#i may have figured out how to turn his voice into text to speech and i might have the power to make him say anything i want ?

[angeloftrumpets]

ended up going down the fucking rabbit hole YET AGAIN and ended up finding this cool video that is a lightshow synced to the nativity ep!! AND THE LIGHTS ARE SYNCED WITH THE CHARACTER TALKING AND THEY HAVE ONE FOR TOON!!!

#toon HOUSE REAL HES ON THE HOUSE ASJBDSKFHE #i would have freaked if i saw this irl #holy moly #also theres. so much stuff.. #what started the merch rabbit hole was cause i was trying to figure out who his voice actor is... still no luck. But #i may have figured out how to turn his voice into text to speech and i might have the power to make him say anything i want ? #(immediately made him go on a 15 second tangent about fre.ddy fa.zbear... and then a Second #Secret thing. (🤫) #Youtube

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 11

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

Part of the Silverfox AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You watch through the window, frosted at the corners like a Hallmark Christmas card. You can’t deny that the snow is beautiful as it gleams beneath the streetlights but can it slow down? You feel yourself buried deeper with each spiraling flake.

It’s almost eight and there’s no sign of a stop coming. The plows passed an hour ago but barely made a dent in the thick blankets. You check your app, the buses are all delayed, some routes are even out of service.

“I got snow tires but not sure they can handle this,” Bucky comes up beside you, “car’s not heavy enough. Best case scenario, we get stuck not far from here. Worst…”

“I’m s-sorry.”

“Sorry? I didn’t know you controlled the weather,” he scoffs.

“N-no, but I-I’m stuck here,” you blow out a long breath, “sorry to s-spoil your night.”

“Stuck?” He clucks, “never said that. It’s fine. Shit happens. You get to my age and it hardly even bothers you.”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“You calmed down,” he puts his hand on the window frame as he glances over at you.

You push your shoulders even higher. He’s not wrong. Your adrenaline fizzled out and now you’re just exhausted. Still, you can’t say you’re okay. Every shadow startles you as Mr. Rogers’ voice tickles the back of your mind. You’re back to watching over your shoulder.

“You’re not stuttering as bad,” he sniffs, “that’s all…”

“Sometimes it’s n-not as bad,” you agree, “s-still there though.”

“Getting cold in here,” he pulls his grip from the window frame and hugs himself, “how’re you doing? I got some extra slippers. A sweater?”

“Good,” you wave him off, “n-not that bad.”

He doesn’t say anything. You feel him watching you. He exhales through his nostrils and steps back on his heel.

“You’re damn stubborn,” he mutters.

“I–” you stop yourself. Arguing would just prove his point. And you are stubborn.

If only he knew how long you’ve stayed in a bad situation, thinking you could outpace it, that you could overcome it. Again and again. You’re too damn stubborn for your own good.

“So are y-you,” you say.

His response is unexpected. He laughs. He backs up, leaving you to watch the incessant snowfall.

“Yeah, I am,” he confesses.

You don’t answer. No comment is better than any that pops into your head. You continue to stare out hopelessly.

“You should let your parents know you won’t be home,” he suggests as pages flutter.

“I’m an a-adult,” you spin and lean on the window ledge, “they…”

…won’t care. You don’t say that out loud either.

“Never said you weren’t. Only figured,” he clicks on the tiny book light again.

“Uh, th-thanks,” you shuffle to the couch, well away from him and sit. You pull your phone, ignoring how the temperature nips at your fingers. You texted your mom an hour ago. She left you on read. Not even a thumbs up. “This should c-clear up s-soon.”

He snorts and looks over his book, “you really believe that?”

You meet his gaze and shake your head. He smirks and closes his book. He puts it on the armrest and stands.

“Come on, let me get you settled in,” he turns his palms out.

“Wh-what?”

“Sure, got a guest room upstairs. No point in you taking the couch. It’s stiff,” he explains, “I should have enough wood in the garage to get the fireplace going. Never really bother with it, too much work.”

“Uh, oh, o-okay,” you stand, “th-thanks.”

“You know, I am a nice guy. Or can be,” he leads you through the doorway. “If you’d just moved over a tiny bit–”

“W-what? I… the b-bookstore? You c-could’ve asked. You d-didn’t say e-excuse me,” you counter.

He grips the railing as he starts up the staircase ahead of you. “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right. I forgot my manners. Thank you, Miss Etiquette.”

“N-no, th-thank you,” you return tritely, “finally, y-you apologised.”

“Me?” He exclaims as he climbs, peeking over his shoulder, “you called me an old man.”

“I d-did.”

He’s quiet as he continues to the top. He stops on the landing and turns back to you. You step up level to him, well, not quite.

“Hm,” his lips thin, “I guess you weren’t wrong.”

“I w-wasn’t,” you proclaim proudly.

“Watch yourself,” he warns with a wag of his finger.

“S-sorry, I wouldn’t w-want to raise y-your b-blood pressure,” you tease.

He hesitates, almost flinching.

“Are you calling me old again?” He tilts his head.

You smile and shrug. His eyes narrow and his brow drops. He waves you off and turns on his heel.

“Right, your room is this way.” He directs you down the short hallway and taps a closed door, “I’ll grab you an extra blanket and something to sleep in.”

“You g-go to bed th-this early?”

He glowers as he faces you again, “no.”

“S-sorry, I-I’ll stop,” you put your hands up, “I ap-ap-appreciate it.”

“So,” he turns the knob without look and nudges the door open, “I’ll just go get that fire goaded and then we can figure out dinner. You hungry? I’m starving.”

“Er, yeah,” you say sheepishly, “but I… you d-don't need t-to.”

“Come on, don't,” he dismisses your protest, “you can pay me back.”

“Ah, I g-guess.”

“Stay for the recording,” he insists, “please. Let's get through episode one before you tuck tail.”

“T-tuck tail?” You blink.

“Not to say… I only,” he stops himself, “I'm asking nicely. I'm not used to begging, you know?”

You press your lips tight and look away, “I'll th-think about it.”

“Right, well you got a whole night to think,” he says, “so, uh, yeah, the fire.”

He spins and before you can react, he's halfway to the stairs. You watch him go as you blindly reach for the door, letting your hand rest on the wood lightly as he disappears below.

Mercurial, that's the word for it. You always wanted to fit that in somewhere. It's almost poetic but in the flesh, it's entirely confounding.

#series #au #marvel #mcu #drabble #captain america #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #silver lining #silverfox au #winter soldier #avengers

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 4

Find the series masterlist 

You learn some things, do Laswell a favor, and run into Captain again. This is becoming a bad habit. 

Speech in italics is Russian, this chapter. 

Warnings: Swearing, aftermath of violence, vague threat from terrorist, MW2019 typical Russians, blood, injury (not to reader), spy shit. 

Word count: 2k

Serious slow burn John Price x f!reader

You discovered the plot on accident. Really. 

It was just… one of those things.

Sergio had invited you to stay for a few days and play with his girls, so you did. You brought them gifts from Turkey, California, and Scotland (you’d had a layover and had gotten bored in the airport). 

The girls were darling, and you’d known them both all their lives. You would never, ever marry Sergio (not least because of his obsession with the next future ex-wife) but you loved his kids. Sophia and Natalia. For a while, when you’d initially started building this relationship, you’d helped tutor Sophia. 

Now, you played with the girls and helped to keep them out of trouble and helped with their homework. You were more or less the weird aunt they saw every once in a while, and that worked for you. 

The girls were asleep, but you’d been unable to sleep yourself. So you got up, figuring you’d have a little snack or some water and wander a bit. 

Except wandering may not have been the best idea. 

Low voices from a sitting room had you on alert, and you moved as quietly as you knew how, creeping closer. 

“...perfect bait for them,” someone was saying in Russian. Not Sergio. You didn’t recognize this voice, actually. 

“Why do you want to capture one of them?” That was Sergio, sounding vaguely disgusted. “More of a risk this way, no?” 

“You are short-sighted,” the first speaker said. Well, he was definitely above Sergio, then. “Capturing an operative will give us an edge.”

There was a beat of silence. “Still sounds risky,” Sergio grumbled. “But it is your will, so we will see it done. When will you set the bait?”

“It has been set already,” the leader said, sounding smug. “I let information leak about the gas storage, so the Americans will know of it by now. We will be ready this time.”

Well. That was fucked. 

There were days when the back and forth espionage shit got on your last nerve. 

“To a successful hunt, then,” Sergio offered, the gentle clinking of glasses following his words. 

You might be able to hear more if you stayed… But you also ran the risk of discovery. And that would end poorly for you.

Bullet in the head kind of poorly.

So you snuck away back up to your room, debating the best way to alert Laswell. Text was risky, but a call would be more risky, especially here. You couldn’t wait until morning, just in case people were already en route. And since you didn’t have a location… 

You puffed out a breath, walking into the en suite and shutting the door. There was no easy way to do this, and you didn’t trust Sergio not to have bugs planted in the bathroom. So you hummed to yourself as you typed out a quick text.

Gas a trap for info. Advise abort.

There. That was… not your best work, admittedly, but you were a bit strapped for time. It got your point across. 

And, really, if someone managed to get hold of your text records, you had more things to worry about than the wording of a single text. 

She replied two minutes later. Copy. Send updates.

You puffed out a breath. She was so lucky you liked her. (And that you were indebted to her still for her help.) 

Turning the shower on, you decided maybe a bit of hot water would help you relax enough to get to sleep. 

You were very glad you had the girls as an excuse to be out of the house for the fallout of the failed mission. Sergio didn’t tell you anything, but the blooming black eye spoke for him. 

You stayed another week, mostly because the girls pleaded with you to stay. But a little bit because you were curious and wanted to see if you could hear anything else. When that ended up being futile, you booked a flight to Morocco. 

Because why not.

The plan was to touch base with someone you knew who had fingers in shipping pies. (Seriously, the woman was an absolute master. She could get anything anywhere in the world, for the right price.) And, of course, to eat some delicious food, and check on the hideaway you kept there. You had several across the globe, but it had been a while since you’d been to this one. You probably needed to change out some of the non-perishables. 

It was supposed to be a low-key, quiet trip. Relaxing. The only adventure you wanted was wandering through the city. 

It was not a low-key, quiet trip. 

Three days in, you’d restocked your hideaway, contacted your shipping master friend, and found a new place with some of the best food you’d ever had. It was shaping up to be a good trip.

And then a man dropped down in front of you, woozy, dark skin glistening with sweat. The tactical vest was a dead giveaway, but the flag was a surprise. 

You very purposely did not look for a name. But you did do a quick sweep of the rest of him. 

Blood seeped out from under the vest, staining his shirt, and you swore softly.

“You need help.” 

“I’m fine.” But the words were a little sluggish, one hand pressing over the wound at his hip. 

“You need help,” you reiterated, glancing around, suddenly wary. You did not want to be caught in the crossfire of this, and the longer you stayed out in the open, the more likely that became. “Please. I’ve got bandages back at my place.” 

His gaze held yours, suddenly hard, calculating. “I’ve got people on the way,” he said, clearly testing.

“Good, then they can pick you up.” You ducked under one of his arms, your own looping across his back. “Come on, in we go. Before whoever shot you finds us both.”

He gave in, letting you walk him down half a block and inside. He didn’t even complain going up the stairs to your hideaway, though you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“This one’s mine,” you told him, pulling your keys out of your pocket when you reached the appropriate floor. It took a moment to get the door unlocked and maneuver him inside without letting go - he was slowly leaning more on you for support. You kicked the door shut after the two of you and more or less carefully deposited him in a chair. He groaned softly, like he didn’t even mean to, and you winced in sympathy. 

Fortunately, all your hideaways had first aid kits stocked, and you thumped it onto the table in front of him.

“I’ll help if you want,” you offered, taking a step back and putting your hands up, away from your body. “But you are very well armed and I am not.” 

“S’alright,” he muttered, accent effortlessly charming even as he popped open the first aid kit. “I’ve got it.” His gaze lifted to yours, a little less wary and a little more curious. “What’s your name?”

You tutted at him, amused despite yourself. “Does it matter? You need to get patched up and wait until your buddies come get you.” You put two sealed water bottles onto the table for him, already kind of mourning your decision. Dammit, you shouldn’t have brought him here. 

“Thank you.” He tugged his shirt up and out of the way to press gauze to the still-bleeding gash. 

“Don’t thank me yet,” you muttered, more to yourself than him. You stepped past him into your bedroom, taking a quick look around. Only a few things of sentimental value resided here, and you were quick to throw those and a change of clothes into a duffel bag. 

You had to burn this hideaway now. Not literally, but you’d never be able to come back here again. 

At least nothing here would give them more information on you. 

You set the duffel bag on the floor by the door, ignoring his gaze. You let yourself look around one last time. You really liked this place. Damn. 

“Where are you going?” His voice was calm, just a hint of urgency there. 

“Nowhere yet, I suspect,” you said on a sigh, turning to look. He didn’t actually have a weapon in hand, which rather surprised you. “Just getting ready to go once your friends arrive.” 

His eyes narrowed, suspicion growing. Your smile was crooked and understanding. 

“Just because I helped you doesn’t mean I want that kind of attention,” you said, hands carefully palms-out at your sides again. “Nothing personal.” 

He didn’t seem quite sure what to make of you, shoulders tense, fingers twitching. Then he blinked once and lifted his free hand to the radio on his vest. “Injured, currently patching up. Indoors, one unknown.”

Ah. You were likely the unknown. Well. Fair, honestly. You were acting pretty suspicious for anyone who didn’t know you. 

“Solid copy.” His hand left his radio, but his gaze stayed fixed on you. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“And I suppose I’m to wait here until they arrive?” You puffed out a breath. “Alright, sure.” You had contingencies, if you needed them. If you really needed to, you could call Laswell. But you hoped you didn’t have to. 

The wait was silent and felt like it dragged on forever, although in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Two heavy knocks pulled you from your spot, and you opened the door.

And then blinked.

“Captain?” 

His expression immediately settled into a scowl. “Ace.”

“Huh.” You stepped back to let him in. “I take it this one’s yours, then?” You nodded back at the wounded man behind you. 

“Yes.” He stepped past you, momentarily dismissing you to kneel by the injured man. You could hear them speaking quietly, going over the situation. But Captain’s voice had softened a little, care clear in the way he checked his man. He did have a heart after all. 

That would be your cue to leave. 

You picked up your duffel bag and managed to take one step before a quiet, “Sir,” cut you off.

“Where are you going?” 

Captain was glaring at you now, tense, wary. Probably thinking the worst of you. Again. 

“I have to abandon this place now anyway,” you pointed out reasonably. “You might as well enjoy it, get properly patched up before you go.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Is it not enough to know that I’m leaving?” 

“No.” He stood, prowling over to you, using his height to loom over you. 

You debated with yourself, head tilting to one side, looking up at him. You could probably make it if you distracted him with something and ran. Then again, you might not, and you were not in the mood today to be thrown around. 

“I am planning on getting the hell out before whatever chaos you’re involved in explodes.” You kept your tone dry, chin tipping in challenge. 

His lips thinned. “No.”

“You’re not my boss,” you said quietly, stepping into him, refusing to back down. “And you can’t keep me here, not without all kinds of trouble. I’ll be on my way to another country, and you can bug out as soon as you want.” 

He was going to keep arguing with you, you could see it in the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were ready to grab you. But something distracted the both of them, Captain turning to the injured man.

You didn’t wait. You booked it, hauling ass out of the apartment and down the stairs. You heard the yell behind you, but you didn’t acknowledge it, focused on getting out. 

And once you were outside, it was easy to find crowds and blend in, easy to get to the airport and buy a ticket to Cairo. From there, you weren’t sure, but you did know one thing. 

Captain was showing up too often in your life. He was becoming a distraction. And that? That could be a problem.

#waking lions #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

[endlessbittersweetdreams]

SUMMARY: Jake finds that apologizing to Robyn may be more difficult than he thought.

CREDITS:

🌟"Hard to Say I'm Sorry" - Chicago

🌟Pictures ... not mine!

