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moondirti · 1 year

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animalic (2)

← chapter 1 // series masterlist

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader rating: mature word count: 2.2k summary: a game of cat and mouse warnings: enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, guns, death, blood, angst, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as ‘wraith’) notes: remember when i said part 2 would take a while? i lied. the next chapter is fun as all hell so i wanted to churn this one out as build up. teehee i hope yall like it regardless

He let you go.

No matter how Miguel tries to vindicate it, he rounds back to the same conclusion. You weren’t subtle, regardless of what you’d have yourself believe; he’d seen the calculations glaze over your eyes the instant he pinned you to the wall. He knew what was coming, how your heavy breathing was a cover for the clicks of his watch – of which he heard regardless – and your squirming a diversion from the movement of your busy fingers. He had a goddamn plan too, a fail safe in case you decided to attack instead of listening to reason.

(One he’d settled on for the duration of your lost consciousness, for knowledge that you would.)

So, there is no dismissing it. You’re obnoxious and lack precision, and he could have had you halfway back home by now, which isn’t the case – because he let you go.

The frigid air of his office thrums with irritation, weighing down on his shoulders until they collapse inwards, his hands coming up to rub the weariness off his expression. HQ has been unsettlingly quiet as of late – occupied by only a fraction of its regular population – and the peace worries him. History betrays its status as the precursor to havoc; lulls in the past have fooled him into believing his mission was drawing to a close, only for another anomaly, another mess, to spin that naivety on its head.

You were one such instance. A year ago, you’d popped up on an Earth that wasn’t your own, and didn’t leave until you’d drawn all that you could from it. It’s an empty husk now, lacking land to propagate its agriculture. Thousands – millions – dead, from the flap of a butterfly’s wings.

Parasite. A fucking parasite who just won’t quit.

The mantra surges through him, festering from the base of his gut to the cap of his tongue. It bursts out with a roar right then, the sudden violence finding monitors thrown across the room, smashed to bits of orange light and static. It does nothing to sate him, though, the heady anger filtering out like molasses. His back hunches as he draws in thin breaths. He doesn’t count, nor does he attempt to. Instead, he looks for his only real decompressor.

The video of Gabriella flickers at him from a distant floor, the transparent tablet wrecked with four distinct claw marks. He exhales, pulling it back to the platform with an extended web.

“Boss,”

His mija smiles toothily down at his digital self, winding her small palms in his hair for balance as he carries her. He recalls helping with hers, tying it back into shabby ponytails the mornings before a big game. How she wouldn’t let anyone fix it afterwards, not until her elastic slipped off the ends and her bangs hindered her playing. And she’d run to him, whenever, to get it fixed again.

“Boss.”

Her jokes resonate still, echoing laughter from when she’d poke fun at how bad he’d gotten at it, amused by the sudden decline in ability. To Miguel, it was one more reminder that the life he led wasn’t his own.

“Oh Miguel!”

So much for calming down.

“Lyla.” He looks up at the virtual assistant, her corporeal character a little fuzzy around the edges. She chooses to ignore his dissociative episode, rather projecting a map of the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse, a point off centre highlighted in red. His heart skips. Placing the tablet down on his desk, he takes a step closer to survey the pin.

“Managed to track the Wraith down using the day pass you’d given her. Currently stationed on Earth-15, no signs of jumping anytime soon.”

Parasitic, and stupid enough to forgo destroying a potential tracking device.

Lyla snickers, seemingly able to read the sneer pulling at his cheeks.

“Seems like she’s afraid of glitching more so than she is you, Boss.”

His glare snaps to meet her heart shaped sunglasses.

“Funny.” His assistant shrugs at his admonishment. “Pull up the anomaly cam.”

A second later, your figure blinks into sight.

You’re crouched atop a tiled floor, the grout darkened to near-black with grime. In front of you lies a sparse spread of medical supplies; gauze, scissors, and miniature packets of disinfectant wipes. Miguel can’t help but wonder what you think you’re doing, treating your wounds in a bathroom as unsanitary as the one that cramps you. Graffiti littered walls, nests of used paper towels in every corner. You spring up to wash your hands after undoing the old bandages that hugged your forearm, but all that comes out is an inconsistent splutter of grey water.

His chest twinges, a tug of intrinsic sympathy playing against him. It worsens at the sight of your injury, the consequences of his talons’ assault on you, the puncture points brimming yellow and blackening closer to their middles. He can’t tell whether it’s gotten any better, whether you were good and had it treated by a professional, or made the common mistake of relying too much on your enhanced healing.

“Gave her a harsh gig there. You always that rough?”

“When I need to be.” Miguel murmurs, skimming over the conspicuous innuendo.

“Right. Until it comes to finishing the job, that is.” And, despite the offence taken to Lyla’s jest, he can hardly disagree. Newfound resolve hardens within him, sympathy fleeting at its failure to deter him.

“Set coordinates for Earth-15.” He rumbles, gesturing to his wrist as he walks away. The assistant does as she’s told, shrinking back to an icon on his watch. While waiting for the portal to configure, Miguel cocks his head, taking one last look at your oblivious form.

“I won't let her get away this time.”

“Put the money in the fucking bag or she gets it!”

Of all the spider-people you’ve met, you don’t believe any have been the hostage in an armed robbery situation. You imagine that they’d come in at the last minute, valiantly swinging through the window, accentuating their arrival in a shower of shattered glass. They’d demand the money be remitted, and all’s well that ends well. But – of course – there’s got to be a first for everything; your record just so happens to be the lamest of the bunch.

The masked man presses the gun further into your temple, bursting capillaries until the spot starts to ache with a raw tenderness. His body wraps around you, other arm waving wildly outwards, extending a plastic bag to the poor soul behind the register. You take a great gulp of air, staring at the buzzing fluorescents above, and pray.

Lord, now would be a really good time to phase out.

“P-Please, leave her be.” The owner throws a potful of crumpled fives into the bag, as if to punctuate her plea. The man is dismissive in face, urging her for more, shaking the receptacle with comedic insistence. You purse your lips, blinking up at the ceiling once more.

Or make this more exciting, at the very least.

“And you!” You’re jolted out of being a passive observer, rattled when the man diverts his attention to you. His gun thrusts harder against your forming bruise, adding to the list of damages sustained in the past week alone. You peer at him from the corner of your eye. His roll incredulously, pointing to the bill in your grip. “The twenty!”

“Is that a real gun?”

“Wha– Of course it’s a real fucking gun! Put the money–”

“In the bag. I know.”

His hold on you slackens, expectant. By contrast, you ball your fist and punch him square in the nose. The hit sends him reeling farther than it should for the amount of space you had in winding back, the feat prompting a deluge of pride to wash over you. It’s bolstered when he drops the spoils in the process, toppling into a rack of chips and cup noodles that consequently cushion his fall.

Your first save.

Filled with bravado, you snatch and pass over the bag to the cashier.

“Here you go, ma’am.”

But she doesn’t look at you. Rather, her stare remains trained on the man you’d just disabled. Nerves maturating, you join her line of vision, only to be met with the barrel end of his weapon. You catch the vicious conclusion in the way his hand trembles, veins protruding from the pale skin, supplying courage to the finger hovering right over the trigger. You process it all, aware of the ways it can end, at how fast it can sour.

Before you can so much as act on it, he shoots.

Your skin prickles.

You’ve heard stories of people who don’t realise when a bullet strikes them. Their bodies take time to catch up to the pain, cells stuck in paralytic shock, stimulus signals held somewhere between the existential and a will to delay the inevitable. You think you understand what they mean, your mind dragging in a rare bout of silence. Things slow, for a perennial moment, and you wonder how fast the blood loss will kill you.

You can do nothing but follow the man, who scrambles to a stand, letting him take the money – with whatever else – and watching as he runs out onto the street.

And even still, the pain hasn’t caught up to you.

Looking down, the case starts piecing itself together. No blood sticks to your shirt, the fabric still as pristine as it had been upon purchase. You check your arms, then your legs, then reach up to smooth over your head. Nothing. You’re okay.

The relief is short-lived when the morbid sound of gurgling meets your ears. Slowly, you turn, bracing for what you knew you’d find.

The scene unfolds with a distressing intensity as crimson liquid blooms from the cashier’s throat. The torrent is never-ending, every gush of ichor bringing forth a new momentum, splattering its macabre scene over the register. Her eyes gloss over with an unshed panel of tears, and she looks to you for help.

She looks to you.

(You don’t admit it to yourself, but it’s the novelty of that fact that pushes you into action.)

With a swift leap over the counter, you intercept her mid-fall, carefully cradling her weight as you guide her down to the ground. Scanning your surroundings, you search for a means to call for help. A rotary phone catches your recognition, situated a ways off by the back exit. Despite the inconvenient placement, it stands as your sole option at this stage.

In a split second decision, you sling your backpack off, hastily rummaging through its contents. You find solace in your hoodie, gathering its folds to tightly bunch it up, converting it into a makeshift compress. Knowing she lacks the strength to apply pressure to the wound, you move to wrap it around her neck, hopeful that it’s tight enough to stem the bleeding while leaving enough room for air.

Urgency fuelling your every step, you leave her side for a fleeting moment, dashing over to call an ambulance. Your medical knowledge only extends so far, and some selfish part of you itches to pass on the responsibility to someone more competent. It’s an impulse that derives from an innate acceptance, that resoundingly insightful voice in your head telling you it's too late. That she’s already dead, had been from the moment the bullet – that was meant for you – missed.

Perhaps your help isn’t really helpful at all, then. Perhaps it’s your attempt to wash your hands of the sin. You think back to the grey water in the bathroom, how exasperated you had been at your inability to stay clean.

(You don’t think you’ll ever rid yourself of this.)

“911, what’s your emergency?” The question crackles through the receiver.

The bell by the entrance jingles, the chime accompanied by heavy footsteps. You press yourself against the wall, the concept of the robber returning filling you with such dread that you feel your stomach tighten and congeal. It’s a heavy lump, icy cold and slippery, and it seems to weigh a hundred pounds.

“Hello?” The operator says.

But if it was the man, then he'd have to have changed into a navy and red suit. Somehow, your terror worsens.

“Hijo de la chingada…” The whisper is barely legible, but the deep baritone is discernible enough to validate the assumption pulled from your brief glimpse. You’d recognise him anywhere.

Shrinking in on yourself, you cup your palm over your mouth. “Hello,”

“Ma’am? Can you describe your emergency?”

“There was an armed robbery at the convenience off sixth and Third. Someone’s hurt.” You hardly register the words as they escape you, eyeing Miguel when he crouches over the lady. You’re propelled back to the conclusion of your last meeting; how his claws tore into you, how his persistence didn't falter until you pressed yourself onto him.

That kiss.

He runs a finger over your hoodie-turned-compress, wavering, like he can’t quite place where he’d seen it before.

Or, maybe he can, for he spins to meet your wide-eyed stare.

You drop the phone, bolting out the back door, charged on a paroxysm of adrenaline and pure, unadulterated panic.

chapter 3 →

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walpu · 11 days

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Happy birthday Aventurine

...in which he finds himself enjoying his birthday for the first time after he lost everything

notes - gn!reader, was written with a stellaron hunter!reader in mind but it's not specified just know you're considered a criminal in this one, pre-canon, unestablished relationship with a flavor of pining, angs, hurt/comfort, no beta

Love my birthday boy

He doesn't celebrate his birthdays. Not since the day he lost everything. How can he celebrate the joy of his birth if on this day all the joy was taken away from him?

Born on the blessed day, he's Mother Goddess's beloved child. But why did she abandon her people then? Why it had to happen on the day they were celebrating her, on the day they were supposed to be saved? How can he see himself as something other than cursed, how can he see the day as something other than tragedy?

Anyhow, even if he would want to celebrate, for the first years after the massacre he didn't even have the opportunity to do so. And if he could, he would rather mourn his people, his family. But no, he can only focus on his survival, trying to fulfill the promise he gave to his sister.

Now, standing in the lonely hotel room, he can only smile bitterly at the sight of beautifully decorated cake Jade has send him. How ironic, wasn't she the one who told him to forget his name and his past? Perhaps she simply doesn't look at this the same way he does. "You can't change what happened but you can celebrate that you're still here", she would probably say. He envies her ability to brush off sentiments, really.

Now, when he is no longer Kakavasha but Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts, he was deliberately choosing to ignore this day. It has nothing to do with his new self.

He may still hold onto his mother's necklace, his father's shirt, the promise he gave to his big sis. But this day? He doesn't need it. He doesn't need another reminder of the moment he lost everything.

That's what he tells himself, ignoring the pain in his chest, trying to bury himself in the work, running away on a mission he insisted on taking, even if was supposed to be his day off.

Still, he gets the cake. This stupid reminder of the worst day in his life.

It honestly feels like a joke. He doesn't even have anyone to eat this with!

He knows Jade didn't try to mock him, she's pragmatic, not crue. But aeons, it does feel like mockery still.

So he sits with this stupid cake in front of him, not really knowing if he should just throw it away. Somehow it feels... wrong. Wasteful. He knows how stupid that thought is, both him and Jade are rich enough to buy thouthands of those cakes. Yet he can't help but remember how his mom and sister would go out of their ways to give him something nice for his birthdays, something that could be considered a treat, a gift. Now he can have everything he wants but... they won't be there to share it with him.

No one is there to share it with him.

... at least he thinks so. Up until the moment the window opens from the outside (eighteenth floor, mind you) and a very familiar figure jumps in.

He really can't help but smile. Not only out of habit but because your ability to sneak in anywhere you want is truly amusing.

"Oh, what I see? A wanted criminal breaking into the room of one of the IPC's most noticeable employees? Don't you afride of being caught, my dear? Or you've finally decided to end our partnership and get rid of me?"

He can't help but chuckle at your unimpressed gaze. Yes, he has told this joke more than once already. But it's not his fault it always make you roll your eyes in a funny way.

But he really is curious what brought you here. Showing up like that is very risky, for both of you. Something serious must have happened if you decided to visit him out of the blue.

... that's what he thinks until you pull out a small gift box from your pocket, throwing it his way.

"A little birdie told me today it's your birthday. I don't usually participate in the whole gift giving tradition. Nor do I celebrate something myself. But those things reminded me of you and I was nearby anyway" you say with a cheeky smile.

He doesn't even know how to react, honestly. His hands just automatically unwrap the box and... oh. It's a set of earrings. A very pretty set of earrings.

"They reminded me of peacock tails" you say, barely holding back a chuckle.

"How original you are. I'm a birthday boy, you should be nicer, you know!" he acts like it's just a small joke between you two but his voice is weaker than usual and his hands are a bit shaky. He doesn't want to overthink it, he really shouldn't do it, it's just a small gift, a joke.

You thought of him. You know his taste well enough. I came to find him. You're here with him.

He almost panics when you say your goodbyes and turn to leave (through the window again. He'll never know how you do it).

"Hey, hey, no need to hurry. Let me be a good host for my friend" he says with his signature smile (he always feels like you see right through it) while his hand is clenched behind his back (he feels like you see through this too).

Please don't leave.

When you sigh and turn back to face him, he suddenly feels relieved that Jade send him the cake. The thought of sharing it with a wanted criminal who caused nothing but headaches to the IPC is somewhat amusing.

"How about we visit a nearby casino after this, hm? I promise you won't lose with me by your side"

If he can have you by his side, mayve he'll have at least one memory of this day untainted by pain and grief.

#sleep deprived and tired but I really wanted to write something for his birthday #Aventurine #reader insert #hsr #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #walp's writing #stellaron hunter!reader #kinda

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gojoscalico · 7 months

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Turn Back Time || t w o

Summary: You were never sure when it started to fall apart but it did. 10 Years later and now you're facing him again. Will it reignite the feelings you both once had for one another? Or will you both end up walking away from each other once again?

Word Count: 1516

A/N: I hope more and more of you all enjoy my story...! Thank you for the support !

