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#i could have put even more in here can you believe
a-b-riddle · 24 hours
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Hear me out, but obsessed Simon Riley x reader.
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When you’re accused of being a traitor, Simon doesn’t hesitate in getting to work.
Even though you handed over all of your passwords, given them access to anything and everything they him immediately, it did nothing to help. You were going to be crucified.
Price and Laswell had already made the call. A call Simon couldn’t stand by and let happen.
It’s not that Simon believed you when you tried to prove you weren’t the leak.
He simply didn’t care if you were.
He didn't care if you had betrayed them. He didn't care if your innocent nature had truly been an act all along.
It was instinct to get you out of there. Not even for your own safety, but to insure Simon that no one could take you from him. If you remained a free agent, it was only a matter of time before they brought you in. After that, it was out of his hands. You were theres to hurt, to kill and he could do nothing to stop it. So what better way to insure that they can't take you other than taking you for himself?
He simply can’t have someone hurting his bird. So he sets the plan in motion.
Price intends on waiting for the order before executing the extraction plan. They wanted answers. How much did you tell Makarov? What did he know?
Simon was a step ahead. It was easy enough hiding in your garage, waiting for you to come home. The darkness of the night had aided him. You were blindly walking to the door connecting to your kitchen before you felt it. The gloved hand around your mouth and the sharp pinch in your neck.
When you wake up chained to a bed in a dark room, you knew you were as good as dead. They had taken you. This was it and you couldn't plead your case anymore than you already had. All your efforts in trying to prove your innocence were futile.
When Simon stepped in, still in his tactical gear your heart sank. He still had on his mask. Fully equipped. The knives on his side gleaming menacingly as the one light in your cell shined down on him. You swore that you would never betray him, the 141 or Laswell.
“Simon,” you begged already scurrying farther back toward the headboard, trying to create more distance. “I didn’t do it. I swear.” He didn’t stop his slow steps. Even as you began to cry. Even as you curled your body into a tight ball.
You sobbed as you pleaded for mercy, begging for your life. Your shaking violently as you felt him get on the bed. The frame creaking under his weight. You closed your eyes, turning your head away as you readied your self for the final blow to come. Wordlessly began unlocking the metal cuffs.
"Shhh," he soothed. "None of that now." He took your wrists in his hand before softly running his thumbs where the metal cuffs had left an imprint. “Couldn’t have you running off.” He explained, his tone... gentle. Speaking to you as if you were child. "That sedative can give you a pretty rough wake up call. Didn't need you hurtin' yourself. Needed to have a chat first.” He went on to explain you were in his home. Where he wouldn’t disclose. Only that you were safe.
You were safe.
You weren't going to be tortured.
You weren't going to be killed for something you didn't do. Your eyes filled with tears as you realized he was on your side. “You believe me.” You said, the tears resuming for a completely didn't reason. Relief flooded you and you had to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him.
“No,” his correction made your heart drop into your stomach.
"But..." You press your back hard against the wooden headboard. There's no where else to go. Nowhere else to run. "You said I was safe." He sighed. Tears flowed down your cheeks as he put his hand gently where your neck and jaw me.
"You are safe." But, if he didn’t believe you... why were you here? “I don’t care if you did it. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He reassured, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. Then he spoke so softly, you could have sworn he was talking more to himself than he was you. “Not going to let anything hurt you.”
It took you a moment to process it.
Simon had taken you... You were in his home and no one knew you were here. You didn't even know where exactly you were.
And Simon was touching you.
He was touching you. After years of working together, Simon was caressing your cheek. Showing such softness that it actually scared you. He took note of how he could feel your heart rate even through his glove.
"Why?"
“I’m protecting you.” He said, growing irritated that you weren't getting it. “Do you have any idea what they would have done to you?" He asked rhetorically, waiting rather patiently for you to be thanking him for saving you.
"Do..." Your head began to spin, trying to pull your mind away from all the possibilities on what could have happened. "Do I have to stay here?" You asked.
Simon was a patient man, but you beginning to test that patience. He let out a huff before pulling his hand away and placing it on your bare knee.
"Just until it all gets sorted." He lied, giving you a squeeze that he could only hope was reassuring. Even after they found the leak, you wouldn't be leaving him.
"Oh." You swallowed, nodding in understanding. "Okay." You let out a staggered breath trying to calm down. You were going to have to stay in this confined space, already feeling the claustrophobia creeping in as you felt the dark cement walls move in closer and closer. "Is there a bathroom I can use in here?" You asked, praying he wouldn't leave you with a bucket and a roll of toilet paper.
Simon laughed. He actually barked out a laugh, making you jump. "I meant you'll have to stay here with me." He clarified. "Not in the basement."
"Oh," the tenseness in your body seemed to ease up. "Good. It just feels..." you didn't finish. Too afraid to insult the man who quite literally held your life in his hands.
"No worries." he assured, finally taking his hand off of you to stand up. He held his palm out waiting for you to take his hand.
Without thinking twice, you did. Letting him help you stand even though your legs felt like they would give out at any minute. At the slight wobble of your knees, Simon took the liberty of scooping you up. A gasp escaping you.
Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Afraid that even though you had seen the man basically serve as a human battering-ram, you were afraid he would somehow drop you.
Simon's fingers ached to feel the softness of your thighs. He wanted to badly to come downstairs without his gear on. Bare himself to you. Reveal the face of the man behind the mask. Scars and all. He was worried that would have made it worse. Waking up in a basement, handcuffed to a bed with an unknown man aching to touch you.
He would show you his face soon enough. You would grow to love it. Each scar and imperfection on his face. His crooked nose and the touch of his calloused hands.
He planned to have you begging for it. To pepper kisses along his cheeks. Beg for his touch on your skin. Begging him to bury his fingers, his cock inside you. You would ache for him just as he had ached for you all this time.
You would fall as deeply as he had.
You would come to love your life with Simon.
No matter how long it took you to accept it.
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tarjapearce · 24 hours
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Mi Dulce Cereza
Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader
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Synopsis: Revenge's path is never an easy feat. Not when love for the enemy and other feelings get in the way. Would it rise and come out as a victor? Or would it succumb to the sweetest of beings?
WARNING: Novela level drama, Toxic relationships, character introduction, mild and brief sexual tension, No use of YN, Family feud, scheming, disingenuous behaviors. No proofread
Summary: Miguel's revenge is set into motion.
A/N: Centuries later, here it is <3, hope you enjoy this new version! So nervous about this jskjs. Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 for the help <3
"Ma!"
The ten-year-old boy called, desperate as he searched and scourged the house he lived in, to eventually find her mother in his younger brother's room.
Ravenous and long curls adorned her back. Brown beautiful eyes stared with adoration at the little six-year-old boy, carefully tucked in her arms as she combed her child's wavy strands away from his innocent face.
"Ma!" the boy called a bit more urgent as he tugged on her skirt, earning him a hushed grunt from her.
"Gabriel está durmiendo, Miguel!" (Gabriel is sleeping)
"No, Ma! Debes venir a la entrada! Hay gente buscando a George!" (You gotta come to the door! There's people looking for George!)
Conchata quickly put Gabriel into his crib and darted to the entrance. Panic and bile rose in her insides.
The banging on the feeble and rusty metal doors alarmed Conchata the more she approached the main hacienda's door.
Much to her and Miguel's surprise a group of men, awaited outside. Dressed in the blue and white colors proper of a Santa Margarita's Town police officer.
Miguel's eyes wandered over the guns that nested on the men's hips as they rode their horses haughtily. But paid special attention to the man leading them.
Hardened and weathered face, partially obscured by his camel brown Stetson hat, dressed up sharply, letting his belt and the overall imposing aura to do the talk for him, same as his horse and everything that donned his body. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Conchata.
"Miss Stone. I believe it's the third time I ask for you to leave" He acknowledged sternly.
A surname that made Miguel's churn in utter discomfort, but his mother always told him to give that name to strangers, since the O'Hara was only for the family. But even that one didn't sit right in his heart either. Not when the provider of such surname had been long gone from their lives, with no intention of returning.
And the men before his home were everything but familiar, strangers at best. Invaders. Trespassers with a penchant for intimidation as they were all armed to the teeth.
"The hell you want?!" Conchata crossed her arms and returned the steely glare the handsome and powerful man gave her.
His mother's bravado was certainly something Miguel could look up, despite the woman not being her best title of mother with him. But her bravery made him courageous.
"For you to leave my property."
"What are you talking about?! This is not your property, Anderton!"
A man like Pastor William was hard to ignore, not when power and influences oozed from him by merely existing.
"It is. You're living in Edenton's. Half the area is mine now."
"I have my property papers! This is outright ridiculous!" Conchata huffed as she sent Miguel to to get them.
"My lawyer is here. So we can have this settled once for all."
"There is nothing to settle!, I told your people I wouldn't sell my home and now you're acting far from someone that believes in God to get it!, maldita rata!" (fucking rat)
William narrowed his eyes at the last words that spilled with venom from Conchata's plump lips. He wasn't a man to give easily into anger, but his patience wasn't something to be tested either.
He had bought a good chunk of Edenton's territory and much to Conchata's dismay her home was right in the middle of said property.
The boy wasted no time into retrieving her mother's proofs of ownership as she opened the door to see the man that ground her nerves in seconds. Face to face.
And when the policeman and lawyer took a brief look at them, they could only snort in derision upon reading them.
"Not only are they outdated, but the important signatures are missing. This is fake."
Conchata paled, and she clutched her chest. Her heart pounded so hard she had to grab Miguel's lanky arm to support herself. Everything was slowly falling apart.
"Ma?"
Her boy looked up at her, concern plastered over his young yet understanding face
"T-That cannot be! George left it all arranged before leaving!"
"He didn't. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."
William gave the papers to his lawyer as he climbed off the horse and Conchata immediately tried to get them back, but tore them im the process
"No! No! That's not true! My papers " She shrieked and the police officer intervened as soon as she tried to go for Anderton's lawyer.
"Stop! " Miguel was held back after kicking the officer's shin.
Conchata freed herself from the guard's grip, only to deliver a hard slap on William's face.
"La vas a pagar caro cabrón! A mi nadie me sacará de mi casa!" (You'll pay for this. None kicks me out of my home!)
The officers held Conchata back and Miguel, since the boy attempted to defend the remnants of his mother's dignity. But there was little they could do.
Conchata's land was prosperous, and so far it provided a good income to live rather peacefully and away from the rest. Until now.
William was rather strict and apprehensive about his properties. He owed half the town, and for Conchata to live there, right in the spot he wanted to build his home for his new family, rendered nothing but a black and ugly spot to his future dream.
Buthe would erase it. And if he needed to get over the law, to get it, he would. Influences had their perks. And these worked to his favor without a hitch.
"I'll give you three days for you to pack it up 'n leave."
"Three days?! Where am I going to find a place to live? My children... I can't leave-"
"I'm sure the local shelters will take you in gladly. Be grateful I got you time."
William seethed with his usual calm, sending shivers down Miguel's spine, as the boy held onto his mother's skirt.
The men turned around in their horses and soon began galloping away, but William got up on the beast back, remaining high and proud. Looking down at him.
For a man to make Conchata to clutch and hold on to him so protectively, meant she had no power at all. That she had been defeated. Something his childish brain thought impossible.
It reminded him the ways she sometimes protected him and Gabriel from George in his usual drunk fits.
That day, Pastor William Anderton remained forever engraved in Miguel's core memories and in his heart's growing rage.
Resentment wasn't often a feeling a boy so young like him should experience. But there he was, memorizing every dip, pore and soft wrinkle from the man's features so his heart and mind wouldn't forget him.
So he wouldn't forget who had been the monster that forced his family to leave and abandon everything he had known so far.
Miguel O'Hara had no longer a home.
But if there was something William had forgotten, was to never scorn a woman. Much less one with a fiery temper and a heart full of fresh wounds.
He had doused her wounded heart in salt, rubbed with it and then tossed it to the fire. To let it break and burn to ashes.
William hadn't shown mercy, despite the word coming from his mouth every Sunday in his church as part of his speech to the masses.
But Conchata's mind was already turning and plotting.
----
Miguel's upbringing was everything but easy, but that didn't stop him from achieving whatever goals he proposed.
Shelters and rental homes were left behind, and soon he earned a scholarship into a college, earning him a degree and masters in agronomy and large-scale management.
Gabriel in the meantime helped Conchata around the house. Having little side hustles for himself.
But as he grew up, so did his hatred for the Andertons. It didn't help that Conchata threw more dry hatred bones to the vengeful fire with her bitter tells. She always boasted on whatever little thing the Andertons did with spite and hatred in her heart.
William's face remained intact in Miguel's brain. Ever hardened and cruel, impassive to anyone else's suffering. Indifferent to his mother's pleas.
The day they left everything they knew, scarred him to this very day. Miguel sworn to one day, he'd owe his own estate, full of everything he always wanted.
He wouldn't have to sojourn through shelters and temporary homes ever again, having a hard time sleeping because of his mother's safety. He wouldn't have to look down in fear and shame when people that breathed and exhaled money, talked to him.
He wouldn't have to see his mother, shitty as she was sometimes, breaking down for not having for the most basic of needs. And he definitely wouldn't let himself to be trampled all over again by anyone. Not rich, nor poor.
Now, with a master's degree in his pocket, a new project rose in his mind. Train and rehab horses professionally. An emerging and blooming business within Santa Margarita.
Everything out of hearing that William entered a new venture. Purebred horses.
Of course a man like him had to be in the mouth of every people in town.
William ran the biggest church in the city, had multiple successful and clean business thanks to his estate, Cherryville. And now, the horses.