In the locker room of 22 W, Jake tightened the knot of his necktie and then let out a weary sigh. Closing his locker and leaning against it, he scrolled through his list of contacts and stopped when he found Robyn's name. It had been two days since Sam ambushed him at Home Bar, and only one day since he'd made his first attempt at apologizing to Robyn. He'd started out with sending some text messages, expressing his regret for being so harsh. Having grown tired of not receiving a single response, he'd decided to try calling her. Perhaps if she heard his voice, she'd pick up on his sincerity. He didn't expect her to forgive him right away, but he had to at least try.

     Letting out a steadying huff of breath, Jake called Robyn and braced himself. Much to his chagrin, the result was the same as it had been the first, second and third times he'd tried to call her.

     "We're sorry, but your call could not be completed as dialed. Goodbye."

     Click.

     Jake stared down at the screen and purposefully bumped his head against the locker, as though that would solve anything. Figures.

    "Rough day already?" Will asked as he strolled into the room, dressed in a navy blue suit and striped tie.

     Jake opened his locker and put his phone on the shelf. "Don't ask," he warned, slamming the door shut. "What brings you here, Will? I thought the locker room was below you suit and tie types," he commented with a sarcastic grin.

     Will shrugged and gave his co-worker a smile. "You know me. I enjoy slumming it. Keeps me humble."

     "Well, I'm happy to be of service." Jake passed Will on his way to the door, stopping when his friend called out to him.

     "Hey! I've been thinking about taking Robyn's friend Chloe out on a date. If things work out, maybe we can double sometime." Jake just blinked back at Will, who went on. "You know, me with Chloe. You with Robyn. Could be fun."

     Jake hesitated for a moment and then shook his head. "That wouldn't be a good idea."

     Furrowing his brows, Will asked "Why?"

     Heaving out yet another sigh, the bartender explained. "Long story short: Robyn called it off." He decided against disclosing the part where she'd shut him out. He didn't want to deal with Will's barrage of questions, one of which would be "Why? What did you do to her?"

     Will's expression was one of regret. "That's strange. She seemed pretty into you."

     Jake turned his head, not wanting to meet Will's gaze. "Yeah. Well, things changed."

     "Well, I'm sorry. You two looked like a great couple."

     Jake opened his mouth to correct Will, but decided against it. Robyn and Sam were already raking him over the coals, and he'd been lectured by Simone. Knowing Will, he'd probably subject Jake to a speech about open relationships being a bad idea. "See you at Family Dinner," was all he said.

     Taking note of Jake's downhearted demeanor, Will gave him a nod and watched as he exited the room. Given the bartender's reputation for moving from one woman to the next, there had been a little part of Will that wondered how long Jake's relationship with Robyn would last. But having noticed how happy Jake and Robyn seemed to be whenever they were around each other, their breakup came as a bit of a shock to him. It didn't make sense. Then again, very few things made since where Jake was concerned. If Winston Churchill were still alive, he would describe Jake as "a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma."

When Robyn woke up on Saturday morning, the first thing she noticed were the arms wrapped around her. As she stared at a silver-framed photograph of herself and Ethan, she could feel movement behind her. He nuzzled her neck and planted a kiss on her head, and she let out a little sigh. While she'd like to claim that it was one of pure contentment, there was a little part of her that still felt the sting of Jake's absence. She hoped that, with time, she would be able to completely move on. All she had to do was focus on the here and now, and not on that little ache she felt whenever she thought of her former lover.

     "Good morning," she greeted as she turned to face Ethan.

     They shared a kiss and, when they parted, he could see the distant look in her eyes. "Hey. You all right?"

     She gave him a little smile. "I'm fine. Why?"

     "Nothing. It's just that you look like your mind is somewhere else."

     "I'm sorry. I'm just thinking about today."

     "Big plans?"

     "The biggest. A day with the girls. I'm meeting Chloe and Sam at that little outdoor cafe we like, and then we're going shopping. I want them to help me pick out a dress for the ball. I'm tired of wearing the same style. I want something different this time."

     Ethan pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm sure that you'll look beautiful in whatever you choose. You always do."

     "What are your plans for the day?" she wondered.

     "I think I'll go back to my apartment. Veg out in front of the TV before I prep for Monday. Madeline's worried about the way things are going, and she wants us both to be ready for whatever the prosecution throws at us."

     Robyn fought the urge to cringe at the mention of Madeline's name. She had finally bit the bullet and asked Ethan about the nature of his relationship with Madeline. He was upset at first, wondering why Robyn would ask such a question. But when he saw the pleading look in her eyes, he finally gave in and vehemently denied having an inappropriate relationship with Madeline. Robyn had studied him for a while, searching for any trace of deception, and then finally relented and apologized for being so suspicious.

     "You know," she began, tracing invisible patterns along Ethan's chest, "I can stop by later this evening. Even lawyers need a break from prep work."

     "I told my friend Rob that I'd help him with a project. Raincheck?" Robyn gave him a playful pout and a nod, and he chuckled as he held her close to him. "You can stop by tomorrow, if you want. We can order from that Chinese place you like."

     "All right. I'll pencil you in," she teased with a grin.

     They shared another kiss and then shoved the bedding aside. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ethan tugged on his underwear as he said "Speaking of Madeline ... she mentioned that she ran into you and your friend the other day."

     Robyn tugged on her nightgown and paused for a moment, keeping her voice even. "Oh?"

     "Yeah. Jack? Jacques?"

     "Jake," she corrected.

     "She said that Jake has been giving you photography lessons." He turned to look back at her. "You didn't tell me you picked up photography again."

     "It's a recent development," she explained, getting out of bed and entering the bathroom.

     Ethan tugged on his jeans. "I'd like to see the pictures you took."

     Robyn paused in the middle of brushing her teeth, lowering the toothbrush. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she sighed. There were quite a few pictures that she had to transfer to a private location. Specifically, pictures of Jake. Quite frankly, she wasn't ready to look at them just yet. Dozens of times, she considered deleting them. Why keep them if they brought her pain? But there were two things that kept her from eliminating them: she was quite proud of the way they turned out, and she wanted to keep a reminder of her time with Jake ... even for a little while longer.

     "You'll see them soon! I just need to choose the best ones," she called back.

After bidding farewell to Ethan and making plans to meet up with him on Sunday, Robyn took a quick shower and got ready for the day. The heat wave had come and gone, and the weather was warm but comfortably so. She tied her hair in a neat ponytail and kept her makeup minimal, settling for a blue floral print summer dress and her favorite pair of comfy white sandals. Having made sure that her cat was fed, played with and given plenty of fresh water, Robyn sent a brief text message to Chloe and Sam as she slid into the back of the taxi.

     Nearly a half-hour later Robyn was approaching a cute, little outdoor café in Manhattan. "Hello, ladies," she greeted as she walked up Sam and Chloe, who were already seated at their favorite table. "I see you've started without me," she remarked, sitting across from Chloe.

     "Don't get your panties in a twist. We ordered your favorites." Sam held out a vanilla-chocolate frappe and a chocolate chip muffin.

     "You're forgiven," Robyn said with a smirk, taking a drink of the frappe.

     "So, how are things with Ethan?" Chloe wondered before taking a bite of her pastry.

     "Fine. We're both looking forward to the ball, and he's still talking about going away for the weekend." Robyn broke off a chunk of her muffin and popped it into her mouth, relishing the flavor. When she noticed the look on Sam's face, she tilted her head to the right. "What? What's with that look?"

     "It's nothing. It's just ... have you heard from Jake?" Robyn let out a sad sigh, staring down at the table, and Sam felt her ire build up. The jackass probably chickened out.

     "No, I haven't. To be honest, I blocked his number."

     Sam tried to keep her expression neutral. You've GOT to be kidding me!

     "Why'd you do that?" Chloe inquired.

     "I think it's for the best. It'll make it easier to move on."

     Although she understood where her friend was coming from, Sam couldn't help but feel irritated. WHY did Robyn have to make things so difficult?

     "Well, this conversation took a downturn," Robyn muttered, feeling her bubbly mood dissipate little by little.

     Chloe exchanged a concerned look with Sam, who cast her gaze down to the blonde's handbag and gave a subtle nod its direction. Picking up on her friend's hint, Chloe announced "Well, I have something that's going to make you happy."

     Curious, Robyn watched as Chloe reached into her handbag and pulled out her copy of Chic Spaces. Holding it up with a bright smile, Chloe announced "Your feature in the Rising Star segment is in this month's issue! I bought a copy for all three of us."

     Sure enough, Robyn's mood was lightened. Ever since she'd picked up her first issue of her favorite home design magazine, she had dreamed of being featured in their Rising Star section. And now that the dream had become a reality, she found the experience both overwhelming and exhilarating. With a smile, she took the magazine from her friend and flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for. Though the segment was only a few paragraphs long, it was certainly a boost to both her ego and her mood.

     "I'm so proud of you, Rob."

     "We both are," Sam interjected.

     "Thank you. Both of you." After staring at the article for a few more seconds, she closed the magazine and tucked it into her handbag. With a grin, she leaned toward Chloe. "So, have you heard from Will? When I gave him your number, he seemed very interested."

     "I did, actually. He called me this morning." Chloe hesitated for a moment before she asked "Is it going to be weird for you? I mean, he does work with Jake."

     Robyn shook her head. "Not at all. Go for it. Have fun and tell me all about it." To emphasis her point, she reached across the table and gave her friend's hand a squeeze.

Robyn sighed as she stood in front of a full-length mirror, turning from side to side. "I don't know about this one," she said with a scrunch of her nose. "I think it makes my hips look big. Don't you?"

     Chloe, standing behind her friend, tilted her head to the side. "Well, I didn't want to say anything ..."

     Robyn let out a frustrated huff and gathered up the skirt, making her way to the dressing room. "This is ridiculous. This is the fifth dress I've tried on. I've never had this much trouble."

     Sitting on the plush white sofa and trying not to look bored out of her mind, Sam commented "Well, you are the one who wants to wear something different. Why don't you just go with your usual style?"

     "Because I'm tired of the 'usual style', Sam," Robyn retorted as Chloe lowered the zipper before she disappeared behind the dressing room door.

     Andrea, a woman in her mid-20s with her red hair tied back in a bun, approached the group with two more dress selections. "Ms. Hewitt, I've found two more in your size," she called, handing one dress to each of Robyn's friends before she scurried off.

     Still mostly hidden behind the curtain, Robyn peeked out and eyed the dresses her friends held up to her. One was a sleeveless gold gown with glittery accents on both the bodice and the skirt, while the other was a shimmering, lavender off-shoulder A-line gown. Dressed in a robe, she stepped out of the dressing room and closely inspected each dress. "Andrea, they're beautiful," she breathed, reaching out to feel the fabric of the gold gown.

     "And I'm certain you'll look lovely in either one," Andrea responded with a smile.

     Somebody's looking for a big commission, Sam thought to herself.

     Robyn continued to eye each dress, weighing the pros and cons. She could go with the gold gown, which would certainly be the more traditional choice. But then again, wouldn't she look too much like Belle from Beauty & the Beast? The lavender gown, on the other hand, was definitely an eye-catcher with the high slit in the skirt and the off-shoulder bodice.

     "Come on, Rob," Sam complained. "My arms are getting tired."

     Finally, Robyn reached for the lavender gown and stepped behind the curtain once more. A few moments later, after Chloe zipped her up, Robyn stepped in front of the mirror. Standing up straight, she turned from side to side and looked at herself from all angles.

     "What do you think?" she asked, even though she already knew her answer.

     "You look gorgeous," Chloe commented.

     "Do you think I'm showing too much leg?" Robyn wondered, striking the right pose for emphasis.

     "No way," Sam answered. "And you did say that you want something different."

     Robyn considered it for a few more moments, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She had to admit the dress did compliment her beautifully. Come on, Rob. You know it's the one. Just make the decision already. Squaring her shoulders and giving a determined nod, she announced "This is the one."

     "Ugh! Finally!" Sam exclaimed with a roll of her eyes.

     "Now we just have to find the right jewelry," Robyn decided.

     "And that is my cue to leave," Sam declared, and her friends turned to look at her.

     "Where are you going? I thought we were spending the day together," Robyn said, disappointed.

     "I'm sorry, Rob. I just remembered I have something to take care of, and it can't wait. But I'll catch up with you later." Grabbing her handbag, she said "You look gorgeous!" as she rushed out of the boutique. The sooner she got out of "Girlie Girl World," the better. Besides, she had to have a little chat with a certain someone.

     "Stay here. I'll ask Andrea for help," Chloe said, stepping away from Robyn to track down the sales associate.

     Robyn let out a bored sigh, her hands clasped in front of her. She was just about to step away from the mirror so she could practice walking around in the dress when a second reflection appeared.

     "My! Don't you look lovely," Simone remarked, her red lips brought up in her trademark half-smile.

     Robyn's excitement over the dress slowly started to give way to unease, and she forced a smile as she felt a pit forming in her stomach. "Simone. How lovely to see you," she lied.

     "And you as well."

     "What brings you here?"

     "It's my day off," Simone began. "I grew tired of feeling cooped up in my apartment, and so I decided to go for a walk. This is one of my favorite boutiques." She looked Robyn up and down. "I take it you're searching for a dress to wear to the charity ball."

     Robyn nodded. "Yes. It's my favorite event of the year."

     "This dress does suit you," Simone stated. "Though I'd like to make a suggestion." She reached toward Robyn's head, pausing for a moment. "May I?" Robyn said nothing, feeling too ill-at-ease to speak. Taking Robyn's silence as permission, Simone gently gathered her brown locks and brought them together in an updo. "There. Perfect." Robyn tensed a bit, swallowing the lump in her throat as Simone finally released her hair and smoothed it down. "I was sorry to hear about what happened between you and Jake," Simone commented.

     "He told you?" Robyn inquired, her nervousness increasing once again.

     "He didn't have to. I've known him for so long, it's become easy to read him. As disappointing as it is, perhaps it's for the best."

     "How do you mean?" Robyn asked, blinking in confusion.

     "Don't misunderstand me. I love Jake to death. But he can be rather ... difficult. Moody. As much as I hate to say it, I fear that he's far too ... damaged to handle a long-term relationship. And while I don't know you very well, I can tell that you need someone stable and dependable." She gave Robyn another insincere smile. "Someone like Mr. Price, perhaps."

     Robyn wanted to tell Simone that she knew nothing about her; that she had no right to dictate what she did and did not need. Instead, the words became lodged in her throat. What was it about this woman that made her feel so small; so intimidated?

     "Well, I'd best be off. Have a pleasant afternoon."

     Still rendered speechless, all Robyn could do was nod before the older woman walked - or was it slithered? - away.

     Having witnessed the exchange, and noticing the uneasy expression on her friend's face, Chloe frowned as she inquired "Who was that?"

     Trying to maintain her composure, Robyn gave the blond a little smile. "No one. What do you have for me, Chloe?"

Sam stepped out of the cab and onto the sidewalk, slamming the door shut. Letting out an annoyed huff as the taxi pulled away, she squared her shoulders and stepped into the restaurant. Thanks to Chloe, who had contacted Will via text message, Sam had discovered two things about Jake: (1) he worked at 22 W and (2) he was filling in for someone on what would have been his day off. Taking this as a sign, Sam had decided to pay the bartender a visit.

     Pulling open the door and stepping inside, she surveyed her surroundings. Dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top with a band logo on the front, she felt severely underdressed. Still, it wasn't like she was going to be here long. All she wanted was to talk to Jake and maybe get a cold drink as well.

     "What can I get for you?" asked a bartender whose nametag said James.

     "I'll take a beer," Sam requested, and James gave her a nod. As he prepared Sam's drink, the woman in question looked around. "Is Jake here?"

     "He's in the wine cellar. He should be back in a few minutes." James set the mug down in front of Sam and gave her a polite smile. "Enjoy."

     Trying to ignore the stares she received from the more upscale guests, Sam took a sip of her beer. She looked around at the decor for a few minutes and let out a bored sigh, straightening up when Jake finally stepped into view.

     Jake paused when he caught sight of Sam, trying to keep his face neutral as he remembered the warning she'd given him. More specifically, the part where she'd threatened to "fix him," if he didn't make things right with Robyn. He could still remember, in vivid detail, the rather psychotic look in her eyes as she made the scissoring gesture.