<- Previous Next ->

“This is Yamaguchi Y/N. She’s a new transfer student starting today.” You felt their gaze, you knew they were observing the bruises and the scars on your arms.

‘Look at you, you look like a disgrace to this family.’ You bit the inside of your cheek as your mother’s words echoed through your mind. You were just embarrassing yourself at this point. You just wanted to crawl into a ball and die. Just like they wanted you to but for some reason you didn’t die. You were still here.

“Woah, Sensei, where did you find her…? She’s all beat up.” You had hoped that they wouldn’t bring it up but of course one of them did. The raven-haired one who’s slanted eyes made it seem as though he was glaring at you. But you knew he was observing you. Feeling more self-conscious, you looked down ashamed of your disheveled appearance. You lifted your hand fixing your hair a little bit as if that would have made a difference in making you look less pathetic than you must look to them.

You felt your face get warm as the redness covered your cheeks all the way up to your ears as you heard one of them start laughing. He was amused by how adorably you were trying to fix your appearance by fixing your hair. He thought it was amusing that after what it looked like you had been through before this very moment you were still like everyone girl he knew. But to you that laughter filled your whole being with irritation as it seemed as though he was making fun of you.

“Fixing your hair won’t hide your bruises.” His tone was gentle but his words were sharp. You knew that wasn’t gonna do anything but still you were a bit flustered that he had acknowledged it. You looked up glaring at the white haired boy who laughed at your appearance. At first you were astonished by his beguiling azure-colored eyes incapacitating you for a minute rendering you unable to think of a good comeback. “Satoru!” You turned your head to the only girl in the group. You watched as she smacked Satoru in the head, you flinched as she suddenly turned towards you with her hands in the air. You had switched to your defensive mode. Shoko watched you flinch, heartbroken by your reaction she retracted her hand. Whatever it is you went through it was a lot more than she can probably imagine, “These guys are just insensitive; they have never been around another girl other than me of course. But I, on the other hand, am ecstatic about you being here.” You widen your eyes in shock, you have never heard those words before.

Someone for the first time in the sixteen years you had been roaming this earth was glad you were around…glad you were alive. Tears welled up in your eyes as you were unable to hold back these emotions as suddenly you were reminded that you were no longer in the dreadful basement. You were free. You were finally free. Jujutsu High has set you free from that basement, from living as a corpse. With tears in your eyes you smiled up at the trio. “Thank you.”

Satoru’s heart skipped a beat as he saw your innocent and pure smile. He watched as you began bawling, sitting down on the floor in front of you. He wanted to comfort you at this moment. They all did. But they were all afraid that you might break in their arms. Your small stature, sunken eyes and your frail arms. They felt if they were to touch you, you would break. He knew whatever it was you had been through was over and you were feeling nothing but an overwhelming feeling of relief.

“Y/N! Earth to Y/N.” You snapped back into reality shaking your head as you were unsure of why suddenly you were remembering the past. Maybe it was because you were back in Jujutsu High in Tokyo or maybe because you had bumped into the trio. “Did you hear anything I said at all?” You laughed, “I’m going to be real honest with you, Hime but no. Sorry. I was lost in thought.” Utahime sighed as she shook her head, “I was going to ask if you had told Suguru, Shoko or…anyone that you were back?” You heard the awkwardness in her tone as she tried to avoid saying Satoru’s name. You shook your head, “I mean I met them this morning at a cafe I was with Miwa.” Utahime sighed, “They are most likely gonna ask me why I didn’t tell them about you…” You laughed nervously, “Sorry…Just tell them I had asked you to keep it a secret. Besides, I honestly didn’t think that I would be taking Mei Mei’s place this year. I wasn’t planning on having them find out I was back…It wouldn’t do us any good anyways.” Your face suddenly displayed a dejected look. Utahime knew little of what happened between you four but she knew that you had loved Satoru more than anything in the world. It was a shock to everyone in the Kyoto school at that time for you to suddenly leave Tokyo, especially while Satoru was still recovering. Afterall, your love story was popular through out the whole school. There wasn't anyone enrolled in Jujutsu High that didn't know about Y/N and Gojo. Even as a group the four of you were the strongest team in the last century.

“Well how did it feel?” You played with the coffee cup in your hand trying to put into words the euphoric feeling of looking into his eyes again. “I–”

“Satoru!” You flinched at the mention of his name. “What did you tell Principal Yaga?” You heard Satoru’s footsteps get closer to where you and Utahime had been. “I asked him why they let an outsider teach our kids. Especially one that never graduated from Jujutsu High.” You knew he was trying to grasp your attention. “Hey!” Utahime yelled.

“She did graduate Jujutsu just not in Tokyo! She graduated in–”

“Hime!” You interrupted. You clenched the cup in your hand. You didn’t want anyone from Tokyo finding out that you had been in Kyoto this whole time. Because you knew that if they found out that you had been hiding this whole time they would maybe hate you even more than they already do. “You were in Kyoto…this whole time.” You felt yourself shrinking into your chair. He was angry. I mean you would be too. You wanted to cry so bad because you hated when he was angry especially when he’s angry with you. You shook your head. “No…” It was partially the truth. You had moved overseas for a bit to try to find your purpose after losing Satoru and your friends. You couldn’t find yourself strong enough to hide each time you knew they were in town. You knew that if you had stayed in Japan you would be the first to break. I mean they were the first people you knew and loved after being deprived of it for so long in the basement of your family’s home. The Gojo clan was right. You wanted to find out for yourself if you were attached to Satoru because you actually loved him or because you were just comfortable.

But by the time you had found the answers to your questions it was too late. You had been gone for too long and he had hated you. I mean if he left you the way you left him you would also hate him. “I was in Korea for a while…fighting there. I just came back a year and a half ago…”

“Satoru…it’s all in the past come on…” Suguru said gently. “Why can’t you just be honest with us? Why did you leave?” You scoffed at Suguru’s comment, “If it was that easy you think he would be looking at me like that?” You turned your head to see Satoru’s eyebrows crinkled in the middle. He was looking at you with anger. And you felt his anger through his glares. “You used to look at me with love and gentleness Tor–”

“Don’t call me that. You can’t call me that.” He watched your expression change from sorrowful to hurt. He knew what he said had hurt you but you hurt him. “Right…Sorry Gojo-sensei. Hime I need a second…I’ll be right back.”

“Y/N!” Shoko called back as you stepped out of the room. “Really Satoru? Do you even know why she made the decision she did back then?” Satoru scoffed, “Why do you?” Shoko shook her head. She knew but it wasn’t her place. All she knew was she wanted to fix the both of you. Instead she thought that if only they had been stronger…if only Satoru had been stronger then he would’ve been able to protect you from his own clan. And maybe today would be different. He would be different. You would be different.

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

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Flyboy (Part 3) | Jake Seresin x Reader Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: tw: getting drunk; tw: mentions of alcohol; tw: mentions of cheating in a past relationship; general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: I am sorry this is so long, it just wrote itself. We’ve hit some cliche tropes in here i.e. one bed, fake relationship (I just love them though). As usual, thank you everyone for the love on Flyboy. Your comments, reblogs, likes all have been really encouraging and mean the world (I read them all), please do leave them <3

Also, can someone just talk to me about how Jake is most definitely from Texan money - I firmly headcannon this.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist

(If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 3

PART 2 <<

Approximately 7.5k words

“I hate when flying makes me queasy,” you shudder as you step off the airbridge and into the terminal.

“Queasy,” Jake scoffs as he steps off the airbridge after you. “We’ll need to fix that.”

“I don’t need fixing,” you groan as you welcome the feeling of stable and solid flooring beneath your feet.

“Mhm.” He makes a non-committal sound and you can almost hear the gears in his mind whirling with ideas.

“I am not letting you take me up in the air.” Your face is a mixture of extreme apprehension and horror and it causes his face to split into a wide grin, amusement clear on his features.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He nudges your side gently with an elbow.

“I’m never getting into a jet with you.” You shudder your stomach lurching at the idea of slipping around in a tiny fighter craft.

“So, remind me again, why we are not staying at your apartment?” He asks, staring out of the window of the cab.

“Because Annie has us booked into the hotel she’s having her reception at.” He looks at you, brow raised quizzically. “Her husband to be owns the place.”

“Well hello moneybags.” He lets out a low whistle, both brows raising an inch above his shades.

“You’re one to talk,” you tease, and it earns you a dismissive snort from him. Jake had never shown a hint of it, but an invitation from his mother to your family, along to the family Christmas gathering her side of the family was hosting, the first year you had known Jake, revealed to you that despite the modest home life the Seresin’s kept, Jake’s maternal side of the family came from Texan oil. It was, you figured, part of the upbringing which had pushed out his confidence and extreme self-assuredness came from. His mother, as Jake had told you after that Christmas, had gone the odd route of marrying his father, an average guy, but one whom she was truly, madly in love with, and had kept a more simple life than the one she had been accustomed to growing up - but it didn’t however change the fact that Jake, had generations of old money running through his veins. You had never probed further than what he had volunteered, because money or no money, he would always be just Jake to you. It had however, always made you suspect that apart from loving flying and the thrill of it, Jake’s chosen career path was him fighting against the grain of what his maternal side of the family expected of him, the return to the fold.

“Doris asked about you.” He does however bring up his maternal grandmother, and your eyes light up. She had taken to you like one of her own grandchildren after Jake had introduced you both to each other that first Christmas.

“I miss her,” you admit, smile on your face. “The last time I saw here was when she came down to New York with your mom.”

“She sent pictures,” the smile tugging at his lips matches yours, recalling the day. He had just landed, from being scrambled for a mission with the VFA-151 Vigilantes, that day marking his first confirmed air combat kill. He had flipped open his phone after the adrenaline, congratulations and debrief, finding himself wanting to call you, to tell you about his accomplishment of the day, only to find photos of you, from his grandmother on his phone - her having forced you to model the jewellery of the moment which she was lusting after. The message which had accompanied the photos had read “Isn’t she gorgeous Jake?”. He hadn’t cared for how you looked with his grandmother choice of diamonds and glittering stones that adorned your ears and neck, but he had found himself smiling at the genuine, slightly bashful smile you had on your face, and had saved those photos of you to his photo album.

“Was it Doris and her trinkets?” You groan, using the name Doris herself used to refer to her jewellery.

“Doris’ taste has always a bit… opulent.” He admits, and you sink back in the seat of the cab with a nod of your head.

“It’s a lot of sparkle.”

It makes him barks out a laugh as the cab rolls to a stop in front of your apartment building. You both weren’t staying here, but as you had informed Jake, you had to make a stop to retrieve wedding appropriate dresses for the weekend ahead.

“She calls it her dazzle.”

“I don’t see how you left them all here.” He bemuses, leaning against the doorway of your bedroom, arms folded loosely over his chest, watching you rustle through your closet.

“Because I’m sure I would have been entirely needing of a floor length gown or fancy cocktail dress in Fightertown USA.”

“Could always wear one for a run around the compound. Might help you run faster.”

“Black or green?” You ignore his jab at your running and pull two dresses from the rack, holding each in one hand in front of him.

“Black.”

“Jake Seresin going for the more conservative option.” You feign a gasp, as you toss the black gown, plain, long and strapless, which would cut across the front of your chest in a tube like fashion on the bed, heeding his selection, while reaching up to slot the green dress, of the same length but with a plunging neckline back into your closet.

“You don’t need to show skin to look good” he says nonchantly with a shrug of his shoulders, and for some unusual reason, it makes you feel a flutter in the pit of your stomach. You busy yourself for a few seconds more than necessary, flipping through your closet, your figure hidden behind the open door as if to consider more options, as you let the strange feeling settle. It makes you miss the searing look that flickers briefly across the greens of his pupils as he watches you.

“Trinkets?” He asks, eyes meeting yours as you finally shut your closet doors to face him. “Doris would be very disappointed if you didn’t sport any.”

You raise your hands to tuck your hair behind your ears, showing him the modest pair of diamond studs you never took off, they were the one nice piece of jewellery you owned. There had been a few other pieces that you had, once that you were sure Jake had seen on you over the years, but you had donated to goodwill post break up with Dan, dump the guy, dump the jewellery he had given you.

“All I need.” You gesture to your ears.

“No others?”

“Nah,” you shrug, avoiding bringing up the reason behind the lack of your other pieces, knowing that it would cause irritation to colour his face. “Let me grab a pair of heels and we can be on our way.” You busy past him, picking up the gown in hand.

“A Queen?” You stare at the receptionist that is sliding the set of keycards across the counter to you.

“It says here that Ms Annie Jacobs has you booked for a queen.” You sigh inwardly, the booking must have been from your original RSVP with Dan.

“Do you have any other available rooms with two singles?” You throw a glance over your shoulder towards Jake who is standing a distance away, phone to his ear and hand in his back pocket.

“I’m afraid not,” she shoots you a genuinely apologetic look, “We are maxed out for the weekend.” She explains and you nod in understanding. The wedding, as you had been told by Annie herself, was going to be a massive affair because of the sheer number of people her future in laws just had to invite, family, society friends, business associates.

“Alright,” you shoot the receptionist a smile as you gather up the keyboards, hoisting your handbag higher up your shoulder, “thanks.”

You see relief flutter across her features, and you shoot her another smile, warm and sympathetic.

“Looks like we’ll be sharing a bed.” You walk up to Jake, hand extended to hand him a keycard, as he drops his phone from his ear.

“Sharing a bed?” He echos, and you see an expression that you’ve never seen before pass his features for a split second, before he breaks back into his trademark smirk. “Well aren’t you lucky.”

“More like unlucky.” You reach out to grab the handle of the suitcase, but Jake’s hand beats you there and your palm lands atop of his. He takes the chance to capture your hand in his, his warm, calloused palm against your skin.

“Can’t keep your hands off me already?” He asks, keeping a hold of your hand. You feel his thumb stroke a line up the back of your fingers, and the simple gesture makes your breath catch in your throat. It has you staring down at your combined hands, wondering if that was a habit from the moves he pulled on women.

“Is that one of your mov-” you start to ask, only to be cut off by a loud voice shrieking out your name.

You rip your hand from his, spinning around just in time to be engulfed in a hug that is all Annie. You stumble backwards slightly at the impact of Annie throwing her arms around you, and you return the gesture, but not missing Jake’s hand which reaches out to anchor you steady by the small of your back, preventing both you and Annie from tumbling back across the hotel lobby.

“Hey,” her excitement is infectious and it makes you laugh as you greet her.

“I was afraid we lost you to San Diego for good.” She gushes as she pulls away from your, her eyes wide. “It’s been forever.”

“It’s only been weeks,” you correct her.

“Reaching two months,” she whines back as she looks behind you, finally picking up on Jake.

“I know you,” she sticks her tongue out the corner of her mouth as she takes him in, appraising him from head to toe. To his credit, Jake doesn’t flinch, his stance casually confident, and unbothered as he lets run through her assessment of him. “You’re picture frame boy.”

“Picture frame boy?” He looks from Annie to you for an explanation.

“You’re in one of the photos she keeps in her office, on the shelf behind her desk.” Annie cuts in, explaining for you before you can open your open. “It’s the photo of you carrying her on your back. You know, the close-up shot with both of you laughing, wind in your hair.”

Jake knows the photo because it’s the same photo he has taped to the inside of his locker back at his home base - something he has never told you about. It surprises him that you have the same photo, out of the many you both have together, put up in your office.

“The interns thought it was adorable,” Annie continues to gush, not allowing either of you a word in, her eyes shining with excitement. “They kept asking her if it was her boyfriend in the photo.”

“Did they now,” Jake sidles closer to you as he throws an arm around your shoulders. You glance up at him, and he simpers down at you, looking an ounce too smug. “We are adorable.”