A novelty in town. He'd often see through the newspaper images of William and his wife, Rosaura, telling how wonderful and valuable they were for the community, and how much their philanthropic tendencies helped those in need. The man was rotting money after all.
Oh, the irony. Miguel sometimes wondered if William did it out of genuine vocation, cause he had to give the man some credit for keeping a saint facade in front of the rest for so long. He was doing it go hard or go home.
If people only knew the scum he is.
If everyone truly knew who Pastor William J. Anderton was, none would spare him a glance. None would look at his way twice to spare him some kind words. Everyone would shun him and mark him a fraud. His world would collapse. Something Miguel needed to achieve.
The purebred training horse's business opened his contact list, and with his smarts and the follow of his intuition, it took him a couple of years to get him in the map of those that were in dire need of help and could afford it.
Cause if he could exploit the rich, he wouldn't waste the chance of earning good money. Not when his personal estate was under construction and renovations, away in it's own heaven, outside Santa Margarita.
He stopped introducing himself as Miguel Stone long ago. He didn't want anything to do with that surname that stirred nothing but hatred and suffocating anger, towards the man that harmed his little and already broken family even more. And the O'Hara had earned him a bit of reputation.
A credible and respectful renown to meet people that gave him the chance to not only learn from the best horse trainers, but gave him the chance to apply everything he knew. Adding even more value to his resume.
Gabriel also graduated college, following Miguel's steps. Although the latter was more inclined to production than management. He was a more practical man than the over thinker of his brother.
Together they made a phenomenal duo, but when separated, months could pass before they saw eachother again.
But with Miguel's plan running, Gabriel promised him to remain close and available as possible to see it through.
In fact, William sought him out himself to ask him if he could train his horses and took full on responsibility of his farm.
-----
He was ready to set his plan into motion. None other than his number one enemy had hired him.
Miguel's body buzzed with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Being the best to get hired was scratched off his list.
Soon all the hatred festering in his heart to the man that destroyed his childhood and family, would come to fruition. But there was a remaining distraction.
Dana.
"Remind me again, why are you going to a farm to be exploited and mistreated by rich people?"
The soft voice behind him echoed in his room. Miguel sat naked on the bed, as the short-haired brunette with blue eyes hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek and neck.
"Gotta make it as believable as possible if I want to expose the Andertons."
Dana just hummed, seeing him so determined and focused into getting this family feud, settled once and for all, amused her to no end.
Dana rolled her eyes while resting her chin on his sharp and well worked shoulder, "But no need to be so serious."
It was Miguel's turn to roll his eyes and stand up, reaching his underwear in tandem.
"Don't be cold, Miggy. I just wanna see you again, once you're victorious, so we can keep celebrating"
Miguel chuckled with derision as he took a towel and wrapped it up loosely against his waist.
"I'm good, thanks. And there's no we in this."
"Are you sure? I mean, I spread word around on you and look at you now. The best trainer. I'd say I'm also part of this too"
Her voice irked sometimes whenever it got like this. Sickly sweet and full of lies. Even more when she purred nothing but half truths.
In truth, he had met Dana for the past six months, all thanks to Gabriel that suggested her as a contact link to those he wanted to get at. Filthy and obscenely rich people that needed someone to help them out with their properties as soon as possible, to salvage them out of sentimentalism.
Even though the initial chemistry was undeniable, it had worn out thanks to her insufferable and possessive attitude. And no matter how many times he'd tell her a plain and outright No, she kept insisting. She was the one that always returned and always ended up in his bed.
"Yeah, no. Look, I don't want you snooping around. And I mean it."
The only that believed that they were something. Sure, Dana served his purpose to keep those physical urges away, but other than that, there was nothing substantial about her he could say he was attracted to, besides her contacts.
Dana's hands tried to reach him, but Miguel stepped away from her touch, recoiling with haste and heading for the shower.
"If you ruin this for me, I swear, We'll have problems."
More than they already did? Impossible.
Dana just laughed, "Don't be mean, you gotta reward me one way or another for your clientele."
"Dios mio... Con qué loca me vine a enredar" (My God, what a crazy woman I came to get involved with)
He mumbled while stepping into the shower.
"I'll see you soon, baby." Her giggles had his eyes rolling with annoyance and his shoulders squaring.
He'd leave in a couple of hours, to start what his whole self had been preparing for years. Soon the Andertons would know him.
----
Returning to the place he grew up had his stomach in a tight and anxious knot, tighter than a hair's tangle.
The once colorless and rusty metal doors he loved to slam with his soccer ball while playing with Gabriel, were now turned into sturdy, iron structures that moved automatically. Sliding to the side to let him in as soon as he reported himself through the camera's speaker.
A Stony L-shaped wall held a metallic letters into another metallic structure. Cherryville Ranch.
He had arrived and his heart beat at the uncomfortable sensation of seeing his home destroyed and turned into a colonial-like resort.
Where there was a modest yet firm built, one floored home, was now a two floored manor that extended left to right. A vibrant sunset orange dressed the walls of the structure, adding enough color to the place sumptuous grandeur.
The staff ran up and down, bustling and moving like busy ants through the anthill, obeying the queen. Or rather monarchs.
His black Chevrolet Silverado parked outside, following the instructions of a man that gave him the ok with a good smile.
He had arrived ten minutes earlier, just in case. Miguel stepped out and put on his hat.
A black and brown flannel dressed up his torso snugly, a pair of jeans that did a wonderful job into containing his well worked legs, the belt just hugged his narrow waist, accentuating his sculpted physique.
The man offered his help with his suitcase, but Miguel refused with a polite smile.
"Keep going straight and you'll get to Mr. Anderton's office. It's the only brown door in this floor."
Strong hands clenched at the name of his enemy.
"Thanks."
Miguel had to take a moment to breathe in and take his surroundings.
Everything he remembered from his childhood, gone. His heart felt mike coming home to a stranger's home. Foraying in someone else's territory.
A someone that obliterated every single bit of his childhood, every piece of memory he created with Gabriel, forever gone and buried.
Replaced with over the top decors, a fake sense of coziness, hidden lies embedded in the sunset like sturdy walls, and people he once strived to be like. All now trespassers and inconnus.
Conchata always fed his brain into believing greater things, alway encouraged him to keep the hatred alive.
Would she be proud to see how far on his plan had he gotten? Probably. Even if she was busy with her new boyfriend that provided everything.
Some women shushed and spilled their gasp as he passed, leaving his presence alone to do the talk for him regarding the effect he had on women.
But this land, his once forgotten and forlorn home, would be his again.
With steadfast steps, he ventured in the enemy's territory, passing rooms and people that unavoidably watched him with brief curiosity.
But all those hubristic thoughts sapped away as soon as his eyes came in contact with the door.
A thrilled and anxious chill ran down his spine upon hearing the terse voice of his sworn foe, giving orders to someone in particular. Miguel's throat felt arid.
His heart thumped a miles per second, his breath paced into a more agitated pace and his eyes kept blinking, readying themselves to face his nemesis.
"Come in."
He obeyed and his nose flared, releasing a shaky exhale when seeing William. Same weather and cold face, the only difference was him looking a bit more rugged and his white hairs even more prominent.
It was as if time had barely passed over him.
It took every single cell and fibre of his body to control the urge to punch him in the face. But the satisfaction of having the reversed roles for a moment brought satisfaction like no other.
This time William had to crane up his head to see him, and a chill ran down his spine when meeting Miguel's red-ish brown eyes. Piercing and judging with all the intention of doing so, as if the very man before him knew his deepest secrets.
The door shut with a quiet click and Miguel stepped closer.
"Mr. O'Hara." William stood to meet him with a brief and firm handshake.
"Sir."
William nodded with a brief smile and gestured for him to sit before him.
"Must say what people say about you, do you justice."
"Good things I hope."
"Now. The property you'll be in charge is  in a bit of a mishap, I've barely had the time to fix it-"
"S'alright. It's part of the barn you said?"
"Indeed. Your functions are detailed in the contract, payment is every fortnight, unless you'd like to choose another type of payment time."
"Fortnight is alright."
William pushed the contract to Miguel, and this wasted no time in reading it and taking a picture of each page.
"Any doubts you, can call me and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."
Miguel signed and pushed the paper back to him. William put it on a folder and then put it on a file. He turned off his computer, and lead the way towards the stables.
"I've tried everything, and nothing works. People have told me to sacrifice the horse, but I can't do that."
Miguel wandered after William through the never ending halls of the estate, there was nothing left of his home. Not even the built in stone oven, where he'd watch Conchata prepare dinner and he'd help out with the tortillas.
Now full of modern equipment and full of people cooking different things he couldn't name.
Miguel had to admit that the stables were his favorite part from the whole dollhouse. William knew no concept of budget. But that was alright, cause every horse in it was worth every single penny and had turned it into a lovely stable aisle.
Each horse had its own fortified enclosure, well kept and clean. There were no bad odors, dirt, mud. None of that. Matter of fact, his eyes blinked when seeing some horses having a swim in a giant custom made pool.
Everything in Cherryville oozed with power and money.
Having revenge and interacting with horses he only dreamed of while getting paid, felt the ultimate fantasy came true.
The angry neigh of a horse snapped him out of his thoughts. The black Friesian stallion kicked and nipped another brown horse nearby. The caretakers immediately separated them both.
William sighed deeply and defeated. And Miguel approached to inspect the brown mustang horse.
"That's Joaquín. The black one is Agustín."
Miguel quirked his brow at the name choices but was glad to have something he was familiar with.
Miguel chuckled and nodded
"Do you know spanish, Mr. Anderton?"
"The amount enough to understand when my wife is angry."
"I see."
As much as he wanted to let out an array of insults here and there to test his words, he'd keep his sharp tongue for himself.
"You can start tomorrow, I'll let you get installed. The barn is in good conditions to suit your needs. If anything is missing, ask any of the helpers around."
With a final and firm handshake, William left.
Miguel gave himself a tour. He wanted to familiarize with the property as much as he could. He didn't like to rely on others for the simplest of task.
Even his way to the barn had been paved and well lighted. No longer being the muddy a d dark road he loved to splash his feet in, even if that meant to have his ear pulled by Conchata later.
The barn, like the rest, took his breath away. It looked like a house for himself.
He wasted no time into admiring the work, and effort put into it. The tack room was sure a thing, but his bedroom and office were even better conditioned. It was a place worth of his skills and knowledge.
Miguel begun unpacking and installing himself. From his window he could see yet another extension of property, Bodegas and the staff living quarters he supposed.
One thing he had forgotten about the place were the torrential rains that always seeped in. Sometimes the blackouts were so common he'd rather be candle lit.
And another entrance to the whole facility adjacent a couple of blocks from his barn.
---
He had finished his shower after spending his evening trying to get acquainted with Agustín and the rest of his crew. Overall and so far it seemed the perfect place to work, but also a challenge.
Thunders roared outside and rain kept flogging every surface it could, permeating to the core. He was ready to make his bed and call Gabriel when the lights were out.
A loud whir echoed through, before the lights returned, the generator wasted to time into working.
What alerted him was the main entrance opening and closing shut.
Had a worker slipped in?
Another blackout happened as he approached to the door only to find a soaked and gorgeous woman shivering on the entrance.
"Ma'am?"
----
Your friends had promised to be a casual party among the singletons in town, nothing more, nothing less. But time and drinks kept going, like the fun.
Until you had enough. As an Anderton you had a reputation to keep, but you were glad your friends made you feel a normal woman, free of keen and expecting eyes and societal etiquettes.
Free of the overbearing role model you had to be for being the Pastor's daughter.
But right now all you cared for was to get inside the barn to give your body a rest from the cold.
The once lovely dress you wore was now hugging you with a vice like grip, suffocating your curves like a second skin. The red and short cardigan around your shoulders did little to nothing to protect you from the unforgiving rain. Hair stuck to your shivering face, teeth clattered as you looked through the window. The rain had no intention to stop.
Your hands removed the cardigan, then tossed the clothing piece to the floor, as you rubbed some heat back.
"Ma'am?"
The rich and deep voice got you jumping in your spot.
"Oh, my god... I'm-" You swallowed when seeing the handsome man before you, dressed up in nothing but his grey sweatpants and some slippers. A towel hung loosely on one of his shoulders.
His brow quirked as his face remained serene.
"I-I'm sorry didn't know the barn was occupied."
You kept rubbing your arms, hoping for the rain to drop. A loud thunder made you recoil from the door, while the drip drops scurrying off your body rolled down to the floor, joining into a puddle beneath your red heeled sandals.
If it wasn't for your hair sticking on your cheeks, the man would definitely see the profuse blush emerging on them. Shirtless men weren't in your everyday occurrence, much less handsome and tall men with beautiful eyes that seized your soul.
A smirk came on Miguel's face, as he retrieved another towel from the bathroom and he approached.
"I got installed today, it's ok."
He gave you the towel, and you took with a grateful smile. Immediately pat drying your face, neck and arms.
He watched you with sharp eyes, following your hand's movement as he slicked back his hair.
You were gorgeous. And drenched to the bones. That little dress did little to keep his eyes wandering to your thighs, marveling at the soft and plumpness of them. He had to look away as soon as his eyes stopped on your chest. The outline of your nipples poking out the dress, gave him enough distraction for a moment.
You didn't look past twenties.
"Uhm..." Your sweet and stammering voice made him curious.
Such a polite girl.
"Yes?"
"Can I use the barn's phone, please?"
He shook his head softly and opened his office. Letting the door open for you to enter.
"Of course."
"Sorry for the floor."
Your arms crossed on your chest, giving him a glimpse of your cleavage. Then fetched the phone, the number however made him frown as it was William's personal contact number.
"Hello? Papa? Can you send someone to the barn with an umbrella, please?"
Papa
Miguel blinked as he stared your way from the door frame. This was even better than he anticipated.