     Lowering the bar flap and handing the wine bottle to James, Jake cautiously approached Sam and lowered his voice so only she could hear. "Before you castrate me, you should know I've tried to apologize to Robyn. I've texted. I've called. I've --"

     Sam held up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "Don't worry. You can keep your balls." Though he felt relieved at that, Jake still eyed her cautiously. "Turns out Robyn blocked your number. And so I, being the amazing best friend that I am, am here to bail you both out of the mess you've made." Letting out an annoyed sigh, she reached into her bag and pulled out her copy of Chic Spaces. Holding the magazine out to Jake, she said "Here. You'll need this."

     Jake looked down at the magazine. "Sorry. I'm not into interior design."

     "Just take the fucking thing. Page twenty-two will be especially helpful," she insisted, giving him a meaningful look. He stared back at her for a few seconds and then did as she requested. "Good. My work here is done." After downing some more of her beer, she paid for her drink and slapped some cash down onto the bar top. Under Jake's watchful gaze, she slid off of the barstool and exited the restaurant.

     Looking around to make sure he wasn't being observed, he opened the magazine to page twenty-two. He couldn't help but smile when he saw a picture of Robyn underneath the words Meet This Month's Rising Star: Robyn Hewitt! Intrigued, and knowing that there was a lull in guest traffic, he leaned against the bar top and began to read the article.

     Hailing from London, England, Robyn Hewitt has certainly made a name for herself in the world of interior design. Known for her graceful and striking designs, Ms. Hewitt is capable of turning everyday living or working spaces into something truly magical. Her designs often incorporate bold colors and patterns, as well as natural elements and textures. She has a keen eye for detail and a talent for creating spaces that are functional and beautiful.

     Jake scanned the article quickly, losing interest in the constant babbling about colors, patterns, designs, sketches, etc. Just when he began to wonder about the point Sam was trying to make, his interest perked when he noticed a sentence that was highlighted in yellow: Ms. Hewitt is currently employed by Dawson Interior Designs, which is based in Manhattan.

     All right, Sam. Hint taken, he thought with a smirk.

Sitting at her desk, Robyn let out a sigh as she put the finishing touches on her design. Her meeting with Omar Gumal had gone as well as could be expected. With the exception of a few minor changes, he was still thrilled with the overall design.

     Robyn knew that many people in her field preferred to rely on computer software, at least during the beginning stages. But she tried to avoid technology as much as possible, as she found it easier to "breathe life," into her designs while putting pencil to paper. Yes, it took more time. But, as she'd assured Mr. Gumal, it would all be worth it in the end. He had nodded in understanding, telling her that he felt the same way. Though he'd told her that she could take all the time she needed, she couldn't help but feel that time was of the essence. But that probably had more to do with her putting pressure on herself than any words Mr. Gumal had spoken.

     With the colored pencil still in her hand, Robyn stared down at the sketch for a few moments and carefully analyzed it. Satisfied that it was complete, she put the pencil back where it belonged. She was in the middle of slipping the design into her art portfolio when a knock on the door captured her attention.

     "Yes?" she said, her focus on the task at hand.

     "Robyn, there's someone here to see you." Robyn turned her attention to her assistant, who mouthed to her "And he's gorgeous!"

     Robyn had to smile at this. "Does he have a name?"

     Hannah opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the man in question. When he stepped into view, Robyn's smile disappeared and she did her best to keep her expression neutral.

     "Jake." Her body stiffened a bit ask she asked "What are you doing here?"

     "Hi, Robyn," he greeted with a small, uneasy smile. "Can we talk?"

     Hannah looked back and forth between the two, not entirely sure what she should do. The atmosphere seemed tense. Had she made a mistake by bringing Jake to Robyn's office?

     Rising from her seat, Robyn said "That will be all, Hannah. Thank you."

     Hannah gave her a nod and then made her way back to her desk, casting one last nervous look in their direction before Robyn closed the door. Robyn crossed over to her desk, leaning against it with her arms crossed.

     Jake stood in front of the door for a few seconds, taking in her appearance. Her hair was tied up in a French twist updo, a few strands framing her face. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt, simple black heels, and a sleeveless white blouse with lace details on the front. She was the embodiment of beauty and professionalism, and Jake couldn't help but admire her.

     "How did you know where to find me?"

     "I read the article about you. It said that you work here."

     She tilted her head to the side. "You read that?"

     "Yeah. I have a subscription to Chic Spaces. Didn't you know that?" Then, more seriously, he explained. "A friend showed the article to me. Congrats, by the way."

     Robyn shrugged, blushing a little. "It's not that big of a deal. Just a little blurb, really. Five paragraphs that sum up my career."

     "You're being recognized. It is a big deal."

     She watched as Jake tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, looking around curiously. Now that he was face-to-face with Robyn, he was starting to lose his nerve. He knew that he had to apologize to her. He wanted to, in fact. But what could he say to make things right?

     "So this is your office, huh?" Great job, Mr. States the Obvious! You're on a roll!

     "Yes," she confirmed with a nod, watching him carefully. When he walked up to a wall filled with framed sketches, she explained. "I call that my Vanity Wall. Those are my favorite designs; the ones I'm most proud of."

     Jake took his time looking at each one, smiling to himself. He knew what she did for a living. He just didn't realize how talented she was. "These are good." He focused on one in particular. "You designed the Fleur-de-Lis?"

     "Yes. I designed the dining room. Have you been there?"

     Jake nodded. "Yeah. That's Simone's favorite restaurant. We go there for her birthday every year."

     Robyn tensed up, still feeling the impact of Jake's harsh words as well as her encounter with Simone. "Jake, I hate to rush you. But I'm quite busy, and --"

     Jake turned to face her, his smile fading when he saw the expression on her face and the hurt in her eyes. "Right. Get to the point." He rested the palm of his hands on the back of a chair, steadying himself. "I've been thinking about that night in the alley, and ... I owe you an apology."

     Robyn nodded in agreement. "I can't argue with that." She made a "go on," gesture and then crossed her arms again, raising her brows in expectation.

     With Tess, it had been so easy. All he had to say was "I owe you an apology," and then casually tell her that he could "be a prick sometimes," all the while standing there with his arms behind his back, giving her his best contrite look. She'd let things go right away, and that was that. But Robyn, it seemed, wanted an actual, full-fledged apology. She wasn't going to make things easy on him.

     "Robyn, I'm so sorry. Calling you blind and pathetic ... It was harsh."

     "Yes, it was. I just want to know why, Jake."

     Jake thought about telling her "Because I'm crazy about you, and I don't want to say goodbye," but the words just wouldn't come out. Besides, she'd already made her choice. Being that vulnerable with her wouldn't change anything. So instead, he settled for "Tact isn't my strong suit."

     She scoffed, turning her head to the right. "Clearly." Then she looked at him again. "But that still doesn't explain why, Jake." 

     "I swear I didn't mean to hurt you, Robyn." She stared back at him, and he continued. "And I know it's none of my business, but... I hate seeing what Ethan puts you through."

     "So yelling at me and insulting me is just your way of saying you care?"

     He chuckled a bit. "Yeah. I guess so."

     Robyn looked down at the floor. "You're right, Jake. It's none of your business." Jake felt a pit form in his stomach, and he feared that she wasn't going to let things go after all. Then she returned her gaze to him, a smile gracing her features. "Thank you. And again, I --"

     He held up a hand, stopping her. "Don't. You've apologized enough. It's okay."

     "No, it's not. I --"

     He laughed softly. "I'm trying to let you know that I forgive you. Just take it."

     She shut her mouth and nodded. "All right. Thank you."

     "And you're right. I don't know what it's like to be with someone for more than a month. I just know this: you don't deserve to be treated like shit, by anyone. But I get it." Then, with a knowing smile, he added "Something tells me that you don't give up on people you really care about."

     Robyn gave him a nod. "I know it's silly, but --"

     "No, it's not. I think it's great." Jake fell silent for a moment before he said "This might be the last time we talk like this. Huh?"

     Feeling the sting of regret, she sighed. "I think that would be for the best."

     "We had fun. Didn't we?"

     "We certainly gave our friends a lot to talk about," she remarked with a chuckle.

     "Yes, we did."

     "I don't regret any of it."

     He grinned at her. "Not even Home Bar?"

     She rolled her eyes. "Not even Home Bar." She paused for a moment, hesitating before she finally admitted "I'm going to miss you, Jake."

     He stopped smiling, feeling that all-too-familiar pang in his heart. "Yeah. You, too."

     They shared a moment of silence, knowing that there was so much they wanted to say. But they had to face the facts: some things were better left unsaid.

     "I'd better get going." Jake opened the door and turned to look at her one more time. "Take care, Robyn."

     Robyn stepped up to the door and leaned against the frame, watching Jake's retreating form as he made his way to the elevator. She thought, for the briefest of moments, of stopping him before he stepped inside. But what good would that do? Even though he cared for her, that didn't mean that he wanted to be with her. Going by that night in the alley, Jake wasn't shy when it came to speaking his mind. And besides, she still loved Ethan. She couldn't cheat on him, no matter how tempted she was.

     And so, when the elevator doors slid open and Jake stepped inside, Robyn steeled her nerves. Ignoring the curious looks she received from Hannah and the other office workers, she closed her door and shut the blinds: her signal that she didn't want to be disturbed. Sinking into her desk chair and leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and tried to keep her emotions under control.

     She'd done the right thing. Hadn't she?

@anastacia-lynn

@kimmyiewrites

@peageetibbs

@mypsychoticlove

@ladyredstar1991

@thepaintedlady00

#jake sweetbitter #tom sturridge #tom sturridge sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #sweetbitterstarz #jake x oc sweetbitter #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter #sweetbitter tv series #emilia clarke as robyn #Youtube

[iguana-eyanna]

Inside of Your Light

Pairing: Jeff Wittek x Plus Size Model! Reader

Summary: The vlog squad threw you a special surprise for your birthday, including a big present that may change your life.

a/n: songfic What Have I Done by Dermont Kennedy

You woke up around 7 o'clock in the morning when your phone rang. You groggily grab it and see that your boyfriend, Jeff, started to facetime you. "Hello?" you whispered as your eyes tried to pry open.

"Happy Birthday, baby girl." Jeff said brightly, making you blush.

"Aww, thank you, Jeff. But why did you call me so early in the morning?" You joked as you started to sit up on your mattress. "Sorry, I'm at the gym at the hotel and I thought you'd be awake right now." Jeff replied sheepishly. Jeff got offered a brand deal in New York so he wasn't able to celebrate your special day in LA.

"It's ok, I was meaning to get dolled up a bit before Carley and Erin pick me up to get our nails done." You started to yawn as it made Jeff's heart melt a bit. "You're so cute when you wake up." he said, admiring how the sun hits the back of your head.

You smirk back at the screen as you playfully roll your eyes. “And to everyone else in the world, I’m Frankenstein coming back from the dead.” Jeff laughed harder as he smiled at you. “I gotta go and wrap my reps. Just wanted to wish my best girl an amazing day.” You blow him an air kiss as he winked back. “Love you, babes.” You said as you got out of bed. “Love you more,” Jeff said before he hung up the call.

You take a deep breath and thought how lucky you were to be with a guy like Jeff. You and Jeff joined the vlog squad around the same time a few years back. You were a plus-size model for a few companies like Fashion Nova and Pretty Little Thing. Once you started off your YouTube channel, Carley saw your videos and dmed you on Instagram to hang out sometime. You met up at a lunch with the group and she introduced you to everyone, but somehow caught Jeff’s eye.

The whole time, you and Jeff started to hit it off. Then with a lot of flirting and calling each other late at night, you both decided to make it official. Jeff thought you would turn him away due to his past, but you truly accepted him for his journey, even if it wasn’t pretty. Now you were going strong for about three years, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

After you’ve gotten ready, Erin texted you that they were outside. You head out and enter their car as they began filming. “Hey, guys! We just picked up our queen, happy birthday!” You smile brightly as you buckle in the back. “Thank you guys!” you said. Carly turns back to you and gives you your favorite Starbucks drink and a cake pop. “Thought you could use a little sugary treat to start the day.” You make a small pout from the gesture, thanking her again.

On your way to the nail salon, you guys start talking about David’s latest antics as well as a fancy restaurant that just opened that you really wanted to try. The girls make a face at the camera but you didn’t make of it as you arrived at your appointment. Carly switches off the camera as you all started heading out of the car.

Once you were all done, you all started to fan over the amazing job of your nail artists (which you all generously tipped) and decided to go out for lunch. “Are we still clubbing tonight?” Carly asked as she sipped her Seltzer. You nod yes as you finished a bite of your appetizer. “Yep, I’m so excited to wear this cocktail dress Jeff gave me before he left. I just wished he was here to celebrate.” You said, fumbling with the end of a napkin in front of you.

The girls give you a sympathetic look, knowing how much you’ve been missing him the past couple of days. Even after they changed the subject, all you could think of was Jeff. But after a good meal and a little site seeing, you started to feel a bit better. The girls dropped you home so you could relax before clubbing the night away.

Right when it hit evening, you began getting ready as you curled your hair and did your makeup just right. You slipped on the dress Jeff gave you that adored every curve on your figure, silently thanking your boyfriend for his taste in fashion.

You suddenly hear a knock at the door, thinking it's one of the girls. You unlock the door and open it to reveal no other than your very well-dressed boyfriend. "Jeff! You're back!" You screamed as you gave him a crushing hug, later kissing him. "Hey, doll." Jeff whispered as you took his breath away, taking out a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"What are you doing back home?" You asked, still dazed that's actually at your doorstep. "C'mon, did you really think I was going to miss my best girl's big day?" He questioned with a twinkle in his eye. You roll your eyes and hug him again, truly blessed to have such an amazing boyfriend.

"I'm here to pick you up to your destination, shall we?" He offers his hand that you gladly took it. He helps you in his car as you both drove off to the main road with his hand on your upper thigh. You notice that he doesn't take the road to the club. "Babe, I think you missed a turn." you told Jeff who was smirking even more at your cluelessness. "Don't worry dolI, I know where I'm going." he takes a hold of your hand and kisses your knuckle as you blush harder.

He then parks in a parking lot and goes out of the car to open your door. Before you could actually take in your surroundings, Jeff shielded your view. "Hey! Jeff seriously, where are we?" you lightly scolded him. "You gotta trust me now, okay?" you agreed as you grumbled under your breath. With a few more steps, you start to enter a doorway that was decorated with...

streamers?

Jeff takes his hands off and you see all of your friends surrounding you. "Happy Birthday!" they all screamed out loud. You smile from ear to ear as Jeff wrapped his arms around your waist. Utterly shocked, you did your best to express your happiness but you were beyond speechless.

You suddenly realized that the place you were in was the restaurant you've desperately wanted to try and you turn around to Jeff who was beaming at your joy. "All for you, baby girl." his husky voice told you as you hugged him, pecking his face with kisses. Then, all of your friends ushered you both in to dine and dance. You saw how the entire restaurant had accents of rose gold decorations, as well as your friends wearing the same color palette.

Although this surprise was really touching, something was bothering you. Usually, they would throw parties like these for David, so why would they celebrate something big for you?

Later on, you all ate the most mouth-watering food as well as dancing to your favorite songs. Once they take out the birthday cake, you lose sight of Jeff. You ask Carly where he is but she brushed it off, saying that he's probably getting you a drink. As you started to dish out the cake, David stood up and clinked a knife to a glass.

"Hey everyone! If I could get your attention please." David shouted as the whole party calmed down. "There is a special surprise waiting outside on the back patio for our birthday girl, so could our celebrant please wear a blindfold?" Everyone started to cheer except for you. "I swear David if it's a wild animal..." you warned him but it was too late. One of the guys used a long fabric to cover your eyes, guiding you outside.

They take off the blindfold to reveal your boyfriend standing in front of you. You don't understand what's going on until you see a flower arch in the back of him, with a message illuminating "Marry Me." You gasp lightly as you cover your mouth with your eyes starting to water.

Jeff takes your shaking hands into his, ready to start his speech. “I wasn't really in New York for a brand deal, I was picking up your birthday gift.”

He then lowers himself on one knee, taking out a small pastel pink box to reveal a beautiful gold band decorated with transcendent diamonds. Both of you start to cry, but Jeff is literally a mess as he tries to finish his words.

“Before I met you, I thought I’d be better off alone. Now, my soul has been torn and reborn, started breathing for the very first in my life. As I’m standing in front of you, I wanna get it right for once.