You both miss the glance Annie throws from you to Jake, and back to you. She notes you scowling, sees your nose wrinkle as you poke your tongue out at him, but she also registers just how at home you both look, you tucked under his arm, and him holding you just the right amount of close against his side, like you were both made for each other. She had never seen you look that way with Dan. It is, she thinks, something neither of you are even aware of. She manages to hide a knowing smile as she clears her throat, causing you to snap back into the present. Jake’s arm continues to hang loosely from your shoulder, and you don’t bother to shrug it away.

“Let’s get your suitcase put away,” Annie announces as she looks around for a member of staff, “and me drunk.” She says, words clearly directed at both you and Jake. “I’m Annie by the way.” She remembers to introduce herself.

“Jake.”

“And I told her, that she could shove her opinions up her ass.” Annie roars and you both collapse in a heap of giggles at the table. You’ve lost count of the number of drinks you’ve had, but a look through the floor to ceiling windows that dot the side of the hotel bar tells you that you’ve been drinking for hours. Your insides and skin are overly warm from the flush of alcohol, and the tips of your fingers feel slightly numb.

“Annie?”

“Charles!” Annie calls out as her fiancé comes into view. She attempts to stand, but stumbles, falling back into her chair.

“You’re drunk.” You giggle, as you and Annie lock eyes across the table, and it has both of you gasping with laughter. “Hi Charles.” You raise your hands in a little waggle, and he returns your hello, offering you a smile despite your drunken state.

“He sees you.” Annie hisses and you both burst out into another fit of giggles.

“How long have they been drinking?” Having identified the only non-inebriated person at the table, Charles looks to Jake who is seated beside you, his hand casually slung around the back of your chair.

“Since 6.” He glances down at his watch. “So 4 hours give or take.”

His response makes Charles exhale in a sigh that is both defeated, yet understanding of his fiancé need to let loose.

“Thanks.” Charles takes in Jake’s sober state, and it doesn’t take a genius to see that he had hung around for both your and Annie’s sake and safety.

“Don’t worry about it.” He tips his head in a slight nod, before tilting his chin towards Annie. “Might want to get her to bed though, I hear you both have a final rehearsal tomorrow before the big day.”

“We do.” Charles reaches down, anchoring an arm behind Annie. It isn’t too much of a struggle, as his fiancé willingly throws her arms around his neck, allowing herself to be helped up and supported.

“Byeeeeeee.” Annie calls out to you in a singsong voice as she begins blowing sloppy kisses towards you with her hands. It makes you return the action. “Byeeeeee picture frame boy.” She doesn’t forget to turn her attention to Jake.

“Thanks again.” Charles shoots over his shoulder again as he begins the slow walk with Annie in his arms to the elevator. Jake nods his head lightly again in response to Charles, before watching them both walk away.

“Jakey.”

He feels your head thump down on the portion of flesh below his shoulder your cheek pressing down against the material of his shirt. A glance down reveals you staring up at him, doe eyed. You have pressed yourself against his side, your body teetering at the edge of your chair, your hands spilling into his lap.

“Yes sweetheart?” His gaze searches your face, lips slightly parted, eyes glassy from alcohol, hair slightly mussed. There is something so vulnerable about the way you look, and he can’t help the hand that moves from it’s position on the back of your chair to hold you around your shoulders, fingers clasping at the top of your arm that is further from him.

“I’m tired.” You slur your words, as you let your head loll against him and he finds himself rubbing a thumb up and down your arm in a comforting stroke.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He notices your eyes beginning to droop close.

“Okay, up you go.” Jake unwinds your arm from around his neck, and his hand from your side as directs you towards the bed on which you collapse on, your head hitting the pillow, body stretching out on the mattress. He rubs the back of his neck, flexing his shoulder blades slightly in a small stretch.

“Jake,” your voice calls out in a whine, and he can’t help the chuckle that falls from his lips at the sound. It wasn’t something that he typically heard when you were sober.

“Yeah?” He looks to find you staring up at home, pout on your face.

“I need to shower, can’t sleep in these clothes.”

“Darlin,” he starts still amused, “I’m not letting you into the bathroom unattended when you can’t even walk. You can shower tomorrow.”

“But its gross.” You wail as you manage to push yourself to a sit, leaning against the headboard of the bed. “Change? At least?” You tilt your head at him and he relents with a sigh.

“Alright.” He says as he turns to unlock the suitcase which Annie had arrange to have brought up to your room earlier. He scrambles in the code and pulls out the sleep shorts and tshirt you have sitting on top of your half of the suitcase. “Here you-”He turns back to find you tugging your top off your head before throwing it to the ground.

The sight makes him freeze, much to his confusion. He has seen you in equally less before, in two piece swimsuits at the beach, so seeing you in a bra, shouldn’t have been anything new, but the sight of you, glassy eyes, messy hair, sitting in bed against white sheets, in a black bra, trying to shimmy yourself out of your jeans - it knocked the wind out of him. Jake clenches his jaw, as the sight of you makes his blood rush south.

“Here.” He doesn’t take another step towards you, and opts for tossing the garments at you while fighting the urge to let his gaze trail down below your neck. If it had been any other woman, he would have let himself look, it would have been the only reason he would have been sharing a room with another woman anyway, but because it’s you, Jake wants to look, and yet, he doesn’t. He exhales audibly as you tug on the shorts and shirt, both thanking and cursing the heavens that you had decided not to pull off your undergarments in your drunken stupor.

“Bed,” he directs, a gruffness to his voice that hadn’t been that prior.

Jake Seresin was just a man, and this - this was killing him.

You smell like a bottle, but all he can think about is how soft you feel pressed up against him, your body curled into a fetal position, your face against his bicep, lips featherlight against his skin, and hands clutching his forearm like you need him. You shift, pulling his forearm closer to your body. It makes the swell of your breasts press against his arm, and Jake exhales loudly. You were his best friend, and he wasn’t supposed to feel the way he felt, but he did, more astutely for months now, and as less so for years.

He wasn’t entirely sure you felt the same way, but he had seen your last break up with Dan after waiting a full three years, and it had only strengthened his resolve to try something, anything because he didn’t want to have to wait another three years for his next chance. Jake’s breathe catches as you nuzzle your face against his bicep.

Using his free hand, he pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes looking up to the sky, as if asking for strength as one of your legs hooks over his in your sleep.

You wake to the blaring of your phone alarm, the harsh sound drilling through your addled brain. You roll over, burying your face in the pillow as you reach out, hand feeling blindly around the bedside table for your phone. In a fumble, you manage to snooze your alarm. Keeping your face planted in your pillow, you groan as the dull throbbing in your head creeps up on you, faint memories of the number of drinks you and Annie had pounded into your systems floating back through your recollections. Your phone blares again, and you groan again, louder this time as you smack a hand down on the screen, fingers pressing down on the flat surface until silence befalls.

“Are you just going to keep fighting with your phone?”

“Yes.” Your voice is a croak.

“It’s 10.30.”

You sigh deeply, flipping yourself onto your side as you pull the covers up to your chest, groggily tearing your eyes open. You had Annie’s rehearsal at noon - you weren’t part of the bridal party, but you had promised you would be there to help her make sure everything went by without a hitch.

As your eyes open, the blurry figure in front of you sharpens into focus and despite the haze of your hangover, the sight in front of you makes your eyes widen further. Jake stands before you, white towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist, droplets of water dripping from his head of wet hair sliding south down his chest, abs, and adonis belt to meet the edge of the towel clinging to his waist. You let your gaze linger, just for a moment, on the sprinkling of hair that vanishes past the towel, your core clenching. You’ve seen him shirtless multiple times in your life, but never fresh out of the shower, never like this.

He picks tablets and a glass of water up from the table in the room and crosses the space to you.

“Open.” His hands are beside your mouth and you obey, parting your lips. He pushes the tablets in, gently, one by one as, his fingers skimming your bottom lip, before handing you the glass of water. Holding the painkillers between your tongue and the roof of your mouth, you come to a slow sit, before receiving the glass of water from him and sipping to swallow.

“I got you a bagel,” he points to the brown paper bag sitting on the table, “bacon and egg. Figured you wouldn’t have time before the rehearsal.”

“Thanks,” you say between sips of the glass of water. “Did you go for a run?” You eye his pair of running shoes which lie in the corner of the room.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs, still standing in front of you. The shrug of his body causes the towel to slip, just slightly, and your gaze shifts from his face, back to its edge.

Jake doesn’t miss the shift in your gaze, and the subtle but sharp inhale.

“See something you like?” You flexes the muscles in his core, and watches as your head snaps back up to his eyes in a movement that is far too fast for your current hungover state to tolerate.

“Ow.” You raise a hand to the side of your head, eyes closing as you let your brain which feels like its floating around, steady.

“No need to hurt yourself darlin,” his voice is silky smooth as he brings his hand against the other side of your head, his four fingers brushing lightly against your forehead, thumb gently kneading your temple in a soothing motion. “Just gotta ask any time you want to look.”

“Shut up Seresin.” You bring the glass back up to your lips and chug.

“Meeting a friend.”

You glance sideways at him, you both standing in the lift as it descends towards the lobby.

“A friend?” You ask, the inflexion in your voice making the right side of his lip go upwards.

“Yup.” He says a bit too loudly, and you can hear the mirth in his voice.

The lift doors slide open with a ding and he allows you to step out into the lobby before following behind you.

“Who?” You opt for asking him outright, finding yourself wanting to know more than you should.

“A friend.” His answer is vague, unlike his usual candid self, and it makes your brows dip into a frown.

“I don’t want to come back to a third person in my room.” The tone of your retort coming out sharper than expected, you fighting against his vague responses with a worded implication.

“I’m not bringing anyone back.” He faces you as you both stop in the middle of the lobby, noticing Annie in a distance engaged in conversation with a group of women. You can’t see his eyes behind his shades. “That bed is far too small for a third person.” He lifts his glasses off the bridge of his nose, giving him enough time to throw you a wink before dropping them back down. “Besides, I think it’s the right size for just you and me.”

The tone of his last sentence is like honey, his words dripping with suggestion and you feel a heat creep up the sides of your neck, tinging across your cheeks.

Jake notices Annie striding forward towards you both, her heels clacking against the marble floors. “Incoming.” He warns and you turn your head, hand raised in a small wave at your approaching friend. “I’ll see you later.” He throws a quick wave at Annie and you feel his lips press against your cheekbone in a kiss so brief and light that you barely have time to register it.

The rehearsal the day before had passed in a flurry of activity, with Annie dragging you, along with her bridal party to a celebratory dinner after. You had texted Jake to let him know that you would be late coming in for the night, he had responded with a text that had simply read “Don’t get drunk again. If you do, call me.”, and you had come back to find him fast asleep, his phone half shoved under his pillow.

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, a hand clutching the front of your dress to your chest, and the other bent awkwardly behind you as you try to zip yourself into your dress. Throwing your hands up in their air with a huff, your posture slumps slightly in defeat, it was a near impossible task for one person to do alone.

Twisting the handle, you open the bathroom door, venturing out into the room to seek help.

“You need to zip me up, I can’t zip myself up.” You find Jake lounging back in an armchair, the television blaring in the background, as he types on his phone. In the time it takes for him to look up from his phone, you let yourself drink in the sight of him hair gel free and brushed back, face cleanly shaven, bow tie hanging around his neck but still undone against the cloth of the crisp white shirt he had paired with a black suit jacket and pants.

Jake looks up to you standing before him, a light dusting of make up on your face, hair swept up into a loose updo, locks framing your face, both hands clutching the front of your dress to your chest.

“Turn,” he directs as he stands and you feel him anchor his left hand on your waist, fingers splayed out on the material of your dress as his right hand pulls the zip of your dress up. You look up to meet his eyes in the mirror of the dresser. “You’re missing something.” His voice is a murmur in your ear and you tilt your head in question. “Close your eyes.”

“You better not be doing anything weird”

“Trust me.”

You eye him in the mirror in warning, before closing your eyes. There is a rustling, the soft pop of a box being opened, and you feel his hands go around your head. You can feel cool metal against your skin and his fingers brushing the exposed nape of your neck.

“Done.”

You open your eyes to find your reflection, but with an added silver coloured chain holding a single solitaire lying against your collarbone.

“Jake Seresin, you did not.” You lean forward to stare at your reflection, fingers ghosting over the the chain and pendant.

“Met a friend of Doris’ to get it yesterday afternoon.” He offers you his trademark Jake Seresin smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, pearly whites shining, revealing in the process just what he had gotten up to yesterday afternoon. It makes your heart skip a beat and your skin tingle.

“Jake,” you begin your protest as you shuffle around to face him, “it’s beautiful, but I can’t, it’s too expensive. I’ll pay you back.”

“Sweetheart,” he cocks his head to a side, “you’ll do no such thing.”

“But Jake-” he cuts you off with a firm shake of his head.

“What kind of southern gentleman would I be?” He teases, and instead tugs at the corner of his untied bowtie. “Do up my bowtie, and we’ll call it even.”

“That is hardly fair,” you purse your lips with a tut. “And besides, I don’t know how to do up a bowtie.”

“It’s easy, I’ll guide you.”

He moves like lightning, not giving you time to think and takes a few steps backward to sit on the edge of the bed, parting his legs and tugging you forward to stand in between his legs by your fingers. He places his hands over yours and guides you along, both your hands and his doing up his bowtie.

“And done, now you know how to tie a bowtie.” Your fingers are still grasping the edges of the bow around his neck and his hands are over yours. You find yourself staring into his eyes, the greens of his pupils piercing your own.

“Jake,” you breathe out, noticing just how close you both are, you standing between his legs, your head just inches from his. You can feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Yeah?” He holds your gaze steady, and the world around you both quietens, you aren’t sure what you are you feeling, but you feel a fluttering in the pit of your stomach, and the sudden urge to be even closer to him.

You drop a hand from the corners of his bowtie, not thinking, just feeling, and bring it to rest on the corner of his jaw. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move, but keeps his gaze slotted onto yours.

“Housekeeping.” The knock on the door makes you jump backwards, your hand dropping from his face. You glance at the clock, seeing the digits flash close to 3:00pm.

“We better go, or we’ll be late.”

“I’m pretty sure the entire New York is here.” You hold onto Jake’s elbow as you both tread along the crowd floating from the ceremony towards the reception. The wedding ceremony itself had been beautiful, set in a huge hall in the same hotel, fashioned to look like a church. You hadn’t shed any tears, but they had most definitely gathered in the corners of your eyes as you watched your friend exchange your vows up on the makeshift alter. Jake had placed a hand on your knee, squeezing lightly when you sniffled and you had welcomed the comfort, though the gesture had made your heart beat slightly faster, memories of the earlier incident nagging at the back of your mind.

“I’m pretty sure the entire New York high society is here.” He muses back.

“Moneybags.” You shrug, imitating his initial reaction from the other day. It causes the older couple walking in front of you both to turn and stare, and you duck your head down, stifling your laughter while Jake tips his head at them with a “hello”, in a pronounced drawl. It makes them exchange a look and take two steps further up.

“They must think we’re awful.”

“Too uncouth for the upper echelons of the city.” He winks at you, and it makes you laugh.

“What would Doris say.” You squeeze his elbow in jest.

“Give ‘em hell.” He deadpans, voice sliding into a rich southern accent, reminiscent of his grandmother, causing you to burst into a fit of laughter.

“I think this is us.” You stop at a table, squinting at the place cards, one with your name and the other with your name and the word “guest” after.

“That’s me,” Jake picks up the card, holding it in front of himself. “Guest.”

You open your mouth to respond, when a loud voice calling your name breaks through the hum of the crowd filtering into the ballroom.

“Lexi.” You turn, calling out her name, forcing a smile onto your face. Jake picks up on her name, and your conversation with Annie over the phone and drops the place card back onto the table. He eases himself close beside you as Lexi weaves past a group of people to come to a stand in front of you. She grabs you by the arms, air kissing the sides of your face and you oblige her.

“Guess we are the same table,” she gushes, her enthusiasm sky high, “I’m so glad.”