He was so deep in his scheming that forgot William's family. So far he knew, the Anderton man had only one child. And he was now looking at said person.
He could see some bits of William in you, specially in your nose and cheekbones. The rest was your mother's doing.
And what a good job they've made.
"I know, I'm sorry. Got too caught up in the party."
Miguel luck couldn't truly get any better. He could even taste his revenge through his mouth. It was sweet as your perfume.
"Thanks. Love you!"
You hung up the call and smiled his way.
"Thank you. Mr...?"
"O'Hara. Miguel O'Hara."
You gave him your name with a sweet smile as he shook your hand amiably.
"Right. So you're the new trainer?"
His lax frame slanted against the doorframe, blocking your way from the entrance with his form. His eyes fixed you with an enigmatic smirk.
Your nervousness was making your mind a jumbled mess by simply being around him. Half-naked men and men were off the list. Mainly because your parents' strict beliefs. And the man that would get you, would be your future husband. Without discussion.
"I am. Yes. Quite impressive the settlement you've got."
"Ah, well. Dad takes seriously his businesses, and he needs all the help he can get. So thank you for coming."
"My pleasure to help, señorita."
His lip curled, almost imperceptible upon your flustered reaction. Your skin remained with goosebumps.
"Come. Let's get you warmed up."
You followed him to the fireplace and soon he got another towel since the one you had was soaked through.
You sat in front of the fireplace and he draped your shoulders with the dry and cozy towel to then sit across you.
"Thanks" You gulped and extended your hands towards the fire, gaining a much needed wave of heat.
He couldn't wait for you to leave and call Gabriel to tell him everything he had seen so far. Everything was beyond perfect, like if the universe itself had delivered his revenge on a silver platter.
A couple of minutes passed before a familiar voice to you echoed from outside the barn.
"Mi niña! Let's go!"
The ever familiar voice of your nana called, and you stood.
"Thanks for the help, Miguel."
"Anytime, señorita."
He nodded with a softened smile, that didn't reach his eyes and watched you leave.
"See you soon!" You waved and headed back to the main doors. Your heels clicking on the floor.
"Vicky!" you squeezed under the umbrella after your nana secured the towel.
You wanted to give Miguel a last thanking but the latter had already closed the door. You left to the manor.
Miguel rushed to fetch his phone and immediately called Gabriel. He picked up after the third ringing.
Miguel talked and rambled about everything he had seen, and Gabriel could only listen. Expectant.
"Lemme get some months in and then you can come. That way we gather more evidence."
"What about that woman? Anderton's daughter."
He sighed with a dreamy heave.
"She looks the type that's perfect for luring."
"Use her to your advantage. Hit em right where it hurts."
"I'll do it. Don't worry. She's too kind and sweet. Won't see it coming."
With this new piece of information, Miguel could do so many things. But his goal was clear.
He'd hit William right where he dared hit Conchata a long time ago.
He'd go after you. And if that meant to act like he adored you, then so be it.
His revenge was finally in motion.
----
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202 notes · View notes
mariasont · 3 days
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Office Sleepover 2 - A.H
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a/n: had sm fun writing this one yall
im so down bad for him ugh
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
part one here!
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader flashes hotch AGAIN, drinking on government property lmao, drunk reader, suggestive comments
wc: 3.2k
You were restless, to put it simply. Every conceivable activity within the BAU had been exhausted, and you had explored every nock and cranny of the office, leaving no corner untouched. At this point they should start paying you for tour guides because you'd be an expert.
You were bored, frankly, and lonely--the team had been on a case all week and you were stuck here. How Garcia managed was beyond you--the walls seemed to close in on you as stir craziness took hold. You kept busy with work, offering as much help as possible while staying put, but it really wasn't the same.
You missed the team, and a particular member's absence you felt just a tad more, though you wouldn't admit it. Thankfully, they were supposed to be back any second now. While Penelope had a special place in your heart, the thought of sitting through another round of her and Kevin's awkward flirting was almost too much to bear. Without Hotch to keep it in check, it was all the more excruciating.
"Bye, Kevin," you chimed in unison, your voices intertwining just as the door clicked shut behind him.
Once you were sure he wasn't coming back, you shot Pen a knowing glance, arching an eyebrow as you pointed one of her fuzzy pens at her.
"Ease up on the death stare, will ya?" Penelope chided, as she wheeled her chair back to her computers, her finger twirling towards you. "You get so broody when the boss man's gone."
You lobbed the pen in Penelope's direction. "No," you replied with a huff. "I get broody when the whole team leaves me behind."
"Gasp," Penelope declared, placing a hand over her heart. "Can you believe it? They're genuinely concerned for your well-being. The audacity!"
"Okay, but seriously, what's the bigger priority here--my life or my sanity? Because it's a fine line," you said with a shrug, pushing your chair back dramatically.
But, before the chair could gain any momentum, you found yourself abruptly against the wall, your head cushioned by an unexpected softness. Without a moment to comprehend, your chair was spun, your eyes growing impossibly wide as Hotch's belt appeared abruptly in your line of sight. You raised your eyes to meet his.
"Your life, I would wager," he said evenly, "but then again, I might be a little biased."
You sprang to your feet, too quickly, your foot catching, sending you lurching forward. Almost instantly, Hotch's hand was securing around your arm, preventing you from landing straight on your face.
"Oh, Hotch, sir, hi," you said, flustered and slightly disoriented. "I didn't realize you guys were back."
"We just got back," he said, his hand falling away from your arm, and you hated yourself for how you felt a subtle coolness that replaced the comforting heat of his touch. "Do you have those reports I asked for?"
"Oh, absolutely, they're ready at my desk," you assure. "I'll bring them to your office in a sec."
As he nods and exits, your scoop up your belongings from Penelope's desk, raising a finger. "Don't even say it, Pen."
You ignored the way she cackled as you left, moving to your desk to grab the needed papers. You attention was captured by Spencer and Emily standing by her desk. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around them both, pressing them against you.
"Ugh, I missed you guys so much."
They both laugh, their hands taking you in quickly as you lean against them.
Emily grins, ruffling your hair as she nudges you. "A week away and you're this clingy? We'll have the start weaning you off us, huh?"
"Don't tease," Spencer starts, his hand resting on your shoulder, "But out of curiosity, how many times did you check our desks while we were gone?"
"Too many times to count," you admit begrudgingly, a sheepish grin on your face. As you glance up, your eyes catch Hotch's through the glass pane. "Oops, almost forgot why I came down here."
Approaching Hotch's office, you tap on the door frame and enter. "Here ya go, sir." you offer, extending the documents toward him.
Your fingers lightly touch as he takes the papers, and for a moment, you're rooted to the spot, the brief contact sparking a surge of disarray in your senses. God, it's almost beyond belief that one man could have this kind of effect on you.
Hotch nods his acknowledgement. "Thanks," he murmurs. As you pivot to leave, he adds, "Could you sit down for a moment?"
You cast a teasing look over your shoulder. "I hope I'm not in trouble," you say. His expression doesn't change. "Wait, am I? Because that would definitely be enough to push me over the edge, sir."
"No, you're not in trouble," Hotch assures you. "I've received updates concerning your case."
You lowered yourself into the chair, hands perched in your lap, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. "Please tell me it's good news because I'm starting to forget what my own bed feels like."
"You've been here just over a week," Hotch states, matter-of-fact.
You blow out a breath, arms crossed over your chest. "Hotch, it's scary at night."
He clears his throat, "Anyway, it's good news. We've got a lead on the hitman, though it's not the all-clear you're wanting."
"Well, that's something at least," you concede with a nod. "But I don't get why I can't be involved in this investigation."
As Hotch opens his mouth, you jump in, deepening your voice to copy his. "Because you're too close to it."
He regards you steadily, clearly not amused.
"Yup, okay, I'm done, sorry, I'm leaving now," you relent, getting to your feet quickly and striding towards the door, but a hand beats you to it, closing it abruptly and effectively barricading you in.
With a quick turn, you ended up flush against the door, Hotch's hand resting against the wood just above your ear. You felt like you were short-circuiting, your eyes growing wide as they met his. He says your name, but it doesn't quite register--too engrossed in the heady scent of his cologne, the pressing warmth of his body, the nearness of his chest, so close that an inch's movement could mean a soft kiss to his neck. Not like that would be totally inappropriate or anything.
"What?"
"I said, I'm worried about you."
You wanted to kiss him, man, you really wanted to kiss him. You bit the inside of your cheek to refrain from doing so.
"Why?"
It was barely audible, more air than sound, not daring to disturb the space too much, afraid of him suddenly becoming aware of just how close he was.
"You're very quick to make light of things, to make jokes, but I'm asking you to be real with me here. What are you feeling?"
His hand left the door, settling on your shoulder, his thumb hovering just shy of the hollow of your neck. Unconsciously, you found yourself leaning into the gentle pressure.
"That sounded sarcastic, Hotch," you noted, your tongue briefly sweeping across your lips, which seemed to dry out as you talked. "You're not implying my jokes need work, are you?"
His lack of response and narrowing eyes made you cave.
"Okay, fine, Hotch. You want the truth? I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I have nightmares every night? That I can't sleep?"
Your breaths came faster, teeth meshing tightly as you stared up at your boss. His hand found your cheek, his thumb sketching a path across your skin that ignited a trail of goosebumps over your whole body, making you hyper-aware of your every pore.
"What can I do to help?"
Stay with you, kiss you, fuck you--numerous thoughts ran raced through your thoughts, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate.
"N-Nothing, Hotch, really, I'm okay. It's not something that can be fixed, which is why I didn't say anything. Plus, everyone on this team has been through worse. I can handle it. I'm tougher than I look."
"I know you are, but I—," his words were cut short, a sudden knock at the door silencing him mid-sentence.
His hands fell away from you, but the sensation lingered, the heat of his touch seeming to brand you, marking where he had been. You ran a hand through your hair in an attempt regain some form of composure, just as he opened the door to reveal JJ.
Her eyes darted between the two of you, finally focusing on Hotch. "Sorry, guys, I have that footage from the press conference--is that what you needed?"
"Yes, right." Hotch nodded, pulling the door open further for her, then returning his attention to you, observing your flushed cheeks and uneven breath. "We'll continue this later, okay?"
"Yeah," you exhaled sharply before ducking out of the room.
You need to get a grip, or maybe a Xanax, probably both.
Once the office had emptied, leaving you alone, you sat pitifully on your bed. It was Friday, but there was not much cause for celebration when you were stuck here, surrounded by stale office air. You sprawled out on the mattress, tracing the patterns of the popcorn ceiling overhead. If someone didn't figure out this hitman situation, you were going to take him out yourself.
Not really, that would definitely be a death wish. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled shuffling outside your door. Sitting up, you slid into your slippers and stepped out into the hallway.
"There she is!"
You snickered as Penelope extended her arms with jazz hands, while JJ and Emily lifted their arms to show off their wine stash. Gratefully grabbing a glass from Emily, you pulled them all into a group hug. "I can't help but feel like we're about to be the subject of a very specific memo from HR after this."
Giggles from JJ accompanied the wine pouring as you stepped back. "Hotch is surprisingly on board we this—encouraged it even. Can you believe it?"
Warmth dusted over your cheeks at the thought. You wanted to kiss him even more, if that was even possible.
"Trust me," Penelope insisted, shaking her head as she paused for a drink. "I wouldn't dare cross HR again. Once was more than enough."
You wanted to say you were a classy gal, confident in your ability to drink responsibly--it was only wine, after all, not Everclear. But as the night went on, your voice rose a decibel too high, your balance a bit unreliable, and your displays of affection way too unrestrained.
You were already a touchy person, ask any of your team members, but with a few drinks, you're giving high school sweethearts a run for their money in the PDA department.
Your arms were flung around JJ's neck, peppering her cheek with kisses as you sang along to whatever music Pen was playing in between smooches. JJ was laughing, tilting backward on her heels, nearly knocking you both over.
"I love you guys. So so much." you said, each word stretched and muddled as you reached out to Penelope, who happily linked her fingers with yours.
"You are so drunk!" Emily accused, her palms squishing your face as she chuckled.
"'M not," you protested, words stifled by compressed cheeks.
She freed your face to grab more wine, Penelope not far behind, as you situated yourself on your desk chair.
"You know who I also love?" you questioned to no one in particular as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. "Morgan, Reid, Dave, and--,"
You paused, your nose crinkling as you bit down hard on your tongue.
"And?" Penelope pressed, brows raised as she looked at you expectedly.
"Hmm?" You hummed innocently, blowing a kiss her way as you shrugged off her question. "I'm gonna call Morgan."
Your eyes darted down to your phone, only to find the room swirling like a carousel. It took a heartbeat to register--someone's voice was already coming from the speaker.
"Hello? Morgan? How'd you know I was going to call you?"
"It's Hotch."
Your eyes grew comically large, a hand flying over your mouth, smothering the laughter that threatened to fall. "Hotch! It is so late! Why are you calling me?"
You shushed the group with a finger to your lips, the girls' curious eyes on you as JJ practically crawled towards you to eavesdrop.
"You called me." He paused. "Are you okay?"
"Hotch," his name was more of a whine than anything as you tossed your head back. "I'm fine, like, the definition of A-Okay. I'm with my friends and we're all kinds of okay."
You shot Emily a thumbs up.
"Good. Okay." Another pause. "Maybe drink some water, yeah? No more wine."
You gasped. "Agent Hotchner, I am a federal agent of the government. I know when I should be cut off."
"Oh, my god, get her off the phone."
You don't know who said it, but it sent you spiraling into another round of giggles, the phone slipping through your fingers while JJ pounced on it.
"Hey!"
She held up a hand, keeping the device just out of reach.
