin’s with the same blood red details, but where Anakin’s was black Obi-Wan’s was a stark white. He looked imperial in it in a way that set Anakin on fire, made him want to kneel even if that was something he already did for his master. The pure color screamed the man’s confidence; he would not hesitate to spill blood, but he was clean about it. Not a single drop would dare stain his person.

Even though he was still pouting at his master’s reflection, a thrill ran through Anakin as it always did when he had the man’s attention. (It was so much better, now, being able to admit these feelings. Yes, Anakin wanted Obi-Wan to look at him. Yes, Anakin wanted to be with Obi-Wan always. Yes, Anakin was desperate for the man’s hands and mouth and cock and voice. Being able think and feel these things and not fight it was so nice. Being a Sith was so nice.)

(Also, yes, Anakin still supposed that you could resist the Dark and still suck a Sith’s cock, but being a Sith yourself let you feel a lot less guilt about it. Plus, hearing Obi-Wan tell Anakin how pretty the tears were falling from his golden eyes as he choked was was a huge bonus. If the Sith had advertised that aspect of the Dark Side, Anakin would’ve Fallen years ago.)

“Darling,” Obi-Wan tutted, standing behind Anakin and looking over his shoulder. Their eyes met in the mirror and Anakin made his pout more severe, leaning back into Obi-Wan’s strong chest. Yes, I am your darling, he thought. Why must you put your darling in these terrible clothes? “I thought were were having plenty of fun. Are you not satisfied?”

Obi-Wan’s hands came up to go exactly where they belonged: on Anakin. That made Anakin feel a little bit better, settling into the touch, one hand on his hip and the other splayed out over Anakin’s abdomen, Obi-Wan’s little finger dangerously low.

All of Obi-Wan’s touches were like that: greedy, proprietary. Anakin loved it, craved it.

“I just thought you’d be taking me out of my clothes, not putting me into them,” Anakin responded petulantly, shivering as Obi-Wan slowly but surely started moving the hand on Anakin’s stomach even lower. “And then you had to leave me in here to get your own clothes and your tailor put his hands all over me-”

Obi-Wan’s hand stopped and his smile fell, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. Yesyesyesyesyes- “He touched you, darling? Did he touch you where he shouldn’t have?” Obi-Wan’s voice was low, sharp, almost condescending. To anyone else it might have inspired feelings of fear or trepidation, but all Anakin felt was his cock twitch with anticipation.

“Well, I guess it is his job…” Anakin demurred, titling his head down to look at Obi-Wan’s reflection through his lashes. He knew Obi-Wan knew exactly what he was doing, but it didn’t matter. He also knew Obi-Wan would give him what he wanted regardless. His master was good like that.

Obi-Wan pressed himself closer to Anakin’s back. “An occupational hazard, to be sure,” Obi-Wan agreed, nodding. The motion made his beard rub against Anakin’s cheek and it made Anakin melt further into the man. He loved his master’s beard, especially when it was rubbing on his skin. 

“Did he have to measure every inch of you to make these clothes?” Obi-Wan went on. “He must’ve; they fit you perfectly. I’d eat you whole if I could.” Anakin nodded with a whine, both to say yes and to nuzzle against Obi-Wan’s beard again. “Did he brush his fingers on your thighs and your shoulders to make you look this good for me?”

“Yes Master,” Anakin breathed, hissing with pleasure as Obi-Wan’s fingers dug into his hip, sure to leave bruises.

“A shame,” Obi-Wan tsked, the hand on Anakin’s stomach now moving in slow circles that made heat pool low in his groin. He could feel Obi-Wan hardening cock behind him, hips still but pressed close to Anakin’s own. Anakin wanted Obi-Wan to take it out, to press him to the mirror and make Anakin spit in his hand so he could get his cock a least a little wet before sliding inside of him. It would hurt just enough, he was still loose from earlier, it’d be so easy-

“I really did like that tailor, but I can’t let him touch you and live, darling. I just can’t,” Obi-Wan said, and he did a very good job of actually sounding sad about it. He probably did, considering how much he valued presentation. To have to kill the man who made all of his favorite clothes must be a hardship for him, but Anakin would be beyond offended if he did let the tailor do his job of innocently touching Anakin and didn’t kill him for it. 

“Did he touch you here, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, hand finally lowering enough to cup Anakin’s aching cock. Anakin moaned, immediately rocking his hips into the touch and watching with half-lidden eyes as Obi-Wan’s lip twitched into a sneer. “Did you let him touch you here?” It was a warning, a demand for the answer he wanted, needed to hear.

And Anakin was happy to give it to him, happy to whimper and shake his head back and forth, eyes never leaving Obi-Wan’s in the mirror. “No, Master. That’s just for you. I’m just for you,” he vowed.

With a pleased hum, Obi-Wan licked a long, wet stripe from the skin just above Anakin’s stiff collar to behind his ear, pulling back slightly to blow on the wet spot trail he left behind. It made Anakin shiver and try to simultaneously rock forward into Obi-Wan’s hand and backwards onto his cock, something between a keen and a shuddering breath falling from his lips. “Don’t you forget it,” Obi-Wan growled before pulling completely away from Anakin’s body.

Before Anakin could protest the loss and demand he be fucked now, Obi-Wan turned and made for the door. “Come now, my young apprentice. The Count is waiting for us.”

—

Count Dooku was, indeed, waiting for them. Obi-Wan had said it was imperative that Anakin meet his master, because it would be better for Dooku to hear it from them before he found out from someone else that Obi-Wan had taken on an apprentice. That was the main reason for the new clothes; to make Anakin more presentable for the old, rigid man. 

It made Anakin’s lips curl into a sneer, being dressed up for someone other than Obi-Wan. But every time Obi-Wan gave him an appreciative once over with dark eyes, the beast inside of Anakin settled. Dooku was nothing to him but his master’s master. That’s all.

Their conversation had been quite brief, actually. They discussed this glaring violation of the Rule of Two, but Obi-Wan pointed out that his own apprenticeship was as well, seeing as Dooku had a master of his own. Dooku had simply pressed his lips together and sighed harshly through his nose, not denying anything. He even went so far as to commend Obi-Wan for snatching a Jedi – and the Chosen One, no less – for himself. “My master will be most pleased,” Dooku had said cryptically. It almost seemed like Dooku had a soft spot for Obi-Wan, and that alone made Anakin tolerate being in the same room as the older Sith.

Because he did, too. Have a soft spot. For Obi-Wan. (He had a hard one too, that was still feeling pretty neglected after what had happened in the fitting room.)

But then Obi-Wan had sent a single phrase to Anakin through their bond, a sensation that always sent Anakin’s entire nervous system alight with crackling electricity. It always felt like Obi-Wan was taking Anakin’s mind and holding it in the safe cage of his hands until Anakin’s entire being was surrounded by the man. It was the greatest sensation Anakin had ever known, the press of Obi-Wan around him. (Although, the press of Obi-Wan inside of him was a very strong contender.)

Obi-Wan’s voice reverberated throughout Anakin’s mind, three familiar words: Sick ‘em, boy.

Anakin did not need to be told twice. Dooku put up a valiant fight, but he didn’t stand a chance, not when Anakin was fulfilling his master’s wish. Before long, Dooku was knelt before Anakin, kept still by Anakin red blade and Dooku’s own hissing dangerously close to his neck. As much as Anakin wanted to kill Dooku, he waited to hear the command from Obi-Wan.

Anakin watched Dooku watch as Obi-Wan came up to stand behind Anakin much like he had before, pressed closely to Anakin’s back. Though this time, he lifted only one hand, wrapping the fingers loosely around Anakin’s throat. It made Anakin shiver, but his hands was unwavering.

“Something you have taught me, my master,” Obi-Wan said, looking down at Dooku from over Anakin’s shoulder, “is that it is important to have your apprentice properly trained. Loyal, obedient, needing, wanting. You must reward their good behavior, and make sure they see the value of your being their teacher. Make sure they cannot imagine a world without your guiding hand.” The hand on Anakin’s through tightened, and Anakin groaned, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. 

When he opened them again, Dooku’s eyes were wide, his feelings of shock and betrayal bleeding into the Force. “I thank you for your own failure in this, Master,” Obi-Wan continued, “for now I know how to keep my perfect boy here happy, keep him devoted.”

Feeling Dooku’s hopelessness and Obi-Wan’s smugness and hearing Obi-Wan talking about how well trained Anakin was and calling him ‘perfect’ while he had his hand around his neck made satisfaction spread heavily through Anakin’s chest and down to his cock, which was fully hard once again. His master was so clever, he was the best. And he was right – he had Anakin’s loyalty, his obedience. Anakin needed him, wanted him more than anything. He had Anakin, there was no doubt. Obi-Wan would never find himself in Dooku’s position; he was too good to Anakin, and Anakin loved him too much.

Anakin felt as Obi-Wan turned his head, his forehead resting on Anakin’s temple. His breath hit Anakin’s cheek, wet and hot, as he spoke: “I want you to kill him, my dearest one. I want you to kill him so it can be just us, just the two of us. Then we’ll kill his master, and there will be no one but us. That’s what I want, my Anakin. You, and me, and no one else.”

Obi-Wan really didn’t have to say anything else but ‘I want you to kill him’ to get Anakin to do it, but Anakin would never give up the chance to hear him call him sweet names and say such possessive things. Anakin wanted that, too. Just them. That’s all he needed; just Obi-Wan.

It was quick, cutting Dooku’s head off. Almost as quick as Anakin disengaged his lightsaber and whipped his own head around, looking to Obi-Wan with wide eyes. Tell me I’m good. Tell me I did a good job. Tell me you’re so proud of me, that you can’t imagine having anyone but me. Tell me tell me tell me…

“Such a good boy,” Obi-Wan praised, taking his hand off Anakin’s neck to tuck loose curls behind Anakin’s ear before scratching there. He knew it would make Anakin melt into the touch, evident by the crinkles by Obi-Wan’s eyes as he smiled fondly at him. “I think the Force made you just for me. You like being on my leash, don’t you? That’s why you’re still here.”

Anakin whimpered, nodding, staring at Obi-Wan’s lips. “Yes, Master. I like being yours, I’m supposed to be.”

With a satisfied growl, Obi-Wan slipped his hand further into Anakin’s hair and pulled him forward, pressing their lips together. Anakin scrambled to press himself closer, his fingers curling tightly into the man’s clothes. He wondered if this was going to be a habit of theirs, making out next to dead bodies.

Not that Anakin was complaining. Quite the opposite, actually. “Master,” he panted against Obi-Wan’s lips, “Master, please, take me, please.”

Moving to kiss down Anakin’s neck, Obi-Wan hummed in agreement. “You said something about taking you out of these clothes, didn’t you, my darling?”

His master was such a good listener. And kisser. Such a good master, always taking care of Anakin when he needed it. Such a good master.

prompted fic collection

#half the time i wrote 'dooku' i accidentally wrote 'dooky' and cackled for like five minutes #also my laptop kept correcting 'dooku's' to 'doofus' and that also made me cackle for too long #THANK YOOOOU BESTIES i'm glad you liked the first part hehe<33 #i hope this one was just as good!! :D #ask #prompt #my writing #obikin

[oatmealmika]

CALL ME BATSHIT INSANE BUT HERE IN MY IMAGINARY BOYFRIEND WITH THIS ASK MEME (this def ain't a normal person thing y'all what would this illness be called)

❣️ - What are their love languages?

Ren's love languages are quality time and physical touch.

🌙 - What’s their sleep schedule like?

VERY messy

One night, he sleeps like a princess. The next, he stays up all night in a Google rabbithole.

🎁 - How do they feel about their birthday/birthdays in general?

Makes a list of what he wants but doesn't expect all of everything that was there.

🧑‍🦰 - Have they ever dyed their hair? Ever cut it themself?