“How wonderful.” You grit out a smile at her words, the implications behind them on your company for the night ringing clear.

“Lexi?” You hear Dan before you see him, the once familiar voice grating across your ears.

“Over here cookie.” You watch Lexi coo back as Dan comes into view. The sight of him makes you grip your hand into a fist by your side and your shoulders go rigid.

“Oh… hey.”

You open your mouth to greet him in return, your shoulders squaring further when you feel a the gentle pressure of Jake’s palm on the small of your back.

“Dan.” Jake greets him, tone firm. You feel Jake step close to you, your back connecting with his chest as his hand travels from the small of your back to rest, relaxed, on your hip. You allow yourself to lean back into his hold, the tension in your shoulders seeping away as your fist relaxes. His fingers rub your hip, letting you know wordlessly that he’s got you.

You see Dan’s gaze flicker from Jake, to judge your proximity, and the hand he has on your hip.

“Jake.” He nods back in greeting.

“I’m Lexi.” Lexi assesses the situation, her eyes taking in Jake. You see her face break into a coy smile, as she extends her hand towards him. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from rolling your eyes at the absurdity of the situation, with her knowing that you and Dan had been a couple, outrightly greeting you as if nothing had ever happened, all while deciding that the next best thing to do was to openly leer at Jake.

“Jake.” He offers, but not reaching for her hand. Instead, he chooses to snake his other arm around, letting it come to rest on the front of your body. “You’ll have to excuse me for not shaking your hand Lexi, got my hands full with this one.” He shoots her a patronising, apologetic grin and you watch as Lexi drops her hand immediately looking slightly abashed.

“Are you a couple?” She asks, her eyes widening, mouth dropping into a small o.

“Don’t we look like one?” Jake counters, as you place your hand over his palm that is resting on the front of your body. You interweave your fingers together with him, and he squeezes gently, his cue to tell you to play along. You squeeze back, in understanding.

“It’s not that, it’s just, I thought…” Lexi turns her attention to you, “that you were still single.” She looks back at Dan, slightly puzzled, “Dan said -”

“She is most definitely not single,” Jake’s voice slides across your ear, a low chuckle escaping him as he pulls you closer, pressing you to him. He bends his head slightly, and you feel his lips skimming the side of your jaw.

“Not in the slightest.” You manage to murmur, voice genuinely breathy at the contact of his lips against your jaw, and his body against yours as you look towards Lexi and Dan.

“I don’t get why they are still staring.” You arm is hooked under Jake’s arm, fingers resting on the shoulder of his suit jacket, your cheek pressed against his as you both sway to the music, you catching Lexi and Dan’s gaze hyper focused on you and Jake from two couples away. Jake’s hand is on your back, his other interlaced with your hand, leading you through the dulcet tones.

Since the initial interaction with Lexi and Dan, some part of Jake had never left you for the entire night. Whether you were both eating, listening to wedding speeches, drinking, or watching a cheesy video montage that played, Jake was always touching you, playing into the role that you both had sold, a dutiful boyfriend who was absolutely smitten with you. Whether it was his hand on your thigh, palm engulfing yours, hand slung across the back of your chair, fingertips brushing your shoulder blades, he had not once let you out of his sight or touch. It was comforting, nice to have him there to ground you, to make your night bearable.

“I hate them both.” He says, and you hear the hardness to his tone.

“She’s glaring daggers at me.” You groan softly. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to hunt me down and murder me Jake. I mean, she’s pretty much spent the entire night sending bad vibes my way.”

Jake leads you both into a turn, and he catches sight of the couple staring over. It baffled him, if he were to be honest about it, because you were faultless in the entire situation, no matter how he ran the parameters of it. Dan had been a lying, cheating asshole, and by the looks of it, along with a little deduction, Lexi was no better than he was. He catches Dan’s eye, and it makes Jake narrow his gaze.

“If they’re staring, let’s give them something to stare at.” He says quietly into your ear and it makes you pull your head back slightly in a curious questioning. “Trust me?” He asks, and you nod immediately. Despite all the teasing and barbs you exchanged, it didn’t need to be a question, you trusted Jake Seresin with your life.

Jake untangles his leading hand from yours, moving both his hands to cup your face. You keep your arm hooked under his shoulder, fingers pressed firmly down on the shoulder of his suit jacket. He runs his thumb across your cheek, asking you again, his voice almost a whisper as he asks the same question again, face mere inches from yours. “Trust me?”

“Yes.” You breathe back offering him verbal confirmation, and his gaze flickers to your lips, before going back to your eyes. He holds eyes contact with you for what feels like eternity, and then you feel it, his lips against yours. Your eyes flutter close instantly, your lips moving against him like second nature. Jake Seresin’s lips were softer, warmer than you would have ever imagined.

He drops a single hand back down to grip your waist, the other still cupping the side of your face, and you raise your hand that isn’t wrapped under his shoulder, to card through the back of his hair. Jake uses only his lips against yours, but it’s all you need for your knees to go weak. You pull away first, breathless, and you leans his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, breathing heavy.

“I think we gave them something to stare at.” You manage to say, your heart racing in your chest.

Jake opens his eyes to look into yours, his gaze feeling like it is piercing through to your soul, his heart beat matching yours. “I think we did.”

You are lying on your side, back facing Jake, your mind racing at a million miles per second. You both hadn’t spoken about the kiss, each of you lost in your own thoughts and feelings that that kiss had brought up, each wondering how to best tackle the after, and just what after meant.

“Jake?” You call out into the silence of the room.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you,” you pause and he lets you continue, “for coming with me to the wedding, for taking days off, for everything.”

“You would do the same for me.”

“Yeah, but thank you.”

You both lie in the dark, in contemplative silence before Jake speaks up again.

“How are you feeling?”

You hum in question and he elaborates.

“You know the whole… Dan thing.” He braces himself, afraid of the answer, of you telling him that you were still in love with Dan.

You let yourself think for a minute, assessing his question against your feelings before you answer.

“Fine.” You say simply.

“Really?”

“Yeah really,” you confirm, “I think,” you pause, selecting your words carefully, “it was over long before it was actually over. I mean I had a hunch months before you know, about the cheating, the lying, maybe even the fact that there were no feelings between us both for a while at that point - but it was easier to believe nothing was going on than to admit your boyfriend is cheating on you.”

“You were really upset.” He recalls the day you had called him, crying.

“Anyone would be if they found out their boyfriend had been cheating on them… serially.” You let out a rueful chuckle. “Kind of a bruise to the ego, don’t you think.”

“Fair point,” he shrugs and you feel the shared covers shift slightly at his action. “So…” he hesitates, “you’re really okay?”

“Yes.”

“No…. residual feelings for Dan?”

“Apart from the fact that I think he’s disgusting - none.” You shake your head hair rustling against your pillow. “There weren’t any feelings left long before the break up.” You find yourself admitting out loud.

Jake doesn’t respond, but you hear the crackle of the crisp hotel sheets as he turns, slides an arm across the space between you, under your ribs, and rolls you easily towards him. It catches you off guard, but you let him tuck you under his chin anyway, his arms hugging you against him in a loose embrace. A pull back of your head and dart of your eyes upwards reveals his eyes are closed. The act manages to be simple and yet entirely intimate, entirely too intimate for a pair of people who were just friends, but you can’t help thinking to yourself how it just feels so right that you don’t allow yourself to overthink any of it.

“Good.” He finally says, and you shut your eyes as well, letting your breathing steady.

“So you and Jake.” Annie asks as you both hover around the side of the coffee shop, waiting for the barista to call our your names.

“Hmm?” You stick your hands into the back pocket of your jeans while rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Anything going on there?” Annie asks as the barista calls your both your names, you both reaching for two cups of coffee each - her for Charles and herself and you for you and Jake. “Saw you both kiss yesterday.”

Her casual add on makes you splutter as you take a sip of your coffee while you both weave your way out of the coffee shop.

“We were just pretending,” you try to say dismissively, your face burning, “you know for Lexi and Dan.”

“Uh-huh,” she hums, not believing.

“What?” You shoot her a glare as you both duck out the doors, making the short walk back to the hotel.

“Pretending,” she waggles her eyebrows at you and she sips from her own coffee cup.

“Pretending.” You affirm, shooting a smile at the doorman who has the door held open for you both.

“He might be in love with you.” Annie says casually as you both cross the threshold of the lobby to find Charles and Jake, a distance away, both engaged in conversation.

“Annie,” you warn, but a glance at you reveals to her the way your eyes light up as your gaze fixates on Jake. “We’re just friends, best friends.”

“Just saying,” she ignores your previous attempts at denial as the two men notice you both and begin walking towards you, “you might not feel so different from him either.”

You don’t have the time to respond with Jake and Charles stopping in front of you before you can get any words out, so you choose to hand Jake his coffee cup instead, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm, as he receives it with a thanks.

“Well,” Annie turns to you, arms outstretched as the doorman waves at the four of you, indicating that the car they had called for you had arrived, “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.” You bend forward to return her hug with a nod. “You don’t see what I do.” She says with a soft smile as you pull away, causing both men to look between you both, clearly confused.

>> PART 4

Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra @imagineyneyjr @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ive-got-more-wit @fuzzy-panda @helloimhereforabit @meowimakellysaurusrex @t-rexs @iangiemae @shawnsthighs @cxit-writes @shanimallina87 @dempy @mell-bell @saynotononsense @justsplendidd @dont-talk-me-down @the-cranck-hobbit @callsign-marlie

#flyboy #not cm #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x you #hangman x reader #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #jake seresin #hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #flyboy fic

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goldessia · 2 months

Text

⋆⋆⋆ ┊ heavens blessing, levi ackerman . . .

warnings: rivals to lovers, bickering/arguments, sad love confession, close-death experience, levi is kind of mean in the beginning

type: flangst ( my fav <3 )

a/n: i made this at like, 3am, so please excuse how horrible it is :’)

MY life was one thing—a fight to the top. a fight to power.

levi ackerman ranked just above me in our cadet training. that second place title killed me.

i used to hate when people compared us. when they said, “she’s only second to levi.” if anything, i loathed it. i should be on top, i should be the captain—but of course, when the time came around, he had two more titan kills than me. now, we are tied.

levi never failed to make it known that he was ranked higher. if anything, he found it amusing that it was he who qualified and not me. and boy, did he abuse his power.

now, levi was walking past us, handing out shift assignments.

“eren, border control.” he moves on, “armin, go meet hanji for the security meeting.” and finally, he stops at me. instead of reading off his clipboard like he did for the others, he places it behind him, and stares straight at me.

“last and very least..” he slants his head, “y/n. stable duty.”

anger envelopes me. “what? you can’t do that! i’m the best soldier here, i’d be much more use out there!”

he clicks his tongue. “ooh, that’s where you’re wrong.” he leans closer, “you’re second-best. remember?”

i grumble. “just because you ranked above me—by, might i remind you, two kills—doesn’t mean you can just push me around. i’m still the best solider here, ranking or not.

“and i have a feeling you’re just putting me on stable duty so i don’t have a chance to pass you in kills.” i spit.

he takes a deep breath, and leans toward me. his eyes are almost frightening—cold, icey and direct. i want to shrink under his stare, his posture, his very aura.

“you’re right.” he says, “i do rank above you. and you know what that means?” his eyes narrow. “that means i can do whatever the fuck i want with you.”

i open my mouth to speak, but he doesn’t give me the chance.

“do you want another week of stable duty? because i can do that. talk back to me again, and you’ll face the consequences.”

my jaw clenches in anger. my eyes glare into his, but both him and i can tell i’m losing this battle.

“you got it?” he says. when i don’t respond, he repeats himself. “do you understand, soldier?”

i murmur a “yes, captain.”

“louder.”

“yes,” i inhale, before spitting out the word—“captain.”

“say it nicer.”

something inside me snaps, “no. you know what?” i push him back, “i’m done. give me stable duty, at-least it will keep me away from you, and your sadistic, weirdo self.”

with that, i storm away. a little childish, i agree, but i knew if i stayed any longer i’d argue with levi until the sun set. at-least i get a break, today.

behind me, i hear a few of the new soldiers defending me. they say things like, “don’t you think that was a bit far, levi?” or, “i kind of agree, her skills would be useful out there..” but they were instantly shut down by levi.

— - mid-night . . approx. six hours later.

i felt disgusting. after hours of working in the stables, a long, hot shower was just the thing i needed. i wrung the water out of my hair, and since it was around eleven pm i knew everyone would be asleep. so, i threw on my pyjama’s, and stepped out of the shower corridors.

i wanted to murder levi, consequences be damned. he never failed to make an absolute fool out of me. one day, i swore i’d get him back.

as i turned the corner, my heart stopper in my chest when i saw a figure in-front of me, but it was too late—i had already collided with them.

“huh—! watch it—“ levi cuts himself off when he realises it’s me. “oh. what are you doing here?”

“uh, crazy concept, but i also live here.” i spit. his eyes narrow, before travelling over me, head to toe and back to my face.

“lights out was an hour ago. you shouldn’t be out here.”

“that’s why i was trying to get back to my room, before you rudely got in my way.” i say. he blinks. “so.. move.”

the corner of his lip snags up. “say please.”

i scoff. “you’re such a prick,” i spit, pushing past him. before i can keep walking, he roughly grabs my arm, stopping me.

“remember who’s in control here, y/n.” he says coldly, “or, did you forget all of your training?” he tuts, “you have to be dismissed before you can walk away from your superiors.”

“eat shit, ackerman.”

“that’s captain levi to you.”

i rip my arm from his grasp. “you’re too cocky for your own good.” i turn to face him, “from now on, ranking or not, you need to learn to respect me. i can just as easily surpass you.

“you’ll need to get used to calling me captain l/n. just a matter of time, if you keep up with abusing your power just to mess with me.”

“tough chance.” he says with a slight chuckle, “goodnight, y/n.”

“off yourself.”

with that, i spin on my heel and stalk away from him.

— - the next day . . dawn

i was ready for another day of stable duty. if anything, i was kind of happy to spend another peaceful day with the horses. i was prepared for it.

“yeah, about that.” levi says. this time, he isn’t looking at me, but at the ground. “erwin..” he grits, “insisted you come on the mission today. said that.. your skills would be useful.”

my brows raise. a small smile finds my lips. “what was that? sorry, i couldn’t hear you. something about.. how i’m skilled?”

“i’m not repeating myself.” he snarls, “get your gear, and meet us by the gate. don’t be late.”

he stalls away like an angry child who didn’t get his favourite toy. i chuckle, and walk toward the supply room.

i meet the rest of them by the gate. the line consisted of a few of the rookies—eren, reiner, connie, and jean, and beside them, hanji, erwin and levi, who’s holding the reins to a horse beside him which i suspect is mine.

with a tall chest, i walk toward levi. “i believe that’s mine.”

he spares me one look, before making a tch sound with his lips, throwing the reins toward me.

hanji briefs us a look, before whispering in a not-so-subtle voice, “are you sure it’s a good idea to pair them together? i don’t think the rookies need to hear their bickering all day.”

levi’s head snaps toward them, “we don’t bicker.”

“yeah. he’s just a pain in my ass most the time, that’s all.” i say with a smirk.

he looks to me. “if anything, you’re the thorn in my side. always needing saving, always complaining-“

“uh—! name one time i’ve ever needed your saving. and i don’t complain!”

“uh, let’s see, two days ago?” he deadpans.

“that was not saving—“

“yeah. you definitely don’t bicker.” jean chuckles.

“shut up, rookie!” levi and i say simultaneously. we look to each-other, opening our mouths to speak before erwin cuts us both off.

“today, you two. are you forgetting we have responsibilities? your flirting can wait till later.” erwin says, pulling the reins so his horse turns.

my face heats up. “we’re not flirting!” we say together again.

“stop saying what i say.” levi narrows his eyes.

“you’re saying what i’m saying!”