"Yeah, she's pretty drunk." JJ said, then frowned. "Hotch, listen she's more of a lightweight than we realized." You slumped against the chair. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."
JJ ended the call and placed it back into your hands. "I cannot wait until you remember this in the morning," she sang, before casting a glance to the others. "Also, a heads-up--Will's almost here."
"No!" It came out louder than intended, almost a shout, as you stood, sending Spencer's pens tumbling. "Whoopsie." You latched onto Penelope, murmuring, "Stay here, don't leave me."
Penelope's laughter rang out, her hands cradling your head. "Worry not, I've set the security guy straight--if you get even a scratch, I'll make him regret the day he was born."
"See, this is why you're my favorite," you whispered.
"Heard that."
Will eventually texted JJ, letting her know he had arrived. As the they waited by the elevator, the doors slid open to reveal Hotch standing there. A squeal escaped you, matched by his single raised eyebrow surveying your condition.
Your cheeks were painted a rosy tint, hair in a delightful tangle, and your shirt hanging askew off your shoulder--you were an adorable spectacle of disorder, and he found himself suppressing the small smile that threatened to reveal his amusement as the other girls filed into the elevator.
He had made them promise not to leave until he got there, not keen on the idea of you being left alone like this. It might have been an exaggeration, but when you butt dialed him and he heard the sound of your slurred speech it had him envisioning all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Sure, he had seen you drink during team nights out, but nothing like this.
"Hotch!" You shouted, moving to him with a rapidity that might be, well definitely, was ill-advised.
He stood motionless as you looped your arms around his neck. You smelled so nice--a sweet hint of vanilla instead of the anticipated alcohol. After a brief hesitation, his hands slowly found their way to your waist.
"What are you doing here, silly?" You ask, pulling back just enough to see his face. "Wait a second, please don't say we have a case."
A subtle smile played on his face, his hand not budging from your back. "No, there's no case."
"Oh, good," you murmured, your head bobbing lightly in approval. The light touch of your fingers at the base of his neck spread a warmth through him. "You want a drink? I think there's still some wine left."
"No, I'm fine," he said, clearing his throat and taking a step back. "I think you need to get to bed."
Your hands lingered at his neck, softly exploring his hair as you looked up with a smile that made his pulse race unexpectedly.
"Is that an order as my boss or a suggestion as my friend?"
He raised his brow. "Both?"
"Well, okay," you shrugged as you took a step back. "Wanna see my room? I don't think you've seen it yet. Everyone else has."
Without giving him a chance to object, you dashed down the hallway. He trailed behind with reluctance, knowing just how dangerous this could be for him. He was all too aware that he shouldn't be here, let alone in your room in your current, wine-fueled state.
You fumbled for the light, fingers slipping before finding the switch as you stumbled into the cramped room. It was pink. Very pink. The pullout couch was lost beneath a mountain of pillows, excessive by any standard. Your closet was bursting, and a collection of gadgets and gizmos had overtaken the room, but he liked it, a lot.
Your collapse onto the bed sent pillows scattering to the floor, his mind wandered about the unseen details of your bedroom at home, and even more so, the thought of what a shared space between you two might look like.
A sigh escaped him as he stood over you. "How about changing into your pajamas first, hm?"
"No thank you."
"You're going to hate yourself if you wake up in jeans tomorrow."
"Fine." You pouted, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Top right drawer please."
He shot you a look but obliged anyway. There was something about that puckered out bottom lip that made him think he'd do just about anything you asked, like he was putty in your hands. Pulling out the most conservative pair of pajamas from the sparse selection, he made a mental note to ask about that later.
"Thank you," you said with a smile. He really liked your smile. "You know, you're really such a nice person, Hotch. Or—Can I call you Aaron? Just tonight?"
He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest as the air was knocked out. "You can call me Aaron. Just tonight."
A high-pitched squeal escaped you as you began shedding your clothes. He offered a stifled cough, quickly averting his gaze and nudging the door closed with his free hand.
"Well, Aaron," you said plainly, "I really like you."
The effort it took for him not to pivot on his heel was immense, particularly when your voice sweetened like honey at the mention of his name.
"You're a great boss."
"I like you too, Agent."
"No, you don't, well, I mean—you can turn around now," you said. "You like me, but I really like you. It's not the same."
As he turned to face you, he could sense his cock twitching in his pants, a physical reaction to the sight of you fumbling with your shirt, your tits exposed in full view, as if begging to be touched.
"Christ," he hissed, gripping the ends of your shirt and yanking down. He was sure you were going to hate yourself in the morning. "You're not making sense, and I think you need to sleep it off."
"Yeah," you replied, your eyes warmly meeting his as you gave him a lopsided smile. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in such casual clothes, Aaron. You look very handsome."
He needed to get you to bed before he did something he'd regret. He softly nudged your shoulders backward, offering no verbal response. You surrendered to the motion with complaint, your remaining strength insufficient for anything else.
Softly, he settled to blankets around you, taking a moment to study you, with the intention of memorizing you completely (even the part of you that was far too drunk).
"Goodnight, Aaron."
He summoned all his restraint to keep from crashing his lips into yours. He smoothed back your hair, allowing himself that as he shot you a tired smile. "Goodnight."
He hadn't even touched the doorknob when your plea reached his ears. "Aaron, I—, will you stay with me?"
And who was he to deny you anything?
taglist: @chronicallybubbly
247 notes · View notes
lecl3rcw · 19 hours
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KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS | leclerc brothers x reader
_______________________
“Y/N, it’s the middle of the fucking night in Monaco? You better have a good ass reason too wake me up” Arthur groaned at his twin as he groggily.
“You won’t believe it.” She says
“What?”
“THE BENGALS INVITED ME TO THEIR GAME” she says, a sudden burst of excitement ran through her
“Who are the bengals again?” He sighs
“….”
“Oh wait, it’s that one dude you like, what was his name again Joe Burrow?”
“YEAH AND GET THIS, I can bring up to 5 people, so you’re coming and so are Charles, Alex, Lorenzo and Maman” she says excitedly.
“Who says I’m going?” He says, earning himself a scowl.
“You don’t want to come?” She says, “well I mean not really”
“Ofcourse you don’t! I always show up for your events and you never show up for mine” she says, maliciousness lacing her tone.
“Y/N please, this isn’t your event, you’re not walking the runway or attending a premiere” he says, his tone now matching hers.
“Well even if I was, not like you’d show up anyways” she mutters.
“What are you yapping about? You’re being so dramatic, I mean not everything revolves around you okay? Some of us have actual problems” he says giving the final blow.
The girl takes a deep breath to collect her self. All her life she had spent living in the shadows of her siblings. She just wanted someone to show up for her, she remembers her first runway show, she had 4 seats reserved for her family yet when she walked out, all 4 of those chairs were empty, why? Because Charles had a last minute deals with a brand. They called and apologized and Ofcourse she put a brave face on, but only the walls of her room heard the way she cried herself to sleep that night.
“You know what? I’m going to let that slide, I don’t know what’s going on with you but I hope you make peace with yourself, and you don’t have to come, I’ll just ask Charles and Enzo. But anyways goodnight” she says
“Y/N-” Arthur tries to interrupt but she hangs up before he can say anything.
Had she overreacted? She felt a sudden rush of guilt overcome her. She couldn’t help but overthink. Her train of thoughts were interrupted by a FaceTime call from her brother's girlfriend.
"Hey babygirl" Alexandra says, "Hey bae, what's up?" she says propping her phone up on the table.
“Just checking in with you and your man situation” Alex says, her and Charles were in the Maldives, “oh it’s good, I got invited to the bengals game so” she replies, “WAIT THATS SO GOOD” Alex says excitedly, Y/N smiles.
“Do you and Charles want to come with me?” She asks hopeful, “well Charles will be preparing for his race but I can definitely come!! When is it?” She asks, “next week!”
“Oh yeah I can definitely make it!” She says,
“Ok we can fly together!! But I I’ll see you next week love ya!” She says hanging up.
The week came even before she could blink.
“So Y/N you excited?” Alexandra says, and Y/N nods.
When they arrive at the stadium, Y/N is immediately greeted by the bengals team.
“Thankyou so much for being our guest, I’m the head coach Zac Taylor” a man says reaching his hand to which she smiles and accepts.
“This is my friend Alexandra!” She says as Alex also shakes his hand, from the corner of her eye, Y/N could feel a certain pair of blue eyes stare at her, and her cheek flushed more.
She waves to the rest of the team, however the man with blue eyes seems to approach her first. “Hey, my name is Joe, I’m the quarterback” he says extending his hand, “I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what that it” Y/N chuckles shaking his hand which caused him to smile.
“Well if you umm give me your number maybe some time could teach you about football” he says very smoothly, which causes her to get flustered.
“Oh yeah, d-definitely! Here” she says giving him her number as he smiles, “you have such a beautiful smile” Joe says bringing up her hand to his lips before letting it go, “I’ll talk to you later” he says waving before going to get ready for his game. She just stands there in shock wondering what happened.
Alexandra squeals, “I saw that!! Y/N he so likes you” she says hugging the girl.
Y/N laughs and shakes her head, but the whole time she couldn’t take her eyes of him.
joeyb_9 started following you
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y/n.leclerc
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y/n.leclerc modeling for Dior has always been a dream of mine, so thankful to take this huge step into my career with the most amazing photographers, stylists, and makeup artists🫶🏻
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, joeyb_9, charles_leclerc, and 13,000,000 others
alexandrasaintmleux mami😍
^ y/n.leclerc kiss me rn😍
charles_leclerc alex has been staring at the phone for the past 15 minutes….
^ y/n.leclerc sounds like a you problem bud😪
fan1 NOT JOE BURROW LIKING?!!?!
^ fan2 IK HE NEVER LIKES
joeburrowswife idk I don’t see the hype
^ y/n2fine yet she’s pulling your “man”
rachelzegler welcome to the squad Y/N❤️
^ y/n.leclerc Thankyou rach💕🥹
bellahadid weird way to propose but yes😍
^ y/n.leclerc SHE SAID YES YALL💍👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻
364 notes · View notes
essektheylyss · 10 hours
Note
for the ask game: 🧡🖤💚
🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?
Until I see definitive proof that Ludinus is in fact as old as he wants people to believe he is, I will not believe it. I don't even really have an opinion on how old he is; I just don't think he's as old as he tries to suggest. And lest it be said that I am playing favorites, the thing about Ludinus is that he talks the way Essek talks in 91—and there are a lot of things Essek says at that dinner that I take with a good heaping of salt. It's this sense that they're talking around things that they would rather people not question; they're both very skilled at talking around things in a way where they aren't outright lying, but they'd rather you not think too hard about it because there's shit they're not saying. To be clear I also won't be mad if there does turn out to be some evidence in canon that he is that old, but thus far, there is nothing definitive, and I do not take the word of unreliable NPCs at face value.
🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?
I don't think this is really an unpopular opinion at this point, but Jester. Nice =/= good. I don't think she's evil, by any means! But her morality is a lot more complex than it's given credit for and I think it's one of the things that is most interesting about her. I'd actually consider her largely amoral; it's just not really an axis of consideration that she worries about. She doesn't want people to hurt her or her friends and she doesn't want something to destroy the world, but otherwise she doesn't really care much about what someone's morality is. "Just don't be evil to me" is an incredible sentiment for a reason. She cares more that Essek said they were his friends than the fact that he's the traitor they've been looking for. Ludinus is so insignificant to her despite his literally world-spanning evil plots that she has basically forgotten him six years later, even though two members of her friend group have spent the last six years trying to pin him down. Jester is hilariously amoral and I love that for her.
💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?
[cracks knuckles] OKAY, this is where I've got receipts, because hooo boy do I have an opinion and I will be proving it.
Essek does not have an opinion on the Prime Deities. He does not really have much of an opinion on religion. He actually does not by the end of the campaign have any real issue with the Luxon, and frankly he primarily expressed issue with the Dynasty's worship because, until he got to Aeor, he wasn't certain that the Luxon was a real entity at all—which he contrasts against the Prime Deities, in fact!—and he seems to believe there is compelling evidence in Aeor that categorically disproves his hypothesis that the beacons are simply constructed Age of Arcanum devices.
Originally he is mostly concerned that the Luxon religion is used as a "crutch" which is "distracting them from what other good things they could do with the time and focus". He does specify that any religion can be used as such, but he only remarks upon the one he knows. His theory about the beacons, as of episode 91, is that they may be "artifacts designed in the Age of Arcanum that have been misread" that could be put to even further use.
He also does parrot the Dynasty party line in their first meeting about the Luxon being "the basis of how we've been able to free ourselves from the binds of the lineage the Betrayer Gods left for us", and while I do not take him at face value here (see the above commentary about unreliable NPCs), I doubt the truth of this statement is lost on him, considering his familial connections to Bazzoxan, which I can only imagine would not exactly endear one to the Betrayers, though this is only conjecture. If we do care to take him at his word here, it's not unreasonable, since he obviously has a lot more interest in the power offered by the beacons than anything else.
With all that being said, his tune on the Luxon itself has at least changed by the time they get to Aeor. He discusses iconography found in Aeor and when prompted by the Nein about whether the beacons were created by mortals, says, "I do not believe that they are made by anyone but the Luxon. They are of the Luxon. But they've been around since the Luxon's been in Exandria, which is the beginning."
So we started with him largely apathetic to religion, uncertain if this god was real, and by the time we circle back to him, he has now sided fairly definitively with the fact that the Luxon is an entity that has been around since at least the Founding. (For those keeping track at home, this is longer than Predathos has been around. In the Dynasty's creation myth, it may also have been around before the Prime Deities arrived, which is technically not incompatible with the creation myth of Exandria at large, but I digress.) Like most of Exandria, and as is perfectly reasonable for both his culture and his region, he probably doesn't have any love for the Betrayer Gods, but doesn't express much opinion if any on the Prime Deities. He has no time for religion, but frankly, he doesn't have time for much except for his own research, so it's hard to really ascribe any noted contempt to that.