Never dyed his hair, but he does trim his hair on his own when it gets longer than he likes (over the biceps).

🍷- How do they feel about alcohol?

Can handle fizzy drinks and overall would like the taste of alcohol, but he's very cautious with it and won't drink until he's twenty-one!

🗣️ - How do they handle public speaking?

when it's not performing his music, he's sorta awkward but he can definitely be quite funny while nervous.

🎮 - What’s their favorite game?

TLoZ is his second coming of Christ

💓 - What are some signs they’ve fallen for someone? How do they show their affection?

He's TOO obvious about it honestly. he out here like "yeah the new TLoZ game is awesome and i'd honestly smash you but Link's design is so cool-"

🤡 - What’s something dumb they’re embarrassed about?

That he likes all the shit movies and shows Netflix puts out.

🌱 - Do they have a green thumb or are they a plant killer?

He actually has a green thumb! He didn't know it until recently, but he got a lot of plants after finding out!

📱 - What social media do they use the most?

Probably Pinterest or Tiktok?

Doesn't like the energy on Tiktok, but can deal.

👪 - What’s their relationship with their parents like?

Good! They're chill.

🐒 - What’s their favorite animal?

Dogs! DOGS DOGS DOGS! LOVES DOGS!

🧳 - What countries have they been to?

Has been out to Britain before cuz some family's there, but that's it!

🤔 - What’s something they’ll never understand?

How people can be so mean and judgy to others while the judgers are the most boring people EVER

🎨 - What’s their favorite color?

Sage green

☂️ - How do they feel about rain?

Loves it! Sings in the rain and dances, with me telling him to come back inside.

🎶 - What’s a song they really like?

Hm... He's a very music guy, but recently I introduced him to Reality Club and he loves it!

🖌️ - Do they have any hobbies?

Music. He loves music! He plays bass, but can also play drums (he just prefers bass). He can sing too. Very Thom Yorke sounding.

💤 - What do they absolutely need to have to fall asleep?

Pillows to snuggle! If not, I'll need to be right there.

🎢 - Do they like amusement parks? What’s their favorite ride?

LOVES amusement parks. Enjoys rollarcoasters with big drops, but just can't do loops.

🗺️ - What languages do they speak?

Fluently, only English. Knows a little Spanish, but not much.

🍳 - How well can they cook?

Learning. His most advanced dish is probably steak.

🍪 - How well can they bake?

Bakes by the steps since he can't do it on his own, but it actually is very good! Makes a MEAN red velvet cake!

💘 - What do they find attractive about their partner(s)?

He says he likes how understanding I can be and inteligent (more so philosophically rather than academically).

👗 - How comfortable would they be wearing a skirt or dress?

Eh... Not his kinda deal! He doesn't like the feeling of it hitting his legs.

💝 - What gestures do they really appreciate? How do you get on their good side?

If you match his energy and shares very important view points with him, he can fw you forever!

☕ - Coffee or tea?

Hm... Energy drink

💀 - How do they feel about horror movies?

Loves them! Doesn't really like gore, tho. He's more of a psychological guy, even tho he always claims himself to be stupid.

🧸 - Do they have any stuffed animals? If so, are they decorative or do they sleep with them?

Yes, he does. Has a bunch of pillows he sleeps with, and his stuffed animals sit on the nightstand.

💖 - How and how often do they try to impress their partner(s)? How and how often do their partner(s) impress them?

He tries to impress me VERY often, ex. playing a ridiculous guitar riff (I do end up very impressed). I do too try impressing him (cuz I yearn for attention), and he always delivers in return. He's great at compliments, and really knows how to make someone feel special.

🍽️ - What’s their favorite food?

Spaghetti with red sauce and meatballs!

🧑‍🍼 - How do they feel about kids?

Handles them very well and would like to have one or maybe a few more than that someday.

🐾 - Do they have any pets?

A cat named Minto, a dog named Kurt, and a turtle named Zoro.

💬 - What are some filler/buffer words they use? (Like, um, etc.)

When moving down to California, he got accustomed to using "like" a lot.

🏳️‍🌈 - What do they identify as? What are their pronouns?

Bisexual, leaning towards women. He/Him pronouns.

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 - Do they have any siblings?

Mhm! His older sister Hannah is three years older than him, and his little brother Thomas is five years younger!

🥰 - What pet names do their partner(s) use for them? How flustered do they get by them?

Uses very corny, dumb names. Ex. "Sweetie Pie", "Lemon Cake", "Sweet Tart". I try and mockingly replicate them with "Shit Stain" and stuff like that.

🌳 - What’s their extended family like?

They're mostly all in New York, but there's some in England! He's a quarter British, a quarter Persian, another quarter Mexican, and a final quarter Native American. He has a very diverse family.

#ask meme #imaginary boyfriend #can i get out of school for a while if i get diagnosed with whats wrong with me pls say yes #school starts for me on the 24 and that knowledge is just #TEARING ME APART AND MAKING ME FEEL THE ABSOLUTE SHITTIEST #legit cant go back and i WILL cry on the first day #you already know #crying rn fr help :(

[bishopswriter]

Lucky Pt. 2 (Kate Bishop x Reader)

*Hey everyone! Thanks so much for reading this story! I’m thinking about continuing this Lucky series and doing multiple parts. Also, I did want to clarify that I’m trying my hardest to write this as gender neutral for right now, that way everyone feels represented. Let me know what y'all think! As always, like and comment! I love hearing from you guys!*

@gay-vet-student

@simpforflorencepugh1

@btay3115

@kacka84

The walk was fairly short, which you were grateful for considering how cold it was outside. For the majority of the walk, you and Kate stayed in a comfortable silence. You would occasionally look at each other and smile. That was until you realized how cold Kate seemed to be. She had on jeans and a purple long-sleeve shirt, which was not nearly enough for winter in New York. You realized that Kate may not have been planning on being out in the cold that long, and you immediately felt bad.

“Here, take this,” you stated as you started pulling your hoodie off. You were grateful that you

had decided to bundle up today and wear a zip-up jacket over your hoodie.

“No, no I’m- I’m fine.”

You chuckled, “Kate, I can literally see your teeth chattering. I don’t need it, really. I have this zip-up. Plus, I’m always warm. It’s like a gift or something. Captain America has super strength, and I have a body temperature that’s slightly above average. I mean, personally, I think that qualifies me to be an Avenger.”

Kate grabs the hoodie from you with an appreciative smile, which then turns into a laugh. God, you seriously could not get enough of her laugh. “Yeah, you know, I think that’s what they’re lacking: a person whose body temperature is 100° instead of 98°. You would’ve had Thanos petrified.”

As you approach the place Kate led you to, you grab the door and let her in. She shoots you a smile that makes you stammer as you continue the conversation. “I-I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m gonna say that your favorite Avenger is Hawkeye.”

“You would be correct. What gave it away?” Kate asked with obvious sarcasm.

“Well, I’d say the apparent love for the color purple and the ‘world’s greatest archer’ title that you have given yourself is a pretty clear combo,” you state with a brow raised and a slight smirk.

“Hm, how observant of you,” she states. “Yeah, that’s one of my better qualities,” you reply. Kate quickly stated back, “Along with the modesty?” You were just as quick when you said, “Yes, exactly! Along with the modesty. That’s another great quality of mine.” You both started laughing as you approached the table. It was so refreshing to meet someone who was able to keep up with your wit. It seemed like there wasn’t a single thing you didn’t like about Kate.

When you got to the table, you pulled Kate’s chair out for her and she gave you a pointed look as she sat down. “It seems chivalry is not dead, after all,” Kate said with a slight laugh. You chuckled and replied, “Oh, love, chivalry was never dead to me.” As soon as you said it, you regretted it. It was a complete accident and you didn’t mean to refer to her as “love”. You were in the moment and it just slipped. You were sure your face was red, and you tried to cover it with an awkward laugh. Luckily though, Kate didn’t seem too fazed. A slight blush crept up to her cheeks and she just smiled at you before looking down at her menu. You smiled back, surely blushing 10x harder, and looked down at your menu. The waiter came and took your orders soon after your exchange.

Your coffee came soon, which was your saving grace because your fingers were still numb from the cold. You took a drink and let the warm liquid soothe you. “So, Kate, tell me about yourself. Obviously, you like archery and the color purple. What else do you like?” you asked with genuine curiosity. Kate already seemed so perfect to you and you were dying to know more about the girl who was able to bring down a clock tower with just a bow and arrow.

“Well besides archery, I really enjoy fencing, martial arts, and gymnastics. I always wanted to be like Hawkeye growing up, so I got really good at the stuff that I thought he was good at,” she answered. While she seemed excited to talk about her hero, there was also a hint of sadness that you didn’t understand. “I don’t really hear about very many people who really like Hawkeye, so why do you like him?”

Kate sat on the question for a minute and seemed to be contemplating how to answer it. Finally, she looked at you with a solemn expression and answered. “When the Battle of New York happened, a wall of my parents’ penthouse had been ripped out. I stood there, watching these insanely high tech alien thingies fly through the sky,” she stated as her hands mimicked the flying aliens. One of the things you were growing to really like about Kate was how she was so animated when she talked. It made listening to her effortless. “As I was standing there, I saw one of the aliens flying towards my building. I couldn’t move, when suddenly, I saw an arrow rip through it. And as it fell out of the sky, I saw Hawkeye jumping from a building, using some type of trick arrow to swing into the building. I mean, here was some random dude with no powers - just simple skills- risking his life to save others. My dad always told me that courage and will was all it took to make someone a hero,” she paused. “After he passed away that day, I swore to myself that I was going to be a hero to somebody and make him proud, so I started getting into the hobbies I have now,” she finished. Honestly, you didn’t know what to say. Instinctively, you reached across the table and put your hand over hers, while giving her a soft smile. “I know we basically just met, but I think he’d be proud of the person you are, Kate.” She muttered a “thank you” and turned her hand upwards, giving yours a squeeze.

The food arrived and light hearted conversations with Kate ensued. Just as you both finished eating, Kate’s phone dinged. She checked it and immediately her face grimaced. “Is everything ok?” you asked.

“Yeah, my mom just texted me to ‘politely inform me’ that we’re hosting a ‘soiree’ tonight and that my presence is required,” She stated with a tight lipped smile and rolling eyes.

“A soiree? That sounds fancy,” you say with a small laugh.

Kate huffs and responds, “Unfortunately, they’re super upscale and happen pretty much every week. My mom invites a bunch of clients, and they just drink champagne and talk about their endlessly boring lives.”

“Your mom must be in a good business. What does she do?”

Kate sighed and replied, “She runs Bishop Security.” Wait, if Kate’s mom ran Bishop security then that meant- “Yes, my mom is Eleanor Bishop.” She must’ve seen you putting the pieces together in your head. “Huh, well that would certainly explain why they’re called soirees,” you tried to keep an even voice, even though you were definitely intimidated by the fact that Kate’s family is that well-known.

The waiter eventually returned with the check, which Kate insisted on paying for as a “thank you” for covering for her last night. You both got up and made your way outside. As the cold wind whipped around you, you turned to Kate, about to ask her if she’d like to hang out again. However, she beat you to it: “Y/n, how do you generally feel about soirees?”

Her question caught you off guard but you answered, “Well, considering that I’ve never attended one, I’d say I'm indifferent to them.”

She looks up at you and gives you a pleading smile, and you already know that you’re going to do whatever she asks. “You know, we didn’t really get to talk about your life story, so would you maybe want to go to my mom’s soiree with me tonight and we can talk even more? I know I was just complaining about them, but i promise they’re not that awful, and it’ll be way more bearable if you’re there because there’s never anyone I actually lik-” you knew if you didn’t cut her off now, Kate would continue to ramble until she ran out of breath completely. “Kate,” you laughed and put your hands on her shoulders to stop her from animatedly rambling. “I would be honored to go to your mom’s ‘fancier version of a frat party’ with you.”