Oh, believe me when I say I've been knocked out and beat but this feeling is fleeting. Even this morning, I've been thinking 'bout the way you smile golden…I want to move inside of your light.

I never thought I needed saving, I was right where I should be Good God, I know it's dangerous, but it's you that I need I'm in love this time. So, do you wanna be mine forever?”

You uncover your mouth and shake your head.

"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes." you said. The waterworks literally overcame both of you as he slid the ring around your finger, getting up to kiss your lips. Your friends cheer as they close up to you, firing confetti cannons into the air. You look up to Jeff as you wiped away his happy tears away from his face.

No words were exchanged, but you could tell through his eyes that he was forever grateful for you to be a part of his life. You both kiss again, ending the night with great friends and memories that will forever last in the video Joe has been recording for Jeff's channel (which trended 14 million on YouTube for a whole month).

You were the light in his life and he will bask in it for eternity.

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek fluff #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek x y/n #vlog squad #david dobrik #carly and erin #youtube #vlog squad imagine #jeff wittek fanfic #vlog squad fanfic

[beann-e]

Haikyu! Characters With A Shy Manager

Inarizaki Players With a Shy Manager

Read Part Two Here

Suna

- Suna is the type to not really care about what’s going on unless it’s fun , funny, or simply involves him .

-A lot of people say he just doesn’t care and is a smoker ? or is just lazy but I believe that he’s just uninterested in things that he doesn’t want to be put in or has no business in. He’s very chill and just goes with the flow.

-he’d accidentally make you laugh

It’d been 3 weeks since you became the teams manager and you had yet to laugh or actually hold a conversation with anyone.

It wasn’t that you weren’t trying you just didn’t know how to keep a conversation going and no one was very funny on the team

well , except for Atsumu and Osuma when they did their sibling things

You sat on the bench as you watched a fight break out “ Osuma why aren’t yer trying “

“ I am “

“ are not “

“ am too “

“ are not “

“ look we all just can’t jump in head first and dive straight into volleyball like you ‘tsumu “

“ well that doesn’t mean don’t try “

“ agh i’m sick of you — shutup“

“ you don’t tell me to shut up “

“ yes I do — now shut yer trap”

you moved to stand as you watched the two boys fight you’d grown use to it and knew not to step in you wouldn’t know how to stop them anyways.

You watched as Kita moved to break them up Aran watching the fight closely trying to determine the winner while Suna moved quickly taking photos at all angles

Everyone calming down while Kita took the two boys away to talk to them leaving you in charge as everyone turned to you

“ what do we do now y/n-san “

“ oh um — “ your eyebrows furrowed in confusion you didn’t know what to tell them to do and the way they were all staring at you some even hovering near you standing over you like your houses fence had you ready to bolt and cry into kitas arms

You felt as your mouth tightened you biting your lip looking for a way to calm yourself down feeling someone stand next to you.

Your body having a chill run through it looking up at the black haired male who stood next to you not making eye contact and looking straight ahead at the men in front of him

He knew not to make eye contact with you knowing he may intimidate you since he was taller than you and simply a lot bigger he knew girls like you — that were shy tended to be afraid of things like that.

They seemed to get in their head and make themselves anxious which is why he was confused when Kita said he found a manager that was perfect to watch over the boys and keep them in line

he just figured Kita used you as a way to make sure no boys would try to flirt with you though that never stopped Atsumu

Even if he knew you were scared he would continue to bug you until you gave an awkward laugh at the situation and ran to Kita leaving the boy to sulk alone

Your eyes came together in confusion as you saw him thrust his phone out in front of you showing a video that he pressed play to

The fight between the two males playing with sound as the camera slowly zoomed in on your face a small smile playing at it as the video ended “ got you “

you looked over to see him smiling down at you happily “ w-wha—huh “

“ i’ve made it my duty ever since you’ve joined the team to figure out when you would smile and I found it — I finally caught it—i’m quite proud of me if I do say so myself “

you felt as a weight had been lifted off your chest your straight line mouth quirking up into a smile before it broke and turned into a small laugh which only grew when you thought about how dumb his actions were

Sunas mouth opening and eyes widning when he saw the bright smile on your face that would show whenever you stopped laughing to breathe

his heart clenching as he moved through his phone trying to find another funny thing to show you

He didn’t want this to end

He really thought you looked beautiful and in this moment he knew he had a crush on his teams quiet manager

Kita

-kita is a leader he has a schedule and only makes time for things that are on it

-he doesn’t mean to make you laugh but his schedule just makes for comedic material

You were standing by the door watching the whole time as the teams captain sat in the volleyball closet finally breaking down

Tears pouring down his face as he set the ball on the ground he had just finished shining. Body shaking as he took a breath

“ k-kita-san are you ok “ your voice hit him fast before he could wipe his tears

“ I-I just — theres “ he took a deep breath as he stared at you

“ A balls missing y/n “ he screeched “ A ball is missing and I can’t figure out if I let someone take it home or if I lost it on accident “

his eyes teared up again “ H-How — I do this every day I don’t know how I lost the ball— how I messed up the count just “ he was pleading with you

“ just please — don’t tell the team we’re missing one — they’ll demote me from captain because I can’t follow a simple schedule “

you didn’t want to but you felt your face break as a laugh ripped through your body that had been bubbling at the surface since the beginning of his speech

“ what — y/n this is not funny I may lose my position“

you laughed harder “ pfft kita-san if you lose your position over a ball I have in my hand right now I will talk to the team myself — no matter if they scare me or not “

his eyes lit up “ y-you have it “

“ yes I do — “

you passed it to him walking over to squat by him as he smiled happily starting to shine the ball “ oh thank god — my schedule may continue — now all I have to do is clean the showers and i’m good to go start practice “

he smiled at you “ y/n where did you find this —- I have to thank you “

you laughed harder “ kita — please there no need“ you smiled at him as you decided to finally sit down next to him turning your bright smile towards him

“ I stayed late last night and helped Aran with his serves so , we used the ball I just brought you —I forgot to bring it back and Aran locked the gym up too fast after we left and I was anxious and scared to ask him to unlock it so I just took it home with me “

you pouted at your words “ i’m actually sorry I didn’t know I was hurting you — I should have sucked it up and asked him “

“ y/n it’s ok I admit my schedule is a bit — but — I thank you for helping me calm down “

he nudged your sad body “ maybe with your help I can stop relying on my schedule all together yeah ? “

you smiled brightly again laughing when you saw his surprised face at your action his face that grew even more confused but interested when you laughed

“ of course i’d love to help you kita — senpai “

he felt as his body went hot and his face grew warm hands shaking at your actions.

He wasn’t sure when it started maybe it began when you initially started helping the team by offering late night volleyball practice to those who need help without all the attention

or maybe it was when you offered your number for those who were too scared to ask questions so, they could text them to you and you would ask for them — even though you’d feel scared yourself and had your hands sweating while you asked

He wasn’t sure but he knew that by the smile on your face that he would always want to see it whenever he looked at you

#haikyuu x s/o #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #kita #inarizaki #suna rintarō #suna rintaro headcanons #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna headcanons #suna rintaro fluff #haikyuu atsumu #hq atsumu #miya atsumu #osamu x reader #haikyuu osamu #osamu hcs #kita shinsuke #inarazaki #s/o #shy s/o #aran headcanons #aran x reader

[realcube]

The Maid Café || Saiki K x Reader

summary: nendou and kaidou keep pestering saiki to visit their favourite maid café but he shuts them down every time. however, after a bit of prying they manage to convince him to give the place a try and while they are there, you just so happen to be on shift. 

tw// cussing, maid café, (she/her) reader

key:

“non italicised text” = somebody besides Saiki speaking

“italicised text” = Saiki telepathically communicating

‘italised text’ = Saiki’s thought

‘Of course Nendou and Kaidou would be into maid cafés of all things — not cat cafés, not internet cafés — it just had to be maid cafés.’  

Saiki’s internal monologue began as Kaidou continued gushing on about the cute lady he met at the café a few days ago as an argument to why Saiki should join them next time they go. Not to say Saiki wasn’t listening as he felt extremely sorry for whatever lady had to tolerate Kaidou’s advances and his prayer went out to her but besides that, he really couldn’t care less about the maids or the café. 

Until, his attention was involuntarily aroused at the vocalisation of his name from Nendou, “Saiki’s definitely in for Friday, I’m pretty sure I sold him when I told him that the sandwiches there are almost as good as the ramen we usually get.”

‘No, you didn’t. I won’t be coming to join you on Friday. I’d much rather stay--’ 

Somehow Kaidou managed to cut off Saiki’s internal monologue with his annoying voice, “Don’t be silly, Nendou. You’re not going to win Saiki over with such a ridiculous comparison, one that he clearly doesn’t care about.” 

‘Am I delusional? Is this a hallucination? Or did Kaidou just say something logical and based in reality?’

Kaidou’s aura immediately changed to dark and sinister as a mischievous smirk crossed his face, the background squawks of the crows suddenly became much louder for some unknown reason. “Instead, you must locate your opponent's weak point before you can recognise the crucially important moment to exploit it. The process takes patience but it is one I have learned from my many years rebelling against Dark Reunion. Now, young Nendou, watch and learn.” He finished with a dramatic flip of his school jacket which was slung over his shoulders as a cape.

‘What was all that about?’

Saiki wondered before Kaidou turned to him, much less brooding than he was a few seconds ago, and said casually, “Your loss if you don’t come, Saiki — you’ll be the one missing out on some of the best desserts in our whole town — not to mention the coffee jelly.”

✿✿✿✿✿

‘How do I always end up losing to these people? I am a psychic for god’s sake!’

Saiki mentally cursed himself out as he stood shamefully in front of the maid café, wearing a carefully curated outfit — including his germanium ring  — created especially to hide his identity from anyone from his school that might pass by the café and spot him in there through the window or something. Honestly, he wouldn’t be caught dead in a maid café, or so he thought.

However, all the reviews he read along with both Nendou and Kaidou’s thoughts helped him conclude that this place’s coffee jelly and general dessert selection is nothing to sneeze at. In fact, his favourite Tumblr blog - DeadlyDesserts11037 - visited the place and gave it a 5 star review, recommending everybody who happens to pass by the town to definitely check the place out. After that, he was sold.

Saiki looked over at his friends and couldn’t help but facepalm in response to their bright red, thrilled expressions. “Good grief, please don’t tell me you are both that excited over ladies in maid outfits.” As you might’ve guessed, Saiki didn’t really understand the concept of a ‘maid café’, so he simply assumed the male obsession with maids had something to do with the objectification of women hence he obviously did not want to take part.

“Saiki, you’re seriously just built different if this doesn’t touch your soul.” They both brushed the pink-haired boy’s comment off, completely mesmerised by the sight of a particularly pretty maid-lady walking by the window — probably on her way to serve a table — carrying a notepad in one hand and a plate with a scrumptious-looking coffee jelly on top. 

Saiki followed their gaze, his breath hitching at the sight. He was speechless; no sarcastic comment, no running commentary, nothing. Just..woah! If he had known that the girls that work at this place were so gorgeous and the food looked so delicious, he would’ve came a long time ago.

He wasn’t even sure which one he wanted more; the girl or the jelly. In a way, one wasn’t complete without the other because the coffee jelly which she held high next to her head brought out her (E/C) eyes while her shapely figure highlighted the defined curves of the jelly. Drool was quick to start forming at the corners of his lips but he was even quicker to wipe it away; he was starving.

“We’re going in.”

✿✿✿✿✿

To Saiki’s dismay, it was not the stunning (H/C)-haired girl who he had caught a glimpse of through the glass that ushered them to their table. Rather, it was a slightly less gorgeous maid-lady who had long, bright purple hair which was clearly a wig. 

Fortunately for him, after she left Kadiou, Nendou and himself to take their seats, she rushed off saying that someone will come take their orders whenever they are ready.

Even with his psychic abilities, there wasn’t much he could think of to alter fate so the pretty coffee-jelly lady would end up serving their table, and besides that, he was way too caught up in gawking at all the mouth-watering desserts they had pictured on the menu. 

Simply glancing over the menu brought a stupid grin to his face, he wanted to try every delectable treat presented in front of him. However, he knew he must exhibit restraint, which was fairly simple as he knew deep down there was only one thing on the menu that he was truly after. You guessed it  — coffee jelly.

Usually, he couldn’t care less about what his friends comrades were going to order but in this case, he was tempted to try convince both Kaidou and Nendou to order something he liked so he could take a bite of whatever they were having, “What are you two going to order?”

Yet again though, he was ignored as Nendou and Kaidou were both too busy checking out other types of snacks to care about the ones on the menu. 

Then, a movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention so his head jolted from the menu to his new target, the beautiful girl he had saw through the window earlier. Previously, she was holding a coffee jelly but now she was basically empty handed, until she approached the table and pulled out a notepad and pen, “May I take your orders?” She asked in the most calming, melodious voice Saiki had ever heard, the sounds that left her mouth were nothing short of angelic. Which made sense since her serving their table must’ve been god’s gift to Saiki for all his hard work.

Chills, Saiki got literal chills before he mused, “A coffee jelly, and two brownies for the pair of clowns.” His blood ran cold; curse his smooth sarcastic comments! Most of the time, he was able to filter himself but due to the nerves that arose while talking to you, he probably shouldn’t be surprised that he had a little slip of the tongue. But now, you probably think he is a bitch that insults people on the regular; which he is, but not usually aloud! Plus, he couldn’t even tell what you were thinking due to his germanium ring and your distant expression, awful combo!

While he was in the middle of feeling bad for himself and considering teleporting away home, a miracle happened, you burst out laughing. And somehow, your laughter was even more silvery than your voice. 

Saiki had zoned-out from pure shock for a moment before coming back to reality, noticing that you had started jotting down something in your notepad, a sweet smile still lingering on your face despite the fact you had stopped laughing. “Alright, so one coffee jelly and two brownies. Anything else?” You asked, glancing back and forth between the three equally unique and strange men sitting at the table. 

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Saiki telepathically communicated as he usually did, considering actually using his mouth to speak for a change so he didn’t seem weird but in all honesty, he couldn’t be bothered. In any other situation, he would’ve gotten a drink of water or perhaps hot cocoa but right now he was way too afraid of making another error in his speech to request something else. 

Silently, he extended his arm to hand you the menu he was given when he entered the café, along with the ones Kaidou and Nendou were given too. His actions single-handedly shooting down your plan of leaning across the table to ‘take the menus’ but in reality it is just a subtle way of showing-off how nice your torso looked in this maid outfit, a trick you learned from your supervisor. 

You nodded, closing over your notepad and making your way over to the kitchen, being sure to swing your hips just a little bit extra to impress the pink-haired megane at the table you just took an order from. You mentally cursed your stupid brain though for always crushing on guys/gals who don’t seem the least bit interested in you. In this case, the guy’s attention was divided between his star-struck friends and the desserts on the menu, rather than you which was an unusual sight in a maid café considering that most people would only come to ogle at the waitresses. 

✿✿✿✿✿

“So, Saiki.” Kaidou finally landed back into reality after a large chunk of the waitresses roaming around were now in the kitchen which he didn’t have viewing access to, “What did you order us?”

‘So, he was fully aware that the waitress came to take his order, he just chose to ignore her and left me to order his food. What a child, it must be a side-effect of his eighth grade syndrome.’

Saiki couldn’t help but sigh, “I ordered you both brownies.”

Kaidou stuck out his bottom lip to form a pout as he crossed his arm over his chest like a toddler, “I hate brownies.” He muttered to himself, realising that if he wanted something done right, he’d have to do it himself.

An amused smirk tugged at Saiki’s lips but he resisted the urge to laugh, ‘I know.’ He thought, his masterplan to eat more food without looking greedy falling into place. “Oh well, more for me then.”

Suddenly, Nendou spun his head around to abruptly join the conversation, “Hey guys, did you see the hottie that was serving our table?” He inquired with starry eyes, as if he was a kid in a candy store.

Saiki nodded, ‘Obviously I did, you moron. I was the one who ordered the food for goodness’ sake!’

Kaidou shook his head, his eyes lighting up as he leaned in close to Nendou, “Nope! I was busy looking at the other girls, but tell us!” 