“you were given an order.” erwin’s voice hardens. erwin wasn’t usually too hard on us, but his patience can only stretch so far before it snaps.

i look down, and mutter a, “sorry, sir.”

he nods, just once. “good. now, we have a mission to get to.”

“yes sir!”

— - approx. one hour later . .

titans were all around us, at every angle. a huge herd just appeared out of no-where while we were travelling to the next way-point, and thank god we happened to be passing through a city.

levi and i were together, like usual, and we had all split up into groups of two. and like usual.. we made it into a competition.

“i bet you two training days i’ll kill more than you.”

“hah—! you got yourself a deal.” levi says, before turning and zipping away from me.

ahead of me were two ten-meter titans—easy money. i press the blade, zipping toward them, manoeuvring away from their hands and slicing my blade across his nape. it falls to the ground with a loud thud, and i lock my line to the second ones nape.

THUD.

. . . five titans later, i had gotten a bit carried away. i didn’t realize i was using so much gas, and that my blades were on their last pair.

shit, shit, shit! is all i can think as i race faster away from the five-meter titan right on my tail. i was dead, so dead. i had run out of gas, and i realised before i could think i had reached a dead-end. my leg is slashed from when i fell, and my run is looking more like a desperate limp.

the titan was closing in on me. i turned, scanning the area for something i could do, but that was it. i was cornered. there was no running.

the titan crouches in-front of me, and for the first time in my life i was truly, rawly scared. the titans never scared me when i was a kid, or a cadet, but now..

the titan’s mouth was curled into a horrifying smile. it’s eyes were bulging, hands and chin covered in blood from a previous city’s massacre.

this was it. as i was lifted off the ground, i accepted my fate. my eyes moved toward the sun. i didn’t want the last thing i’d look at to be it’s face.

huh. i never noticed how warm the sun was. i guess i should’ve appreciated nature a bit more. i would have, if i knew this was the day i was going to die.

it’s mouth opened. i could smell it’s foul breath, smelling of human flesh.

i guess you win, levi. just this once.

SHING!

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF HER!”

SLASH.

i fell to the ground. my back slammed against the pavement, and i cried out in pain. my head was fuzzy, mostly from the fall.

i hear the wind in my ear as i am picked up, and the sound of metal whipping as i’m brought to the roof.

my vision focuses when i am placed down on a roof. oh. it’s levi. he is speaking, but i can’t really hear him that well.

“damnit, damnit!”

his hands are on my face. his eyes are scanning me for injuries. why is he doing that? why does he care..

“fuck, please be okay, REINER, OVER HERE!”

“SAY SOMETHING!”

oh. now i can hear him.

i wince, my eyes fluttering as they focused on levi’s face. no, that can’t be levi.. why is he crying? levi wouldn’t cry.

“what happened?” i register it to be reiner’s voice, and i turn to him. i push myself up, crying out from the pain in my back, my head. i touch my hand to the back of my head, looking at the blood on my fingers.

“it’s alright, it’s nothing, i’m fine—!”

two arms are wrapped around me. clutching me tight. daring to never let go.

levi.. is hugging me.

“god damnit.. you idiot! what were you thinking?!”

“you’re.. hugging me.” i mean to say in my head, but i say out-loud by accident.

he pulls away, grasping my face in his hands. his hands are shaking. “don’t you ever do that again. you hear me?! i’ll give you damn stable duties everyday if you don’t smarten up!”

“i- you— i can’t promise i won’t—“

“nearly killing yourself over a stupid bet, really?! i can’t believe you—“

“levi.”

“out of all the stupid, idiotic, irrational things you’ve done—“

“levi—“

“seriously! if i didn’t get here when i did, you’d have been dead, and over what? an unsettled—“

“LEVI!”

“what?!”

i pant, placing a hand on his shoulder. “stop. fucking. talking.”

he stares at me for a second. then, a smile cracks on his lips. then a laugh. “i love you so fucking much.”

copr. goldessia. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, share on other platforms without credit/permission.

#attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi aot #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #aot one shot #aot image #fluff

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yourlocalstranger123 · 1 year

Note

Hello hello!

So you know how you made a small series where Genshin characters get kissed on the face with hard to remove lipstick?

I was thinking, how would that situation play out with characters like Venti and Gorou? Both of them seem to have bad self-esteem.

Honestly. 10/10 good idea.

Genshin SAGAU x reader part 4

You know, when people degrade themselves, saying horrible things about themselves.

So you made a rule that when you hear EVEN ONE thing that includes something that degrades themselves, they will be punished personally by you.

It involves lipstick💄 so if you don't like wearing lipstick and being a ✨️bAdDiE✨️ then this ain't for you.

Warning: can you read long? Because this is pretty long.

`~•°☆°•~`

Gorou

Website: Danbooru. Artist: ? Homare (ghmr88)

You were one hell of a bored God. Honestly, you kinda wanted to see him dressed as miss- *cough cough* Hina, you decided to blend in as a soldier and sneak in to see him. You may have brought an outfit for him to wear.

On the way, you tried to not chuckle when you saw some fans squealing in excitement to see Miss Hina. You were also bringing a handmade outfit you made so at least 'she' try it on before going to 'her' usual outfit.

Oh, how you were gonna tease those fluffy ears and tail of his. Don't forget about how pretty he looks in his outfit. You smile happily, strolling to his place.

Before you went to his place, you checked the time. Of course, you don't wanna be late! You don't wanna miss-...oh...You forgot. It starts tomorrow....ig the fans also forgot LOL but you can still see him in the outfit you made! And only for you to see ♥︎

You slowly peeked to see if he is sleeping. He did have a lot of work to do, so he should be asleep right now. And as expected. He is.

You swiftly and quietly sneaked past him to put a little note with the clothing in the box.

Dear Gorou or should I say, Miss Hina

When you wake up, I'll be waiting for you in the extra room. But before you do that, I do hope you wear the outfit! Make sure you are not caught, because this sight is for only me to see!

♥︎♥︎♥︎

To gorou

From your dear creator ★

As you are about to leave, you heard Gorou sleep talk. He seems to be having a nightmare, you decided to go check it out.

"No, no! You can't die...please... I'm sorry, it's all my fault, please! Don't leave me...."

You slowly reached to his face, cupping his cheeks. He unconsciously snuggled into the warmth you gave. Slightly tugging your sleeve. You decided to let him rest and tried to let go but his grip was getting tighter, whimpering for you to stay. You gave in and went to bed with him.

◆

You woke up to the feeling of a fluffy tail wrapping around your leg. You see Gorou looking down in embarrassment, whispering a sorry. You gave him an amused smile as you pet the fluffy ears.

You reminded him that he had to dress up as Miss Hina and go. He frowned but complied. He was about to go to the makeup drawer, you went there before he could get it and got a red lipstick.

*kiss*

He was heating up, you only kissed his lips. Surprisingly soft though.

"Now you don't have to worry, I already applied some lipstick to your lips! With yours Although..." You kissed the back of his neck. "Heh, good luck with getting rid of that one! *wink*" you ran away with a smirk before he could process. Of course, Yae Miku takes notice of his strange behavior. Even though the necklace covered it, she knew what was going on. Thanks to the smudge on the edge of his lips She is going to tease him so hard.

Bonus Scenario:

Gorou: I- is it getting hot in here or is it just m- me?

Reader: maybe it's because you're so hot dear~

*continues playing with his ears*

Gorou: *blushes harder*

Rumor has it, he is still malfunctioning to this moment.

Website: Danbooru. Artist: tyo197snh

Venti

First 2 pictures: website/app: Reddit.

Artist: MarQuaine

Last one: website: danbooru. Artist: einelitas

You wanted to go rest outside for a bit, it was a bit exhausting to give people blessings every day and just sit in one place. You went to wind rise. You liked the way the wind is so calming, but you felt something was out of place.

You ignored the feeling and continued strolling down to Wind rise. You stopped at the sound of a lyre playing, although it sounds calming, deep inside it has such sorrow. You knew it was Venti. You knew him well, although he doesn't express it. You felt the sadness, even as he is currently a drunk bard.

He hasn't noticed your presence since he was so drunk. He started to play the lyre again. He also sang a familiar song.

Fly, fly away.

Like a bird in the sky.

See the world on my behalf...

To the heavens may you fly...

As he finished, he sat down. Looking at the sky as the birds glide through with the wind. You decided to step up, you sat beside him. He looks at you smiling, laying his head on your shoulder. He fell asleep soon after, intertwining his hands with yours.

You felt tears on your shoulder, you moved your head to him. Kissing away the tears, gently letting him on your lap. You put your coat over him while humming a tune. Slowly singing the words.

[Could be any song. Even the genshin backround music in the login lol]

"Hello, my little windblume. Did you have a nice sleep?"

You greeted him with a smile. He snuggled onto your neck. Smiling at the nickname you gave him. If you looked closer, you could've seen light pink ears as he hides onto your neck. You had to go, although he saw lipstick in your pocket. He doesn't think much about it, until.....

Aether: hey, I just visited back here to see you painted yourself?

*venti in clear confusion.*

*grabs a mirror*

Venti:....i- HuuUuuUUHHh?!

Reader in the background: heh.

*later*

*aether tries to wipe it off*

Venti: woah, it's not necessary to wipe it off.

Aether: venti. Who walks around with lipstick everywhere on their face?

Venti: me.

Aether:....

Now there was a rumor going around that a bard was running in mondstadt with lipstick all over his face. Smiling so happily, while the traveler was chasing down him trying to wipe the lipstick off his face. Pouting as he struggled to get away from the traveler who is going to great lengths to get it off.

App/website: Reddit. User: Hornyheracross

Another rumor venti didn't totally create was that creator was the one who put lipstick on him.

Bonus!

Adult version

Venti

Website: Deviantart Artist: Tiretsu

App: Twitter. Artist: soleilrune

Website: Deviantart. Artist: sayuuhiro

Gorou!

App: Reddit/Twitter/insta User: Lapstle

(Idk anymore honestly)

I couldn't find anymore

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dia-souls · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Kino 🎮 and Yui 🌸

Author: Admin Irsa

Genre : ⚠️ Romance, Tragedy end ⚠️

TW: Forced relationship, Pregnancy, Blood mentioned, Death, Tragedy Ending

Admin's Note: I am back with another one shot and this time pairing is kino and Yui as we all know there is not so many fics about them that is something that hyped me while writting it. Kinoyui and Shinyui has very strong rivalry for being my fav that's the reason I asked for your opinion. I don't know how I came up with this idea tbh words came to me while writting I hope you all will enjoy as there aren't much CD and route related to Kino so it was a bit hard to create a Kinoyui one shot.....

🌟 Distant Stars 🌟

Kino sighed as he looked at Yui sleeping besides him peacefully. His hand caressed her tender cheek which has now become chubby because of her good health. This has become a daily routine of her arguing with Kino. Kino used to reply her back but stopped because Yui got sensitive and starts crying and then he comforts her then she sleeps, his hand went to her bulging belly which had his and Yui's child inside.

This child is forced on her. Yui doesn't love Kino but he is sure this feeling inside his heart is love for her the amount of pride he feels when he sees her belly.

Kino got up from their bed. He pulled cover on her, letting her rest. He has now become king of vampires and he needs to do work. After killing all Sakamaki and Mukami he become the only option to the throne. Yui was now his wife, he had an eye on her for long time.

Kino at start saw Yui as a plaything. He didn't care what she wants. She was alive for his amusement, but he started catching feelings for her and he thought this feeling isn't love. Kino as a big fool denied this feeling and called it lust. As time passed he realized that he is desperate for her for, her presence which frustrated him to the core so he decided to get physical with her their intimacy was forced as Yui had zero feelings for him.

He did forced her but after the deed he had big regret. He did felt good by doing it but the moment he looked at Yui crying and sobbing, his heart ache. She after that started avoiding him and locked herself in room refusing to see him, Kino also decided to avoid her as he thought it was best, during their time apart kino realized how much he loves her.

His confession was met with a huge slap on the face, Yui had tears rolling down her cheeks like a waterfall and he immediately left her alone. Reassured that Yuri would take care of her, the news of Yui's pregnancy came out and that's what made them be able to communicate normally again.

Kino loved this child, he had many reasons to do so, as Yui came out of that room and began to transform into her normal self, this child brought them both closer, as if they were tied, so Yui still has a grudge against him, but Yui is a good person. Morality is what makes her endure Kino. She does all these things just for the sake of her child so that child will be normal. Kino is sure that he will start loving the baby when it is born, because the baby is not born yet, it has changed a lot after it was born, it will become a symbol of their love, Yui and Kino will forget about their past and start a new life with their baby. They will forget past mistakes and regrets.

[{_______________🌹_______________}]

Kino walked in his office to see a pile of documents.

"Ahh! Shit... I miss my old life!"

"Don't say that you are now a king!" Yuri said while bringing more papers.

"Don't remind me... I am so tired. I just work, work and work this is all I do my old man also had this position yet he had enough time to have fun with his children life."

Kino leaned towards his chair and rubbed his temple.

"Kino.... Be serious we need to start working. Besides you need visit vibora castle. They requires your presence."

"What? what thoes snakes want from me?"

"We just received an invitation from them and we need to go there to see what they want."

Kino sighed.

"Yeah.. yeah sure."

"Good let's start working then shall we!" Yuri said while lifting a document.

[{_______________🌹_______________}]

Kino decided to take a break, he got up from his seat then he noticed Yui so he walked closer to the window. He saw Yui walking in garden and looking at roses. Does she like thoes rose? He will make sure to get them planted all over the garden!

Kino eyes widened as he saw Yui gripping the rose which has throns and was hurting herself. Kino immediately teleported their.

"Are you sane!!"

He said while throwing the rose away from her hand and he noticed her hand dripping with her blood. He glared at yui.

He brought her hand closer to his mouth to lick the blood off her hand. But Yui yanked her hand away from him.

"Look what you did ! Idiot!!"

She glared at him.

"Why do you care?! What I do to myself is none of your business!!? "

Kino's face became red with anger but he need to be the calm one as Yui isn't in condition to put stress on. He immediately hit her main point of weakness to make her obey.

"Okay! I won't bother you but.... Yui you have my, I mean our baby inside you, if you hurt yourself the baby will also be hurt... We both agreed that we will change for the baby. So.. you don’t want the baby to become Subaru right?!! "

Yui's eyes widened. That's true she can't do that. She can't be this cruel to her baby, it's her baby after all. Kino might have done wrong to her but their baby is innocent and it did nothing wrong. She looked down because she was embarrassed of her action.

Kino looked at her gently this time. He pulled her for a hug.

"Yui... You and my baby are most important to me.... Please don't hurt yourself like that... I am not saying this because of child inside you but because I love you."

He looked at her pink eyes.

"You already know why I care because I love Yui even if I want I can't stop caring about you."

He smiled lightly and put her hand on his heart.

"It doesn't and can't stop minding its buisness, it always want to look at you and be with you."

Yui's eyes softened at his confession but she can't deny his cruel action.... she looked at him licking the blood off her hand. Kino loves her and cares for her...... he is changing for her. Yui didn't resist or stop him from licking her blood and healing her scars. The scars on her heart are also healing with his gentleness, his patience and love.

"I am going to go out today..... So take care of youself."

"Huh? Where are you going?!" Yui turned to look at him.

Kino smiled at her.

"You don't want me to go?"

Yui remained quite at his words.

Kino smiled as she is behaving like him. When he was catching feeling for her he always wanted to know where she is what is she going to do. Kino knows his relationship is progressing with Yui. Slowly this will turn into love.

"Don't worry, I will return by night. You just need to tak care of yourself till I return." kino walked closer to kiss her forehead and Yui didn't resist and letted him.

[{_______________🌹_______________}]

"LEAVE HER!! ...... You please don't do that don't!! Just don't!!" . Kino yelled as he watched Yui being taken by founder.

"You are no one to stop me vampire, know your place!" Shin said as he kicked him.