She smiled at you with relief and joy evident on her face. Truthfully, you would’ve done anything she wanted to see her smile like that. What happened next though, definitely caught you by surprise. She hugged you, and for a brief second, you forgot that you were actually freezing in the frigid New York City weather. Luckily, your cheeks were already flushed from the cold, so she couldn’t see that you were furiously blushing.

“Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver, seriously. I feel like I need to start keeping a list of all the things I owe you for.” she said as she pulled out of the hug. As soon as she left your embrace, she shivered. “Huh, you really are unusually warm.”

Kate pulled out her phone and handed it to you, “Put your number in and I’ll text you the details for tonight.” You entered your number and handed it back to her. Honestly, your brain had stopped working after she had pulled you in for a hug, so you were just hoping you spelt your name right in the contacts. “Alright, Kate, thanks for the food. I’ll be seeing you tonight then?”

“Yes, definitely! I’ll see you soon y/n!” Kate stated as she turned to leave. You waved goodbye and started walking towards the subway before you heard Kate’s voice yell: “Wait, y/n your hoodie!” You smiled and waved it off, “Keep it! Trust me it looks way better on you.” She blushed and yelled an “I owe you again” before walking off.

When you got on the subway, your phone chimed.

Maybe: Kate

Hey, y/n, it’s Kate! My mom’s soiree starts at 7:00pm tonight. I’m sending you the location. Just remember - it’s formal. Can’t wait to see you tonight!

You

It’s a date. I’ll see you there!

You looked down at your phone and replayed the events of last night and this morning in your head. You were definitely the luckiest person alive right now.

#kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #hailee steinfeld #hailee steinfield x reader #marvel #hawkeye

[ragingbookdragon]

All The Small Things...That Show How Incredibly Pissed She Is

Batboys x Reader HC/Imagine

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Here's some humor for y'all at the end of the semester. Enjoy! -Thorne

Dick:

Dick wasn’t a fool. He might seem like that to some people, certainly anal-retentive supervillains and seasoned superheroes who weren’t particularly impressed by him, but even if he paraded a bit of thick-headedness (Batman’s influence) every now and then, Dick wasn’t a fool. And he sure as hell realized when she was angry at him.

Well, angry wasn’t the particular word. She wasn’t angry, and honestly, in the entire year they’d been dating, he’d yet to see what would even made her fume. But sure as shit, if she didn’t get annoyed at things, and right now, he knew it was at him. And really, the only reason he did realize it was because she didn’t stick a note in the thigh pocket of his suit before he left on patrol.

It was something foolish, she’d said when he came home and asked her about it the first time she did it. A simple little folded paper, the same kind that hung on their refrigerator for the grocery list. All it had said was, “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee—good luck out there, Dickie!”. When he found it, he about busted himself at the seams from laughing so hard, but at the same time, he found it endearing that she had left it for him to find. That had been on a Friday night and every day of the week leading up to it, she put a piece of candy in his pocket, saving Fridays for the little notes. And this Friday he didn’t find a note—he knew she wouldn’t forget, and that was all the clue he needed that she wasn’t happy about something.

And so, to remedy it, he picked up a bottle of red wine and a dozen red roses—sue him he’s a romantic—ready to do whatever she wanted to fix what he’d messed up.

Jason:

He didn’t hate the color pink, but he didn’t wear it unless it was a particular occasion, or unless the shirt he liked was pink. Most of Jason’s outwear wardrobe consisted of black and blue jeans, dark and white shirts, combat boots, and leather jackets. His outfits screamed, “I’m the epitome of ‘Bad-Boy’.” And most of his leather jackets were dark, so he typically wore white or light gray shirts, so it didn’t blend.

They shared chores in the house—he cooked most nights, and she did laundry; they both cleaned the apartment. Jason looked in the dryer for a white shirt because it was white’s day the night before and found a whole load of white shirts that’d been dyed pink. Of course, at first, he thought it perhaps an innocent mistake, but when he pulled the load out and found a single red sock, Jason knew he was in the doghouse.

He pulled on a baby pink shirt and grimaced at how tight it felt on his body—so she was really mad because she must’ve washed these in hot water because they’d shrunk two sizes. The thought of asking what she was mad about crossed his mind, but he figured he’d be better off figuring it out on his own and fixing it rather than having her tell him.

Jason was a grown man; he could figure it out himself—the only bad thing was that Jason, in all his glory, was still a man—and boy did he have trouble telling what his lady was mad about sometimes. Ice-cream, he figured. Dutch Chocolate Ice-cream and bourbon was her go to when she was upset—hopefully, she wouldn’t throw his underwear in the wash before he got back from the store.

Tim:

He’d long grown used to being stared at, considering the fact that when he was a young child, and an academic prodigy at that, people liked to examine him like he was a lab rat. So, at first, her way of communicating that she wasn’t pleased with his course didn’t occur to him. Of course, when he finally turned his attention from his laptop screen and caught her cocked eyebrow and unimpressed look, Tim couldn’t stop the flush of crimson that split over the bridge of his nose as he babbled an apology.

She usually responded with a grunt of recognition, but it was anything but amused or interested. And he’d flash that dopey grin and kiss her knuckles until her eyes filled with humor rather than annoyance. And then he’d go back to his laptop and the process would start all over again when he finally realized she was boring holes in the side of his head.

The only time she wanted to prove she was mad at him was when she’d pull out her phone and do those stupid, “Which Member Of The Batfamily Are You?” and she’d do everything in her power to not get “Red Robin”, typically getting “Red Hood” because she knew it’d make his jealously bubble in his chest.

And then Tim would slam his laptop shut and toss her phone off the bed with it and yank her down onto his bed, coiling his arms and legs around her like a cage, while she giggled relentlessly and teased him about being “green with envy”.

So really, while it usually started with her being mad, it became a “How Much Can We Annoy The Other Before We Blow?” game—she was winning so far…much to his dismay…and love.

Bruce:

His wife was outspoken and independent, not ever once requiring help with any task. If she couldn’t figure it out herself, she’d cut her own foot off before asking him to do it for her, because she knew he took that little pride in doing what she couldn’t. Their marriage was built on a foundation of love, for each other, and for their family. But that third peg was absolutely competition, and by God they were gonna prove who was the winner before they both died of old age.

So, whenever she got mad at him for anything, it would be obvious that she would announce it—but oh no, see, when she got mad, she was passive aggressive about it and she waited for Batman to figure it out. And she typically showed her annoyance through clothing.

Her favorite way to piss Bruce off was to wear an emerald green t-shirt around the house that said, “My favorite superheroes wear green!” and the stupid graphic tee had Green Lantern and Green Arrow symbols all over it. And that sadisti—lovely witch did everything in her power to make him look at it—at her.

And Bruce knew her plan of showing her irritation was working because that maddeni—gorgeous smirk always crossed her lips when he glared—stared at her. He still didn’t know what she was mad about though. Her purpose only served to show she was upset with him—so much for the World’s Greatest Detective.

Unfortunately, Bruce knew the only way to appease her would be to submit to her the entire night and let her know that she was now in the lead for their competition. Darn…and he’d just leveled the score too, and now she was one ahead…again.

#batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader imagines #bruce wayne x reader imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader imagines #dick grayson x reader imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #tim drake x reader #tim drake x reader imagines #tim drake x reader imagine #bruce wayne imagines #bruce wayne imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #tim drake imagines #tim drake imagine #batfamily headcanons #batfamily headcanon #bruce wayne headcanons #bruce wayne headcanon #dick grayson headcanons #dick grayson headcanon #jason todd headcanons

[angelicimagines]

(Regular Ask | Any Mod) Post-Game Hajime, Nagito, Gundham, Sonia, and Akane dating the Ultimate Enologist who always plays tricks on them with swapping their drinks (innocently). Like; Hajime being asked to taste their new concoction, and it's literally just orange juice/favorite drink with no sweetener/additives, LOL.

Hello there Anon. This reminds me a lot of those "potions" that we all made when we were kids but they were really just soap and some other stuff mixed with water. I also took some creative liberties with this one cuz I had to mix it up a bit. Here's your request. In other news tumblr crashed on me in the middle of this and deleted a whole ass section. I am ready to fight god with only primal rage as my weapon. -Mod Shuichi

(Post–Game) Hajime Hinata, Nagito Komaeda, Gundham Tanaka, Sonia Nevermind, Akane Owari with a playful Ultimate Enologist!S/O.

Hajime Hinata🍊

🍊 Is immediately suspicious of you. You served him a glass of your new "concoction" but it just tasted like orange juice. Does he look like an idiot to you? 🍊 Begins "interrogating" you about the drink like you're in a trial. You must be the ultimate actor because your acting skills were top notch during the questioning. 🍊 He's out of truth bullets, shit. You got lucky this time, he has his eye on you. 🍊 He is also a massive hypocrite. 🍊 He loves watching others' reactions to your "concoctions". You usually pull this trick when they have already tried some of your original work, so they definitely don't expect to taste lemon juice in what is supposed to be a glass of your newest work. 🍊 Tries to hold in his laughter because then it would look suspicious, like you two were up to something. Maybe in the future though. 🍊 Back on track, he just knows you're paying tricks on him and wants to confront you about it, but… 🍊 Man's a simp. You're just so happy whenever someone falls for your tricks and you genuinely have a passion for creating and pranking and who is he to stop your fun. 🍊 When you do pull the trick on him, y'all have a back and forth debate on whether or not the drink is actually a new creation or apple juice. 🍊 You insist it's a new concoction and he goes "NO THAT'S WRONG!" Oh shit, he's onto you. Rethink your strategy stat! 🍊 You gave him something actually original and said it was "orange juice". 🍊 He drinks it, blinks a few times, and then glares at you. You apparently have a deathwish because you lean closer to his face and feign innocence, batting your eyelashes at him while asking what's wrong. 🍊 You expected another interrogation or maybe a "listen here you little shit", not a kiss on the lips. A surprise to be sure. 🍊 That was the start of a routine. Everytime you played your tricks on him, he'd pull you in and kiss you. You didn't know why he did that, but it was a fun way to get kisses. 🍊 If you ask him, he'd say he wanted you to taste teste your new drink <3

Nagito Komaeda☘️

☘ Very conflicted on how to feel. On one hand, he is sure what he is drinking is not the liquor you said it was; but on the other, who is he to doubt an ultimate? ☘ Plays along and congratulates you on your drink, saying it was very tasty. Bonus points if you do this trick in front of others and they're saying it's plain juice and not whatever fancy name you had said. ☘ Lowkey loves when others argue about your drinks. He always takes your side and it's hilarious. ☘ "I'm telling you that's not wine, it's cranberry juice!" ☘ "It's wine, if the Ultimate Enologist says so then it's wine. Did you spend years studying wines and their craft?" ☘ "I'M NOT AN IDIOT THAT'S CRANBERRY JUICE!" ☘ After a few more tricks he figures it out. You're playing a prank on him huh. ☘ He lets you know by saying thanks for the juice instead of whatever it is you said it was. ☘ You almost dropped the glass you were holding. He thought it was due to his luck, but he let it pass. Your face was just too funny to let the opportunity pass. ☘ Even though he knows, he still plays pretend from time to time. One because it makes you happy and two because you have to keep the illusion going for the others. ☘ You bargained with him over that last point. You promised him cuddles (after lot's of convincing that he did deserve them) in exchange for him acting along when you pulled your trick on others. ☘ Now he gets your cuddles, free drinks, and gets to witness your funny moments when you pull the prank on others. Man he really is lucky. ☘ If you name a drink after him or if one of your drinks is inspired by him he'll cry. Will refuse to drink it himself. ☘ You also share a drink that you say it's a new wine but it's really just dyed water. Others are confused by your couple ritual but y'all are happy so who cares. ☘ Nothing makes him happier than hugging you while you work on your drinks though, it fills him with hope <3