Nendou chuckled at Kaidou’s enthusiastic reaction before glancing to the side, outstretching his arm and pointing at the waitress that was now approaching the table with the food in her hands. “There she is!”

‘Don’t point at her, you idiot!’ Saiki mentally insulted his friend but instinctively followed the guidance of the tip of his finger until his eyes landed on your shapely figure — accentuated by the nature of the maid outfit  — slowly heading toward his table, holding the coffee jelly and the plate of brownies in the same graceful way you did when he saw you through the window. 

The gleam of your gorgeous hair, the movement of your luscious lashes, the gentle bounce of your upper body, how your perfectly manicured nails clutched the base of the jelly glass; everything about what he was seeing made him believe that if/when he were to die, this would be his ideal first sight as he passed through the gates of heaven. 

Before he knew it, you had reached the table and placed his jelly down on the table, gently nudging it towards him, “One coffee jelly for the cute boy with antennas.” You mused, making Saiki’s heart flutter in a way he was unfamiliar with. Then, you placed the brownies in front of Kaidou and Nednou who sat opposite from Saiki, “And two brownies for the clowns.” 

If it wasn’t for the fact the pair of clowns were too busy leching over you in your maid outfit, they’d probably be curious as to your choice of words but luckily for both you and Saiki, they were way to entranced by your visible bra strap to care about the little nickname.

Saiki felt a light blush creep onto his face, which only got worse as you discretely sent him a playful wink before turning on your heels to stroll back to the kitchen, “If you need anything else, just give me a wave.” 

All of them hummed agreement in unison until the waitress was out of sight, giving Saiki a moment to process the events that had just went down. Not only did you refer to him as ‘the cute boy with antennas’ but you also winked at him, if that wasn’t a clear sign you were interested, what was? However, Saiki still had his doubts since this was a maid café after all, perhaps you were just trained to do that with all your customers.

Luckily, the had the foresight to slip off his germanium ring to read your mind and that helped him come to the conclusion that you were either interested in him or you were just very competitive as the whole time you were serving the table your thoughts were along the lines of;

‘I’ll adjust my skirt- Ha! You looked! Try resist falling for me now, you hot lil’ megane! Your heart is mine and I know it! See, I’ll fidget with my corset too-- just make a move already, pinkie!’

Although he didn’t appreciate being called ‘pinkie’, he had no right to judge what was going on in your brain. All he could do is be thankful that you didn’t say that aloud.

✿✿✿✿✿

You sighed as you noticed the pink-haired boy and his little posy exit the establishment without so much as a goodbye, or even a wave! 

It was disappointing as you had already mentally planned your future with this guy and he had the audacity to do the real life equivalent of leaving you on read. But oh well, it would be approximately a week until you developed a crush on a random customer that lasts for around 30 minutes and for the time being, you can focus on doing your job.

You glumly shuffled over to their table to gather their plates to be washed, then a piece of colourful paper attached to the empty jelly glass caught your eye. As you held up the glass to inspect it further, you realised that it was a sticky note with a message written on it in black ink and neat, cursive handwriting. It read:

‘Dearest waitress,

Thank you for the excellent service, we (myself) tipped accordingly.’

You hadn’t finished reading yet but you were curious as to what he meant by that, and apparently you service must’ve been exceptional as the writer had left a whole ¥2000 tip. That’s a huge addition to the demonia fund.  

Followed by this charming little message was an extra tip for you; the writer’s phone number! Meaning that this little sticky note was something you had to protect with your life..so you shoved it in your bra for safe-keeping. 

But not before taking a moment to giggle with delight at who the note was signed by, 

‘Sincerely, the hot lil’ megane (aka Kusuo Saiki)’ 

#saiki no psi nan #kusuo saiki x reader #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #the disastrous life of saiki k. #saiki k x reader #saiki x reader #saiki headcanons #saiki k headcanons #kusuo x reader #saiki kusou no psi nan #kusou saiki x reader #saiki fluff #saiki k fluff #saiki k oneshot

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock x Depressed!Reader - With a Little Help from My Friends - Words: 2,793

IMPORTANT A/N - PLEASE READ: As stated in the title, this story contains discussions of depression. There is mention of suicidal thought and self-harm. I personally don't think it's too intense in it's descriptions HOWEVER!!! If this will trigger you, for your own health and safety please do not read. My messages are always open if you'd like to talk. I wrote this partially based on my own feelings so I can understand to at least a degree. You're amazing and I love you all. As far as this story goes, just remember: it has a happy, very fluffy ending but it doesn't start that way. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to leave a comment!

Brief Backstory: Reader is friends with John and Sherlock. She is a nurse who works with John. The three met shortly after Sherlock came back. Sherlock and Reader have crushes on each other but won't admit to it. I think the story explains everything else.

"Y/N, I'm going to be honest," John said, putting his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. "I may have PTSD but I cannot fully put myself in your shoes. My depression is different than yours." You had called your best friend, John Watson, in a mild panic. You had been feeling depressed for some time, as he knew, but that day had been especially bad. There was no particular reason but your depression had gotten so intense that you knew you needed help to get past this particular wave. John invited you over to 221B, assuring you that his flatmate would be out for the next couple of hours. "As a doctor, I am going to prescribe you some medication. Lowest dose possible and only because I want to help you get some immediate relief but I know you do not want them to become permanent. Let's work on finding another solution for you, ok?"

"I don't know, John," you replied. You'd asked John to be your Doctor since you didn't go to one regularly and he didn't mind your irregular checkups. "I've tried just about everything. The only outlet that seems to help is writing and even then," you trailed off, trying not to cry again. "This feeling just won't go away and I don't even know why it's there in the first place. I just want it to stop."

"I think you should talk to Sherlock."

"What?" You squeaked. "Why in the world would I talk to Sherlock?"

"I can't tell you why, Y/N. As both your Doctor and Sherlock's, I have to respect certain amounts of patient confidentiality. However, as your friend, I think you should talk to him."

"I don't know."

"Trust me," He replied. Smirking slightly, he added, "Doctor's orders."

"Ok, John," you chuckled. He smiled and hugged you. "Thanks."

"Now how about we go and fill this prescription and then maybe get some ice cream?"

"Well, honestly," you sighed. "The ice cream sounds great but I didn't sleep well last night. I was actually wondering if I could just take a nap here for a bit. I sleep better here sometimes." You blushed but John nodded understandingly.

"Of course," He replied. "I'll run down to the drugstore and fill this for you. Meanwhile you get some rest. I'll let Sherlock know you're here just in case he ends up getting back before I do. Will you be ok by yourself?"

"Yeah," You smiled. "This is a safe space for me. I'll go grab a blanket. Thanks again."

"Don't mention it. Just remember, talk to him."

"I'll try."

About 15 minutes later, Sherlock arrived back at the flat. He'd gotten John's texts.

John: If you get home in the next 45 minutes, be quiet. Y/N is over and she's taking a nap. I have to run out for something.

Sherlock: Is everything ok? - SH

John: She said she had a bad night.

Sherlock: She must have had a reason to come over in the first place though. - SH

John: She's going to need to tell you that herself. Don't ask. Do you understand me? Let her tell you. Be nice, ok?

Sherlock: When am I not nice to Y/N? - SH

John: Ok, that is true. You like her too much to be rude to her. If you could just hold back your deductions for one second I will say this: you two have more in common than you think.

He hurried home, not to wake you up of course, but because he wanted to see you. If there was something seriously wrong, he wanted to try and brace himself for it first. He couldn't help the smile playing at the corner of his lips when he thought of you. You two were good friends, that much was obvious to everyone. But Sherlock could see the potential for something more. He liked you a lot. You were just as smart, sassy, and sarcastic as he was. But you also could be extremely kind and caring to others and especially to him. He still didn't quite understand why you cared for him so but he was grateful. Before he could dwell on that too much longer, he arrived at 221B.

He quietly slipped inside and smiled at what he saw. You were curled up on the couch, sleeping like a baby. Apparently, though, you'd kicked off the blanket you had grabbed. Instead of picking up the blanket, he decided to take off his long coat and carefully lay that over you. You quickly cuddled into the warm fabric, unconsciously taking a deep breath, inhaling his unique signature left behind on the coat. Satisfied with what he'd done, he took off his suit jacket and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea for when you woke up. He knew you had a favorite tea and, unless John moved it or drank it all, there still would be some in the cupboard.

You woke to the smell of your favorite tea and a hushed exclamation from the kitchen. Opening your eyes slowly you saw Sherlock in at the counter trying to set up a tray with the teapot and cups. Recognizing your surroundings a bit more, you realized what was on top of you. Sherlock was just about to bring out the tray but you decided to pretend you were still asleep. The chances of fooling the Detective were low, but you wanted to try.

"There," He whispered to himself, setting the tray on the coffee table. You could hear him settling down on his chair, likely getting into his 'palace pose' as you called it. For a moment you were happy. You had actually gotten some quality sleep, you were currently cuddled up in Sherlock's famous coat and Sherlock had even made you tea. But that feeling quickly faded. Tears threatened to spill out of your still closed eyes as self-deprecating thoughts filled your mind.

'John probably told him to make me tea. He probably covered me with his coat so I wasn't as much of a distraction. He doesn't want me here. He never does. Why does he even tolerate my presence? He probably wishes we'd never met,' You thought. Your mind was going a million miles an hour and gaining. Without your notice, the tears began rolling down your cheeks and quiet sobs escaped your lips.

"Y/N?" Sherlock whispered. You're eyes shot open. You hadn't heard him get up. Now he was kneeling right next to you, one hand hovering over your arm. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, Sherlock!" You cried. "I-I wish I knew."

"C'mere," he said, motioning for you to sit up. Once you did so, he pulled you into a tight hug.

"What's this for?"

"You always give me and John a hug when you see us. You haven't done so for the past 5 days. I-" he paused briefly before lowering his voice and continuing. "I missed it."

"Oh." You weren't quite sure how to reply to that. You leaned into his embrace, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

"Y/N? Is there something I can do to help?"

"How much did John tell you?" You asked. You wouldn't have been mad exactly if John had told Sherlock to talk to you, but you wanted to think Sherlock was reaching out on his own.

"He told me you had a bad night."

"That's all?" You asked, surprised. You pulled away slightly and stared into his eyes. Sherlock nodded, frowning slightly as he tried to deduce you.

"Why are you afraid to talk to me?" You turned away, embarrassed and unsure what to say. "Be honest."

"I don't want you to make fun of me. I have-" You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves and preparing to just jump right in. "I have been extremely depressed lately and I didn't want to hear another speech about how all I need to do is exercise and eat right and stop thinking about sad things. Well you know what? I can't stop it! I can't help it if I feel like a useless pile of trash that should be thrown in the bin and burned." By the time you finished your little tirade, you'd gotten up and started pacing the floor. Then you turned and faced Sherlock. His expression was neutral but there was an obvious sadness in his eyes, one you didn't expect to see. It wasn't of pity. If you had seen that you also would have given up on the conversation. No, it was almost an understanding, an empathy. His eyes were actually glistening with tears.

"Have you ever felt like," he paused, voice unsteady. "Like giving up?" He whispered, unable to hold eye contact. You nodded silently. He got up slowly and walked towards you. At first, you thought he would hug you again but then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Uh, Sherlock?"

"Just wait a moment. I want to show you something." He carefully shrugged off the purple shirt that you, admittedly, loved so much and tossed it on the chair. "Only one person knows about this. You will be the second. You remember I told you about Moriarty's network?"

"Yes, the day we met. I asked you about your work, a simple question. And I got an answer that lasted 3 hours." Sherlock chuckled dryly.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Oh, no. Please don't apologise. I-" You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "I tend to make jokes when I'm nervous."

"I know." He smiled at you with, yet again, a completely unreadable expression. "You remember though." You nodded, opting to stay silent as he explained. "Well, those 2 years dismantling his network weren't easy. Not physically and certainly not emotionally. As a result of the different missions, I received many wounds on my body in various locations. I was," He paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "I was depressed, guilt-stricken and suicidal. I figured I had hurt my friends enough. If they thought I was dead maybe I should just go on with it."

"What changed your mind?"

"I didn't want to do it on a mission. I wanted to see home again one more time. So to temporarily relieve the pain I," He sighed. Well, I wouldn't let my wounds heal. I'd pick at them. Mycroft finally convinced me to come back officially because he needed my help. I never told him about this. I think he knows but we don't discuss it." He looked down, obviously embarrassed and feeling more emotionally naked than physically. "You can look," he said. It was as if he'd read your mind. You were trying to be respectful and not stare but you realized that's what he wanted to show you. You had, on occasion, seen him shirtless before but you had never realized how bad some of the scars were.

"Sherlock, I-I don't know what to say. I-" You were completely shocked. Not offended. But actually comforted that he understood you. "Thank you," You finally said.

"Actually I wanted to thank you. I didn't just show you this to prove that I understand your feelings." You looked at him confused. "The day we met. You were leaving work, correct?" You nodded.

"It had been my first day there. John had been happy with my work and requested that I stay assigned to his office permanently. John had already finished up and headed home but there was some paperwork I had to finish so I was leaving about an hour late. Come to think of it, John said he had plans with you that evening. Why were you there?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you. I met you less than a month after I came back. I had still been quite depressed so I was still picking at my injuries. That day had been a bad day for me. So I cancelled my plans with John and I decided to go back to where I started this whole mess and finish it."

"Wait, are you telling me that-"

"You saved my life." Sherlock took one of your hands in his own and held it tightly. "I had memorized the work schedules of most everyone there and knew how to slip in unnoticed."

"But you didn't factor in me."

"Correct. When I ran into you, quite literally in fact, as I was entering the building, I was surprised. Not just by your presence but by what I deduced about you. You intrigued me. I had to find out more about you so I invited you to have a cup of coffee with me."

"Which turned into dinner." Sherlock nodded. "And since you were so intrigued by me, you forgot all about that."

"In a manner of speaking. You weren't a cure-all, mind you. You helped, though, by giving me a new mystery to investigate: you. That night, when I got home, I told John everything. He helped me too and when I mentioned you he couldn't stop singing your praises. He is very proud of you and your work you know."

"Yeah, I guess so," You replied, a little embarrassed. "Thank you, Sherlock. I'm sorry that you went through all that, but, I'm glad I have someone who understands. And I'm glad you're here to help me."

"Me too, Y/N. Me too," He replied.

"Can I, um, can I have another hug?" You asked, blushing and smiling. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"If you must," He sighed, holding his arms out. Any other day, you would have thought he genuinely didn't want personal contact. But today you realized he was simply teasing. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your head on his chest. You felt him relax as he leaned forward a little to cocoon you in his arms. "I care about you, Y/N. I don't care about many people but you mean so much to me. I-" You looked up at him and pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.

"You don't have to say it, Sherlock. I know." He smiled and looked somewhat relieved. You knew he wasn't good with feelings and that was fine with you. "I love you too."

"I wanted to be the first one to say that," He pouted. You chuckled softly and booped his nose.

"You already have." He smiled and kissed your forehead lightly.

"I know this won't fix everything right away. I know you'll still have bad days. But I wanted you to know you could come to me too."

"I know. Thank you again, Sherlock." At that moment, John walked in with a bag from the store.

"Oh, hello!" He chirped, happy to see you hadn't gotten into a yelling match. Then he noticed Sherlock's shirt, or rather, lack thereof. "So, uh," He stuttered, unsure of what to say. "What should I do with this?"

"First of all, thank you, John, for giving me the guts to talk to him about this. And second, I think I'll give it a try. You know, to try and prevent a really bad day when you guys aren't available or if talking still isn't enough. But for today I think I'll be alright," You said, turning to John with a smile.

"Well, I'm glad. So did you just talk about that or did he finally tell you that he's had the biggest schoolboy crush on you from the moment he met you?"

"John!" Sherlock yelled. You laughed loudly.

"Not in those words exactly, John," You replied. "Don't worry," You added, turning to Sherlock and ruffling his curls. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Good. Now if you don't mind, I need your input on this case."

"Me?" You asked, quite surprised.

"Yes," He said as if it was obvious. "You're a woman after all!"

"And that is important because?"

"The killer was a woman obviously but I can't understand why she would do it!" The two of you went off into your own little world, completely ignoring John as he cooked dinner.

John: Ok, mates, get your tuxs out. Won't be long now.

Greg: He finally proposed? 😀

John: Not yet, give it a week.