He glanced at Yui who was behind him on floor. Yui immediately looked at Kino and started running towards him only to be grabbed by Shin.

"Hoh? Where do you think you are going?!"

Shin threw Yui on hard floor not caring about her condition. It's not like the child is founder or his child.

"YOU BASTARD LEAVE HER - - "

His face met with Shin's kick. Kino spitted blood out. He coughed some blood.

Shin then looked at Yui, walking towards her. Yui crawled away from him fearing his action. Yui whimpered as she was grabbed by her hair.

"Why do you get pregnant by him? You choose to carry a child of some inferior being such as him huh?!! You had a chance to carry a founder child!?!" Shin said as he grabbed her again to lift her.

"No... Nghh... Leave..... Her..... Shin I beg you kill me but leave her and the baby... Please don't touch her please...."

Kino was losing consciousness as he was restrained and now was tired. He cursed at himself for being weak and idiot for falling into Shin's trap he sended a fake invitation so Kino left the palace which made the castle vulnerable as vampire king wasn't present to protect it. Shin attacked the castle while it was vulnerable . And his purpose was to kidnap Yui but Kino upon hearing the news returned immediately but it was too late as Shin threatened to kill Yui if he didn't pass his power to him.

Kino obeyed and transferred power as he was too scared for his family safety.

Shin now became powerful enough to defeat all vampires and ghouls present as his army was already strong but now he is superior.

Shin laughed cruely.

"You know what is going to happen?"

He came to him slowly while smirking he bended to his eye level.

"Nnghh... Agh.... Shin... please..... kill me, leave her.... do.. n't hurt her... "

Kino was nearing his end. Yui was still crying. She was shouting his name as she herself was in sheer pain but her heart was hurting for kino.

Kino laughed sadly at her. She was now begging for him to not to leave her. He knows he isn't going to make it alive out off here just when they were getting closer to happiness reaching their happy ending this happened. Kino can see her love for him and her affection for him.

He wished he can hear her confession.

Shin laughed at scene crazily.

"You know what I plan to do? I plan to dethrone Nii-san and I will become the king, the leader, the only founder alive in this whole world!! Isn't it crazy my dreams are coming true!"

He chuckled. He looked at Yui.

"Don't worry I will make sure you will live. "

He turned to kino.

"I won't hurt her for sure.... But her baby, no! No!! Your baby will die I will replace yours with mine!"

Both of them widened their eyes.

"Yui will live and will be mother of my children. Founders race won't die. They will continue. they will never go extinct."

He turned to Yui and grabbed her face. Yui was now hicupping because of crying so much her face was swollen. Shin looked in her eyes.

"Don't worry! I will quickly give you a baby you won't suffer more I won't hurt you! "

Yui cried at his words.

Shin took his sword out and walked towards Kino.

"No!! NO!! SHIN PLEASE DON'T..... KINO please.... don't..... go.... don't.. lea.. ve.. M.. E!! "

Yui yelled while crying her tears not stopping.

Kino laughed gently at her.

"Don't cry Yui... I hope.... you will live happily... my Yui I love you.... I was so cruel to you forgive.. me for... everything.... Don't cry..."

Yui's face was the last thing he saw before Shin sword stabbed him.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yui komori #komori yui #kino sakamaki #sakamaki kino #kino x yui #yui x kino #kinoyui #kinoyui fanfic #diabolik lovers fanfiction #diabolik lovers fanfic #diabolik lovers fandom

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tgmsunmontue · 2 months

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More than movie magic... 3/?

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries.

ONE TWO

THREE

“Have you seen this?”

“What?” Bradley asks, looking up from where he’s doing his stretches; they’re meat to be practicing parkour today. Natasha gives him an eye roll and he takes the proffered phone from her outreached hand, gives her a look when he sees Jake Seresin's face paused on the screen.

“Do I want to watch this?” Bradley asks her, because he knows his little crush didn’t go unnoticed,

“Yeah you do. It’s only about thirty seconds. You've got a fan...”

“What?”

“Just watch it.”

He presses play and it’s a promo interview for the film which is due to come out in about six weeks. It’s been over a year since he worked on it, worked with Jake, and he may have followed Jake on a couple of social media platforms just to stay up-to-date on his whereabouts. Not that he trusts them, too used to false trails sometimes being laid by Mav. But there are still the pretty pictures, and Jake Seresin is definitely a pretty picture. He turns up the sound and ignores Natasha’s snort of amusement.

“So, Jake, there was a lot of stunt work in this movie. Did you have to prepare for it in any particular way?”

“I had to prepare for the physical presentation aspect of the role and look good with my shirt off, but in terms of stunts, well. No. I did as much as I was allowed, but Bradshaw and his team are very good and very dedicated about ensuring no-one gets hurt on set. I wasn't deemed experienced enough for a lot of the particular stunt work involved.”

“That’s a shame. Maybe you need to do a movie where you can tap into your experience doing rodeo.”

“Yeah, maybe. Can you imagine the insurance required though?”

The studio audience laugh and Bradley decides he needs to find out what kind of rodeo Jake did exactly, because there isn’t any mention of him doing any of that type of stuff now, which makes sense given how busy he is as an actor. He misses the next question the interviewer asks, but his attention is on Jake anyway;

“Bradley, uh, Bradshaw, is very good at what he does. He kept everyone performing the stunts incredibly safe.”

“Look at him getting all flustered about using your first name,” Natasha says, poking him in the shoulder and Bradley thinks she might have a point.

Hmm.

Interesting.

Later that night he finds the interview again and rewatches it. He’s well aware of the image that is crafted for actors in Hollywood, the careful dissemination of information and pictures released in order to create a narrative. He grew up watching it all and already knew he didn’t want to be a part of it, at least not front and center like actors are. Of course he’s still working in the industry and has helped formulate parts of those narratives. Jake was not born to parents who worked in Hollywood.

There was a time before, a time when Jake was maybe captured on film before his image was carefully maintained and presented to the world and he wants to see it, needs to see it. Of course it feels a little skeevy to be searching for old videos but he can’t find it in himself to care. He could say he’s seeking a professional point of view on exactly what Jake’s past experience is but no, he’s simply curious as to what the interviewer was referring to.

There are lots of videos. Whole channels dedicated to Jake Seresin’s days as an up-and-coming rodeo star before he was scouted to audition for his first role at the age of seventeen. There are compilations. Some are set to music and the comments make him remind himself to not read any more comments, even if he does agree with them.

Fucking hell.

FOUR

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

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joka13 · 11 months

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FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 17

WARNINGS: British swearing, crying

You're surprised to see as many people as you do gathered inside Hog's Head. It's a small crowd, but you still had only expected six or seven people to show up. You count about ten, not including George, Fred, yourself, Ron, Hermione, and Harry. The three of you settle in at the back, and Ron joins Harry and Hermione at the front.

Just as Hermione had mentioned, Harry proposes to the group of students the idea of setting up a sort of Defense Against the Dark Arts club. You're only half interested in the thought until Hermione pipes up and says that Harry would be the club's teacher, seeing as how he's had plenty of personal experience dealing with the dark arts.

"You should have said that in the first place," George snorts loudly so everyone can hear. The entire crowd looks toward the back. "Count me in!"

Standing off to the right end of the group, a pretty girl with uncommonly pale skin meets your gaze. She glances down at the green and grey scarf wrapped around your neck, then leans over to the boy next to her and whispers something in his ear. You recognize him as a fourth year Ravenclaw, though you don't know his name. He acknowledges your scarf too, and his eyes narrow. You quickly grow very self conscious as you realize that you are the only Slytherin in the room.

Fred nods. "Same here. I imagine I'd learn more from Harry than I have from all of my past Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers combined." Many of the students seem to consider and approve of the twins' opinion. You see Harry, who's obviously flattered, trying not to smile. Hermione and Ron appear happy as well.

"Well, anyone who's interested in joining may sign their name here," Hermione says, gesturing to a piece of parchment paper that lies next to a bottle of ink and quill on a nearby table. There's a moment of silent hesitation.

"Oh, for Peter's sake!" Fred and George groan in unison. You notice Ron shoot them a warning look at the mention of the name "Peter".

You stay behind and watch as Fred and George make their way through the small crowd of students. You smile to yourself in amusement. Their exceeding height and bright red hair in this dimly lit room reminds you of torches. Fred and George take turns confidently signing the paper, and soon the rest of the group starts to follow suit.

You go to get in line, but are stopped in your tracks when a cold hand tugs on your arm. You turn around to see the Ravenclaw boy.

"Can I help you?" you ask politely, gently smiling. You're pretty sure you know what he's on about, and you don't want any trouble.

The boy doesn't return the gesture, but tightens his grip on your arm instead. "What do you think you're doing here?" he asks demandingly.

Your smile disappears. You know you're not in the wrong, so you reply with honesty and bluntness. "I plan to sign this paper here. Just like you."

"And how do we know we can trust you?" the boy sneers. "How do we know you're not—"

He's interrupted when someone pushes themselves between you two. The boy let's go and you step back, rubbing your sore arm.

"Is there a problem?" It's George. He now faces the boy with his back to you protectively.

"As a matter of fact, there is," the boy replies shakily, struggling to keep his cool. "I don't think we should trust this girl..."

"And why the bloody hell not?" George growls. He stands up to his full height intimidatingly. You notice the commotion is beginning to draw the attention of other people.

"Because, in case you haven't noticed, she's a Slytherin!" the boy exclaims as he takes a step back fearfully, bumping into Fred who is suddenly standing behind him. The boy swivels around in a panic.

"What's wrong with that?" Fred asks, smiling in a way that seems to say, "I dare you to keep talking".

Whether or not he means to, the boy remains speechless. He looks frantically back and forth between the twins.

"I don't see the issue here," says George, stepping back and folding his arms after a long moment of tense silence.

Fred mimics his actions. "Me neither."

They're giving the boy a chance to walk away.

And so he wisely does. The crowd parts for the Ravenclaw boy as he walks across the room, staring at the floor as he does, and exits through the front door.

Then every eye in the room falls on you. In the moment, all you want to do is get out of there. So, without saying anything or thinking twice, you leave also.

After all the fuss at Hog's Head, you decide you've had enough of Hogsmeade for the day. Right as you come to the dirt path that connects Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, you hear one of the twins call your name from a far distance behind you. You stop and turn around slowly, not sure you want to talk to anyone right now, even the twins. They quickly catch up to you.

"Are you alright?" Fred pants, coming to a halt in front of you.

George jogs up next to him. "Did I overreact?" He wears a nervous expression. "I'm real sorry if I did..."

You try to smile, but then burst into tears.

Taken aback, Fred and George stand frozen in place, watching you with wide eyes. You turn away in embarrassment and put your face in your hands as you continue to sob.

You feel absolutely retched. The day had been going so nicely. Just you and the twins. That's all you wanted! And then the stupid meeting got in the way. And that boy! Oh, that Ravenclaw boy...! But you shouldn't be mad at him. He was only saying what everyone else was thinking. A Slytherin. That's what you are. A sneaky, selfish, lying, little Slytherin. Why should anyone trust you? You'd only backstab them the first chance you got... because you're a Slytherin...

You are startled when two pairs of arms gently wrap around you. They hug and hold you, and you let yourself melt into their embrace. You don't even bother trying to hold yourself up. They support your weight so you can just sob. You sob and sob. But it's alright. You are alright. They're both here. Fred. George. Fred and George Weasley. They are here with you, for you, and that's all that matters...

You have no idea how long the three of you stand there, but the sky has darkened considerably by the time you stop crying. You stand up straight and the twins pull away from you slowly.

You sniff, then chuckle gingerly as you wipe away the snot and tears from your face. You must look a mess now, so you're grateful it's dark out.

"Thanks," you sniff again.

"Don't mention it," they say together softly.

"And..." You take in a deep, shuttering breath. "Thanks for being some of the only people who bother with me... even if it's only for my smarts. It sometimes feels like nobody wants me. I'm a traitor to the Slytherins, and everyone else hates me for being a Slytherin!"

There's a pause in which you really hear the sound of the crickets chirping around you for the first time.

"You're more than a... an assistant or a helper to us now, y/n," Fred says, or you at least think it's Fred. It's too dark to make out the details on either of the twins' faces.

"You're our friend," the other twin (possibly George) says. "You're not a bother."

An appreciative warmth fills you. You smile. "I'm glad." You take a moment to gaze up at the beautiful, crescent moon sitting amongst an endless number of twinkling stars in the night sky. You sigh comfortably, then take out your wand to light the path back to Hogwarts. You start walking and the twins silently move to walk with you, (now you can see) George on your left and Fred on your right.

"By the way," Fred says after a quiet moment. "I, for one, like that you're in Slytherin."

The comment surprises you, and you laugh. "And why is that?"

"I do, too," says George. "It's sort of..." His voice trails off.

"Sexy," Fred finishes for him, nodding his eyebrows at you. You burst out laughing.

"I wasn't sure I should say it out loud," George laughs.

"Is that all?" you ask, still giggling.

"Yep. That's it. That's the only reason," Fred snickers.

"The qualities you have that got you into Slytherin are admirable... Or they are to us at least," chuckles George.

You snort. "Thanks... I guess?"

"Well, you know us!" Fred defends. "We can only dream of ever being half as skilled as you are in the ways of mischief!"

"What?" You laugh. "That's quite a compliment coming from you!"

"Don't get us wrong, we are pretty good at it," George chuckles. "And we do it more often, but it took longer for us to learn. It comes to you naturally."

You shrug your shoulders. "If you say so."

"It's true! I still can't believe how you've managed to make it all the way from the Slytherin common room to Gryffindor tower almost every night since we've met without getting caught!" George exclaims.

"A truly impressive feat," Fred agrees.

"I will admit I'm rather proud of that," you chuckle.

The three of you finally reach the castle. You enter the building and a wave of relief washes over you. It feels good to be back. It's been a long and emotional day. You're tired, and your feet hurt after walking around Hogsmeade for hours.

The twins start to head for the Great Hall, but you don't follow. They stop and turn around when they realize you're not with them.

"Aren't you hungry?" George asks.

"I am, but I'm more tired," you reply. "I think I'll head to bed."

"Oh. Then let us walk with you," says Fred. He and George start toward you.

"No, no! That's alright, you don't need to do that. You two can go eat."

"But we insist," the twins say in unison. They stand on either side of you and hold out their arms in a gentlemanly manner. You laugh and take their arms, knowing there's no use arguing with them.

The halls are practically empty now. Your footsteps on the tile floor echo, and you get a rush of nostalgia.

You arrive at the door to the Slytherin common room. You let go of the twins' arms and turn around to face them.

"Thank you both again... for everything," you say.

George starts to speak. "No prob—" You cut him off with a kiss on the cheek, having to stand on the tips of your toes to reach him. You do the same to Fred, who slightly bends his knees for you in advance.

"Goodnight," you say before quickly making your way into the common room, struggling to keep yourself from grinning giddily.

"Goodnight, y/n," you hear Fred and George say together. Just before the door shuts, you think you see them share a fist bump.

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anonymoushouseplantfan · 1 year

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Episode 3

Meghan calls the engagement interview “an orchestrated reality show” during her own orchestrated reality show. Hilarious. These two deserve the Nobel Prize for Lack of Self-Awareness.

Cringe Diana montage. Royals acting “absolutely thrilled” about the engagement. Lol, Catherine’s face is epic.

Meghan complains they weren’t allowed to tell “their story” during the engagement interview. I get the feeling she really wanted to tell the world about the Call of Duty costumes and penguin onesies. Well, the world now knows, Meghan. We just wish we didn’t.

BTW, the engagement interview looks a lot less orchestrated than what they are doing now. The cozy space, the comfy sofa, and the sympathetic interviewer nodding along and validating all their bizarro statements (“I didn’t know much about him”) all make a huge difference.