Gundham Tanaka🐹

🐹 Is convinced you're working with dark magic. You made wine taste like orange juice, what type of sorcery do you practice? 🐹 Asks you to see the process to check for magic. Oh no, you're fucked. 🐹 Or so it seems. When he's not looking you swap the drinks and keep the illusion going. He has yet to find out. 🐹 You sometimes pretend to add blood (red food coloring) to the decorations of the glass you serve your drink in and pour a special wine into them to make it look like blood. 🐹 People are convinced you two are vampires because of this. 🐹 You make non alcoholic drinks for the Devas in exchange for protection and a special place in his dark realm. You can also pet the devas free of repercussions. 🐹 Is insulted when someone even dares to suspect your drinks aren't really anything new. How dare they question the work of his soul's chosen companion sorry Hajime. 🐹 Very confused as to why others argue with you over your drinks. He is certain the contents of that glass are not apple juice, it's your new concoction inspired by the Devas. 🐹 The day he finds out your secret is the day the apocalypse began (not really but it felt like it). 🐹 You were preparing your drinks for the trick and waiting for him. He decided to surprise you by showing up a bit earlier and that resulted in him catching you mid switch. 🐹 Kept staring at you and the drink back and forth repeatedly, until the information was processed. 🐹 He's been tricked, sabotaged, and quite possibly bamboozled. 🐹 Began to doubt your status as a mortal and started having a crisis. In front of two perfectly fine drinks but ok. You came clean after that and he feigned betrayal. Even got the devan in on it too. 🐹 Both of you acted like it was a scene from a telenovela while trying to hold in y'alls laughter. You eventually got to the part where you begged for forgiveness. 🐹 Will forgive you on one condition, you pull that trick on Souda <3

Sonia Nevermind👑

👑 Before you even got to pull your tricks on her you were already her own personal enologist. Only the best for a princess. 👑 Does notice that your concoctions taste strangely like every day juices you can buy from the store, but she decides to give you the benefit of the doubt. 👑 Loves it when you do it to others though. She might not know what is happening but watching you argue with Fuyuhiko over what you just served him is hilarious. 👑 Gets whiplash whenever you pull your trick right after a formal event. You serve a magnificent cocktail never seen or tasted before and the next second you serve her what tastes like pineapple juice. 👑 You come to her for inspiration on what drinks to do next, it mostly involves references to the occult disguised as fancy people drinks. 👑 Does she find out about your secret? Yep 👑 She was looking for you to spend quality time together when she say you pour a glass of peppermint lemonade and label it as "new drink". 👑 Someone walked up to your stand and asked to try said drink and you served them the lemonade. They were extremely confused and from there a discussion started. 👑 She scurried away before you could catch her, equally as confused as the poor customer you just served. 👑 The next day, she asked to try some of your drinks and they all tasted like normal drinks. What happened to your awesome concoctions you served during parties? 👑 She's on a mission now, she's gonna get to the bottom of this mystery. 👑 One time, while you weren't looking, she snuck into your storage room to confirm her suspicion and found you working on your new wine (legit this time). 👑 You didn't seem to mind she had snuck into your storage room and invited her over to see the process. After that was done you offered her a glass as a taste test. 👑 She took a sip and it tasted like…mango juice? When she looked at you with a confused expression you laughed and offered her a glass of the actual drink. 👑 In that moment she realized she doesn't mind your tricks that much, if it makes you smile that brightly she'll always for for it <3

Akane Owari🤸

🤸 She would gulp down anything that you "concocted" for her because she loves you and you make killer drinks. 🤸 Would probably "get drunk" on whatever you decided to give her because of placebo effects and whatnot. 🤸 It is very fun to give her something like lemon water and saying it's a new type of tequila and you want her to do the honors of taste testing it. 🤸 Gladly does it and comments that it takes a bit like lemon. Then gives suggestions to other flavour you could add in your "tequila". 🤸 Others have tried to convince her it wasn't a new concoction because after the ntheenth time she had fallen for the trick it got a bit worrying. 🤸 She denies it every time. 🤸 One time you were serving her a glass of your new "drink" that was really just apple juice dyed to look like fine wine. 🤸 "Thanks for drink S/O, it looks delicious!" 🤸 You try to supress your giggles as she drank the whole thing and gave you back the glass. 🤸 She did comment that it "kinda tastes like apple juice" but that theory was dismissed due to the color of the drink. 🤸 Your plan fell right into place, good for you. Though the cheering had to be reserved for another time. 🤸 That time would be when you were cleaning the dishes because it gave you some alone time to cheer on your victory and you had a bunch of glasses to clean. 🤸 As you left with her empty glass in hand to get started on the dishes, Akane smiled to herself and lighty chuckled at the recent exchange 🤸 Plot twist, she knew that you were just messing with her. She played along with you because you always had the brightest smile whenever serving her a drink and she loved seeing you happy. 🤸 She just wants to see you happy, plus she gets free drinks <3

#mod shuichi #sdr2 x reader #sdr2 #goodbye despair x reader #danganronpa2 #danganronpa 2 x reader #super danganronpa 2 #goodbye despair #danganronpa goodbye despair #gundham tanaka x reader #gundham x reader #gundham tanaka #hajime x reader #hajime hinata x reader #hajime hinata #nagito komaeda #nagito komeada x reader #nagito x reader #sonia nevermind #sonia nevermind x reader #sonia x reader #akane x reader #akane owari #akane owari x reader

[brandyllyn]

Hey!! I'm so sorry, I can't find the post - but I think i remember you talking at one point about Scrivener? I am considering buying it and I was wondering if you think its worth it for writing thank you so much and sorry I can't find the post x

Look y'all, I'm trying to not be a sales girl here. I get no commissions. And I know y'all are sick of hearing me yell about this.

BUT IF SOMEONE ASKS I'M ALLOWED TO FANGIRL OKAY?

ramblings under the cut

Yes. In short yes. It is worth every penny. There is no world in which I would be able to write anywhere near as much as I have without it. It got me through law school, through a half million words of fanfic last year, and a law review article. As well as being currently 50k words into my novel.

My favorite features:

Endless nesting of files. I tend to write little scenes and moods first and then go back and figure out how they all tie together. The nesting feature lets me go back and put files together without actually putting them together, I can put things in a folder called "Runaway" and not really know how it's gonna turn out but all the scene ideas are there.

With that, I have whole files/scenes with just ‘something goes wrong’ as a place holder so I can map out my stuff.

Changing icons on files. I use this for both files and folders. For files, I color code so I know what state they're in. Blue means finished and red means it needs a lot of work (with other steps in between). That way I can tell at a glance where I need to be spending my time and I don't keep re-reading the done parts over and over. I use it for folders too. Currently, I have my story divided into the general mood. "Just another Girl", "Catching feelings", etc - that way I know in that in the scenes in that folder, this is how the characters are interacting with each other.

there is a view where you can have all your chapters show as notecards if that’s your jam. it works kind of like a corkboard (it may even be called that). it’s not how my brain works but i’ve seen other people rave about it.

With fanficiton, I like being able to throw a photo of the character up in the Index so i can see it while I'm typing. it helps me keep which character in mind (sometimes Ezra and Whiskey blur for me, for example). 

I also can change the icons so I know that I wrote something for a holiday fic exchange by changing it to a christmas tree, or it was for my inverted celebration has two arrows pointing opposite directions.

Composition mode alone is worth the price of admission. It blanks out your screen and mutes notifications. All you see is what you're writing and the research/resources you want to see.

Typewriter mode. Wherever you're typing stays in the center of the screen. I never thought it would be all that useful but for focus it's great.

You can add tons of folders. I have one called 'Word Dump' outside of my manuscripts where I drop paragraphs and scenes that ended up not working out. That way it never gets deleted. But there’s also ‘Research’, ‘Characters’, ‘Places’, ‘Notes’ and anything you want to add.

There's a photo feature which basically makes a quick copy of what you're writing (the entire doc) so if you change things and end up wanting the other thing back it's there (kind of like going into history in google docs)

Auto save. Auto backup.

Comments and footnotes built in.

Night mode. Another thing I didn't realize I needed til I had it.

You can set word count goals like '50k by May' and it will tell you what daily goal you need to hit that and track it for you.

Exports in any format you could want. Manuscript. Ebook. Word doc.

There's templates for all kinds of things. Poetry, screenplays, novels, nonfiction.

When I was in law school I loved it because I could take notes on my readings, pull full case texts and nest them in my notes, have my briefs as separate files with those cases, put the syllabus on there.

Oh yeah, you can drag and drop whole other files into it. If they're editable it will try to convert it to something it can see. If a PDF or image it just adds it as another file you can thumb through which is great for organizing your research. You can drop photos of castles and floorplans and whatnot into your places folder so you can pull them up while you’re writing for reference.

Their tutorials are really good and there's a lot of online resources. But if you just want to start writing you can just open a blank doc and go for it. At its heart it's a simple word processor.

Really the only thing it doesn't do is sync across devices. I solve this by writing in my notes or an email when I'm out and sending it to myself. When I'm home I can drop it into a scene or start a new file. If you work on multiple computers I think you could solve that by putting the backup into a shared drive so both computers are working off the same file. But I just have the one computer so I haven’t tried that.

So yes. Scrivener is worth it.

#scrivener #i'm a fan okay

[whaleofatjme1920]

The Ends of Hallways (Proxies X F!Reader)

The Ends of Hallways

[Proxies X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language]

[AN: Y'all are just gonna have to thank Eris for always sending me the best requests. I don't have favorites,,, but Reader, I have favorites. Also no Kate sorry :( ]

Your face was practically squished against the glass of the car Hoodie had stolen as the four of you pull into the parking lot of woods that brim with the Operator’s energy. You’ve never seen these woods in person - only in dreams. You’ve never even really seen your master in person, once again, like these woods, he too has been confined to your dreams. But you hear him, and often. His voice falls down on your ears like gentle rains that fall from the heavens. He is everything and more. That is why it is so exciting for you to finally be here, so close to him, and to his presence.

“You excited?” You hear your group leader ask.

You nod and press harder up against the glass. “Are we going now?” You’re ready to bounce out of the car and everyone can see that.

He chuckles in response. “What do you think Hood? Time to go?”

The hazel eyed man behind him shoots the driver a look. “Masky, just look at her, she’s gonna break the window if we don’t.” There’s a slight playfulness in his tone that tells you the right hand really isn’t annoyed with you.

“Fair enough,” Masky smiles. He then reaches behind his seat, hand slapping at who used to be the runt’s knee. “Tobes? Tob-Tobes, get up.”

Toby’s eyes shoot open as he lurches forward. “I’m u-u-up, I-I’m u-up,” he yawns as his hands rub tiredly at his eyes. “Are w-w-we here a-alaready?” He asks, the exhaustion still clear in his tone.

Both of the men in the front seats nod. “C’mon, let’s get going,” Hoodie says as he pulls up the lock on his car door before sliding out.

You wait impatiently for Masky to unlock the car then zip out like a bat from hell. You’re immediately at the edge of one of the forest’s many trails and taking in the sights and sounds of your boss’s woods. They’re beautiful, really. The autumn colors bathe the woods in fiery oranges and passionate reds with threads of gold to interlock it all together. The sky is just the slightest shade of blue as clouds cover the sun. There weren’t any people here either - not under the little structures, not exploring, not anyone but you and your comrades.

“Wrong one,” Hoodie says as he closes the trunk to the car before tossing a backpack to Toby, who catches it like second nature.

You whip your head around to see that Masky, Hoodie and Toby are smiling at how excited you are before silently asking you to follow them. “Where are we going?” You ask, eyes wide as you jog up to them.

“Across the field. There’s this cool tunnel of trees we think you’ll appreciate,” Masky replies as he leads his group across the grass. It crunches slightly as the four of you move, like it hasn’t been watered in a long time.