Mycroft: John, you forget I monitor his spending habits.

John: And?

Mycroft: He's had a ring purchased for some time now.

Greg: 3 days tops.💍

Mycroft: I would estimate about 3 days as well, Detective Inspector.

Greg: We're in a Group Text. Talking about our friend like a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party. I think you can call me Greg.

Mycroft: If I must.

John: So, girls, will you help me make the plans?

Mycroft: Of course. He is blood after all.

Greg: Count me in! Wouldn't miss it! 🕵️👰

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

@gaitwae

@for-hearthand-home

#sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock imagine #sherlock fanfic #sherlock x reader #sherlock x y/n #sherlock oneshot #depression #ptsd #mentions of torture #self harm discussion #potentially triggering #trigger warning #TW #anxiety #good friends #john watson #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade

[mino-diabolik]

Dusk blanketed the city as thousands of middle-class workers fled back home in a rush to relax and the sun, orange as flame, descended into the horizon, leaving a hypnotizing hue of purple and scarlet in its wake amidst the sea of clouds above. A young boy with black obsidian hair and eyes blue like the ocean wandered the streets in a confused and fearful state, puzzled by the many modern inventions that would come after his time yet knowing full well the sky indicated suppertime would be soon, much to his chagrin.

“Good grief, what is this place? It’s… it’s far too different from home!” The boy exclaimed dramatically. “Oh, I miss Mother… and Father, too. This is absolutely preposterous.”

Turning a corner, Ruki proceeded into the mysterious city only to be greeted by a much taller man, hair as dark as his, although his mismatched eyes would’ve struck wonder in any aristocratic boy unfamiliar with rare mutations. They almost bumped into each other, but instinctively the child halted in his tracks, even taking a step backwards out of caution.

“Pardon me…” Unsure of how to address the other based on his foreign-looking attire, the boy simply stared at Mystic in awe. “I’m lost and I’ve no idea which direction my home is in. You see, I was just in the middle of tending to my studies as per usual when I found myself in this reverie of a place,” he sighed. “Tell me at once where we are located.”

Mystic had been idly strolling down the rather empty street, reading through the unnecessarily detailed instructions for his itinerary the following day on his text chat with his boss. He finished up his drink and was about to toss it over to a bin settled outside of a shop—never lifting his eyes off the screen of his cellular mobile—when he caught a glimpse of a small shape on his peripheral vision. The Founder slammed his foot down and stopped.

“Sorry,” Mystic mumbled instinctively at the same time the young boy voiced his apologies.

He looked up and glanced around in search of any guardian that might’ve been the carer for the child. He quickly realized no adult came rushing to his side to either apologize for their almost collision or to take him in hand. The boy was dressed rather nicely—even his speech mannerism was better than his—so it was odd that no one may have been accompanying him.

Mystic hummed, squatting down to the boy’s height. “That’s… well, we’re in Kaminashi City,” he responded. “The city’s center is a couple of blocks away from here but I don’t think going there would be very helpful. There’re too many people and you could get lost. Even I get lost sometimes…”

He rested his chin on his hands and sighed. It was way too late at night for a child to be out on their own. There weren’t supposed to be any daycares, or even schools around that area of the city so Mystic couldn’t figure out just how far out this kid had managed to sneak away and get lost.

Mystic was quiet for a moment, staring intently at the boy’s features. His eyes, to be exact. There was something awfully familiar about them…

“Do you know your parents’ phone number? I could tell them where you are and so they can come pick you up,” he said, tilting his head. He had to keep his cool. Otherwise, he’d end up freaking out the kid more than they already were. “I can also take you to your house if you remember the address, but I’m not sure if you’d be okay with that.”

#((🤲😔✨✨✨ #mystic tsukinami #ruki mukami #rp #interaction

[tripleaxeldiaz]

you’re my living proof my love is alive

for @eddiediaz HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY <33

read on ao3

“Did you ever think we’d get here?”

Eddie opens his eyes, the shade of the tree they’re under saving him from an assault of sunlight. He’d been dozing off and on, lulled by the warm day and the soft breeze and Buck’s fingers raking through his hair where his head rested on his lap. But something about Buck’s voice — not a sadness, not an edge, but something — wakes him up fully, and he rolls onto his back to look up at Buck’s face. He follows where Buck’s eyes have landed — on their family, spread out around them, absorbed in their own conversations while kids flit in and around them like over excited butterflies. He’s looking at them wistfully and in some sort of awe, and Eddie waits for him to elaborate.

“To the park?” he asks slowly when it looks like an explanation isn’t coming. “It’s like a 10 minute drive from our house.”

Buck tugs his ear, fighting and losing to the smile spreading on his face. “No, asshole. I mean all of this. Our family. You and me. Did you ever imagine we’d get a life like this?”

The breeze seems to blow a little cooler as Eddie takes that in, because honestly? No. All of this, the joy that he’s found here, is brighter and better than anything he ever let himself dream about.

And it’s not that he never thought he’d be happy or filled with some kind of lightness. It just wasn’t a priority — not when he had a team to lead or a marriage to try and fail to fix or a kid to take care of on his own. Everything and everyone else came first because those were things he could handle, tangible things with some kind of concrete solutions, the direct opposite of the amorphous, unreachable discomfort that always seemed to sit right at the base of his skull. And there were moments of joy, especially with Christopher — his smile, his laugh, the way he lit up at any opportunity to learn something new. Those were good moments, great moments, and Eddie treasured all of them, locking them up tight in his heart because they were sometimes the only things that got him through the day.

But still. No matter what, at the end of the day, he’d find himself in bed, surrounded by silence, fighting off the aching loneliness that grew stronger as the sun went down. Only then would he let himself indulge — he’d imagine a dip in the mattress next to him, warm skin begging for his touch, craving that feeling of being wanted by someone else despite the demons and nightmares that still haunted him.

He doesn’t really know if it made the loneliness better or worse.

Moving to LA helped — a fresh start for both of them, more opportunities, no one hovering over his every move waiting to swoop in the minute he made a mistake. He felt lighter, excited even, like maybe now things would actually turn around for him, like maybe he was ready to fill that space that sat in his heart. Maybe Shannon coming back was a sign that she was supposed to fill it the whole time, just like he thought when they were 19.

But then she left, permanently, just as quickly as she came, and suddenly he wasn’t sure of anything his heart or soul was telling him anymore.

So he threw himself back into what he knew best — being there for everyone else. Whether at work or with Chris, his focus was solely on the outside, ignoring any pangs of longing or indulgences because they didn’t matter. A person could only survive so many broken hearts in their lives, and he’s certain that watching the life fade out of Shannon’s eyes with no way of stopping it was the last one he’d be able to handle. It wasn’t a waste, this focusing on other people, and he wasn’t unhappy — how could he be when he had the best kid, the best friend, the best family that he’d cobbled together for himself, that had saved him time and again without even knowing it?

The loneliness lingered, though. It wrestled with the fear he felt so hard sometimes it blew the breath right out of his lungs. He thought he did an okay job of hiding it until Bobby sat him down and told him it was okay to move on, that it was okay to want to let someone in, to not carry the burdens on his own anymore. And he knew that, rationally, but that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that in the moments when his resolve cracked, his indulgences were no longer faceless. They had broad shoulders and strong arms, a halo of curls and eyes so blue they put the ocean to shame. 

The problem was that this person was real and solid, an unshakeable presence in his and Chris’ world who smoothed out creases and stitched up tears in a way that was helpful, not in a way that made Eddie feel guilty for letting things get creased in the first place.

The problem was that the person his stupid, lonely heart had let in, without his consent, without him even noticing, was the person he knew would shatter his heart into a billion, unrepairable pieces if he ever lost him. 

So he settled instead. 

He found someone who was nice and low maintenance and good with Chris and it was enough. Or almost enough. Or as close to enough as he felt he deserved.

He feels another tug at his ear. “Did I lose you? Pretty sure your eyes just glazed over for like two minutes.”

Nothing he does gets past Buck, that’s for sure, and the knowledge of that warms him better than the sunshine. He reaches up and threads their fingers together, kissing the back of Buck’s hand before resting both on his chest, over his heart. He sighs, eyes slipping closed again. “Sorry. Zoned out for a second.”

“And forgot my question,” Buck says, squeezing his hand. “So did you? Imagine this? Or something like it, I guess.”

He’s better with words than he used to be, can be straightforward with his feelings without breaking out into a cold sweat. But still, these words stick, because years and countless therapy sessions later, he knows exactly how deep the darkness went back then, and he hates thinking about it. Hates remembering the full body ache of loneliness, how dull and bleak it made everything seem.

But also, he can’t — won’t — lie to Buck, and he’s warm enough now, surrounded by sunlight and laughter and Buck’s hand on his chest, that he’s not worried about being pulled under again.

“No,” he finally says. “I didn’t let myself think about anything like this for a really long time. But when I finally did, it was never as good as the real thing.”

Buck hums but doesn’t say anything else. He traces carefully over Eddie’s knuckles and the back of his hand, and Eddie almost falls asleep again. 

“What changed your mind?” Eddie opens his eyes and Buck’s looking down at him now, an intense curiosity in his eyes, like he was just cycling through everything he knows about Eddie trying to figure out what made him believe in love again.

Knowing Buck, he probably was.

Eddie’s happy to save him the trouble. “I got shot,” he says simply, and Buck’s hand finally stills. Eddie reaches up, cupping Buck’s cheek, relishing in the way he automatically leans into his palm.

“I got shot,” he says again, “and you saved me, in every way you possibly could.”

It’s true — it wasn’t the first time a bullet had found a path through him, or even the first time he’d seen his life flash before his eyes. But as he lay there in the street, hot asphalt underneath him, weaker by the second, the only things running through his head were Chris and Buck and ChrisandBuck, and his only regret was that Buck didn’t know — about his guardianship of Chris, about how he made Eddie feel something like hopeful for the first time in years, any of it.

As his vision blacked out, Buck’s face streaked with blood and panic was the last thing he saw, and he vowed to make sure Buck knew everything if he made it out of this.

Of course, nothing is ever that easy. 

After he woke up, with Buck’s name on his lips but Ana’s hand in his, everything became a waiting game. 

He waited for Buck to show up at the hospital, out of breath but still so dazzling, his very presence making Eddie feel like he could run a marathon right then. 

He waited for them to finally be alone so they could talk, but only got through telling him about the guardianship before Buck got a text from Taylor that made him smile so softly the rest of Eddie’s speech died in his throat. 

He waited to break it off with Ana long enough that he didn’t seem like a jackass, waited as Buck and Taylor flew higher and higher before crashing, waited for days and weeks and months, waited, waited, waited. 

But it didn’t hurt. All that time, it wasn’t excruciating, it didn't feel like a waste, because he knew from the minute he woke up that he was waiting for something. He could feel the anticipation burning up inside him, and it wasn’t going to be for nothing this time. 

Finally, finally, just as naturally as they had fallen into each other’s lives the first time, they fell together again — in the dim light of Eddie’s kitchen, empty beer bottles and raw, unfiltered words between them, reliving the day they hadn’t been able to talk to each other about for the past nine months. Eddie’s hands shook and Buck took them in his and Eddie knew this was his moment. 

He looked Buck dead in the eye and said, “You’re the reason I’m sitting here right now, and I’m in love with you.”

The evening air crackled in the silence, and neither of them moved. Eddie was pretty sure even his blood had stopped flowing as he waited, until suddenly everything snapped. 

Suddenly they were both leaning in, suddenly they were kissing and whispering I love yous soft and desperate across each other’s skin.

Suddenly everything began.

He shakes his head a bit as he comes back to the present. Buck doesn’t say anything this time, just smiles and kisses the center of Eddie’s palm where it’s still resting on his cheek, tangles their fingers together again before placing them back on Eddie’s chest. 

“You saved me too, you know,” Buck says quietly. “I wasn’t the one who got shot, but still, you did. You always do.”

“Always will,” Eddie says, because it’s true, and the easiest promise he’s ever made. Buck is his hope, his light in the dark, every other cheesy cliche, and Eddie will work for the rest of his life to make sure Buck feels safe and loved. It’s the least he could do for all that Buck has given him.

They lapse back into quiet, enjoying the sounds of the park and their family, and Eddie feels something he's been too afraid to name until now, a holdout from years of guarding himself.

He’s happy. Truly, with no caveats or strings attached, unbelievably happy. 

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #IT'S MY WIFE'S BDAY ALL THE EDDIE EMOTIONS FOR HER #ficcery

[fatiguing-thoughts]

Chaotic Imprint - Pack Preference

Request: “Hey hey!! Can I have a preference for the pack having a younger kinda chaotic platonic imprint? 👀”

  I kinda changed it up a little bit, I didn’t make the reader younger as I always age the pack up a bit in my writing and I just wanted to keep it general. 

Jacob: 

Jacob and you vibe well. He has his moments where he can match your chaotic energy, but overall is always worried that you’ll end up in a ditch or something. Overall, he will always end up agreeing as long as it makes you happy, so long as you’re safe in the end. Just like that time where you asked him to cliff jump with you on his back. 

“Yeah, it’s very reckless, dangerous even. But when do you wanna go?” He asks with a smile on his face.

“Uh, right now?” An ear to ear grin plasters itself across your face. 

“Let’s get going, you better hold on tight.” 

He’s just happy to see you happy, especially if he’s able to be the one to put the smile on your face. 

Seth: 

Seth is known to be the soft, nice guy-- though he’s definitely one of the most playful people you know. He’s always down to go have some fun. Like Jacob, he’s willing to do anything to put a smile on your face. At first, he was a little worried about how disorderly and random your actions and speech were, but over time he understood it more. Eventually, he just stopped questioning a lot of your ideas and just went along with them, hoping for the best. 

“What if we tried to make an entirely new language… but only we get to know it?” You ask randomly at 3 in the morning, waking up Seth to do so.

“What? Right now? It’s three am, (Y/N).” 

“When else? Now’s the perfect time, my mind has been racing!” 

So that’s the only way you talked for the next few days, Seth was the token translator. It took you hours that night to make a language that worked for the both of you. 

Leah: 

She had grown to be more open to new things and had a lot more fun since you came around. Leah was always down to follow your ideas, whether that meant you randomly calling her at 3 am to go for a drive to god knows where or if you wanted to show her something new and exciting. Though, she knew where to draw the line-- she was the voice of reason that you needed.

“(Y/N), maybe you should really think about this, is it really a good idea?” 

“But I don’t care if it’s a good idea, I’m curious!”

“Okay let me rephrase that-- it’s a horrible idea. I did the thinking for you, we aren’t doing it.” 

“But Leah…” 

“No, we are not going to see how long it takes for you to go into anaphylactic shock. I don’t care if you have your epipen with you.”

“Jared and I thought it was a fun idea.” 

“Jared? Where’s Jared?” She asks, narrowing her eyes. 

And just like that, she’s always what stops you from letting your really stupid ideas from coming to life, even if Jared encourages you anyway; but he usually gets his ass kicked for that. 

Paul: 

Paul is a lot of fun, there’s nothing to argue with there. But sometimes, he might not think your ideas are as great or fun as you think. When he knows it’s something that’ll end poorly or get you hurt, he says that he doesn’t think you guys should do it and that he won’t help you or come with. 

“(Y/N), I think this might be too much. Let’s maybe do something else.” 

“Alright.” You sigh, sending a text on your phone.

“Are you talking to Quil and Jared?” 

“What?”

“Fine. I’ll do it.” 

“What? You just said…” 

“Nope, let’s go. We’ll do it.” 

He often just wants to make sure you’re safe and that he’s there to diffuse any situation. Uncertainty doesn’t sit with him well. Also, let’s face it-- Paul doesn’t share well. He’d rather suck it up and do whatever it is with you before you go do it with Jared and Quil instead. 

Embry: 

Embry and you have a ton of fun. Always down for a random adventure. Random calls in the middle of the night to go out and have some fun.You spend a lot of time working on dirtbikes and taking them out for random trips. Overall, you spend a lot of your time together doing urban exploring, or as some may call it: trespassing in random abandoned buildings. You take pictures of each other doing crazy stuff, climbing onto things that definitely shouldn’t be climbed on. Due to his overall indestructibility and accelerated healing, he’s always the first one to try something to make sure it’s safe for you.