Weird historical montage. Honestly baffled as to why they are spending time on this and not on Skippy’s wedding or the reaction to the Vanity Fair article. Yes, it’s the race card but you can play that card with the VF interview backlash and it’s a lot more relevant and relatable. The “objective” (not really) historical viewpoints break the rhythm and take the viewer out of the story. I have no idea why they are using them. Maybe they are trying to sell Netflix a historical documentary to follow up this one?

Talking about clothing. Pic of dress from June 2018 but they aren’t even married yet at that point. Dog still had its legs in casts then? Poor puppy.

Different Restoration Hardware showroom in 2021. New York City. Makeup artist dude and Archewell person who just quit. Harry has no idea what a royal correspondent is, which is honestly surprising. I knew he was dumb but I didn’t realize he was this dumb. The only journalist who just called himself a royal expert with no substance was Omid Scobie and that’s the guy they use.

Wait, was this the NY visit when they filmed the fake pap scene? Why didn’t the makeup artist pretend to be a pap? That would have made it more believable. C’mon makeup person. There’s no I in teamwork.

Complaining about the press…with Kate and Camilla’s headlines. Use your own headlines, cowards! Harry’s “their trauma is our narrative” quote is very amusing as he’s using the same strategy to sell his documentary. It reminds me of the old “when you fight the monsters you become a monster” concept. He claims to the the tabloids for exploiting his family, but he has effectively become a little exploitative tabloid, selling his family’s trauma to keep his wife in upscale yoga wear. A childhood friend says Meghan was never obsessed with Princess Diana. Girl, the past two episodes of this documentary strongly disagree with you.

Meghan complains about her mom’s family being quiet and classy and her dad’s family “acting differently.” She doesn’t seem to realize that she is a true Markle in this regard and she’s doing to the royals what her family did to her. The royals are being quiet and classy, and she’s “acting differently.”

Samantha’s daughter shows up. She doesn’t remember Samantha but she has a close relationship with her niece? They are a weird family. I do love the fact that Eugenie and Ashleigh are now token family members.

Princess Michael’s brooch. Racist art that is apparently not in any of the palaces. Unconscious bias. Harry clearly has no idea what the term means. Nazi uniform.

Sandringham is “like the big family I always wanted… with movement and energy and fun” which is not how anyone has ever described Sandringham. The Carolyn Bessette Kennedy cosplay was because she wanted to blend in. Oooookay. Kate’s Christmas coat was so epic.

Super awkward military visit they did in November 2021. They sound like entertainers and Harry’s clown act does not fit the US military culture. They get awards “for everything they do” which makes no sense. Royal military promo montage. again, with no acknowledgement that his soldier persona was crafted by the same tabloids he now rails against. The Daily Mail were the ones who created the “hero Harry” image just as they created his “African philanthropist” image when he was a teen.

Royal Foundation event. Isn’t blue a color? Pretty sure she’s wearing blue, and so is Kate. Lol, first time her divorce is mentioned, I think. Meghan jumps on the #MeToo bandwagon, just like she jumps on every press friendly movement. A journalist notes that Kate didn’t wear black to the Baftas and Camilla never mentioned #MeToo. Interesting that now, five years later, Kate has her big mom-oriented First Years project, Camilla’s charity work with women has grown and grown, and #MeToo has completely fizzled. Who has done more for women in past five years? The woman who jumped on the media bandwagon or the two stalwarts who focused on working with and building organizations?

I’d forgotten how bad she looked in the first engagements. Unkept hair, Ill-fitting clothes…but the tabloids still supported her at that point. Sandringham…poo emoji hat… She’s complaining that Julie Andrews didn’t tell her her hat looked like the poo emoji? Do you really need a protocol officer for that?

“Everything is just…smaller.” She clearly didn’t take her job seriously at all.

Fugly red dress fitting. Four Carolina Herrera employees helping her and she still looked awful. That takes real talent. Harry ask whether she has ever had four people help her into a dress.

She never wore color? I guess the purple and red monstrosity was just a bad dream. And didn’t she just show pics of the Royal Foundation forum where she and Kate both wore blue? That was five minutes ago, Meg! We haven’t forgotten it.

Of course you can wear the same color as the Queen. Lol, she just made up a protocol, right after complaining that the tabloids made up royal protocols. Seriously, who edited this documentary? She’s also wearing muted tones right now.

“I didn’t want to embarrass the family.” I’m confused. This was Sandringham before the wedding and she had just worn a $75k dress in her engagement pictures, but she claims she didn’t want her clothing to “embarrass the family”? She “didn’t want to stand out,” so she sent out engagement pics in a see-through, $75k dress with feathers?????!!!!! I need to rewatch this because I literally can’t believe this. “There is no version of me joining this family and not trying to do everything I could to fit in.” Girl, you dressed up as a burlesque performer and sent the pics to everyone. What are you talking about?

Samantha’s tweets are shown right after the “I don’t want to embarrass the family” comment. Yes, that.

BTW, no mention of a stay at Amner Hall or the “Fab Four” show of support.

She was “turtling”? She was sending out invites to Oprah and the Clooneys. That’s not exactly turtling. Lol, no mention of her “very meaningful” religious conversion she supposedly had during this time. Didn’t Charles supposedly give her a Birk’s bracelet as a present? No mention of that either.

The palace didn’t let invite her niece? Please, they were desperate to have any family at all show up. The niece who was practically a sister attending the wedding would have been a godsend…of course she would have had to be Maid of Honor and Jess couldn’t have that. This girl is pretty and Meg wasn’t going to risk a Pippa Middleton situation. Simple as that.

Serena Williams shows up sounding like a zombie.

Commonwealth Day. Weird “Commonwealth is evil” montage. Weren’t these two heads of the Queen’s Commonwealth Trust, and Youth Ambassadors? Didn’t Meghan add all the flowers of the Commonwealth to her veil? The Commonwealth wasn’t so evil then, was it? They don’t dare criticize the Queen directly so they bring in academics. Cowards. LOL, I googled one of the academics criticizing the “imperial” aspects of the nation and he literally has an Order of the British Empire. You can’t make this stuff up.

Stephen Lawrence murder memorial underscores that they abandoned this platform to sell tawdry gossip to Netflix.

Dad drama. Lol, she used her dad’s texts. Weird to bitch about dad selling pics to improve his public image when they are doing the same in this doc. “It’s amazing what people will do when offered a huge amount of money.” It sure is, Harry.

Dad picture story comes out. Lol, her agent admits he knew it was a set up when the book pic came out. They really should have done a better job briefing these people. They are giving her away right and left. The book pic came out April 4 and Harry and Meghan were pretending the pics weren’t set up and complaining to IPSO through mid-May. I gotta say, Meghan bitching about her father talking to TMZ is hilarious given that she did a two hour Oprah interview and she’s now doing an entire documentary.

This whole scene explaining why they didn’t confront Thomas feels very fake. I bet they have repeated this song and dance many times in front of the Royal Family. Tom Bower confirmed that they were summoned to Castle Mey to discuss the dad drama so my guess about that was right.

“You’re not picking up my calls and are instead talking to TMZ.” I’m dying. They did the same thing with Oprah. BTW, I’m pretty sure they had to pay TMZ for this footage and TMZ was the outfit that first published Harry’s naked Vegas pics, which have not been mentioned in the documentary yet. If you’d told me ten years ago that someday Harry would be paying royalties to TMZ I wouldn’t have believed you. Yet, here we are.

Very weird episode. They could have focused on their charity work, connecting it to the events they did before the wedding—minority neighborhoods, women’s issues, Stephen Lawrence, Commonwealth meetings etc… and they instead chose to use those events to cast the royal family as racist and imperial. And the supposedly imperial aspects of the family—the Commonwealth, Africa, the Caribbean—were the ones they were going to work in. It’s a very odd position for the heads (or ex-heads) of the Queen’s Commonwealth Trust to take.

The new spin on the dad story is also very strange. The fact that they never visited him and broke all contact with him after the pics made a tiny bit of sense when he was portrayed as a greedy asshole, but the new spin is that he was manipulated by the evil tabloids who took his phone, didn’t let him call his family and then texted his daughter pretending to be him. That doesn’t make him a villain. It makes him a victim. She has spent three hours demonizing the tabloids and now she says they basically kidnapped her sick, elderly father….and she just shrugs it off? It’s bizarre.

No comment from husband other than to say the niece was cute and the red dress was ugly. Group chat agrees the dress was ugly and she's doing the same thing her dad was doing. Much typing about whether we are supposed to think the poo emoji article was racist and whether navy blue is a different color than just plain blue.

On to the next episode.

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bethanydelleman · 7 months

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Northanger Abbey Readthrough, Ch 7

John Thorpe has arrived... yay. His introduction is anything but auspicious:

they were prevented crossing by the approach of a gig, driven along on bad pavement by a most knowing-looking coachman with all the vehemence that could most fitly endanger the lives of himself, his companion, and his horse.

We have another clue that James and Isabella have some sort of attachment:

his devoirs were speedily paid, with a mixture of joy and embarrassment which might have informed Catherine, had she been more expert in the development of other people’s feelings, and less simply engrossed by her own, that her brother thought her friend quite as pretty as she could do herself.

I love how Catherine will later gather all these clues that General Tilney is a wife-murderer/imprisoner but she misses every clue of basically everything else.

John Thorpe isn't even hot or well dressed guys:

He was a stout young man of middling height, who, with a plain face and ungraceful form, seemed fearful of being too handsome unless he wore the dress of a groom, and too much like a gentleman unless he were easy where he ought to be civil, and impudent where he might be allowed to be easy.

At least Willoughby and Wickham have the decency to be eye candy! I have NOTHING good to say about Mr. Thorpe. He reminds me of Donald Trump to be honest (I try to stay non-political here, but the constant lying and aggrandizement and saying contradictory statements one after another... it's so Trump). He also swears a lot, which Austen delicately writes as d---. The way that James jumps in every so often with the real truth, but John just glides right past his corrections, ug. (but funny).

Then John Thorpe becomes Sir Walter Elliot, though worse because at least Sir Walter is hot:

Her companion’s discourse now sunk from its hitherto animated pitch to nothing more than a short decisive sentence of praise or condemnation on the face of every woman they met; and Catherine, after listening and agreeing as long as she could, with all the civility and deference of the youthful female mind, fearful of hazarding an opinion of its own in opposition to that of a self-assured man, especially where the beauty of her own sex is concerned

Sir Walter also judges both sexes, because of course he does my beloved, pansexual dandy:

The worst of Bath was the number of its plain women. He did not mean to say that there were no pretty women, but the number of the plain was out of all proportion. He had frequently observed, as he walked, that one handsome face would be followed by thirty, or five-and-thirty frights; and once, as he had stood in a shop on Bond Street, he had counted eighty-seven women go by, one after another, without there being a tolerable face among them. It had been a frosty morning, to be sure, a sharp frost, which hardly one woman in a thousand could stand the test of. But still, there certainly were a dreadful multitude of ugly women in Bath; and as for the men! they were infinitely worse. Such scarecrows as the streets were full of! It was evident how little the women were used to the sight of anything tolerable, by the effect which a man of decent appearance produced.

It's always interesting to me to compare Northanger Abbey and Persuasion because the heroines and the feelings towards Bath could not be more different! Anne Elliot hates Bath, Catherine LOVES it. Anne is the wisest, most grounded heroine and Catherine is the most naive. But here we have parallel scenes where a man critiques the looks of other people and the heroine is not happy about it.

Now we get into John Thorpe getting down on novels.

“Not I, faith! No, if I read any, it shall be Mrs. Radcliffe’s; her novels are amusing enough; they are worth reading; some fun and nature in them.” “Udolpho was written by Mrs. Radcliffe,” said Catherine, with some hesitation, from the fear of mortifying him. “No, sure; was it? Aye, I remember, so it was; I was thinking of that other stupid book, written by that woman they make such a fuss about, she who married the French emigrant.”

John Thorpe may be the only outright racist (xenophobic?) and anti-sementic character we see in Austen. So good for him, I guess? But also clearly an idiot. Also, The Monk, which John says he did enjoy, was a very controversial novel at the time. It features rape, murder, demons in women's bodies, etc. The titular monk kidnaps a virtuous maiden, which is a hint at what is to come...

Then we have John's address to his mother, "“Where did you get that quiz of a hat? It makes you look like an old witch." which I assume is derogatory (affectionate). This seems to be his way with family, "On his two younger sisters he then bestowed an equal portion of his fraternal tenderness, for he asked each of them how they did, and observed that they both looked very ugly."

Now Catherine, it should be noted, does not like John pretty much immediately, but she's flattered and convinced by both Isabella and James into thinking somewhat better of him. She is also engaged to dance with him, which considering her previous disappointments, is a logical feeling.

Ug, men in Austen knowing nothing about women again, "He is as good-natured a fellow as ever lived; a little of a rattle; but that will recommend him to your sex, I believe" Will it? Does it? I have a hard time imagining any Austen woman liking Thorpe, except maybe Lydia Bennet or Anne Steele? The man is insufferable! Also, Lydia goes for looks so maybe not even her. Come on, James! Have more faith in women!

And then Catherine goes home and gets right back into reading Uldolpho, which is exactly what I would have done too. Elizabeth Bennet is not your book-obsessed heroine people, it's my girl Catherine!

#northanger abbey #northanger abbey readthrough #john thorpe #James Morland #Isabella thorpe #catherine morland

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crimsonlyinglilly · 1 month

Text

Day 5 Reckless

Again late for day 5 whumpril,

Back to Stolen Three, follows after this "you lied to me" set around The Originals 2x20

Warnings for past self harm.

---

Finn is starting to realise Elijah is in fact an easy younger sibling to deal with, even if he has an amazing ability to test Finn patience with just a sentence and the fact finn knows he does it for his own amusement but as he watched the Mikaelsons snap and snarl at each other with a growing headache, he had been lucky to just have Elijah.

Freya paced behind the couch he had claimed after he had received the invitation from Kol.

He wonders if she’s disappointed in the siblings she had wanted to meet since Dahlia had told them what Mother had done to her new children before their first sleep. Klaus had been openly cold and suspicious of her since she approached them first, Finn is aware the only reason he was accepted easier is because he arrived alongside the resurrected Kol.

It had taken most of the power he had gather during th century sleep, neither him or Elijah were firstborn and so didn’t have the sheer amount of power Dahlia and Freya did but besides Kol being his younger brother who had been used and killed again by their mother, he had both been the one you sired Sage and so allowed Finn to meet the love of his life he was also the one to bring her back once their mother brought him back in a witches body.

Finn doesn’t want to think how he would have felt to wake up and discover her gone, his one escape from Dahlia taken from him while he was asleep.

Instead he had met her in their normal place and had been filled in on the full story of what was happening with his family.

So with only a little convincing from Sage, he had brought the stranger, another younger brother, back to life.

It wasn’t the first time he had met the man that had given Sage her immortality and in a way he had alway known they were brothers, they had figured out the first vampires were their siblings even without the last name.

But back then he had been focused on making the most of his last days with Sage and had ignored the familiarity that Kol reminded him of, weeks later he had seen Elijah for the first time in nearly a year and been smacked in the face with it.

At least he found someone in their family he could compare Elijah’s looks to beside their aunt he had thought weakly.

Still using his blood and the other’s soul to bring him back cemented the fact and crushed any small denial that any of this was his problem.

The other was angered at being a vampire again and Finn had to admit feeling a little bad for him, even after a lifetime linked to Dahlia he would miss his magic, but he had accepted they needed more to defend against Dahlia.

Finn would rather die than watch Dahlia do to another, his innocent niece what she had done to Elijah. They were too close for him to pretend it wouldn’t end the same way.

Mother would prefer to kill her grandchild than fight the one who stole her first three children, she used and threw away one child like a tool, would torture her other children to get what she wanted, in a way she was worst than Dahlia.

The disgust that filled him when he learned mother had tried to kill her other children, for all the monsters she made he had expected better of her, perhaps it was the last of his childhood innocence hidden and protected since he took the witch's hand and followed her from the hut.