“R-Really?” Toby hums as he puts his hands in his pockets. “You s-s-sure we’re n-not gonna be l-late?” The young proxy gives a slight look to his group leader, eyebrow raised as if he’s sure the Operator is okay with them possibly being tardy.

Masky shakes his head before tapping his temple with his free hand, “he told me it’s okay.”

“He did?” You ask as stars cloud your eyes. The Operator, as you’ve heard so far, is to be feared and respected. He’s like a father you can look at but never touch. He seems so out of your range, like he’s not even visible - not even if you squint your eyes. You wonder what makes you so… interesting… in his eyes. You really don’t think you’re worth all the fuss. Clearly he does.

Masky chuckles before ruffling your hair with his hand, “yeah. I think he finds your enthusiasm endearing.” Masky’s not entirely incorrect. When they first got Toby, the Operator was strangely favorable towards the young proxy as well - maybe because he was hand plucked, special, and therefore deemed worthy of his time. You were similar to Toby, albeit, you accidentally got involved with the Operator. He liked you, chose you, then kept you.

Hoodie whistles slightly as the four of you step into the trees, his gloved hand reaching up to tear off a branch from one of the low hanging trees then swing it aimlessly as his side. “Seems pretty obvious in my opinion,” he whacks Toby lightly with the stick making said proxy laugh. “Looks like Toby isn’t the only golden child anymore.”

“P-Probably not,” Toby hums, a slight melancholy coming into his tone. “Think I-I’ve been losing f-f-favor with h-hin for a w-while.” He glances over his shoulder and smiles at you.

You frown slightly and place your hand on his shoulder, “I don’t think so,” you say. “Just means he has two golden child-s now.”

Toby beams.

You do too.

The group continues to move through the trees, mostly silent save for Masky and Hoodie pointing out little memories from time to time. Things such as some guy named ‘Alex’ chasing them through here, Masky’s waking up with no memory, Hoodie’s nature shots, and everything in between. You learn a lot about the hands of your group from when they were just scared film students to the things they’ve done as proxies here. It’s kind of nice as you’ve never really spoken to them this way before.

When you first came into this life and were placed in this group, the hazing process kicked in like wildfire. Almost every day was a mentally or physically, sometimes both, a draining task and a bonding agent. Authority was not to be questioned and they made that more than clear. Eventually, the hazing grew lighter and lighter until it just… didn’t exist. That was how it went - you were no longer considered naive and starry eyed. Still, authority was not to be questioned, and it’s why you and your comrades have never really talked on this specific level before.

It’s why it’s such a treat that you get to talk to them like this now.

Eventually, the four of you make it to an odd stretch of trees. They tunnel over each other, a lot like a thorny funnel, but they frame the sky so well.

“If the sun was setting,” Masky starts. “It would look like a cradle.”

You take a step back and observe the tunnel of trees, trying to imagine the setting sun. The mental image is pretty. “Will we ever be back here to see it?”

“Oh definitely,” Masky continues. “But uh, the business we’re here for today? Don’t know if that’s meant for anyone but me and maybe Hoodie.”

You look on instinct to Hoodie who nods. “Is that normal?”

“Sure is,” Hoodie says as he takes in the scent of the cooling autumn woods. He knows the group is almost to the limits of the Operator’s realm. “Tell me what you feel right now, Reader,” he says in passing as he flicks the stick somewhere off the given trail.

With a glance around at your surroundings, you attempt to get a feel for the area you’re in. It’s cold, much colder, but the atmosphere still feels a little thick. The further you go into the woods (and by extension the Operator’s bounds to which you don’t even know exist yet), you get that odd feeling in your legs that feels like they’ve fallen asleep. It’s like the physical sensation of static. You try to explain it in words, but they fail. Instead, you allow Hoodie into your thoughts.

“Nice,” he smiles. “Alright, try to ask for permission in.”

“I need to ask for permission?”

“E-Everytime,” Toby begins as he and the others pause. They’re right on the edge of the bubble and can feel it so much stronger than you can. “It’s t-to ensure n-normal humans c-can’t come in,” Toby begins to explain as you gaze around your surroundings, wondering how you’ll even begin to ask. “T-Though, their f-feelings sometimes k-kick into o-overdrive and they e-end up p-piercing through the v-veil on a-a-accident.” He chuckles softly and you know exactly what he’s referring to - you’ve heard tales of the people who get stuck wandering where they shouldn’t: always ends in someone strung up in the pines. “W-We’ve all learned t-to ask p-permission like b-breathing.”

You shoot your comrade a confused glance, wondering what that will mean for you. “I just ask?”

“Kind o-of,” Toby says. “Just l-let your f-f-feelings guide you. She’ll t-t-tell you whether you’re a-a-allowed in or not.”

You close your eyes and begin to hone in on whatever your heart is telling you. It’s a cold feeling, mostly like vines that slip up and down your limbs as they grow upwards and then inwards towards your heart. It’s an odd feeling. Once the static vines pierce through your heart, you physically see a fog roll into the forest around you. It consumes you and your comrades before you remember Toby mentioned ‘she.’ The fog thickens. “Wait, she?” You say as the static begins to leave your system. It feels like you’re tearing through roots as you walk forward.

“He didn’t mean it,” Masky quickly replies as he begins to pull you through the fog. “Good job on asking though. Strong response,” he says as gestures to the fog, his hand swimming through the billowy clouds. “Wives’ tale is the stronger the fog, the more genuine you were in response.”

You wade your fingers through the thick fog as you and the others walk forward, deeper and deeper into the darkness where there was none. “Must’ve had a really genuine response, huh?” You mumble to yourself. The fog doesn’t even feel like normal fog - it feels thick and heavy and leaves slight dew on your clothing as you walk. How interesting.

‘Head talk from here on out,’ Hoodie says as the four of you reach a stretch of woods that feels slightly dangerous.

‘Did you feel it too?’ Toby asks, his hand at his hatchet.

Hoodie nods slightly, his eyes narrowing as he slows his pace so he’s guarding the back. He gives you a slightly concerned look as the fog evens out. Everyone but you knows that they’re in perhaps one of the most dangerous parts of the veil. The Operator’s mere presence is usually enough to deter the things like the Rake from his grounds, but that often means they get trapped here - in the in-between - and lash out on the first thing they sense. The sooner the four of you get out of this dangerous spot, the better.

‘What do you sense?’ You ask, cutting mentally through the rough silence, your own hand moving to your blade.

Hoodie looks like he’s about to answer you before he holds his fist up and the other three of you duck down instantly, dipping below the fog. Just then, some deer begin walking past.

‘Deer?’ You say in a questioning tone.

‘Not just any deer,’ Hoodie begins as the deer slowly nibbles on the leaves and other things. ‘Take a good look at their bodies. They look normal to you?’

You narrow your eyes slightly and get used to peering through the fog as the deer pass. Eventually, you’re able to look at their coats. There’s something off about them, something wrong. Something you can’t quite place. The longer you watch them as they move in front of you, the stronger that off feeling gets. They have every physical part of the deer down but it’s just not right. It’s like their joints don’t fit well beneath their skin. And their eyes… Their eyes are completely hollow.

‘You see it?’ Masky asks as the last of the deer passes by. He glances over his shoulder briefly to see you nod. ‘We’re lucky they didn’t change this time,’ he mumbles, slowly inching forward while crouched against the earth.

‘What would’ve happened if they changed?’ You inquire, moving quietly alongside your comrades.

‘Nightmare fuel,’ Toby finally pipes in. ‘Nothing about them looks right. Big mouths full of sharp teeth, black eyes, too many limbs, like a messed up centipede,’ he finishes, a slight shudder coming into his mental tone.

You notice the other two of your group members nodding in agreement before finally deeming it safe enough to stand up and finally exit the in-between of the veil.

You’re greeted to the sight of a beautiful, rustic looking Germanic mansion surrounded by iron gates that hold honeycomb patterns that trail skywards only to end on sharp peaks that you’re almost certain your boss has spiked people on plenty of times. There’s also flowers of every kind in the front gardens that catch your eyes the moment you step through the grand gates. There’s fountains and topiaires, statues and benches that tell you the Operator drips with style and elegance.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Masky smiles.

You nod, “it’s gorgeous.” The air smells slightly expensive, but mostly sweet. How is it that a place like this can even possibly exist? Around the mansion are autumnal trees, mostly maple, some sycamore and other birch. Scattered on the front lawn are other proxies and some independents, mostly catching up and talking before leaving through the same gates you entered from. Some of them smile and wave as they pass you, others grunt and turn their nose up at you upon realizing you’re the youngest. This place sings with the Operator’s overwhelming presence.

Your comrades continue to watch your amused expression as they lead you to the front doors of the mansion. They’re large and stained glass, slightly gothic in woodwork and tower over you.

“Go ahead,” Hoodie chuckles as he nods for you to open the doors.

You glance back to him, then at the large doors before tentatively placing your hands on their surface. With a small breath, you push them open and find yourself greeted to the most exquisite foyer you’ve ever seen. Large chandeliers hang from the ceiling, sapphires and rubies drip from the fixtures and shine the light beautifully across the marble floors. Gold leaf adorns almost everything that juts out while the huge staircase in front of you beckons you forward.

“Doesn’t seem like he needs us yet,” Masky says as he checks his watch. “Got here earlier than expected, huh?” He lightly ribs Hoodie who rolls his eyes in response. “C’mon, let’s go to the sun room. Don’t wanna wait around in here.” He nods for the three of you to follow.

Toby clears his throat slightly as if to remind the two in charge that you’re still very much here and new.

“Oh, right,” Masky says. “Reader, this is super important, so listen up,” your group leader begins as he turns on his heels to eventually rest his hands on your shoulders.

You raise a brow at his sudden contact. Masky normally didn’t touch you unless what he had to say was important - which really, really didn’t happen often.

“This mansion likes to play off your thoughts, feelings, and logic,” he says, his hand gesturing to the staircase that’s slowly moving directions. You didn’t even hear it begin to shift. “The Operator usually keeps things in line for when he summons you, it’s almost a guaranteed path you’ll make it to him, but,” his eyes go serious. “If it’s just you and you’re moving around, you need to have a place in mind or it’ll accidentally spit you out somewhere totally random. We’ve had people get lost in here because the mansion is slightly playful and weirdly baneful depending on the individual walking around.”

“The Operator has a playful side?”

Masky stifles a laugh before shaking you lightly. “I legitimately mean it, you need to have a place in mind or you’re gonna get lost and the Operator isn’t gonna be happy. By extension, I won’t be happy because I need to come get you.”

“Mhm,” Hoodie nods in agreement. “And you can’t have the thought in passing either, it’s gotta be on your mind until it’s in sight.” After Hoodie’s words leave his mouth, Masky lets you go.

You take all the information in and wonder just what makes the place run. It’s like it has its own personality - it’s playful and baneful? You have to ask it permission to even enter its grounds and it deems whether you’re worthy or not? What kind of power does the Operator even have and why on earth would he even care about that kind of stuff? If he truly wanted his proxies to access him, he’d do it with no hesitation. The humans that would wander into his rooms would just end up tasting someone’s blade.

“Sun room?” Hoodie reminds Masky.

Your entire walk to the sun room you try to conjure a mental image in your head. They say it’s doubtful you’ll get lost so long as you’re with them, but you consider it good practice. When you finally make it to the sun room, you’re pleased to see it’s relatively empty save for a few groups interspersed in the large, window adorned room overlooking a silver lake. There’s a few independents walking around with carts holding different tea time finger-foods and waiting tea sets on every table. Maasky leads you over to one of the tables nearest to the view of the lake.

“So, what business exactly are we here for today?” You ask as you waste no time in pouring yourself some tea.

Masky shrugs, “no idea. He said he just wanted us to come.”