Like, look, I've written plenty of religious trauma Essek fic, and I don't doubt that that element of it exists, but overall, in terms of canonical statements, it's pretty tame.
With that being said, I do want to fast forward a bit to draw attention to something else. Because I actually do think he ends the campaign with some measure of respect for, at the very least, the Wildmother.
In 140 after the Raise Dead fails, he talks briefly with Fjord about the unfairness of it. Fjord passively directs him to "if you were to ask my wise friend Caduceus..." Immediately after this exchange, Essek challenges Caleb to not accept defeat, and admits he wishes there was more that he or any of them could do, but concedes that, "Unfortunately, this type of magic is beyond my purview."
Immediately after this exchange, Caduceus asks for divine intervention.
Of course, he then spends several weeks gardening in a temple to the Wildmother, and seems to find some genuine clarity and perspective there, but I think this alone is enough to argue that, for a person as driven by empirical evidence as Essek, this sequence of events in 140 would be plenty to earn a wizard's respect.
So my formal belief is that Essek is not in fact anti-god or anti-religion, let alone against the Prime Deities. My opinion is that it's very easy to imagine him on his post-campaign travels leaving a small offering at any shrine of Melora he might pass, not out of actual worship but as a sign of respect.
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bestworstcase · 22 hours
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option 1: tai’s guarding the crown of choice.
pros:
a legitimately important task that recontextualizes his ongoing decision to remain on patch as a personal sacrifice he makes for the greater good.
ozpin would pick the guy named for the god of light to be the gatekeeper of choice, huh.
if any parent in this story is meant to die, it’s him, and narratively this is the most intuitive way to do it.
cons:
realistically, what can tai do to prevent salem / cinder / summer from accessing the vault if they find it? if he’s the gatekeeper, staying on patch alone after everyone else evacuates achieves nothing except, ah, signaling to the enemy that the real vault is under signal academy. bad plan.
it means oz is breaking his promise to be honest and forthcoming, undermining his character growth for the sake of ‘surprising’ the audience with the most obvious answer.
means qrow has either been kept in the dark (see prev point) or he’s also deliberately hiding this information from his nieces after they asked him outright if he knew where tai is; this is so far afield for his character as to border on character assassination, and likewise undermines his positive growth since v7.
honestly makes both yang and ruby seem kind of stupid. they know the crown is hidden somewhere near beacon, that ozpin did something to protect it differently from the others, and that their father hasn’t left patch. ruby was sharp enough to guess that long memory might be a relic hidden in plain sight; yang is just as smart, and she knows tai had “some things” to look after on patch. are we expected to believe that “hey, is dad guarding the relic?” somehow hasn’t occurred to either of them?
tai harbors a whole lot of resentment toward ozpin, and based on qrow kicking him out of ruby’s bedroom to drip-feed her hints on where to go next, he seems to have been on the outer perimeter of the inner circle. why would oz entrust him with the relic’s safety?
glynda—ozpin’s scrupulously loyal second-in-command whose emblem is a crown and whose semblance puts her on par with a maiden—is a far more narratively plausible vault-guardian than tai, and the “sun dragon” makes a damn good red herring.
if he’s guarding the vault, he dies. sorry. but the point of putting the father of 2/4 protagonists in between the two main villains and the thing they want most (choice) is so they can kill him to get it, increasing tension and raising the emotional stakes of negotiating peace. to be clear, rwby is willing to Go There, but i think it’s an unsatisfactory way to close out the rose xiao long family arc.
option 2: survivors trapped under mountain glenn, and tai is taking point.
pros:
a genuinely important, worthwhile thing for him to be doing—even more so than guarding the crown. likely sets up a resolution for him in the vein of “you can be a good huntsman or a good father, and tai picked being a huntsman,” which is an elegant way to balance his contradictions.
gives him meaningful stuff to do in v10; for example, one stealthy huntsman with a bullhead could slip in and out of mountain glenn to get a few dozen people out at a time, and/or run supplies and messages between the kingdoms.
we get to see zwei back in action around mountain glenn :)
introduces a natural segue from playing defense in vacuo to mounting a counteroffensive against beacon as tai’s work clarifies the situation in vale.
easily the most 'heroic' direction for him without contorting the story to arbitrarily lionize tai: he’s a scout preparing the stage for the heroes to take the fight to salem, making him the good counterpart to watts.
cons:
makes no sense to keep it a secret. the emotional beats of B4 can still happen if the girls know this is what tai’s doing: instead of “do you… wonder why he’s not here? i know qrow said he’s on assignment, but what’s more important than here?” yang says “do you… wish he were here? with us? i know qrow said he’s looking for survivors, but how many of them can there really be by now? we need all the help we can get,” and ruby says “maybe we don’t have the full picture” as in maybe dad knows something we don’t and that’s why he hasn’t given up yet. the emotion is the same, and the big "they’re hiding in mountain glenn" reveal is hinted without spoiling.
leaves hanging the narrative thread of what tai has been doing since the fall of beacon, because the “some things” he was dealing with in v4 obviously wasn’t this.
option 3: tai is dead.
pros:
explains the apparent secrecy; qrow knows tai was away “on assignment” (i.e., had taken a huntsman contract that brought him out of the kingdom) at the time salem attacked vale, so he is missing but not yet presumed dead.
might reopen the mystery box of summer’s last mission through the real-deal “left on a mission and never came back” echo.
cons:
raven would know.
it’s a cheap, narratively unsatisfying twist that fails to deliver on the bread crumbs set up in v2-3 (tai starts going on missions again) and v4 (“some things”), and also undermines any serious emotional resolution with regard to yang and ruby’s complex relationships with tai.
option 4: summer’s working with salem, and tai is trying to convince her to come back.
pros:
“some things” being his presumed-dead wife who left him to join the enemy and with whom tai is now having an affair or otherwise hoping to coax back to the heroic side through the power of love whilst also keeping his mouth shut about her being a) still alive and b) a traitor is OBJECTIVELY the funniest answer.
brings forward and interrogates the way tai’s romantic grief informs the choices he makes as a parent: from hiding raven and then refusing to talk about her with yang, to shutting down when he lost summer and letting his five-year-old pick up the pieces, to discovering and then keeping summer’s secrets for the sake of some faint hope that she might finally come back to him.
cogent with the Dead (Absent) Mother / Neglectful Father / Evil Stepmother fairytale paradigm rwby deconstructs with raven, tai, and summer; the father chooses the stepmother over his children.
raises the emotional stakes of the war for summer through direct confrontation with the life she left behind, creating narrative opportunities to develop her character (is she still in love with tai? how does she feel about being his first priority, over their children? does she resent that he has her on this pedestal even now?) and apply pressure to her relationships with salem and cinder (do they know? is summer keeping her communication with him a secret, too? or is he an “asset” she’s using for salem’s benefit?).
consequently, raises the momentum of the narrative toward negotiation with salem; tai still has the coalition’s trust, however strained his personal relationships may be. summer is the obvious ambassador for salem’s side of the war, but she’s also the traitor who needs someone to vouch for her good intentions.
the secrecy needs no explanation: just as summer’s last mission was a summer secret, tai’s "assignment" is a taiyang secret and the girls know everything that oz and qrow do, because all of them have been left in the dark. raven might know, and she has the means to find if she doesn’t, but tai’s whereabouts are entangled with what raven knows about summer, so she can’t explain where tai is or why until she reveals her deep dark secrets about what happened between her and summer that night.
foreshadowing is solid: tai starts to go on "missions" again in v2, after the inner circle becomes aware that salem has infiltrated beacon and just before the breach downtown. when ruby visits summer’s grave in v3, she says "[dad] told me he’s going to be on some mission soon! i think he misses adventuring with you." he’s got to "look after some things" (but he isn’t talking about yang, because he stays home after she leaves). and then with B4 we have ruby echoing what the blacksmith taught her about summer in relation to tai, "maybe we don’t have the full picture?"
juicy
cons:
???
dependent on the unconfirmed theory that summer is working for salem as herself, not some unrecognizable enslaved monster, but i am as confident in that as i was about salem going to vale next and we all know how that turned out :)
taking their mom was not enough salem had to go for the full set APPARENTLY
option 5: secret fifth thing
pros:
???
cons:
???
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lesbianphan · 10 hours
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I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.
And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.
After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.
Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.
I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.
I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.
Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.
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samgirl98 · 22 hours
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Orion Called Cepheus 2/2
Prev
They had come in the Batmobile.
Jazz was tense as Batman drove toward Gotham; Robin sat by him in the passenger seat. He would turn his head frequently to look at Danny. Jazz squeezed Danny’s hand hard. She couldn’t believe Danny would go behind her back and call someone else who knew nothing about his current situation.
She couldn’t believe her baby brother would want to leave her for his biological family. Jazz glared at her younger brother from time to time.
He looked away guiltily each time.
Danny was doing this for her. Jazz deserved to have a normal life. To go to university. She shouldn’t have to be on the run with him. She didn’t need him messing up her life.
The trip to Gotham was silent.
Jazz didn’t even raise her eyebrow when a secret passage was opened randomly at a back alley. Damned rich people. She held on to Danny’s small hand as they exited the Batmobile. She ignored Batman and Robin and looked around the cave. People were sitting by a huge computer.
Everyone stared at Jazz and Danny as they got out of the car. Jazz got in front of her brother to shield him from their eyes.
A man in a black suit with a blue bird turning into blue stripes on his arms got up. She may not know all the Gotham vigilantes, but she recognized Nightwing. He had an easy smile, probably trying to make her feel more at ease.
It didn’t work.
“Hi, I’m Nightwing. Nice to meet you and Danny.”
Jazz didn't shake Nightwing's hand. After a few seconds, Nightwing’s hand fell to his side, and his smile became a little strained.
“Right, well, welcome to the Batcave.”
Nightwing’s welcome echoed throughout the cave.
Jazz ignored the people in the cave and took her brother’s hand.
“So, now what,” she asked.
There was no way in the Infinite Realms she would let some fruit loops take her younger brother away from her. She had failed him once and wouldn’t do it again.
She felt a tug and looked down at Danny.
“Jazz, can I talk with Damian? I’ll be right back.”
“No,” she wanted to scream, “you’re staying with me!”
“I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
I’ll be here if anyone tries anything.
The silence got louder somehow the fainter Danny and Damian’s footsteps got.
“You’re not taking my little brother from me,” was the first thing she said. “You’re all strangers. I won’t let you take him away from me. He’s all I have!”
Jazz clenched her fists, ready to fight if she had to. She would take Danny out of the cave, kicking and screaming.
Batman put a gloved hand on her shoulder.
“We would never pull you two apart,” he said. His mask was off, and Jazz could see the sincerity in his eyes.
She couldn’t help it. She broke down crying.
Damian stared into the distance as his younger (now truly younger) twin brother told his story.
Damian tightened his hold on his sword’s hilt. He wanted to hunt down the Fenton’s and strike them down. For the first time in a long time, he wished he didn’t follow his father’s rules.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner, akhi? You knew I was Robin. We could’ve been reunited long ago; we could’ve been heroes together.”
“I didn’t want to bother you or father. And—and I was being selfish. I loved being in an environment where I didn’t have to fight to the death, where I didn’t have to kill. I’m sorry for messaging you now, but I need help…”
Damian hugged Danny, “Don’t apologize for calling me. I’m glad you did.”
“I want to be safe,” Danny sobbed, his little fists clenched, “I want Jazz to be safe.”
“I failed you the first time; I won’t fail you again, Cepheus.”
When the twins got back, Danny noticed Jazz’s red-rimmed eyes.
“Jazz, what’s wrong?”
“I won’t lose you, little brother. I refuse.”
“Jazz, you’ll always be my big sister,” Danny said, “but you deserve to live your life. Go to university, get your PhD. You shouldn’t put your life on hold for me.”
“You’re my little brother, and I will always put you above everything else.”
“That may be true, but you shouldn’t have to. Besides, with my father’s help I should be able to return to my real age. I hope.”
Damian cleared his throat.
“I am grateful for what you have done for Danyal. I will not seek to take over your role, but thank you. Father, my siblings, and I can care for Danyal from everything that would harm him. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
Jazz sniffed and took hold of Danny’s hands.
“Besides,” Bruce started, “there’s more than enough space here. You can stay for as long as you want. I can protect you and Danny from your parents. You don’t have to run anymore.”
Danny squeezed Jazz’s hand.
“I’m sorry for calling them without saying anything first, but Jazz, you deserve to live your life, too.”
Jazz looked at Danny’s young face and then at Bruce’s sincere expression.
“Thank you, I would like that,” she said while hugging Danny. Nothing would separate her from her brother.
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tenthousandyearsx · 2 days
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Kaveh: Hmph, whatever, it doesn't take a genius to guess what you've been up to… You were investigating Sachin, weren't you? It was obvious from your notes. However, I don't believe his research alone would've been enough to pique your interest. His way of doing things is disturbing, while you… Well, to be fair, your philosophy disgusts me too, but you and Sachin are nothing alike. I don't imagine your views intersect at all. Egoism and nihilism are not the same thing. Alhaitham: My personal interest aside, Sachin's legacy is not entirely meaningless — he conducted experiments on a great scale, and left his findings behind. Also, thanks for the compliment. But I'm actually just passing through — I didn't come here for the conversation. Well, not this one at least. Kaveh: What do you mean? What topic of conversation could be more sacred among scholars than the exploration of differing philosophies? Alhaitham: Well, based on what I've learned, Sachin and his "disturbing way of doing things" — as you put it — is very likely to have met your father twenty years ago.