He hated how it also proved every argument with Freya over her, pointless, his sister was right over the heartless monster their mother was.

It made finally seeing her again bitter, a vampire in another’s stolen body. He was thankfully Elijah had never had the attachment to be disappointed.

He offered Freya a smile as she paced back behind him, she sent him a weak smile back and stopped pacing to join him sitting, they both ignored the sound of something smashing and turned back to the room their siblings and separated themselves to, since Klaus was refusing to admit killing the werewolf was a mistake.

Finn didn’t need to ask where Klaus got the idea that fear was a good way to keep control; he had seen the start of what their father was becoming after Freya’s loss apparently that had gotten worse, and it was clear Klaus got his self righteousness from their mother.

They watched as Henrik said something they didn’t hear but managed to make Klaus flinch and for a moment look guilty.

Finn stiffened at the image if Kol had been bad enough of a copy of Elijah, they both shared a dramatic and devious nature from what little he had seen. Meeting Henrik was worse, as it seemed his younger brother and their youngest brother had both developed the ability to wield guilt like a weapon.

Finn’s arm twinged suddenly and he jumped looking down at his arm before he felt it happen again and he realised it was his scars.

He and Freya had long ago worked out Elijah’s sensitivity to their magic in the link was due to being linked before he had grown old enough to have a real sense of the world. The closest Finn got to what Elijah had explained was after his brother had attempted to heal his self inflicted wounds before Dahlia found them. The scars would itch whenever Elijah was close or used a large amount of magic, the latter rarely happened.

So he shouldn’t have been that surprised when the four vampire's necks snapped and they all dropped to the floor like puppets with their sting cut, shortly followed by Elijah walking into the place at a calm pace.

His brother alway had his own way to doing things, a quiet threat but one nonetheless, and while Finn had been missing him, concerned over where he was since he was headed here to look for Freya as soon as they woke up Finn would rather Elijah had stayed as far away until after Dahlia was dealt with or she dealt with them.

Elijah was going to throw himself in the middle to try and buy mercy from their aunt for them and there was no way she would allow that to stand after they openly tried to break her and mother’s deal.

He was only going to get himself hurt.

Dahlia had taken them last time someone had tried that and seemingly only learned the younger the child she took the easier it was to shape them into obedient tools.

He smothered guilt over his own thoughts; he knew Elijah wasn’t as well behaved as he pretended but he was almost as sure that Elijah's attempts to break the deal or kill Dahlia was mostly to free him and Freya.

The time he had found Elijah setting up an entire collection of old vampires and their coven to go against Dahlia while offering himself as a prize came to mind.

“Elijah.” Freya reacted first, throwing herself from the couch to hug Elijah, Finn followed,

“Sister, Brother.” he called back, slightly muffled by how tight they were hugging him, Finn narrowed his eyes as he noticed how tightly Elijah was holding them back.

“You know?” he asked, speaking more into his brother’s hair than to him, hade Elijah learned about Hope, was it from their link to Dahlai or had-

“You’ve seen her.” Freya finished his though aloud as they finally let go of each other, Elijah looked uncomfortable as stepped back before telling them.

“Not in person, she used Kenning on the guy i was-”

They both cut him off with a hiss, Finn smothered his rage, Dahlia had killed Freya’s Mathias, and this wasn’t the first time she had used Kenning to take over whatever man Elijah had taken to bed as a distraction, all the more reason Finn had begged Sage to stay away until after they had dealt with her.

“Yeah it wasn’t great.” Elijah finished as he looked away, taking in the collection of the temporary dead siblings.

“Why the entrance?” Freyas asked, suddenly looking concerned, no doubt hoping a full introduction could help calm some of the tension, Klaus had been asking for more details on Elijah since he had managed to get Finn to explain his scars. Kol had mentioned meeting him once but hadn’t been able to tell Finn anymore, than one of the covens of New Orleans a century ago had asked Kol for help removing a foreign witch they believed was seducing their young witches into the darker arts.

Finn couldn’t argue against it as both he and Freya had found Elijah doing similar things when he wasn’t taking part in fighting pits and underground fighting rings.

“The less people know I'm here the better.” was the excuse, which Finn had to agree it was bad enough they were working with their siblings which Dahlia knew but at least one visit to speak to just them could be blamed on Elijah trying to talk them down, to get them back.

To keep the peace as he had always done, Dahlia wouldn’t think to much of it, as much as he hated it he was thankful if it gave him a last chance to see his brother.

“Elijah-” he started,

“You're not going to reconsider.” Finn tried not to hear the pleading his Elijah’s voice, but found himself unable to respond.

“We won’t.” Freya told him reaching out with a hand to grab his.

“She’s going to kill you both.” Elijah suddenly snarled, making them flinch at the sudden change, before Elijah took a breath and swallowed the rage and panic he had let out for a minute.

Finn shared a look with Freya, they both hated how much Elijah refused to let himself feel. It was all the more reason that had to do this, to save Hope from being raised to be the same, to give Elijah a future to learn where he can be open with himself.

“We have to do this.” Finn echoed Freya, setting a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I know” Elijah sighed seemingly defeated, Finn disliked the look on his brother and the fact they had put it there but he was still hit with a sinking thought.

“Don’t do anything reckless.” he told him desperately hoping this wasn’t going to be their last words but needing his little brother to remember them if they were if the worst happened and he was left alone with Dahlia.

Elijah smiled at him widely but the the amusement never reached his eyes.

“Like openly working against Dahlia?” he asked, before turning and walking away, “Never.” he called back.

They both ignored the shake in his voice, by the time their siblings revived, Elijah was gone and he and Freya sat on the couch holding each other at the thought of that being the last time they saw their little brother.

This had to work, they weren’t going to leave him behind with her.

—--

Elijah grasped the pendent, feeling the flickering soul within it, and swallowed around the lump in his throat.

Neither of them had noticed him switch the pendants, part of the reason he had made sure the vampires were out of commission.

“Come along mother, time to fix your mistake.” he told the soul, soon he’d bring her back, get to see the parent that had caused their pain and finally free his siblings from the chains of Dahlia and burden of himself.

It may be reckless but he had been planning it for years, centuries of other witches working in his memory and he had never been open with his work against their aunt.

This had to work, he was going to free them of their pain, and take her with him.

#whumpril2024 #whumprilday5 #Reckless #fanfiction #finn mikaelson #Freya mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #the originals #fic #tvd fanfiction #au stolen three #the vampire diaries #the originals au

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askamnesiamoonjumper · 4 months

Note

🫂

(🫂: Comforting hugs)

WOE MJ COMING OUT BE UPON YE (though should be noted this isn’t 100% how it happens in the final fic in my head, example being I tweaked some dialogue to not have references to spoilers and made it just be Mj and Snatcher, where as in my head I think Delilah would also be there :3 but yeah I have no clue how I actually got myself to write this I was fully expecting to fail horribly at this bc of my motivation sucking ass but welp here we are ig?) (also note this is taking place during the timeskip but I think everyone here already knows that about femmj) anyway, enjoy!!

(Tw for accidental misgendering)

——————————————

“…So, are you going to tell me what’s eating you?”

“Mm-m”

“Moonboy you know I can’t hear you with your face in the pillow like that.”

Moonjumper flinched at the nickname, he doesn’t know. She had to remind herself.

The two sat in the corpses room, with said corpse having their form pressed into the pillows of their bed, as their brother sat at the end to question their odd behavior lately.

Moonjumper tilted their head away from the pillow to unmuffle their words. “I said no— it… it’s fine, Snatcher, really.”

“Yeah, and my name is the Twilight Goat, I’m not falling for that Moon, now fess up.” He gave a deadpan look, a hint of annoyance inching its way into his tone.

“Snatcher really, it’s—”

“I know it’s not fine. Now. Talk.”

“No, it’s—”

“No, you’ve had yourself locked up in here throwing yourself a little pity party all week! So what’s going on? Because I’m not leaving until you say why!” The ghost snapped.

The two were left in silence, Moonjumper bit their lip uncomfortably and buried their face back into the pillow, clutching it tighter between her claws. Why couldn’t she just tell him? It would solve both of their problems wouldn't it?

“I…” Moonjumper tried but the words died on her lips.

Snatcher simply gave them a sympathetic but simultaneously tired look, one that said he knew far too well what they were feeling right now, oh the joys of being one in the same— you know every little trick and act the other knows. All the same horrible coping and communication skills, like a snake eating its own tail.

The ghost sighed, “Look— I didn’t mean to get mad. I’m just… worried. You know how I am.” He looked off to the side, shoulders slumping.

Moonjumper nodded, she knew, she knew he was worried— who wouldn’t be after you realize the pattern over the years that your sibling shuts down through self isolation. A painful habit from the Horizon. Who wouldn’t realize the spirit hadn’t been seen all week and come to the conclusion they’re rotting away in their room, wallowing in their own misery over something that couldn’t even be. Who wouldn’t come check on them, who wouldn’t worry.

“I know…” Moonjumper whispered, turning over to better face him, “I just…” she blinked a few times, tears rung the corners of her eyes, “I… just don’t think you’d get it…” they looked off to the side. I know you’d understand, I know you won’t care, but I care, I care so much, and it's killing me, it’s killing me how much I care.

Snatcher only stared at them, “Try me.” He prompted.

The spirit looked up at him upon hearing the words, it’s not you, it’s me, it’s not you, it’s not your fault, it’s not that you won’t get it, it's not that you won’t understand, it’s that I can’t say it, my mouth goes dry just thinking about it, so how in the world could I possibly say it?

Moonjumper slowly sat upright, holding the thick pillow in their lap, suffocating the poor fabric into their chest, “…I…” try again, “I’m—…“ again, “it’s just that— …that I-“ one more time, “I think— no- I am—! I mean— I…”

“I’ll be here all day, Moonboy.” Snatcher gave an amused look at their failed attempts at the words, though it wasn’t hostile, or the typical harsher teasings he gave, it had a softness he only showed now to them, after all the years that had passed, the kind of softness his past self would gag at seeing from himself.

There it was, the nickname, …it’s now or never.

“That!” Moonjumper scrunched their eyes shut, “that— that's the issue.” They mumbled.

Snatcher blinked in pure confusion, “…What?”

“Th- the name…? Um… that.” She sat up a bit straighter, not looking at anything in particular. “Can you… not call me that…?”

Snatcher was silent, before laughing a bit under his breath, “Wh- the nickname!? Was that what this was all about!?”

“N- no, Snatcher it’s…” their voice trailed quieter.

“Haha— You- you had yourself locked up in here for that!?” He laughed, continuing on.

“There’s more to it th—!”

“What? Did you think I would steal your soul over it or something!? Ahahaha—!”

“Snatcher I'm not a boy!” The words came out as one sound, like ripping away a bandaid, get the pain over with.

Snatcher froze, his laughter instantly disappeared, he looked at the other, eyes wide before his brows furrowed, bright gold lights looking into amaryllis red irises that shook and shivered with tears that lined the corners of their eyes.

“You— …what…?” His voice was a complete 180, hushed and silent like the wind, rather than booming and loud like a thundering hurricane.

Moonjumper bit her lip, desperately blinking the tears away from her eyes, “I— I…” she hicced, voice trembling against her will. She simply let her head fall down, burying her face into the pillow in her grasp, harshly digging her fingers into the cloth coated stuffing.

Snatcher shifted on the bed, scooting closer to the spirit, “Woah, woah, hey, Moon— it’s ok, I didn’t—“ he didn’t finish his sentence, as he spoke while he moved, bringing his claw to his siblings— (possibly sisters? He wasn’t going to ask just yet,)— shoulder, to which they wordlessly understood where the gesture was leading, shoving the pillow to the floor and diving into his arms. Snatcher was still in shock from the quick hug for a second, before he eased into the embrace, wrapping his arms around the others shoulders as they sobbed silently.

Moonjumper let the tears slip down their face, allowing themself to relax in his hold, the heat of his fire magic helping tremendously, as they let their form slowly limp against his warm chest, keeping their hold around his back tight though, as their head rested comfortably in the crook of his spectral neck.

Her sobs slowly died down, but the two remained like that together, wordlessly in each other's embrace

“So…” Snatcher began, “Do I have a sister, or…?”

Moonjumper laughed quietly, “Maybe~” she sang. “…But, um, I don’t mind you still calling me your sibling, that part is staying the same.” She added in a more serious tone.

“Got it.” He nodded, “Just no more ‘he’, then? ‘Brother’, ‘Moonboy’, none of that?” He asked to double check.

Moonjumper shook her head, “I don’t think so, no.” She mumbled.

“Alright, good to know.” He mused.

The two were silent yet again, simply resting into the other's arms. Moonjumpers' breathing slowed, dying out into dead emptiness as they stopped forcing it to show itself.

“So… why were you so upset? Isn’t this a good thing?” Snatcher asked.

Moonjumper looked at nothing for a moment, biting their tongue in their mouth to think of the words.

“It’s just…” she shifted, finally breaking the hug to demonstrate— “Well, Snatcher look at me! I’m dead!” They held out their arms, gesturing to their form.

The ghost blinked, “Well, Yeah, so am I. What’s the issue here? That isn’t exactly able to stop me from calling you different things, is it?” He laughed slightly.

Moonjumper huffed, “it’s not just that— it’s- my form is what’s wrong— it’s my body, not just the words.” They explained, hands motioning as she spoke, “And… and anything that I think of I know wouldn’t do anything— medicine would just absorb into my magic, and- and I couldn’t go to any kind of doctors because— well, one, they probably wouldn’t even take spirits for patients, and two, even if they did, they wouldn’t know how my biology works!? Hell, I hardly do!” She continued to motion her hands, waving them out exaggeratedly at the last part before they fell down into being crossed against her chest, as the corpse huffed, looking off to the side. Her eyes looked at nothing intently, the ghost across from her watched as tears began to build in her eyes once more.

Moonjumper turned to him, “Snatcher, don’t you get it?” She said in a desperate, defeated tone, “I can’t have it.”

Snatcher looked at the corpse in sympathy, watching as they looked down, nails clutching tighter into their crossed arms.

“And how do you know that?” He finally spoke.

Moonjumper sniffled, before looking up to him with wide eyes. “P… pardon?” She said in a shaky voice.

“How do you know you can’t.” He repeated, deadpan.

“I— …I just told you?” They said in confusion.

“And what if you’re just jumping to conclusions.” He challenged.

“I…” the spirit didn’t have any words. …Huh. They hadn’t… considered that…

…They supposed that was what happened when you made an echo chamber of your own negative thoughts for days straight…

“Well?” Snatcher broke her from out of her head.

Moonjumper only blinked a few times, trying to sort through their thoughts, before she laughed weakly. “I- I guess you have a point…!” She smiled tiredly, a bittersweet sadness rung in her face, as she still managed a toothy grin despite that.

Snatcher seemed satisfied with that, bringing himself closer once more and hugging the other again. “Even if all that nonsense does turn out to be true, I’ll make sure we find a way, promise.” He leaned his head back away from the hug, pressing his forehead against hers.

Moonjumper laughed airily under her breath, “O- okay.” She shakily breathed out with a smile, easing her head against his.

“That’s more like it.” Snatcher said in encouragement. “…Glad we talked, Moongirl.” He added.

Moonjumper paused, her brain freezing up trying to comprehend the words, the nickname hitting her like a train. Once it sunk in, a warm fuzziness she didn’t know existed filled her form, making her smile stretch more as she dizzily pressed her forehead further into Snatchers, letting her eyes slip shut in her newfound haze of bliss. “Yeah…” She echoed the sentiment, “…Glad we talked.”

#a!au #ahit au #femmj #uhh idk what else to tag bc this is so aau specific idk if I’ll main tag it oof😭#moonjumper #ahit a!au #Ok I think that’s fine ??#Not putting this on ao3 unless I get more Drabble requests sent like I’d rather post it with more than one yk?

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