“T-Think he r-really only n-needs an audience w-with them though,” Toby adds before silently thanking you for pouring him some tea as well. “L-Leaves us some t-t-time to chat. Y’know, t-the thing H-Hood hates us d-doing,” he lightly jokes.

Hoodie scoffs and feigns being annoyed, “I only hate you two chatting when we’re in the middle of tearing out some guy’s entrails.”

“Y-Yeah, which is a-all the time,” Toby giggles.

You laugh as well.

The four of you are in a heated argument about something relatively stupid when static overtakes Masky and Hoodie’s hearing. They visibly pause, as if they’re trying to key into something you can’t understand when it suddenly stops.

“Have t-to go?” Toby inquires before taking a strawberry tart and popping it into his mouth.

Both Masky and Hoodie nod.

“Yeah. Keep an eye on Reader, please? We won’t be too long,” Masky replies with a small, tired smile.

Toby flashes the two a thumbs up before the both of you watch them leave, a clear destination on their minds.

It’s not long until Toby gets distracted by some other independents that stroll into the mansion. You recognize the two of them as relatively minor legends - well, maybe not the one with the smile. His name is Jeff.

“So, this is your fresh meat, huh?” Jeff chuckles as he lightly pushes Toby’s shoulder. “She looks a little scrawny. Are you feeding her right?”

Toby laughs and nods, “Masky w-w-would lose his m-mind if you s-s-said that.”

Jeff’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “I’m joking,” he holds his hand up as a sign of truce. “Hope you know you’re running with one of the only decent groups out there, Reader,” he says before picking up his tea cup. It looks slightly comical as he brings it to his lips.

You offer him a smile and nod, “yeah, I know.”

The man to Jeff’s left nods in agreement, “Masky’s really good at what he does. Got one of the best.”

Toby immediately fights the notion (playfully) and the three engage in conversation that’s lively and vibrant all the same. You listen to the three verbally duke it out before you find yourself bored. You can’t just leave though, but you want to move at the same time.

“Toby?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I excuse myself?”

“W-Where to?”

“Washroom,” you reply.

“Do y-you need m-me to a-accompany y-y-you?”

Both Eyeless Jack and Jeff scoff.

“She’s a big girl, let her go,” Jeff says as he nods his own approval for you to go. “You told her about the mindset thing?”

Toby nods.

“Yeah, then she’s good to go,” Eyeless Jack agrees.

You flash the men at your table a smile before getting up. You push in your chair and then make it to the entrance of the sunroom, leading into the halls. You don’t have a set destination in mind. The moment you step out of the sunroom, you feel the air change. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s different. On instinct, you turn your gaze over your shoulder to see the sunroom is gone. It’s just hall and lining the hall are doors upon doors.

Alright, you can work with that! A small smile comes to your face as you begin to walk forwards, allowing your curiosity to bloom. The first door you decide to open is one that’s honestly not that exciting. It was just a storage unit. Another was a study. Then it was someone’s room. Another room. And another. How many residence rooms are there?

You close yet another door and then feel a thought come into your head, taking a seat on your train of thought like a butterfly sunbathes on a flower. She - Toby had mentioned it. And you wondered. You let the thought stay. Before you know it, you’re walking through the halls guided by forces you don’t quite understand, and the further you get into the mansion, the stranger the atmosphere becomes. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s not a normal feeling either. You watch as the light fixtures change from something relatively modern and regress into something more vintage. The dust begins to kick up. Irish lace begins to pepper the ceiling. You notice how the doors change style as well. How strange.

Eventually, you reach a dead end stretch of hall. At the very end of this hall is a singular door that looks weathered, as if it was sunbleached and painted over in oils. There’s an elegance to it you can’t quite place, and like a siren song, you find yourself being beckoned to it. Your proxy instincts kick in like second nature the closer you draw to it. You feel your breathing lighten, your steps as well, and you move towards it with a silence that is unmatched - as if you’re floating on air. You draw closer and closer to the door. It’s so magnetic, and you can’t quite explain why/ But closer still you must be to it.

Your hand tenderly grasps the doorknob - it feels like ice - and you twist it open. You wonder if you should be doing this. A part of you feels like you shouldn’t be doing this, but another part of you says this is what you were meant to see. You push the door open ever so slightly, just enough to be able to see inside, but the door is heavy, almost as if it doesn’t want you to. Like it’s trying to protect you from something further. You wonder if it just wishes to keep its secrets.

It’s gorgeous, it truly is. It puts the rest of the mansion to shame. It looks old - perhaps from 16th century Germany and fit for royalty. Plants of all kinds line the walls. They look like emeralds as light shines through their leaves. The sunlight kisses the flowers that sprout from the stalks. Beautiful woodwork surrounds the windows that are covered in fairytale-esque stained glass pieces. The scent is of something much, much sweeter and warmer than the rest of the mansion. Your eyes then draw to the center of the room, where an ornate table sits. There’s gold leaf decorating its legs followed by symbols you can’t really pin down. A tablecloth that looks like it was weaved from the stars above is the only thing that separates a delicate tea set from the precious mahogany table. The tea smells heavenly from where you stand.

Before you can press into the room, you pause upon seeing slender, pale hands take hold of the tea pot. Your eyes follow upwards to the owner of the hands only to see a woman so much more beautiful than the moon in twilight and the sun in the morning. Falling from her shoulders was golden hair that looked like a sea of amber as it cascaded down near the floor. Flowers were woven into it - mostly snowdrops, baby’s breath and queen Anne’s lace. She’s dressed in something from medieval Europe, and never once does her sleeve touch the table. She begins to pour herself some tea, a honey like hum coming from her being as she pours the sweet liquid. Her eyes flick upwards for but a moment when she hears a bird chirping outside. Her eyes are so dark, there exists no white sclera. They’re so dark, like black holes that hide in the depths of space, but you feel as if she holds the universe inside of them. She’s so beautiful, you’re not sure she’s real. A cat has jumped up onto the table, purring at her. When she smiles, your heart sings.

You want to say hello to her and spend time in her presence when you attempt to open the door some more. It creaks slightly. The hinges are ancient. Before you can say anything, the door is slammed shut, sending you flying backwards. You let out a sound of shock before seeing Toby reaching down to get you.

“What t-the hell a-a-are you thinking?” He hisses as he picks you up, grabbing your bicep and beginning to drag you away from the door that still holds your attention. “You r-really just w-wandered off l-like that?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, attempting to get free of his grasp as he continues to pull you along. No matter how hard you smack at him, he doesn’t let go.

“M-Masky said it’s not s-safe for y-y-you to wander o-off. A-And without m-me? D-D-Did you have a-any cognitive t-t-thought when you w-went out on a l-limb like t-that?” He sounds so heated.

You find he’s bringing you back to the sunroom, undoubtedly going to tell Masky and Hoodie about your misbehavior. “Why are you being so weird?” You retort as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. “It’s just a room!” You cry out in an exasperated tone.

Toby only reprimands you louder. It’s a losing game.

You eventually find yourself back in the sunroom. Only, instead of Eyeless Jack and Jeff, you see the deeply concerned and slightly pissed off faces of Masky and Hoodie. They’re not happy to see you, and you’re not exactly thrilled to see you either.

“Take a s-s-seat,” Toby says in a harsh tone as he thrusts you back into your seat.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Masky asks, not even attempting to mask his voice because that’s the privilege of being a proxy. You’re able to reprimand your proxies without anyone giving a care.

“You can’t just go off like that,” Hoodie continues as he furrows his brows. “You could’ve gotten-”

“Hurt? This is the Operator’s mansion, what the fuck is gonna hurt me in here other than himself or you two?”

“That’s it,” Masky points out. “He can seriously hurt you if you snoop where you shouldn’t!” His hands grips at your wrist, tightening to a point of pain.

When you feel tears prick your eyes, Hoodie sighs and puts his hand on Masky’s shoulder, “stop it.”

Masky hesitantly lets you go.

“What did you see?” Hoodie asks with a deep sigh, his posture tensing. He’s really hoping you didn’t see the Operator’s trophy room.

You give your comrades a concerned look, not sure whether you should answer or not when Hoodie raises a slight brow. Damn it. You’re emotionally compromised. He’s seeing what he needs to without your permission.

“That’s… Odd…” He says.

Masky glances to Hoodie. “No.”

“Unfortunately, I think yeah,” Hoodie says with a growing frown. He glances to Toby for confirmation, and upon seeing Toby’s nod, says “yeah,” again.

Masky groans and puts his face into his hands, finding comfort in being buried into himself.

You hold your wrist in your hand and lean back in your chair. “Just… What is it you guys aren’t telling me?” You question, hoping they’d just bite the bullet and tell you.

The group shares a look, debating whether they should even say it or not. When no one says anything, you press them again.

“Come on,” you sigh. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It really could be,” Masky says as he finally releases his face from his hands. “No one knows what seeing it does.”

Your eyes widen before you bark a laugh. “What?”

“No, he’s serious,” Hoodie picks up. “Seeing that door is rare, like, rainbow pikachu rare. Proxies think it’s an omen or a bad luck thing. To see it means a group’s eventual demise.”

You briefly scoff at the thought of proxies being superstitious before you remember some of you can actually cast portals. It’s really not that out of pocket.

“N-No one has e-e-ever found o-out though,” Toby shrugs. “W-We just know t-that the g-groups that h-h-have n-normally e-end in death.” He looks a little uncomfortable as he says the words, like there’s a legitimate truth to what he’s saying even though he’d rather it be utter BS.

“To be fair, we thought it was a rumor prior to you sneaking off,” Hoodie says as he tries to calm down his group.

You take in this information with a small frown. How could something that beautiful be that evil or a harbinger of doom? The thought of it left you perplexed as your comrades continued to lecture you on not wandering off until Masky and Hoodie were called away.

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable leaving Reader here with-”

Toby rolls his eyes, “you c-cant just s-say you want m-me to come with i-instead. N-Not need to insult m-my competence a-a-as a babysitter,” he mumbles before glancing down to his hatchets.

Masky sighs and nods for Toby to follow him out. Looks like it’s just you and Hoodie.

“So,” you awkwardly begin, not really sure what to do or what to say.

“So,” Hoodie hums back. “Anywhere you wanted to go?” When he sees the glint in your eyes, he shakes his head. “Like, a normal place. We’re gonna be here for a while while those two are out,” he chuckles, watching as you visibly deflate.

You allow the question to bang around in your head until you nod with a thought in mind. “The library. I’d like to go to the library.”

Hoodie smiles at that suggestion and finishes the rest of his tea before standing up. He stretches for a moment, then leads you to the hallway your original snooping began. You noticed as his thoughts immediately became clouded with the word and vision of ‘library’ as the two of you trekked the halls. As you walked, you barely recognized any of the doors you passed. They weren’t on your radar, which was odd in your opinion as you had opened a lot of door you probably shouldn’t have.

Eventually, you reach two large oak doors. Hoodie pushes them open and you’re greeted to the sight of a beautiful library. It’s impossibly huge - how could such a place exist in the mansion? You’re well aware it’s a huge place, but the fact that all of this is here… It’s bigger than a downtown city library you visited when passing through Chicago a few months ago. The Operator’s influence is beautiful, isn’t it?

“I’m gonna be in the sci-fi section,” Hoodie says as he nods over to the right wing of the library. “It’s on the second floor.” You notice the spiral staircase that leads to what appears to be a balcony - it must stretch backwards forever. “Check in with me in about 15 minutes. Don’t do anything stupid.” It’s surprising how relaxed he’s being with you. You would have expected someone like Hoodie to be a lot angerier and more observational.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you nod and flash him a thumb’s up before bounding over to the left wing of the library. Nothing is properly labeled, but you get a strong bout of intuition where everything is. Right now, you’re on the hunt for history.