Kaveh: …What did you say? Wait, so… No, surely that doesn't mean… Hah. So that's why he thought I looked familiar. My father must've gone into the desert due to his influence… Alhaitham: I'm afraid so. Kaveh: … Good thing I shattered that diadem. From now on… nothing like that will ever have to happen again. Alhaitham: The boundaries of knowledge are ever-expanding. Someone else will inevitably pick up the same line of research one day, and Vahumana regards it as a reasonable research direction. Kaveh: Oh, not this again… Even if you're right, and people are bound to fall into the same intellectual traps, things won't necessarily go the same way again next time. You have to admit that the actions of one individual don't always predict the behavior of the group, and vice-versa. Take Sachin, for instance. He's quite an anomaly. Alhaitham: And so is the one who stopped him — you. Conflicts of this nature are indeed exceptional, but it will occur again in the future. You said it yourself — the actions of one individual cannot predict the behavior of a whole group. You know that not everyone would have chosen as you did. Kaveh: …Even so, I stand by my views. You can forget about trying to convince me. Alhaitham: That's fine. We've been arguing over this for years, and I don't hold any hope of you understanding. The issue we're debating has long since moved on from who's right and who's wrong. Kaveh: …Thanks for letting me know all this. Alhaitham: What? Kaveh: I said, thanks for letting me know. Hey! Stop acting like you didn't hear me! You're doing this on purpose, aren't you!? Alhaitham: They say that earnest thanks should be given thrice, so… One more time, please. (x)
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scar-lie · 2 days
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Omega Pt. 13 {Natasha}
Summary : Talking and asking Natasha are hard enough but feeling rejected are even disappointing
Pairing : Alpha ! Natasha Romanoff x Omega ! Reader
Warning : Nothing other than feeling hurt
Word count : 1.596
{OMEGA PT. 12} {OMEGA PT. 13} {OMEGA PT. 14}
No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know
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You're standing in front of Natasha's room, knocking, and when the door opened, you smiled at her, but she just got out of the way so you could come in.
“Sorry, I lost track of time playing with them, but don't worry, they are clean and ready to pick up.” Natasha has had the pups for hours, and she was supposed to bring them back an hour ago for bedtime, but she was just so lost on them that she lost track of time.
“It's ok, actually, uhm...” You shyly shift on your spot, getting nervous about what you're going to ask because, since the talk three days ago, she has tried to avoid the subject and you as much as possible.
“Can we sleep here? ”The question makes her tense and look up at you, shocked and analyzing you, so you quickly look down, knowing asking something like this to the alpha after rejection might not go well.
“I can take the corner, or we if you don't want to sleep next to them,” you fidget the hem of your shirt, getting nervous and expecting her to reject the offer, because for the past 3 weeks all you wanted was to talk to her or be near her, and for James, he put distance between you two because, first, he knows the alpha you want is talk to her or be near her, and for James, he put distance between you two because first, he knows the alpha you want is Natasha, and Natasha wants you, so he distance himself to not make things more complicated than they are, and second, he already found her omega.
“What? ”You grip the hem of your shirt, accepting her response as a rejection, so you sigh and look up at her with a small smile.
“Nothing; can I have them now? .... It's already past their bedtime.” You didn't wait for her answer; you quickly took two to put them in your room and came back to another one.
You're so embarrassed that you almost run just so you could leave right away from her gaze, and when you're in your safe place, your room with your pups, you quickly shut the door, sigh heavily, and start to get ready for the night.
But 5 minutes after you lay down with your pups, there's three soft knocks on your door, making you frown. You're not expecting anyone at this time, not unless Wanda or Yelena need something.
But before you could stand up or shout to the other person on the other side to come in, the door squeaked, making you nervous and scared until it was slightly open. Then Natasha's face was shown, making you sigh in relief.
“Hey, sorry for bothering you at this time, but...” Natasha clears her throat while you sit up on the bed and look at her.
“Can I sleep here instead? "I could take the floor or the couch." You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Natasha has come to you for the first time in 3 days and is asking something so cutely that makes you smile a little, but Natasha feels the opposite; she feels nervous and scared, not sure if this is right that it makes her feel small.
“Or not, it's ok, I’m just going to go back to my room.” Natasha lowered her head, ready to close your door, but you quickly took the comforter off of you.
“No, Nat, wait.” You took her arm and lightly tugged her, so she looked back and looked at your face with a small smile.
“You can sleep here.” You open the door widely and move to the side for her to come in. She smiles at you and holds her pillow tightly, then comes in.
“Thanks, I’ll just take the floor.” You shake your head at her and then take her hand.
“No, you can sleep with us in the bed; there's plenty of room anyway,” you softly said, and when you realize that you're holding her hand, you quickly look away from her but never take your hands off of her.
“It's ok, I’m just going to take the floor, I insist.” You nodded at her and retrieved your hand. Honestly, it's kind of hurtful that she refused to sleep with you and the pups, but you understand her and the situation. I mean, you two weren't mates anymore. 
"Ok,” you go. Take your thickest blanket for her to lay down on and use as a mattress, then a blanket and another pillow for her to use, to at least make her feel comfortable on the cold, hard floor of your room.
You plan to lay it beside you, but when you see her walk to the end of the bed, you quickly go lay it where she is.
“Tell me if you need another thick blanket to lay down or if it's uncomfortable.” You then put the pillow down and stand at the bed, giving her space to get comfortable.
“Thanks, have a good night.” You just give her a small smile and go back to lay down beside your pups.
But the thing is, even if you try hard to sleep, you just can't. The urge to lay beside her makes it so hard to control yourself to just lay beside her and her scents that's lingering in the air of your room. It took every single fiber of your being to not just get up and be with her.
So when the clock hits 2 a.m. You sit up and set your bed to have a barrier around the edges so the pups won't fall down, then you go stand before Natasha with your pillow. You're contemplating whether this is a good decision or not.
“Just do it,” you sigh and slowly crowl next to her, then put your pillow beside hers and slowly lift her right arm since she's lying on her left, then slowly and carefully scoot in the space in front of her, your back facing her front, then gently lay her arm around your waist.
But you didn't expect her to shift, then tighten her hold on you, then pull you closer, cuddling with you while she nuzzles her face in the back of your head, smelling your hair and scent. Your heart flutters and beats faster, happy that she still finds your scent pleasant and is still looking for it, but that’s quickly taken away from you when Natasha sits up and scoots away from you.
“You shouldn’t be here sleeping; you should be in your bed.” You sit up and turn around her, disappointed and hurt while clenching your hands on the comforter in your lap.
“I know, I just want to sleep with you,” you mumble, but she could still hear it. You then bite your lower lips, getting nervous and shy around her.
“Just go back to bed and sleep, please.” You look down, and Natasha is getting guilty by the second, but she doesn’t want you to get a cough or get your back hurt.
“You really don’t want me to at least sleep next to you, do you? ”You chew your bottom lips and play with the comforter while nervously waiting for her response, but that didn’t come; the room became silent once again, and the agonizing silence is enough for you to know what her possible answer is.
But when Natasha was going to answer you, one of the pups started to cry, so you quickly took your pillow, left the comfort of Natasha’s makeshift bed on the floor, and went to tend to the needs of your pups.
“You should go back to sleep; I’ll deal with them,” you said to her. You took him in your arms and lulled him to sleep. You're thankful that he cried because you didn’t know how to get out of that situation, but Natasha didn't. She wants to cradle you in her arms and tell you that she craves your cuddles and touch, but when she notices the distance in your voice and presence, her shoulders slump, and she just lays down to try to get at least a little bit of sleep.
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Natasha woke up earlier than you or the pups, and because she didn’t want to wake you up, she neatly folded the comforters and placed them on the couch with the pillow you gave her. She then quietly left the room, going to her room to do her morning routine before going down to take breakfast and go to the gym.
You, on the other hand, are already awake when she’s halfway through folding the comforter, but you pretend to be asleep to escape the embarrassment that’s lingering in yourself, maybe hoping that she at least gives you a forehead kiss or the pups, but that didn’t come, making you sad and disappointed first thing in the morning, so you just sadly smile at yourself while admiring the face of your daughter that’s starting to stir awake, so you scoop her in your arm with the biggest smile you could pull off.
“Hi! Good morning, my little princess. How was your sleep? Was it good? Hmm? ”She coos and giggles a little, pulling a genuine smile out of you and making you happy to see her out of a life-and-death situation, but soon the two boys start to wake up, so your morning turns pretty quickly from sad and disappointed to happy and grateful to wake up another day with your pups.
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jeansplaytoy · 2 days
Text
𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥
part seven.
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i’m back and better than ever (kind of).
no proof read yet , smut , sexual references , cursing , arguing , angst(?) , everything that’s always in my stories .
part six here | part eight here
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unbearable. to sit in a car all night when all you wanted to do was have a good time? yeah, unbearable.
“this is so fuckin’ stupid.” you mumbled, crossing your arms and leaning on the door of the car. “and you’re childish. all you do is fight, but you want freedom.” he shook his head and scrolled on his phone.
“i’m sober.”
“and im sitting in the backseat.”
“you’re in the front.”
“and you’re not sober.”
you squinted at connie. you couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you stayed quiet. for like… 5 seconds. “can you take me home?” you asked. connie looked at you in the dark rear view mirror. “you sure? don’t be complaining when you get there either.” he mumbled, focusing back on his phone.
“i wanna go drinkkkk.” you whined, tapping the seat.
“no. you can’t control yo emotions when you drink.” connie shook his head. “and you not finna be in there gettin drunker than you already is.”
“okay i just wanna have a good time.” you rolled your eyes lazily. “you expect me to believe that shit?” he looked back at you. “you can watch me. i won’t do nothing. i promise.” you raised your eyebrows with a small smile.
connie’s lip twitched and he sighed. “we not gon be here for more than bout an hour. you better do whatever you wanna do, then we leaving. ight?”
you nodded with a smile while connie unlocked the door for you after he got out. you grabbed your heels and slipped them back on, nearly tipping over when you stood up. before you could roam off anywhere, he grabbed your hand, letting you lead him to where you were going.
“do we really have to hold hands?” you mumbled, walking beside him with a bored expression. “nah.” connie said, letting go of your hand and putting his arm around your shoulder.
you looked up at him before sighing inaudibly and walking back in the house. everyone looked at you, seems like there were more people there than the first time, but you didn’t care.
when connie looked to the side, he saw that same girl in the corner. seemed like she was still mad. “let’s go upstairs real quick.” he mumbled in your ear. you looked at him with a confused expression. “for what?”
“youn need to be getting in no more trouble down here.”
you stopped in your tracks and crossed your arms. “is that the real reason you wanna take me upstairs?” you squinted. your thoughts from earlier started to come back to you. he wasn’t just gonna fuck you whenever he wanted.
connie squinted. “yes. now come on.” he looked around, noticing the girl unknowingly getting closer to you two. before you could argue, he dragged you up the stairs, nearly tripping you on the way up.
“i don’t wanna go upstairs i wanna drink.” you held on to the side of the stairs. connie smacked his lips. “do you wanna getcho ass whooped y/n?” he looked back at you, opening the door to the same room you two first got… physical in.
“no, cus a bitch can’t beat me regardless-”
you didn’t even get to finish your sentence. connie closed the door behind the both of you and locked it, standing against it.
“aw hell naw. you think i’m finna let you get in my panties again?” you frowned. “let me out.”
“no.”
“connie, i am so deadass i’m not bouda sit here and let you kiss me and touch me and do whatever the fuck we did whenever you feel like it, then ignore me for another one or two weeks.”
connie threw his head back against the door. “man… shut up.”
“shut up because i ain’t finna let you use me-“
“bruh what the fuck is you talkin bout?” you could hear the irritation in connie’s voice, and the sober corner of you told you to just shut up, but you were still drunk.
“what i just said. you’re not about to fuck me again and then leave-“
“y/n ion wanna fuck you.”
“yes you-“
“no—the fuck i don’t. i’m tryna keep yo ass outta trouble, cause you too fucking stupid to realize every time you go out you be in some bullshit-“ you opened your mouth to say something back. “nah, listen. you too stupid to realize you always in some shit, and if you get hurt you gon be complaining like you always is.”
now he was actually starting to get mad. you wouldn’t shut up.
“let me out.”
you tried to push past connie, but obviously he’s way stronger than you. “let me out!”
that’s when you felt him grab your arm and push you back on the bed. “that’s yo fucking problem, you don’t listen. you so fuckin childish, people tryna be here to have a good time and yo ole stupid ass and that bitch steady fighting. don’t nobody wanna hear that shit all the time.” he started raising his voice. “sit the fuck down. ion wanna fuck you, ion care shit bout that. you steady sittin here tryna argue, you don’t fuckin listen.”
you stared at him.