“Let’s climb onto the roof.” 

“We’d have to scale the building.” 

“Great thinking, how do we go about that?” 

“I don’t know. Get on my back and I’ll try to figure it out.” 

Quil: 

Quil is absolutely thrilled that you’re on the chaotic side. He loves that you can keep up with him and that you guys could always have a lot of fun. You want to go mess with the guys? He’s down and he’s prepared to up the ante. He wants to go do something stupid? You’re down and ready to go nuts. You often go out and pull pranks on the rest of the pack. Just the other day you two decided to replace the Sunny D in Jared’s fridge with watered down kraft mac n cheese powder. Let’s just say, Jared chugged a lot before noticing, and Quil ended the day with a broken arm. 

“I’m sorry you have a broken arm.” 

“It’s alright, broken arms aren’t forever. They only last a day or so.” 

“You really take advantage of that accelerated healing, don’t ya bud?” 

“You bet. What’re we doing next?” 

“Let’s get Paul.” 

“I like the way you think.”  

Jared: 

As one would assume, your guys’ energy bounces off one another like no tomorrow. You guys are an unstoppable force. Jared and you get along so well, always down for whatever shenanigan the other has planned, down to do whatever, whenever. Sam often has to step in and make sure nobody burns the house down. It’s one of those things where often enough, the pack doesn’t trust either of you to ever get anything done without breaking something else in the process. You tried to cook dinner together the other night, almost setting the entire kitchen on fire when you couldn’t stop messing around in the kitchen, spilling oil next to the stove. 

“Don’t tell Sam!” His eyes widen, cleaning up the oil and spraying the fire extinguisher.

“Don’t tell Sam what?” Sam asks, walking in, before turning right back around and walking straight out of the house.

“Fixed it.” He triumphantly states with an enormous smile on his face, fire extinguisher residue taking over the entire kitchen. 

Sam: 

Sam is the dad friend, so it’s to no surprise that your chaotic energy is something that keeps him on edge. Despite him being used to the chaotic energy he deals with on a daily basis from the pack, he knows you’re not indestructible. He’s always trying to keep you grounded, but he does let you have your fun. Safety is his top priority, but understands that you’re going to have fun and he’s always there to have fun with you. Sam began to help you come up with and perform more tame and harmless pranks. Like today, we decided to move every piece of furniture three inches to the left and watched the rest of the pack enter the house very confused and a bit off balance. 

“Something feels… off.” Quil says, cautiously sitting down. 

“I don’t understand.” Jared says, tripping over the table that wasn’t normally there.

“How bizarre.” Sam says. 

“Yeah, how bizarre.” I look at him with a smirk. 

#jacob black #seth clearwater #leah clearwater #paul lahote #embry call #Quil Ateara #jared cameron #sam uley #wolf pack x reader #jacob black x reader #seth clearwater x reader #paul lahote x reader #embry call x reader #quil ateara x reader #jared cameron x reader #sam uley x reader #leah clearwater x reader #twilight

[meichenxi]

Hey, could I ask you how you do shadowing? Like the different ways you do it? You mentioned in your tag that shadowing is good and I'd love to hear how you do it! I do not attempt shadowing much so I don't really know what helps, etc. ToT (my studyblr is rigelmejo)

Hellooo! Thank you for the interesting question!

Tbh I think I do it fairly basically - I don’t use any particularly fancy software, but software like Language Learning with Netflix has certainly made it easier. There’s a whole video on how to get the most of it here: [on mobile, link didn't work - How to study Chinese with Netflix! by Chinese Zero To Hero] (I’d recommend checking out all of their videos actually, they’ve done a bunch of livestreams recently and they place a lot of emphasis on shadowing + the course they are trying to sell you is…actually phenomenally good)

(Also, I have to preface this by saying that I have been very lucky in terms of pronunciation: I learnt about 80% of my current vocabulary by ear without characters or pinyin. I have been in China for eight months in total, and while I didn’t speak Chinese for all of that, I was constantly soaking in info on natural sentence intonation. I still often don’t know officially what the tone of a vocabulary item is, especially if it changes tone like 教, 为 or 相, but I don’t get yelled at so I have definitely internalised a lot of those changes. I definitely would have more trouble with this if I hadn’t had that experience - my other areas are waaaay weaker because of this though- my reading SUCKS lmao and I can literally handwrite about ten characters)

Anyway. How I shadow:

1) Quite simply by playing the line, and repeating it with all the emotion it has!! I usually use Netflix or Viki for this. I try to do it as fast as possible, and if I can’t do the whole thing, I ‘chunk’ it: if I were doing the sentence 我们还不知道他会不会来, I would start from the end with 他会不会来, then 不知道他会不会来, and then the whole sentence. Notice that this isn’t breaking it down into words or even grammatical phrases, but intonational phrases: it would be perfectly sensible to just do 会不会来 without the 他 but realistically, since this is a question, it’s likely that a strong stress will be placed on the first 会, and you wouldn’t be able to replicate that without also included the more weakly stressed syllable before.

2) I locate (intentionally or subconsciously) the main locus of stress within the sentence, and I focus on that accordingly. Tones may become less extreme if they are not stressed, and may become more exaggerated if stressed. This is always a good exercise. I accompany this with physical actions - I throw my hands down, I sigh, I groan!

3) I put away the text, and don’t look at the tones or even my computer screen - more on this below.

4) Finally, when I think I’ve got it reasonably accurate, I’ll record them speaking the line into my phone with an appropriate pause for copying and play it back to myself at various points throughout the day.

5) I then go and find other words with the same tone contour to slot in, and copy it again. After that, I find words that are slightly different tonally and pop them in too.

6) I finally do fun things like hold a conversation with myself. This can be really simple phrases imbued with some kind of emotion - 这个女子到底是谁呀？为什么不认识我？应该是新手吧。You can do this either really informally, or very formally, or both - trying to speak in the latter way is very fun! So then it’d be idk something more like: 那位姑娘是何人，来自何处？This is fun because you can really slow down your speech and sound as elegant as you like!! (this will sound stilted if you do it for modern speech, but it’s a very fun exercise)

Choosing your media!!

1) Don’t use donghuas. Seriously. The voice actors usually speak at a ridiculous pace and not with the same range of ‘normal’ intonation

2) Your Chinese is definitely good enough to recognise when anyone is quoting poetry or speaking in a paricularly sexy literary way so, uh…don’t do that. That rules dramas like Nirvana in Fire OUT.

3) Modern dramas and reality TV shows CAN be great, but they can also be quite intimidatingly quick and almost too mushy at times. I’d recommend informal speech in guzhuang dramas more, because they have professional voice actors and extensive sound editing, meaning that although it might be fast and the vocabulary harder, it’s actually much more accessible and easier to copy. You don’t want to be stuck with the awfulness of 50% failed foreigner and 50% 12 year old boy who can’t enunciate properly!!

4) CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON WISELY. I try to find characters that speak in a dramatic, whiny or childish way. This is so important! There’s literally no use copying Lan Wangji unless you want to be able to have that particular cadence and tone of voice you get reciting poetry. Childish/whiny/dramatic characters on the other hand stress some words very strongly, and rush others together - this is great for hearing what actual real speech sounds like. Whininess wins. In The Untamed, characters like Wei Wuxian (not yllz!wwx but just…regular wwx), 一问三不知 Nie Huaisang, Jin Ling, and Jingyi are all great. Also Jiggy, who is just very extra constantly and speaks much slower as well, which really helps. In SHL characters like Gu Xiang are good.

5) CHOOSE YOUR VOICE WISELY! If you are really aiming to copy them 100% (which you should try at least sometimes), you want somebody with your pitch range to sound normal. I have a sort of party trick in Chinese that because I’ve spent so much time listening to women in guzhuang dramas I can change my voice and sound like a) a scheming concubine with honeyed words, or b) the voice of the Beijing metro. My teacher found it hysterically funny. But it’s not my natural voice, and if I speak like that for too long it hurts. The women usually are too high for me, and the big burly manly men too low - so I’d recommend finding a man with a higher voice, or an older woman (like some of the female characters in Nirvana in Fire). Again, sorry that this is mostly the Untamed (I’m just most familiar with it) but the voice actors for Wei Wuxian and some of the juniors (+jiggy) has a higher voice. Likewise Chengling in Word of Honour.

On intonation in general:

- The thing is that whilst shadowing is useful it requires prior ability in a whole bunch of other skills that you can train - it relies on your ability to accurately mimic pitch, emotion and other contrasts. Training this in ANY language, including your native one, will help your ability to do this in Chinese - so I’d recommend spending a fair amount of time practicing shadowing (or speaking just after somebody whilst listening to a string of text, like monolingual simultaneous interpreting) in your native language too. Any training copying accents or mimicking other people is going to similarly help, regardless of the language.

So, with that in mind, further tips:

1) Hum / try to copy the intonation without any words. What this does is force you to pay attention to what the intonation actually is, versus what you may think it should be.

2) Don’t look at the text! Do! Not! Look! At! The! Text! If you look at the characters or pinyin you’re telling yourself ‘ok this is a third tone here’ etc, but you want to override the part of your brain that has gotten into bad habits and is supremely self-confident in how you’re pronouncing the third tone, and actually just go straight back to mimicking.

3) Don’t be afraid to do it with vocabulary that is way beyond your level. Actually, I find this can sometimes be helpful, because you don’t have a prior idea about how a particular tone pair should be useful - and you don’t know which tone you should be producing.

4) Learn vocabulary by ear - listen to a vocab podcast or even make one yourself (I often do this; I record my daily Anki and listen back to it through headphones copying throughout the day - if you’re not confident in your pronunciation you can get Google Translate to do it). Similarly, pick unknown vocabulary out of a longer segment and remember it, trying to internalise the tones instead of figuring out which tone it is.

5) Find emotional sentences, and copy them with emotion. This is SO CRUCIAL!!! We remember things when we relate to them, and when we imbue them with emotion - and it also helps in hearing exactly how an angry second tone sounds, for instance.

6) When you’re copying, look up, and imagine you are having an actual conversation. Carry yourself with conviction and poise!! Really try to whine like wwx or slime like jgy. After a couple of turns copying them, try to turn off the audio and keep delivering it in the same manner.

7) Swap individual words out. Once you have a line properly figured out, swap a word or two that has a different tone pair, and focus on delivering it with the same pattern of stress.

8) Finally, practice doing this in your native language too!! It’s a skill that we don’t use often, and it can be trained. Some people are terrible at it at first go even in their native language, but you can work on it!

About intonation in general:

1) I think a lot of pronunciation problems with people sounding unnatural or stiff ultimately come down to a fundamental misunderstanding of what intonation looks like across different languages. In English we mark it by pitch: and we are so used to the rhetoric that Chinese has ‘tone’ and not ‘intonation’ that we try and focus on blindly copying every single word textbook perfect without listening to how it actually sounds.

2) Chinese does have intonation!!! Except that, unlike English, when you stress a word, the pitch doesn’t change, but the tone contour is exaggerated - basically the only time you will ever hear a full third tone is in isolated or very exaggerated speech. If you have a Chinese friend, get them to record a sentence like the English ‘I didn’t ask her to steal his rucksack’, and put stress on the different elements of it - I didn’t ask, I didn’t ask, I didn’t ask, and so on. Notice and copy how the tones change. When shadowing, you should always be paying attention to where the stress is in the sentence: when you speak by yourself, practicing saying a sentence neutrally, and then with stress on one component, the next, and so on. If it feels unnatural, it’s because you might not have practicised like this before - it’ll get better!

Hope that’s somewhat helpful / interesting!

- 梅晨曦

#chinese #chinese langblr #langblr #chinese studyblr #studyblr #learn chinese #study chinese #chinese vocab #lingblr #askies

[astral-glass]

Random TF2 Headcanon Post for y’all part 2: electric boogaloo

( these are larger blocks of text bc I wanted to go in depth sorry )

- While Engie is outwardly more of the dad-type, Heavy is the subtle dad-friend. After escaping the Gulag and losing his father, Misha ended up taking a parental role for his younger sisters and grew up much too fast. Those protective instincts drive him. He watches out for his teammates without them noticing at times, and his advice is always down to earth and practical. You could say his core is a bit softer.

- Because of Spy’s sneaky and observant nature (and the fact that he’s away from most of the fray on the field), he has incredibly sensitive hearing. He tends to notice different sounds before the others, and is very good at picking up hushed whispers. While his masks help him speak in different voices, he is naturally very good at picking up on different accents and speech quirks (he can turn the french off real quick).

- When Demoman is making bombs, he refuses to let anyone into his room (he has a mini makeshift lab in there). Ever since he killed his foster parents, and then later lost his father, Tavish has been terrified of loss. Specifically hurting those he cares about. While he’s usually too drunk to think about it (intentionally), he really cares for the team and gets attached to others quickly. No one is allowed in during chemistry time, just in case he makes another mistake.

- Sniper’s mum taught him to knit when he was a young teen. While it’s a very subdued skill of his, he finds that knitting is a great way to calm nerves. The continuous motion gives him something to focus on, and the end point includes a product. He’s considered making gifts for the mercs he’s closest too on occasion, but has always chickened out. He wants it to be a secret, just for him and his mum.

- Every morning, after his roll call and wake up march, Soldier goes to each teammate individually and asks them for a ‘report’. This translates to asking them how they are, if they slept well, if they noticed any suspicious behavior he should know about. While this originally was to make sure his fellow Americans were doing as they should, it has become him grinning ear to ear as his teammates tell him about their dreams, how much their back hurt them that night, or how they would kill for some good bacon right around then. : )

-  Medic doesn’t play his violin very often, but he usually pulls it out when he needs a moment to break away from his thoughts or experiments. He learned to play as a child and has grown to be quite the musician. When he listens to music, or makes it, his mind is completely taken by it and his thoughts come to a halt. Not only is this good for refreshing the mind, but he also tends to lose his train of thought or stop mid sentence if he hears good music.

- Scout LOVES comics, and one of his favorite heroes is spiderman. He sees Aunt May like his ma, and relates to having to grow up and live without a father figure (or so he thinks ). He loves how genuine Peter Parker is, and how smart he is too. He sometimes practices hanging from bars and walls by his legs so he can spiderman kiss some hot chick someday.

- Speaking of comics, Scout loves talking about them as he does reading them! Scout tends to get very attached to his interests, and will gush for hours about stories he loves if you let him. Anyone who’s given Scout the chance to ramble immediately gets +100 friendship points.

- Ever since Engie lost his right hand (or cut it off), he became much more fond of holding hands. With only one of his own, he doesn’t feel his other hand and therefore doesn’t have that sensation anymore. It’s a small thing he didn’t consider when losing it, but he enjoys the feeling of someone else’s. On that note, Engineer is known for having a very gentle hand.