The aisle that holds the history books looks just as old as you would have expected it to. The books here aren’t any you’ve ever seen in stores either - they’re largely from the time period they’re to be representing. Some are more modern, but you get the feeling that they don’t exist anywhere else but under the Operator’s influence. You find a few books that talk about the early history of proxies, some on independents, but nothing to inform you on what you had found.

It’s honestly a little maddening. You check in with Hoodie when you have to - he asks you to list the spines of the books you’re currently looking at - and then you’re back to your fruitless search. You run up and down the halls of the history section looking for anything when you hear static begin to buzz in your heads. The feeling travels upwards like the vines you felt earlier from your heels to your chest. When they claw deep into your heart, you feel a pull. And once again, like a sailor beckoned to the rocks due to a siren’s song, you follow it.

It twists and turns you through the shelves, making you zip past the few proxies and independents that are currently visiting this wing of the library before you’re drawn to a rotunda. You look backwards and see in the distance the front doors of the library. When did this place get a middle wing? It was just straight shelves and a wall with large windows overlooking the rolling hills of the woods. You turn your attention upwards to the ceiling of the rotunda. There’s a large skylight that allows sunlight to cascade down. Around that are gems you don’t even know the name of that weave a mosaic of something positively divine. You allow your gaze to follow the shaft of warm sunlight down, and there, sitting at a table with a book in hand (it looks like a journal) is the Operator himself.

“S-Sir!” You manage to squeak out as you find yourself startled to be in his presence, Heat rises to your cheeks when he looks up from his book to turn his attention to you.

“How did you get here?” He asks, confusion etching his body as he curiously tilts his head.

Your breath hitches. “I’m so sorry,” you apologize, bowing your head almost immediately. “I don’t know how I got here. It just felt like a pull and suddenly I was here? I was in the left wing and looking over history books and I-” you continue to rattle off until the Operator holds up his hand, silently signaling you to stop. You do so as soon as he asks.

“I-. It’s no matter,” he waves off. “Come, sit down beside me.” An inky black tendril sprouts from his back as he pulls the chair in front of him out, allowing you to sit in his presence.

You will your stone-like legs forward and attempt to gracefully take a seat in front of him. It’s a slightly awkward silence before he speaks again.

“How have you been, Miss Reader?”

“I’m alright,” you reply, voice no higher than a whisper.

The Operator hums. “Good.”

Another pregnant pause.

“Child, where is your book?”

“I uh, didn’t grab one?” You answer softly. You can tell the Operator is looking at you with what he can convey to his fullest as confusion. “When I was pulled here I just.. Followed,” you attempt to explain. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

“And what have you done today?” He asks, giving his passing attention to you like a father would.

You bite your lip before steering the conversation towards the room you saw. “I think I met someone.”

“You did, did you?”There’s a passing interest as if he’s saying ‘that’s nice, honey.’

You nod. “She was in a tea room-”

He pauses.

“I found her by accident-”

He makes sure he’s hearing you correctly.

“Her hair was golden-”

He looks up.

“She had plants-”

He’s sitting upright now.

“She had a cat-”

He leans forward.

“Her smile rivaled the stars-”

He’s focusing so intently on you now.

“Her voice was like honey-”

He entirely focused on you.

“She was beautiful.”

The Operator’s ichor pauses for just a moment as he takes in the description of the woman you described. It makes a part of him sing and another part of him sob. He hasn’t heard of her in so, so long.

When you look up, you see the Operator practically leaned halfway over the table and entirely focused on you. It makes you jump. “I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, thinking you saw something you shouldn’t have. “I wasn’t thinking and I uh, think the mansion led me to her?”

The Operator wordlessly nods. “Was she pouring tea?” He asked, voice so much gentler than anything you could ever expect him to conjure up.

You slowly nod. “She was.”

The Operator suddenly slumps down, making you jolt. You rise on instinct to help him when he waves you back down. “Do you realize who you’ve come into contact with?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I’m afraid not, Sir,” you say with slight remorse.

The Operator chuckles deeply - it rumbles his chest and in your head. “You found her.” He could smile, you were sure it would be from ear to ear if he had the correct facial features. “All these years later and you found her.” He emphasizes you like a bittersweet affirmation.

“Who is she?” You ask softly.

Your boss sits back up again. “Someone who loves me,” his tendril sprouts once again from his back and moves towards you. “Someone who loves you,” it taps your nose. “Someone who loves us.” The tendril makes a grand, sweeping gesture.

You take in the words and nod, still not knowing what they mean. Upon seeing your confusion, he decides to elaborate.

“A long, long time ago, in a realm you could not begin to fathom, there was light and there was dark,” he begins, his voice slipping into something akin to someone saying a bedtime story. “I was the light, and that cur we call Zalgo was the dark.”

You scrunch your nose at the sound of his name.

“The dark and the light were born from nothing, and she was beautiful.” His audible smile is actually endearing to hear. “Throughout the years, the light and the dark fought, constantly at each other's throats. It was woven in the threads of history, it had been our birthright. When we came to this place, this planet after being cast from our home - a palace amongst all palaces, a kingdom that rose far above any other, the nothingness came with us. She called herself Liebevolle Frau. She loved her children.” By this point in the story, the Operator has taken the liquids from the coffee cup he drinks from and animated them into the characters for this story.

You watch with stars in your eyes.

“But no guardian is without its favorites, and I happened to be hers.” Liebevolle Frau’s figure was shown sheltering the Operator’s much smaller one. “And this caused a rift that could not be mended through the light and dark. Eventually, the dark waged war on the light.”

It’s a war you’re still fighting to this day.

“In the 1500s, long after this mansion had been built and my power continued to grow, Zalgo had almost wiped us off the face of the earth to splatter out remains across all the five realms. Liebevolle Frau, thought caught off guard,” that would explain the tea, “sheltered me and protected this place and all who resided in it. At the time,” the Operator looks at you. “Independents and proxies had lived here much more commonly than they do now.”

You smile softly.

“Liebevolle Frau’s power had been pushed to its limit in holding back her first born son, and mind, as well as her heart, broke because of it. In her remaining moments of lucidity, she imbued herself, her soul,” the liquids take the form of something fluttering and soft, like a bird, “her everything, and became the place I hold jurisdiction over today.”

Your eyes widen as you think back to the odd feelings you’ve had coming here for today - and Toby’s slip-up.

“I have not been able to find her since the late 1500s,” The Operator explains as the liquids dance back into the coffee mug, the figure of Liebevolle Frau taking a hair longer than the rest. “She lives in everything.”

You’re honestly speechless over everything the Operator has said because it’s so… It’s strangely heartfelt. You’ve never even spoken face to face with your boss and when you do, it’s because some force is guiding you to do so. But if that force felt so alive, it must have meant she wanted you to know.

“Her physical form,” you finally manage to wisp out. “She wanted to be at peace, didn’t she?”

The Operator chuckles deeply. “I would assume so.”

Before you can respond to anything or even come up with another response, you hear both Masky AND Hoodie yelling for you in your head. The jarring difference between your boss’s gentle voice and Masky and Hoodie crying out for blood is enough to make you jump (once again).

Upon seeing your sudden switch in atmosphere, the Operator hushes the voices in your head and calls them to his side.

Toby is the first to show up though, and quickly trailing after him is Masky and Hoodie. They both look ready to reprimand you but upon seeing you sitting with the Operator, nothing but reverence crosses their minds and bodies.

“Good evening, Sir,” Masky says as he bows his head. “Are you well?”

“Thoughtful, aren't you, Timothy?” There’s no animosity or anger in the Operator’s tone, but it makes Masky blush all the same.

A pregnant pause passes.

“I was just speaking with your newest member, Miss Reader,” a pale hand gestures to you. “Come, join us. I could use the company.”

You watch as confused glances get shared between your three comrades before they take a seat beside you.

A pleasant silence passes through the air before a gentle humming that’s sweeter than honey overtakes it like a passing breeze.

#masky #hoodie #ticci toby #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #marble hornets #marble hornets x reader #mh #reader insert #x reader #slender man #the operator #slender man x reader

[ridethewritings]

spending a day with the boys. (headcanons!)

request: hey, i got a request!! i know this is super like general lmao i hope it's enough to work with! but maybe some headcanons on how each of the boys would choose to spend a day off from band duties with the reader! thanks in advance, dude!☺️

a/n: thank you @glambby for being my very first request. i’m forever grateful! :’) i hope you like these headcanons! i may or may not have gotten super emotional while writing cliff's headcanons. </3

warnings: none!

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james hetfield:

- being with james, you knew you had signed up for everything that came with this package. you fucking knew that you were about to have fun when he brought out some liquor from your liquor cabinet.

- this living room sure as hell was big enough for the both of you to get drunk and dance around, singing the lyrics to some random music you put on the stereo.

- the drunken stumbles of the both of you sent you into a fit of laughter as you slowly crumpled to the floor. james would have a huge grin on his now reddened face, cheeks pink from laughter.

- there is nothing like getting stupid, silly drunk with james hetfield. you thanked whoever was in the sky that you two didn't have neighbors in close enough proximity to y'all. hell, you damn sure knew if you did that you'd be getting noise complaints.

- once you two calmed yourselves, james brought out one of his acoustic guitars. another thing you absolutely loved about spending time with him this way. he gets relaxed, and he plays whatever he wants, and you sit there with a glass, the last few sips of your liquor in it.

- god damn, this man can sing. listening to him sing was amazing. it always amazed you at how talented he was, and it makes you wonder how the fuck you got to this point, being with him, the love of your life.

kirk hammett:

- this boy and his horror movies. you like horror movies too? "new horror movie out! let's go to the movies tonight-"

- "kirk, honey, you just got home today. relax-"

- "this movie looks so good though, just look at it!"

- eventually you gave in, and to be honest, you looked at the trailer and unfortunately, it did look like a good movie. now you REALLY had to see it.

- at the movies, he lets you get all the snacks you want, and he gets some himself, and of course he's getting the largest bucket of buttery popcorn for the two of you to share. he wants to make sure you both have everything you possibly need so that way the two of you wouldn't have to get up during the movie.

- go to the bathroom BEFORE you get into the movie, too! just so you don't miss any of the movie. if you do end up having to go again, he won't be upset, but instead, he'd follow you out so he can make a soda run for you after because your sodas ran out.

- oh yes, reclining in the top row of chairs and holding hands between all of the snacks you both put out and started munching on, stealing little kisses from you every now and then.

- needless to say, you two had a blast, and when you went home, you both went to bed, your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat slowing to a resting.

lars ulrich:

- walking through downtown, checking out small shops, his hand was in yours almost the whole time. crossing the street, he would never let your hand go, he'd keep you near him at all times. this man is protective.

- the street was lit with dim street lanterns, and the brick sidewalks made ways for the people in town to get around easily. there was music thumping throughout the town from not only the restaurants, but a small music store you spotted.

- you ended up dragging him into the music store to look at the metallica records. whoops? and the first one you grabbed to look at was the and justice for all record, which you knew had a picture of lars on the back. "look at you!" you said softly, pointing your finger at the picture of him.

- your comments on the photo made him have to resist the urge to smile, his cheeks getting rosy as he let out a small and barely audible laugh. and thank GOD no one noticed that it was actually him, lars ulrich, in the music store as you were making your way around, looking at the metallica albums happily.

- as much as he loved seeing you excited, and seeing your happiness about his band's success, he knew it was almost time for the two of you to get going.

- you've both never been in this town before, and you loved it already. you loved the hustle and bustle of this small town, the sidewalks crowded with small groups of people every once in a while, which wasn't a problem because they usually kept on their side and passed y'all without hesitancy.

- it was great, until he checked the time, then he took your hand, telling you that you both needed to leave.

- mans really made a secret reservation to a really really great restaurant that was located in this town. that was why he wanted y'all to be here this late. you weren't complaining about the town, though. you loved the streets and the small stores. this town was pretty cute.

- when he led you towards a restaurant that you laid your eyes on when you passed it moments ago, you made an audible noise.