“ain’t no reason i gotta sit here and really treat yo ass like a big ass baby cause you can’t control yo liquor. i’m tired of that shit bruh.”
you didn’t even feel like talkin back, cause he wasn’t gon listen. you failed to realize that your face was starting to get wet because of the tears rolling down your cheeks until you sniffed and huffed.
connie backed up and stared down at you, bitting his top lip. you sniffed even more and hummed, wiping your tears, some of your mascara from your bottom lash coming off with it, along with your eyeliner.
you sat back on the bed and looked at connie again. you couldn’t really read his face, not only because of your teary eyes, but because of his blank expression.
until you blinked once more, you noticed he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. he was staring at the ceiling.
you swallowed and moved to the end of the bed to take off your heels. surprisingly, you continued to cry. you didn’t even know it. connie then looked down at you again.
you then stood up, now standing in front of him.
he sighed and wiped the stained marks from your cheeks and eyes. with one hand in his pocket, and the other on your face, he licked his lips.
out of all the shit you talked, and the things you said, you looked at his lips. you bit yours and trailed your hands up his shoulders and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in. he knew it was probably wrong to be intimate right after you said he was using you, but shit.
he wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his nose in your neck.
you did the same. except when you did it, you couldn’t help but put your lips on his neck. not even a kiss. you just needed to feel it.
eventually, which wasn’t long, promise, you softly kissed connie’s neck. you moved your hands to the back of his head, ignoring the red lipstick stains you left on his neck, and started to kiss up his jaw.
you pulled back and moved back to the bed, holding his hand to lead him with you. he moved on top of you, making you automatically slightly open your legs to make space for him.
as you laid back, he saw a single tear drip down the corner of your eye. wiping it before it reached your ear, he kissed your cheek. under your eyes—both of them, and then kissed your lips.
he barely gave you time to kiss back as you closed your eyes and rubbed his back. he kissed down your face, neck, chest.
“you know ian wanna make you cry ma.” he said in between kisses.
you didn’t say nothing back, but you heard him. “you know i care about you.” he whispered, starting to give you hickeys on your neck and chest. “i just…” he kissed your lips again. “ion wanna get attached.” he sat up, pulling your legs closer to him.
he massaged your thighs and moved his hands up to your waist. then he moved from your waist to your chest, undoing your outfit down the middle before helping you get it halfway off. he leaned down to kiss your stomach, glancing up at you with every few kisses, just to see that look on your face.
“you just…” he moved back up to your face, spreading your legs further as you started to close them. “you be pissin me off sometimes.” he moved his right hand down to your panties, which were already almost soaked.
he rubbed his middle finger along your panties, making you arch your back, only a little. connie stared at you with bored eyes, but he definitely wasn’t bored. he then licked his lips, moving his hand up, then down in your panties.
“you love lace. ima remember that.” he said, moving his finger along your wet folds. you softly moaned, closing your eyes and biting your lip.
he moved his hand away from your pussy and licked his middle finger, making you open your eyes. the look on your face just drove him crazy. the way your brows furrowed when what you wanted to happen, didn’t happen. yet.
he put his thumb in front of your lips as you looked him in his eyes. “suck it.” he mumbled. you did as he said. what else could you do? “good girl.” he muttered, moving his hand back down inside your panties.
he put his thumb on your clit, softly pressing down on it, making you moan a little louder than you did at first.
he slowly started to rub your clit, sticking his middle finger inside of you at the same time. “ah, fuck…” you moaned softly as connie started to kiss you again. he was moving his fingers so slow, but it felt so good.
he slipped his tongue in your mouth as you kissed, slightly moving his hips against his own hand as he slowly fingered you.
your kisses started to get sloppier by the second. “you like that?” he whispered against your lips. you quickly nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck like before, moving your hips against his fingers.
that’s when he pulled his fingers out of you, unexpectedly sticking them in your mouth. as you tasted yourself, connie pulled your outfit off the rest of the way, undoing his pants with his other hand.
you didn’t even realize he was starting to slip his self into you, until he put the tip in. he moved his hand from your mouth to your neck, rubbing it with his thumb.
you slightly whimpered.
“it’s too big, pa. it won’t fit…” you furrowed your eyebrows.
“if wasn’t too big a few weeks ago.” he replied, stretching you out more and more by the second. you painfully moaned as connie’s thumb started to rub your cheek.
“you good… shit..” connie threw his head back for a second before moving closer to you. you grabbed his shirt to pull him closer to you. while he moved closer, he grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers, pinning them down to the bed as he started to move his hips.
“yeah..” you looked up at him. his eyes were closed at first. a few thrusts in, he looked at you. you could barely function because of the pleasure, it felt like it was all over your body. it’s been so long.
as he looked into your eyes, making noises he didn’t even know he was making, the same with you, you felt your eyes start to water again. you slowly started nodding. you didn’t know why. you just did.
connie leaned down to kiss you again, holding on to your hand tighter, thrusting at the same pace but harder. “fuck, connie..” you moaned softly. “i hate you so much…” you moaned again, making connie close his eyes and groan a little.
“i’m sorry.” he muttered, putting his face in your neck again. he could barely hold your hand. he tried to, but it felt like he was losing all his strength.
your eyes rolled to the back of you head and you moved your hips with connie’s. “you know ion be meaning to do you like that…” he said against your neck as he started kissing it again.
“uh huh..” you said softly. you didn’t know if you were replying to him or reacting to the feeling he was giving you. he moved his hand to your neck, slowly starting to thrust faster, making you moan louder by the second. “i like you for real…” he softly moaned against your ear.
“i…” you couldn’t get your words out clearly because of the grip he had on your neck. connie moved away from your ear and looked down at you, his grip on your neck didn’t change at all. you looked up at him with glossy eyes.
you held his wrist, feeling yourself come closer and closer to an orgasm. “i… like you too.” you mumbled enough for connie to hear. connie furrowed his eyebrows, nodding slowly before groaning softly.
you moaned one more time before finally feeling yourself finish with him, both of you out of breath as he let go of your neck.
connie leaned down to rest his head on your chest for a few seconds as you started to rub his back and head.
he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked up at you.
there wasn’t anything else to say. seemed like it.
he got off of you and fixed his self, letting you put your jump suit back on. “you ready to go?” he mumbled, looking at his neck in the mirror as you put your heels back on.
you silently nodded.
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allllium · 21 hours
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Heyaaa, I have a request! If it's not too much trouble, have you listened to too sweet by Hozier.. that song with the tf 141 boys (if it could be Ghost, it would be great!!)
Thanks in advance!!! And it's perfectly fine if you don't wanna!
~ I'm really sorry this took so long, I have not been feeling great but here it is. I hope you like this because honestly I am terrible at comprehending songs but I think this fits pretty well :)
~ If you're not happy with this for any reason please let me know and I will happily redo it with your advice <3
~ Fluff, WC: 1,189
You have a crush on Simon Riley. You know this, and so does everyone else, including him. Despite the very obvious adoration on your part he's never said anything about it.
You honestly have no idea how he feels about you and you're not sure you want to know. You do tons of little things for him and he does things for you, but that's all your relationship entails.
You are both so different it's not like you could ever fit together so perfectly, right?
I take my whiskey neat
“Here you are Lt.” You slide him a drink across the table. He makes a face behind his mask that you now recognize as his scowl. “Don't make that face at me.”
“You can't even see my face,” he replies, in his signature thick accent. “And I don't need you buying me drinks.”
“Well that's too bad 'cause’ I did. Don't tell me you're gonna let good whiskey go to waste.”
His deep brown eyes stare at you for a heavy moment before picking up the drink, lifting his mask just enough to show his cut jaw and full lips.
“Usually this is where I get a thank you.” You taunt him, trying not to let your gaze linger on what you can see of his perfect but slightly messed up face.
“Don't push your luck, Sargent.”
My coffee black…
“Oh dark like your soul, ain't that right Lt.” You gesture towards his black mug of black coffee.
Simon takes a deep breath as he takes in your words, his chest rising and falling in annoyance. He shakes his head silently, apparently not wanting to pleasure you with a response.
“Seriously, how do you drink that?” You put your hand on his perfect arm to push him out of the way of the coffee pot.
“Oh let me guess you take your coffee with a pound of sugar.” He rolls his eyes at you, in more of an attitude than you appreciate.
“Incorrect. I'm sweet enough as it is.” You smile at him while you turn around to stir your drink.
“Maybe a little too sweet don't you think?”
“Only to you.” You mutter under your breath.
…And my bed at three
“Oi Lt, what are you doing up at this hour?” You take amusement at the way this giant of a man jumps slightly at your voice.
“Did you just say oi?” He asks as if he didn't just hear you say it.
“Yes I did, do we need to get your hearing checked?” You make fun of him for the hundredth time that day.
“Why?” His gruff voice cuts through the air.
“I want it on record that I don't appreciate this attitude of yours. And I said "oi” because I'm becoming more like you.”
“I don't say oi.”
“I don't believe you. You sound like you say it.” You shrug and take a seat on the couch next to you.
“What does that mean?” He sits down next to you but he seems like he doesn't want a real answer.
“Your voice.”
“What's wrong with my voice?” This time it seems like he actually wants to know what you think.
“Oh nothing. It's a nice voice but it just gives me oi vibes.” He stares at you like you're crazy.
“I have a nice voice do I?”
“Don't let it get to your head.” You lay your head.on his shoulder.
No one speaks for a while but eventually Simon sits up. “It's three in the morning, we should get to bed.”
“Yeah that's probably smart.” You give him a big smile when you stand up. “Goodnight Lt.”
You're too sweet for me
“And here you are.” You take a dramatic bow as you hand Simon his gift, acting as if you just delivered the most important thing in the world.
“What is this?” He asks with a tone of impatientence.
“A gift.”
“It's not a holiday-” You quickly cut him off.
“Or your birthday I know, but I remember you saying something about it and got it for you”
“How do you know it's not my birthday, I've never told you that.” He pauses for a split second before continuing, “Did you look at my files?”
“That's not important, open your gift.” He shakes his head but opens the bag you've given him.
Quickly, he pulls out a mask just like the one he's currently wearing. A mask you've handmade just for him.
“What is this?” He instantly demands.
“That is what we call a mask sir. I remember you told me about that one having an annoying hole so I thought I'd help you out. Originally I was just gonna patch the hole but then I figured that mask has been through a lot so you deserved a new one.”
He loudly clears his throat. “I hope you know there won't be a gift in return.”
“I don't expect one, simply doing a nice thing.”
“Well thank you Sargent.” You smile at his thanks, feeling how much he means it.
“Anytime.” Is the only word you get in before he runs off.
You're too sweet for me
“You know this is basically our third date.” You randomly blurt out. You're sitting with Simon in a coffee shop off base. You don't know what you were expecting with Simon off base but one thing you never thought about when inviting him out is his absence of the mask.
Obviously wearing it would draw more attention than usual but now you're sitting straight across from the face of the man you're practically fawning over.
“This is not a date.” He defends roughly.
“Yes it is, our first was dinner and second was the bar so that makes this the third.”
“Those weren't dates, just outings between friends.” He runs his eyes everywhere but your face.
“Aww so you admit we're friends.” You can't help but tease. “But I'm being serious Simon. You can't deny it forever.”
“Yes I can.” He fiddles with his drink as you continue your mini interrogation.
“No you can't. I know you like me, Lt. Why won't you say it.”
“You're different.” He begins.
“If you start to say I'm dumb you're getting punched.”
“No! Of course not. You're different from me and I don't know if we would work.”
“Bullshit. Spill it.”
“Fine, you're too sweet.” He spits out as if it was fire coming out.
You can't help the bubbling laugh that spills out your mouth. “Too sweet? What does that even mean?” You ask him, still laughing.
“I don't know. You're too sweet to me, you give me things and you say all the right things and I don't think I could give all that back to you.”
‘I don't want you to give me anything back. I want you to give me you, you're too sweet for me too Lt. Even if it is in a different looking way.” You slide your hand across the table to lay on his. He returns your hold and gives you a smile that is uniquely his. This is all you need.
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Text
VOX'S TURTLENECK IS RED AND KNIT - a fully comprehensive post
STOP BEING IN DENIAL YOU FOOLS. the poll may be over, and red may have won, but some of you still don't understand so here's a consolidation of all my points, if you haven't noticed this discourse is VERY serious and important
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COLOUR
as I've brought up in that godforsaken poll, vox's turtleneck is red because it matches the colour of val's wings
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as you can see, these are both taken from the section of the photo that's under the same shadow
if you want to argue that part of the turtleneck is not the same lighting as val's sleeve
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you can see that comparing vox's turtleneck sleeve which is RIGHT ABOVE val's sleeve and therefore DEFINITELY the same lighting, it's still a similar colour. therefore, vox's turtleneck is definitely a similar colour to val's wings and since we know val's wings are red, vox's turtleneck must also be red.
okay but what if val was ALSO wearing orange?
possible! but also I'd put that as less likely since the wings are PART of his body and more likely didn't change colour
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not to mention it matches up with vox's eyes which we also know are red, yes it's possible that vox ALSO had orange eyes because he is a screen but what are the odds that both vox and val for some reason originally had orange eyes and orange wings respectively then changed to red? it's more likely that they were always red and the photo is just washed out to make it look orange.
however, I do accept people who see all the red stuff as orange because at least you admit the colours match, also admire the dedication to doubling down on orange
THE LIGHTING ON VOX'S TURTLENECK! IT'S CLEARLY YELLOW!
yellow is easily debunked because there are actual yellow things present in the photo we can compare to! gonna be reiterating from a previous post
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see the heart on val's belt? we KNOW that's yellow
now let's go back to our favourite picture
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that's the boy! let's start comparing it
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val's inner left sleeve matches up with the yellow heart! therefore it is also yellow, and unless val is wearing mismatched inner sleeves, this indicates his right inner sleeve is ALSO yellow
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so all of these! they are yellow!
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and we can see, said yellow does not match vox's turtleneck at all, not even when I pick out the lighting on it, it doesn't match the turtleneck in any of the lighting, therefore vox's turtleneck is most DEFINITELY not yellow.
it being red also matches up with vox's current colour palette being blues and reds and it makes sense that he had the same palette back then too.
if you believe vox's eyes and val's wings are both also orange, it could be orange. I can live with that. but it is most likely red.
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okay but what about the stripes?
THERE ARE NO FUCKING STRIPES Y'ALL DRIVE ME INSANE. MORE INSANE THAN YELLOW TRUTHERS.