- the smile that appeared on his face told you everything. and you loved him for that.

- the restaurant smelled and looked absolutely stunning, and he knew you wanted to go there when you passed it before. and honey, disappointment was not a word in your vocabulary when you left that restaurant. you two had a blast, and in fact, that restaurant was now your number one favorite. that food was BANGIN'.

cliff burton:

- cliff would be the person to take you out for a ride in his car, and just park at a peaceful and quiet place that he knows won't have other people at. just a regular hangout place that only he knows.

- it's nothing too fancy, but it's a great place to just relax and get away from society. how he knew about this place, you have no idea, but you're glad he took you here.

- he'd probably smoke a small bit, listening to music on the car radio, and eventually he'd turn it up so the two of you could go outside and sit on the hood of the car, taking in the fresh air.

- he would let you rest your head on his shoulder, and smile when you point out different clouds and their shapes. stay out for a little longer and the both of you would be looking at the stars, the first constellation he points out, being orion's belt.

- if you were hungry afterwards once he'd taken you home, he would call and order in.

- being in cliff's presence was and always has been a blessing from the stars, and you were very very grateful to have him. he may be quiet and chill, but you love him for it, and it always makes you relaxed whenever you are able to spend time with him. no matter how you spend that time.

jason newsted:

- you found yourself mesmerized by jason's curly hair blowing in the wind while the top of the convertible was down, the two of you going 85 on the freeway towards the mountains.

- boy were you excited to spend time with him for the night in that cabin in the mountains, seeing the pictures of the cabin and the views online before you went and booked a cabin over call.

- well, you were not disappointed when you rolled up to the cabin. even the views while driving up the mountain were gorgeous. remembering the way jason compared the mountain to you, saying that the views were gorgeous, but not as gorgeous as you.

- he said that, and all you could do was let out a small laugh, and he noticed that what he said, was in fact cheesy. but it was okay, because you loved him.

- getting into the cabin, the first thing you noticed was the warm smell of vanilla and cinnamon. maybe from the candles, maybe from the brand new bottle of rum that you spotted in the small liquor cabinet, along with some small shot glasses that were tempered with the gentlest of hands in warm red and orange color.

- the rest of the night went extremely well, you both had a nice dinner, some drinks, and relaxed in the outside hot-tub that sat in the corner of the screened in back porch, which overlooked the mountains of trees, a lake in the middle of the valleys.

- sleeping with him next to you for a night had to be the best feeling in the world, being in his arms after he was away for so long. it really takes it's toll on you, and he knows it. every time he has to leave, he apologizes profusely, and you tell him it's okay, that it's his job. and hell, whenever he does have free time for you, he always misses you too.

robert trujillo:

- what can i say? robert is a romantic, much like lars. he will want to take you out, no ifs ands or buts about it. insist that you two should stay home? sure, but he’ll find a way to make it romantic. want to go out? you bet your ass he’ll take you wherever you want to go.

- if you want to stay home, he would definitely close the blinds and curtains, make the house dimly lit instead of all bright from the light outside.

- hungry? he’ll cook for you, and you better not get up to try and help him. and to be honest, he’d cook a slammin’ meal.

- if you’re cold, he’ll go and grab both of you a big blanket to wrap the two of you up in, just to snuggle and watch whatever you want. another giant teddy bear!

- going out on this day, he’d cruise around in the vehicle with you, giving you the reins for the choice of music. no complaints from him, not a peep, he'd just listen to you sing the lyrics and have a smile on his face.

- man is just happy to spend this day with the love of his life. he'd do anything to make you happy.

#dev writes #metallica imagines #metallica fanfic #james hetfield imagine #kirk hammett imagine #lars ulrich imagine #jason newsted imagine #cliff burton imagine #robert trujillo imagine

[mads-weasley]

Crazy

Robert Leckie x Nurse!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Hey y'all! This is apart of the HBO War Secret Santa 21'! This is especially for@multifandomlover01! Merry Christmas! I hope you like it! As always, the only character I own is (y/n). The rest belong to HBO!

Summary: While in the hospital on Banika, Leckie meets and befriends (y/n), a nurse who's in charge of his care. Taking an interest in the soldier, she discovers there is more than meets the eye when it comes to the charming machine gunner.

Warnings: mentions of vomit, blood, enuresis, tooth rotting fluff?

(y/n) - your name

(y/l/n) - your last name

(y/h/c) - your hair color

Robert Leckie was miserable. No, miserable was an understatement. The constant island hopping and generally terrible conditions were greatly affecting him, as they did everyone else. What didn't affect everyone else, however, was the terrible enuresis he had been suffering from since Cape Gloucester. He would go to sleep dry, or as dry as one could be in the jungle, and wake up wet. This constant cycle was enough to get him sent off the line to a hospital in Banika to help this condition he had been suffering from.

After checking into the hospital and getting stripped for any "dangerous" items he could hurt himself with, he took his place on an empty cot. Looking around at the soldiers in the hospital with him, he soon realized this was a psych hospital for people he thought were crazy. It made sense why they took his belt and razor blades now. His mind kept repeatedly asking himself, 'Why am I here?' He knew he wasn't crazy, so why did everyone else think he was?

That night was relatively hard for the machine gunner. His thoughts were stuck on his current situation and his friends on the front lines. Deep down, he was relieved he was off that horrid island, away from death lurking around every corner. When he did happen to doze off, his dreams drifted to the jungles of Guadalcanal.

He shot awake, glistening with sweat, and felt the all too familiar damp feeling of the sheets beneath him. Swallowing his pride, he told a nearby hospital attendant what had happened, and they said someone would be there shortly. When he heard footfalls behind him, he didn't bother turning around before snapping at the figure, expecting it to be Ruttinger.

"Where were you, huh? You wer-"

A feminine voice cut him off. "You're not my only patient, ya' know?"

"Sorry, ma'am. I thought you were someone else." He said turning around and quickly standing up as his face reddened.

When he laid eyes on the mysterious figure, he felt his heart drop to his stomach. Never had he seen a woman as beautiful as the one standing before him. Not even Vera Keller rivaled her smooth skin and bright smile. Her nurse's uniform was so pristine and her (y/h/c) was styled in soft curls falling from beneath her cap. He's disrupted from his staring by a small laugh.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer....." She prompted for his name, raising an eyebrow.

"Leckie. Robert Leckie. B-But you can call me Bob.""

"Okay, Robert. Here is your new clothes. I'll put on the new sheets while you go change."

The reality of the situation feels like a slap to the face as his already rosy blush deepens to blood red shade. He couldn't believe the first interaction he'd had with a beautiful women in years was when he'd literally wet the bed. He vowed to never tell Chuckler or Hoosier about this, knowing they'd torment him eternally for it.

"I'm sorry ma'am."

She just held up a hand as she started stripping the sheets off the bed. "You're fine. You couldn't help it. Anyways, it's my job. This is nothing compared to some of the other things that have happened to me."

"What....other things?"

"Well, I've been puked on, bled on, and my personal favorite, had crap wiped on me."

Groaning at her last statement, he turned and started walking towards the bathroom to change. "And that's my queue to leave."

The laugh that escaped her lips brought a smile on the young man's face. He couldn't resist the urge to glance back at her small figure.

"Thank you...." This time it was his turn to learn her name.

"(Y/n) (y/l/n). Of course, and goodnight, Bob."

"Goodnight, (y/n)."

With a nod, he entered the bathroom, heart racing. After changing, he expected her to still be there, but she was nowhere in sight. As he settled in bed, his thoughts were filled with the beautiful nurse, rather than the horrors that he had witnessed during the war. He drifted to sleep this way, dreaming of his nurse.

~

As the days went by, (y/n) had been by several times to check up on the Philadelphian. Each time, they had normal conversations as if they weren't in a hospital on a small island in the Pacific, in the middle of a world war. These talks consisted of talking about where they were from and different things they liked. She loved to read, and they had numerous discussions about which authors were the best.

When he divulged that he was a writer, and many other unique details about himself, she felt something stir inside her. She had developed a crush on the sarcastic and charming soldier. Every time they spoke, both wished it could last forever, but sadly, she did have other patients to attend to.

Little did she know, he was feeling the exact same way. Vera Keller had completely vanished from his thoughts and (y/n) took her place in the forefront of his mind. Surprisingly, they had a lot in common, and her spunky attitude drew him in closer with every word that left her mouth. He couldn't help but smile every time she walked in the room or when she would start talking animatedly about something she was passionate about. There was no denying that his kind nurse could make his heart skip a beat and butterflies flutter around his stomach.

~

One day, when she went to check on him, he was laying on his pillow, just staring blankly at the ceiling. This was completely out of the ordinary. Normally, Bob would shoot up and make a snarky comment the second the young woman would walk in the room. But that day, he showed no interest in anything. Concerned, she slowly walked to his cot and sat down on the edge of it. She opened her mouth to question him but she was abruptly cut off.

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

She was so taken aback by the question, it took her a few seconds to fully process what had been said.

"Of course I don't think you're crazy." She said in a soft voice.

Finally sitting up and looking over at her, he lets out a huff of air. "Why am I here, then? Why aren't I with the other normal soldiers? I-I mean, there has to be something wrong with me, right?"

"Robert Leckie," she started, gently cupping his cheeks, "You are not crazy. You're just as sane as I am."

Closing his eyes, he leaned into her soothing touch, placing one of his hands over her much smaller one. "How do you know that?"

"I just do."

Both of them started slowly inching towards the other and he softly moved his other hand to push a stray hair behind her ear before placing it on the curve of her jaw. They both knew what would happen next, and neither one cared to stop it. Merely inches away, she could feel his warm breath on her face. She closed her eyes, willing her heart to take control, but a split second before their lips meet, the all too familiar call for a nurse echoes through the hospital.

At the call, both freeze. Robert opens his eyes to see a frustrated look on (y/n)'s normally calm face. As much as he wants this moment to continue, he knows it's her job.

"Go," he whispers.

With a short huff, she takes off running towards the source of the call. As soon as she's out of sight, he flops back down on his pillow, letting out a groan as an unfamiliar voice speaks from beside him.

"So close, buddy. So close."

Leckie turns on his side and sees the owner of the voice on the cot next to him. Chuckling, he realized this guy had a front row show of the whole ordeal.

"Yep. So close." He finally responded.

~

The next few days, he didn't see (y/n) at all, and he was starting to worry about her. It was during this time that the head doctor gave him the go-ahead to go back to the 1st Marines. He was excited to go back and see his friends, but was also disappointed that he didn't get to share anymore moments with the lovely nurse (y/l/n).

When the time for him to leave had come, he was about to get in the jeep when he heard it. It was faint, but it was there. Someone was calling his name. There was only one person who it could be, and the mere thought of her brought a smile to his face. Turning around with his bag in hand, he saw her running towards him.

Right before she reached him, he dropped the bags and wrapped his arms around her when her body collided with his. Pulling away from their hug, she tugged him town towards her by his uniform. Their lips collided and he quickly placed his hands on her cheeks as they shared a kiss that said a million unsaid words and thoughts. Whistles and hoots broke out around them, but they were too caught up in the moment to care. When the kiss broke, both were out of breath. The driver honked and called out to them.

"Sorry, man, but you've got a plane to catch."

With a sigh, he pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. "You better write me, Nurse (y/l/n)."

"And you better not go crazy without me, PFC Leckie."

"I thought you knew?" He questioned with a cheeky smile.

"Knew what?"

"You're the one who makes me crazy."

#robert leckie #robert leckie x reader #the pacific #robert leckie x nurse!reader #hbowar #hbo war x reader #bob leckie #fluff #angst #war #ww2 #wwii #i can't believe i churned this out in an hour and a half #it's 1:05 am on a school night #the pacific is my new favorite thing #james badge dale #mads' writing struggles #mads' fandoms #hbowarsanta21 #merry christmas #i hope you like it