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THOSE VERTICAL LINES YOU SEE. those are BLACK LINES, which are the OUTLINE, REPRESENTING THE KNITTING PATTERN.
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I SWEAR SOME OF YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW SWEATERS WORK.
but when I colour-pick it it's not black!
my fucking god PLEASE tell me you know how low quality black lines work. time to reiterate more points from my previous posts!
you understand that the outline around val should be black right?
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but would you take a look at that, colour picking it makes it look like just a darker colour of the inner colour. why? BECAUSE IT'S A SMALL PICTURE THAT'S OVERALL IN LOW QUALITY, so the black gets thinned down to hell that you can't even see the black anymore. BUT IT'S STILL A BLACK OUTLINE. THE SAME LOGIC APPLIES TO VOX'S SWEATER
let's use a normal line as an example
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here is a black line
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here is that same black line resized down to a lower quality.
NOTICE HOW IT'S GREY NOW? are we going to insist it was never black now because it's sized down?? NO. IT'S JUST A LOWER QUALITY BLACK LINE THAT LOSES OPACITY AS IT'S SIZED DOWN. THIS IS THE LOGIC I GO BY.
okay but what if they were black vertical stripe--
YOU ARE KILLING ME NO IT IS NOT. IT'S A SWEATER IT MAKES MORE SENSE FOR IT TO BE A KNITTING PATTERN THAN VERTICAL STRIPES. but okay. at least you still see the same thing as me you just... interpret... it differently.
but I swear on god, the black lines represent the KNITTING PATTERN, it makes MUCH more sense for it to be that because it's a sweater.
arguments about orange or yellow going together better with vox's jacket are extremely irrelevant to this argument when 90% of red things in hazbin hotel would probably look better if they weren't red. I'm not arguing that it even looks better! I'm just arguing that it is what it is and you should ACKNOWLEDGE THE TRUTH.
AND THEREFORE. THE STUPID FUCKING TURTLENECK IS RED AND KNIT. I REST MY CASE.
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howi99 · 3 days
Text
Ren: ... Someone is approaching!
JNPRR: *readying their weapons*
...
Tyrian: *jumping from one of the houses* Oh? I see i was expected, wasn't i? *Giggle*
Jaune: *eyes flash to brown* Damn it, just what we needed. A psychopath with too much time on his hands. What are you here for? *Point crocea mors at Tyrian*
Tyrian: Aw~ you want to be the one i play with? Too bad! I'm here for the girl. *Point at Ruby* But... You intrigue me. You seem to know of me?
Jaune: *eyes flashing to blue* I have no idea what you are talking about. I don't know who you are, but i can say that you will regret going against u-
Tyrian: *with a lot of agility, goes on the offense, trying to cut Jaune leg, which he blocks with difficulty* Good~ you know how to use that shield of yours.
Ruby: Jaune! *Shoot at Tyrian, who parries each bullet without too much difficulty* Don't be this impatient little one, i'll be here soon~ *leap to Ruby using Jaune shield as a platform to get himself more momentum* Missed me? *Use multiple attack to try disarming Ruby*
Pyrrha: No you won't! *Use her semblance to remove Tyrian weapons from his hand*
Tyrian: *cackling* You think this will help you? *Dodge Nora's attack* Woah there! Almost got my head!
Nora: *gritting her teeth* That's the idea! *While continuing to put pressure on Tyrian, Ruby uses Electric Dust to boost nora* Take that! *Hit him square in the chest, making him fly through the clocktower*
Pyrrha: You got him?
Tyrian: *maniacally laughing* Oh! That's what they call a homerun! *Dash quickly from the tower, kicking Nora in the guts, breaking her aura*
Ren: NORA! *Goes to her, looking if she is alright*
Tyrian: *shrug* Toys aren't as durable as they used to be i see.
Jaune POV
//Use my power//
Jaune: *blinking* What? Wasn't that-
//concentrate and imagine a gust of wind//
Jaune: *panicking* Who are you? What's going on?
//*sigh* Of all the host why must i have gotten a chatty one that i can't switch place with. You have magic. Trust me, point at your ennemis and imagine a guat of wind. Or fire. Or anything that will hurt him. I'll take charge of the difficult part//
Jaune: Your voice, aren't you-
// yes, it's me, Ozpin. Now stop asking questions and save your friend.//
Jaune: ... *Nod, then concentrate on making a ball of fire*
// By the gods, with how much aura you have, you could almost be a mage.//
Return to the fight
Tyrian: *fighting both Pyrrha and Ren by himself* You are good, but you both are still lacking in technique and bloodlust!
Jaune: *opening his eyes* FIRE!
*a ball of fire around the size of a basketball goes straight to Tyrian face*
Tyrian: *jumping out of the blast trajectory* Well well well! I even found you at the same time!
Jaune: *panting like if he ran 5 miles* That *huff* was *huff* really hard!
// well, i did just wake up. It's difficult to transform aura into magic, you know!? Gee... Anyway, you should dodge//
Jaune: What? *Sees Tyrian stinger going straight for his throat* OH GOD! *Deflect the stinger away clumsily with a shield bash*
Tyrian: *smiling* Now what should i do? Should i take the girl? Or the ghost?
Qrow: *descending from the sky, attacking Tyrian with his scythe* How about neither, pal?
Tyrian: *dodging with a somersault* Hm... Maybe i should get serious? I am disarmed and now the crow has finally shown himself.
Qrow: Kids! Leave the area! I'll take him on!
Ruby: Uncle Qrow!
Qrow: *turning to Ruby* Now!
//He does have a point, you all are keeping him down and it would be wiser to leave for now//
Jaune: *nods* Let's go team! You heard him!
NPR: *nods at Jaune*
Ruby: But he needs our-
Qrow: *still attacking and dodging Tyrian* I can't fight at my best with you here! Go, now!
//He needs to be alone to use his semblance against an enemy//
Jaune: Ruby! Believe in your uncle damn it!
Ruby: ... Fine.
__________
Qrow: *rejoining team JNPRR* He got away. But he shouldn't be going against us for now.
_NPRR: *looking intensely at Qrow*
Jaune: ... Hey, you old sack of feathers, when i was recovering, it didn't come to you it would be nice to tell me i had a ghost in me!?
Qrow: *Wincing* To be fair, i didn't know how to tell you the information.
Nora: And you didn't tell us he could use magic!
Qrow: ... No, that's news to me too.
Jaune: *sigh* the voice in my head is telling me it shouldn't be possible, but with how much aura i have and my semblance-
Ren: You discovered your semblance?
Jaune: *shake his head* Apparently it regenerated my aura so we are assuming here.
Pyrrha: Go on.
Jaune: Well, basically Ozpin can channel his magic through my aura, making it far more potent than it would normally be.
Qrow: ... Does that mean-
Jaune: Before you ask, yes, that apparently makes me like one of the maidens.
________
My first try at putting more action in a scene, though i did cut the fight in the middle since there wasn't going to be much dialogue and i'm not the best at representing a scene, so multiple would be hard af lol.
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funnyjb · 2 days
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About Last Night
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Warnings: language
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(After Bengals game)
It was around 8:30 when you and Joe got home from the game. The Bengals lost. It was their third loss this season in a row. It sucks but you know they are desperate to get a winning streak going and working hard to win a championship.
You threw my boots of and hung my coat in the closet near our entry way. Joe already was downstairs just before you could even take your shoes off. The loss was hitting him hard especially because he knew he could have done better. He quickly got to work on film. You were upstairs alone in the kitchen heating some food up for the both of you.The kitchen lights were the only lights on along with the lamp in the living room. The only noise you heard were the creeks on the floor boards when you walked and the microwave heating up some vegetables and rice. You could hear faint noises from joes film downstairs to. After a couple minutes the food was done and you took it out to put on a plate for Joe and bring it down. You walked down the wooden stairs into the basement and made a right to joes home office. Then knocked on the door that was wide open to let him know you were there.
“Hey, I made some food for you.”- you
Joe just looked at me
I walked over to the coffee table in front of him. He was sitting on the small leather couch you got him a few months ago to make it more comfortable in his office for film watching.
“I’m not hungry.”- joe
You looked at him
“You got to be hungry Joe. You just played a three hour game. You got to put something in your system.”- you said sweetly
“I said I’m not hungry, y/n!”- joe raised his voice
He never raised his voice at you EVER.
You were taken back. You honestly were a little scared. He has never raised his voice. You didn’t know what to do.
“Fine, I will just take it back.”- you said picking up the plate
“Y/n! God, can you move. I can’t see the screen!”- joe raised his voice again
“Excuse me,Joe what is wrong with you. You have never raised your voice at me ever! And it’s rude. I get your frustration about the game but don’t take it out on me. Here take your food back, eat it cold.”- you scoffed
You left the room. As you turned to the stairs tears started rolling down your face. You covered your mouth in shock about what juts happened and trying not to let Joe hear you sob. Walking up the steps and into your kitchen you started sobbing even more. The tiredness started to hit you and you couldn’t believe the interaction you just had with Joe. You put your elbows on the kitchen counter and covered your face with your hands. Trying to control your sobs you breathed in and out.
After about 5 minutes you heard footsteps. Your eyes were red and one last tear streamed down your face. you wiped the tear with your fingers before joe could see you. You decided to act like you were doing something so you got the cloth that was on the counter and started wiping away some stains and crumbs. As you were wiping,Joe walked in. He looked up at you quickly. You didn’t even want to talk to him let alone look at him right now.
“Y/n.”- joe
“Don’t Joe, I’m not in the mood.”- you
“Can we please talk? I’m so so sorry y/n I-” -Joe
“I don’t want to hear it right now Joe!”- you
You looked up at him
His eyes were also a little red. He started crying after you left. He felt horrible for what he just said to you and how it made you feel. He finally composed himself enough to come up and talk with you.
“Just go upstairs and I will meet you there. I’m tired and I want to go to sleep.”- you
“No, I want to talk this out with you. You are my wife and the love of my life. I hate that I made you cry, so we are going to talk.”- joe
“Fine Joe, here it goes. I get it, You’re tired and angry about the way the game turned out. But that is never a reason to take it out on me or anyone you love. Especially when that person is trying to help you. It is so hard Joe seeing you down like this, so hard. I work hard to make sure when you get home you have food on your plate waiting for you, I make sure that your clothes are washed and clean for the next day, and when you are injured I make sure you have everything that you need to stay healthy and not in pain. I love you Joey,so much and I love this life I have with you, but its can be hard at times and I know you know that. It’s annoying when I get home from a tiring day and just want to curl up in bed but I don’t. I want to make sure that you are ok and that you eat after a long day. So I make you food and bring it down to you. But all I get is you raising your voice at me which you never do and you saying “I’m not hungry” and “Y/n! God, can you move. I can’t see the screen.” You know how that fucking sucks after today. I was just trying to taken care of you and I know you know that now but you can’t just raise your voice at someone who loves you and is trying to help you,Ok?”- you
You just stared at Joe waiting for a response.
“I’m sorry y/n. Truly from the bottom of my heart. I know it’s hard for you. I get that it’s tiring and tuff taking care of someone like me. But I should man up and I don’t and I’m sorry. I should have never raised my voice and I seriously have no idea why I did. I would never raise my voice at you and now I did. I saw it made you scared and taken back. I wanted to come up to you right away but I know when you are sad or angry you like to have some time alone. Im so pissed at myself that I made you cry. I love you y/n so much it hurts and I’m so grateful that you take care of me the way you do. I promise to never raise my voice ever!”- joe
He walked over to you and gave you a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso and gave him a tight squeeze. You looked up at him and gave him a kiss on the lips.
“It’s ok Joe, I know you didn’t mean for it to happen.”- you
“No, it’s not ok. I hate that I did it to you. It wasn’t right.”- joe
“Joey, seriously it’s ok! I promise you. I love you Joe with all my heart.”- you
“I love you to,y/n. I will love you for forever and ever.”- joe
He grabbed your cheeks and kissed you.
“Want to go to bed?”- joe
“Yes, please!”- you laughed
Joe laughed along with you as you two walked up the steps to your bedroom.
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loremaster · 14 hours
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all right, let's talk about some rejected* ideas from boba au's chapter 4. (big spoilers ofc)
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yakou, as we know, is a very sad man. secretly plotting to unalive himself for revenge.
but in this au, pucci catches him, right?
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she can't wrap her head around his selfish motivations. sure, his wife was important to him when she was alive, but now she's not, so why is she still important? pucci doesn't think the revenge would be worth the suicide. but yakou is a firm believer in the Core Tenets Of Marriage (and considers seppuku to be one of them)
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*this is for not what will end up happening in the actual boba au ch4. but from here on out... i will probably still use some of the ideas below, so if you want to be totally surprised when i post the whole thing this summer, turn back now.
...but if you want a little treat, then keep reading ;)
after the gang reunites, yuma interrogates yakou, who confesses everything, even the extent of his murderous rage.
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mystery labyrinth happens in which yuma uses whatever leftover evidence he can to prove dl6 dr huesca was responsible for yakou's wife's death. yuma reaps huesca's soul... and when he leaves the labyrinth, yakou is still alive!
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AND AFTER ALL THAT HARD WORK THEY PUT INTO SAVING HIM HE DIES ANYWAY
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(he tries it one more time and gets that finger bitten clean off.)
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if anyone out there knows what the scorpion reference is from, you have earned my undying love. (if you don't...... well, then stay tuned for the neon downpour zine to find out B))
anyway. vivia is understandably struggling with this. he appoints himself as the guard to the kitchen/bathroom door, behind which zombie yakou is... uh, well, there.
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melami gets straight to the point.
"did you love him?"
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i thought vivia's feelings could have grown into something more, but never got the chance before it was ripped away.
this was pre-dlc. i was a fool.
he was madly in love the whole time.
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