#tf2 #Team Fortress 2 #headcanons #I bolded the merc these were about to make them easier to navigate #sorry they're so chunky I just......have to share all my thoughts or I'll die

[realcube]

LEAVING MIDORIYA

part one (nsfw) | part two 

tw// mentions of toxic relationships, drinking & mention of a bombing

honestly, if you were given enough time you probably could’ve figured it out on your own — without the assistance of a psychiatrist — but exactly one appointment later, you were left with the disheartening realisation that you weren’t having ‘bad dreams’ and the marks on your body weren’t inflicted by yourself during slumber. eventually, the fact set in that it was your sweet, gentle fiancée who was the cause of all these things. 

this whole time, you were under the impression that you were the problem, that there was a malicious part of you that wanted to paint deku out to be some sort of villain; and now you were finally made aware that a villain is exactly what he is. 

it was a hard conclusion to come to but the initial wave of relief you felt was enough to make you act on it quickly, as the more you waited around and let the fact sink in, the more you doubted whether or not to take action. but reasoning isn’t what you need right now, you just need to get away from him. 

where will you go? you had no idea, but any where away from him is good enough. 

midoriya didn’t even get enough time to try fill your head with even more lies. you came marching into the apartment with the intention of ignoring everything he says and simply pack your stuff so you can leave. no matter how much he screamed, begged or yelled, it was like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall hence he eventually gave in, leaving you to collect your things in peace as there was clearly no way he was going to get through to you. 

you left without another word — not even a goodbye — and you were sure to sneak your engagement ring out with you. although it made you sick to look at, realistically you might need the cash since as soon as you stepped outside your shared apartment with your shit in bags, you were officially homeless. 

no need to worry though, you had arranged to stay the night at a friend’s house until tomorrow morning, then you could catch the train to your parent’s. from there, you’d stay with them until you manage to find a new apartment within your price range. 

one problem; your friend just texted you saying that they have to retract their offer because their landlord doesn’t allow over two people to sleep in the same dorm, and they already have a roommate. very unfortunate but hey, what can you do? plus, they apologised and offered to pay for your hotel but you reassured them that their money wouldn’t be necessary. 

now sitting outside your old apartment complex, scrolling through your phone looking for the nearest hotel. since both you and deku were well-paid pro-heroes and bought a penthouse in a rather affluent area, it was no surprise that most of the hotels that were reasonably close were from 4-5 stars.

although a 5-star hotel room for one night really wasn’t necessary, the post-breakup adrenaline was telling you otherwise. it also told you that treating yourself to a shopping spree, getting wine drunk at a bar and then shuffling back to the hotel with mcdonald’s take-out was a great idea! 

those emotional discussions you had with complete strangers must’ve really gotten to you because when you opened your front camera to take some pictures, you immediately grimaced at the sight of your mascara staining your cheeks. you were lazing around in the hotel lobby surrounded by name brand gift bags — waiting for your room key — looking like that? how embarrassing. 

quickly wiping away your tears, you put on a pair of designer sunglasses you brought earlier to shield your smudged eye-makeup from the world. not that you cared what anyone in this damn lobby thought of you anyway, you were only going to be here for one night, after that you would never see most of these people again. or at least, that is what you thought.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw flashing lights which prompted you to take out your earbuds but once you did, you instantly regretted it as all you heard was screaming and yelling from the entrance. looking up, you noticed an average-looking guy wearing a skull tank top resembling the fashion sense of a middle schooler, being followed by a mob of screaming fans, paparazzi and gossip channel reporters. 

“dynamight! thank you for everything!”

“you deserve to be number one!” 

“we are here at scene, pro-hero dynamight has just been seen entering what appears to be his five star accommodation, wearing his signature blac--”

the loud noises were suddenly muffled as the doorman shut the entrance behind him, leaving things just as they were, except now there was a muscular blond man encircled by bodyguards staring daggers at you.

in any other situation, you would’ve just tried your best to ignore him but some of that liquid courage was beginning to get to you, so your reaction was to snarl right back at him, yelling across the hall, “take a picture, why don’t ya? it’ll last longer.”

only upon processing your reply did the man finally snap out of his trance and storm up to, being hastily followed by his guards who looked as though they were ready to throw down at any given moment, so of course you cowered back in your seat, apologies waiting on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill until his face was hovering centimetres away from yours. 

your throat ran dry at his unexpected action, your eyes scanning over his chiselled features through the tint of your glasses. in a turn of events, you were now the one speechlessly staring at him. then, a deep chuckle erupted from his throat, causing the shock to show on your expression. 

“i knew i recognised you! you’re stupid deku’s girlfriend- fiancée or whatever; i saw the invite for your wedding in my mail and i just got a look at your face before i threw it away. small world.” the blond continued to laugh, talking to you as if you were an old friend of his despite the fact you’ve never seen him before in your life, “anyway, you like a hot fuckin’ mess. where’s deku?” 

why was he talking to you so casually? and how dare he say that!

“first of all,” you started, peering over your glasses to gaze at his face without the rose tint but to no avail, you still had no idea who this man is. using the soles of your palm, you pushed him away by the shoulders as he was a bit too close for comfort, but that resulted in all his guard looking at you with murderous glints in their eyes. “deku and i broke up--”

“when?” he cut you off

“let me finish.” you glared at him, fixing your sunglasses, “we broke up this morning. secondly, who the fuck are you?”

the man looked like he was ready to burst out laughing once again until he had a visible realisation, “eh, well, we’ve never met before but i’m sure deku has told you about me. if not, you’ve probably seen me in the news; i saved around a thousa--”

“no, i’ve not watched the news for, like, the past six months.” this time, you cut him off with a mischievous smirk which you tried your best to conceal.

“bitch! let me fuckin’ finish!” he barked, then had a sudden change in demeanour as he let out a sigh, momentarily silent as he scanned the surrounding area, “i’m bakugo. kastuki.”

your reply of a blank stare spoke a thousand words.

“y’know, dynamight.”

who?

“the number two hero!”

nothing.

“the one who saved that whole airline from blowing up just a week ago! c’mon, it was all over the fuckin’ news!”

“you look like a hotter version of my old maths teacher. oh, and i’m (y/n) (l/n).” was the only verbal response he was able to get out of you, even after all his explaining.

“why do you i feel like you are sayin’ that just to piss me off?” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth, followed by a sharp inhale which you assumed was an attempt to calm himself down. his carnelian eyes darted around the room, halting once he raised his arm to view his watch. his brows knitted together as he read the time, forming a concentrated look which was short-lived as his face was quick to relax, emphasised by a slight shrug as if to say ‘i’ve got time’, before slumping down on the couch next to you. 

“so why did you and shitty deku break up?”

“i may be a bit tipsy but i’m not just gonna tell that sorta stuff to a complete stranger.” each syllable felt like it had to be forced out one at a time, but you’d rather that than slur you speech as bakugo seemed like the type to poke fun at you for it. 

“i just wanna know how badly he fucked up this time.” bakugo smirked, propping his elbow up on the back of the couch to turn and look at you, “eh, i don’t think we’ll be strangers for long.” 

there was a certain purr in this voice which sent blood rushing to your cheeks as you never expect someone like him to come on so strong. not that you were complaining, i mean, being in his presence during a time like this felt like a gift from god but you weren’t going to let him know that. it’d only add to his already massive ego so you decided to ignore his suggestive behaviour, opting to show disinterest instead, “hm, you think?”

it was almost comical how fast bakugo’s cocky smirk fell into a frown. honestly, he wasn’t used to people that he flirts with rejecting him, considering that he rarely ever makes moves on anyone. so, now what did he do? due to the foreign nature of this situation, bakugo felt as though he was left with no choice but to bargain, since he’s far from a quitter, “oi, what that supposed to mean?”

you shrug.

bakugo clicked his tongue along with a roll of his eyes before he said, “how ‘bout this; i pay for your room tonight and in exchange we can get to know each other tomorrow.”

“i can pay for my own room though.” 

bakugo deadpanned, he honestly thought he had won but apparently not. perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to hit on someone who had just gotten out of a relationship but whatever. “you’re impossible.” he spat, getting up from the couch and marching away, presumably to his room.

he tried to brush off the encounter like it never happened, reassuring himself that he didn’t have to think much of it as he could get with anyone else. plus, you’d probably come crawling back to him, begging to fuck once you get over deku anyway. 

and he was half right.

eventually, you came to the realisation that both you and bakugo have one thing in common — a hatred for deku. and as it turns out, hatred provides a good groundwork for friendship. 

#deku angst #izuku angst #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x y/n #midoriya angst #👾angst #i'll probably have to make a part 4 for this to make sense

[hakasims]

The Most In-depth Analysis of Luca Marinelli’s Characters You’ll Ever Need

You’d think I was done with classifications, but I’m not! There’s so much more I can say about Luca Marinelli’s oeuvre and his magnificent roster of characters. And yes, I’ve made this post before where I highlighted specific tropes that show up in a lot of his movies, but that was surface-level shit. This is an actual exploration of what makes a Luca Marinelli character besides being a kinky little whore. And don’t worry, it’s still in that user-friendly question-answer format because I love you.

Here’s the thing: Luca is a chameleon but he also has a type, and this type is:

✨ a (likely) queer repressed addict with daddy issues ✨

That’s the skeleton. Let’s see how many of his major roles possess that skeleton at all and what flavors they add to the picture.

Disclaimer: I excluded characters with little screen time and Joseph from Mary of Nazareth because he doesn’t deserve rights. Also, instead of going in the boring chronological order, I’m gonna start with the least typical character for Luca and end with the crème de la crème. The results may not surprise you.

Nicky (The Old Guard)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? No.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? I know we’re all deeply affected by our shitty father figures but I would genuinely question Nicky’s sanity if he were still on that shit at the ripe age of 951. A little tip for daddy-hating immortals out there: just do what Angel did and kill your shitty dad. Problem solved.

Is he violent? Despite doling out tons of violence, he doesn’t have a violent nature and seems uninterested in hating his enemy or delivering retribution.

Does he need a good night sleep? I’m sure nothing helps one sleep better than a Joe-shaped big spoon.

Does he need a good cry? Doesn’t seem like it.

Flavors: A perfect immortal warrior bean in a healthy relationship.

Conclusion: Ironically but unsurprisingly, Nicky is the least Luca-like character.

Guido (Tutti i santi giorni)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so but who knows? If someone told me he’s demisexual, I’d believe it.

Is he repressed? The movie may disagree, but I say yes, obviously.

Does he have an addiction? Not unless you count his romantic relationship.

Does he have daddy issues? His family is so supportive and wholesome it’s almost parodic.

Is he violent? He’s the opposite of a toxic macho dude, but then he has a violent outburst out of nowhere because the movie is bad.

Does he need a good night sleep? He doesn’t like sleeping at night.

Does he need a good cry? Naturally.

Flavors: An adorkable awkward nerd with flowery speech.

Conclusion: I can forgive straightness and wholesomeness but I can’t forgive lack of complexity.

Martin (Martin Eden)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? Yes.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? Not to my knowledge.

Is he violent? When he deems it necessary to be.

Does he need a good night sleep? Sure.

Does he need a good cry? Cry your little heart out, Martin!

Flavors: An arrogant, pretentious, politically confused writer.

Conclusion: A little too straight for your typical Luca, but he makes up for it with being complex and complicated.

Loris (Il mondo fino in fondo)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? So fucking repressed!

Does he have an addiction? Nothing beyond his savior complex.

Does he have daddy issues? He has a shitty dad he’s spent his whole life trying to please, and also his mommy left, so like yeah, obviously.

Is he violent? He has his straight dude moments.

Does he need a good night sleep? Definitely.

Does he need a good cry? Oh yeah, let him cry, it’s good for him.

Flavors: A casually homophobic mother hen.

Conclusion: Ruined by heterosexual agenda.

Lui (Ricordi?)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? Very.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? A big sack of them.

Is he violent? No.

Does he need a good night sleep? Oh yes. To sleep, perchance to dream about anything other than his traumatic memories.

Does he need a good cry? So much.

Flavors: Up-his-butt and pensive.

Conclusion: Leave it to Luca to take a guy who would be an absolute nightmare in real life and turn him into someone I actually want to watch for two hours and see happy by the end.

Gabriele (Waves)

Is he queer? There’s evidence he might be gay.

Is he repressed? I’d bet on it.

Does he have an addiction? Doesn’t seem like it.

Does he have daddy issues? Nobody knows.

Is he violent? No.

Does he need a good night sleep? He probably will with how the movie ended.

Does he need a good cry? At least one.

Flavors: A sweet introverted guy who loves boats.

Conclusion: While not particularly complex, Gabriele has layers and nuances. Also give him a big muscular daddy.

Fabrizio (Fabrizio de André - Principe libero)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? He was before music became his only career.

Does he have an addiction? Alcohol, cigarettes, sex, cheating - take your pick.

Does he have daddy issues? Not as bad as some of the other guys here but he’s heard his fair share of “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed” speeches.

Is he violent? He’s soft.

Does he need a good night sleep? He’s an artist, what do you think?

Does he need a good cry? He’s an artist, what do you think?

Flavors: Fabrizio de André is the flavor.

Conclusion: Even though it’s a biopic, there are still many Luca-isms there. He’s just that kind of actor.

Milton (Una questione privata)

Is he queer? It could be argued that he is bisexual.

Is he repressed? Do you even need to ask?

Does he have an addiction? About half of the breaths he takes are filled with cigarette smoke.

Does he have daddy issues? He seems to have a good and loving relationship with both his parents.

Is he violent? Not by nature.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yep.

Does he need a good cry? He certainly does.

Flavors: A repressed bisexual feeling powerless in a horrible world.

Conclusion: This is proof that Luca can carry a whole entire movie on his sexy shoulders, alone. Also Milton needs a safe and loving triad.

Mattia (La solitudine dei numeri primi)

Is he queer? I personally read him as asexual. Though assigning asexuality to characters who are traumatized is a dangerous path so don’t quote me on this, okay?

Is he repressed? Just the most repressed.

Does he have an addiction? It’s debatable whether self-harm and eating disorders can be considered addictions, but they’re part of his character, and I thought you should know.

Does he have daddy issues? His parents played their part in messing him up which then led to the big thing that really messed him up, though other than that his dad is barely a presence.

Is he violent? Not at all.

Does he need a good night sleep? At least 17 hours.

Does he need a good cry? Oh, so much. He needs all the cry.

Flavors: A quiet genius with lots of guilt.

Conclusion: Can you believe this was his first film role? Our boy is talented af!

Fabio (Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? You could argue that he is repressed by being limited in his place in social hierarchy.

Does he have an addiction? Amazingly enough, no. He has fixations, though.

Does he have daddy issues? Thinking his father was a loser and not wanting to end up like him is textbook stuff.

Is he violent? Very.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yes please.

Does he need a good cry? He needs to purge his soul from all the bottled up stuff.

Flavors: A campy psycho.

Conclusion: Luca’s most iconic character, so of course he scored high on the list.

Paolo (Il padre d’Italia)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? I can’t even start listing all the ways in which he’s repressed.

Does he have an addiction? He smokes a lot.

Does he have daddy issues? His issues are more of a mommy variety.

Is he violent? Not in the slightest.

Does he need a good night sleep? He’s the poster boy for needing a good night sleep.

Does he need a good cry? A good cry, a good weep, a good sob, a good bawl, *googles more synonyms* a good wail, a good squall...

Flavors: A self-loathing gay orphan in need of some life goodness.

Conclusion: What can I say about Paolo that all of you aren’t already thinking? Decent film, great character, excellent portrayal.

Mickey (Die Pfeiler der Macht)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? It’s Victorian England, you guys.

Does he have an addiction? He smokes casually but other than that... eh. And don’t tell me he has sex addiction. He uses his body strategically.

Does he have daddy issues? If what he has isn’t daddy issues, I don’t know what is.

Is he violent? He’s got tons of bottled up aggression.

Does he need a good night sleep? It would be great if he could use the day’s darkest hours for sleeping.

Does he need a good cry? Undeniably.

Flavors: A conniving slut extraordinaire.

Conclusion: A major player in the book (says me who managed like 50 pages), Mickey Miranda was turned into such a nothing character in the miniseries that they needed a truly extraordinary actor to make him memorable. And guess what, Luca delivered.

Cesare (Non essere cattivo)

Is he queer? Not explicitly, but come on.

Is he repressed? Lethally.

Does he have an addiction? He’s an addiction textbook.

Does he have daddy issues? *Jake Peralta voice* Yeah, the guy without a daddy is the one with daddy issues. Explain that logic.

Is he violent? Oh yeah, he’s a rabid little trash goblin.

Does he need a good night sleep? So much.

Does he need a good cry? He’s had his fair share of good cries, but he could always use more.

Flavors: A aimless junkie.

Conclusion: The quintessential Luca. Beautiful.

Primo (Trust)

Is he queer? Listen, just because we don’t see him fuck a dude on screen it doesn’t mean he isn’t a motherfluffing queer icon. It’s not subtext; it’s TEXT.

Is he repressed? Where do I even fucking start?

Does he have an addiction? Oh yeah. And a coke nail to prove it.

Does he have daddy issues? I would need a whole separate post to unpack his daddy issues.

Is he violent? So very violent.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yes, please. On an actual bed in an actual bedroom.

Does he need a good cry? You can just tell.

Flavors: A ruthless criminal with a strong mafia boss potential.

Conclusion: The pièce de résistance of the Luca Marinelli filmography. Not only does he tick every box, he gets bonus points for the excellent wardrobe choices that emphasize Luca’s best features. Primo Nizzuto is everything great you want from Luca, except singing. (Though in my headcanon that whole white car in a snowstorm monologue was a musical number.)

#luca marinelli #the old guard #tutti i santi giorni #martin eden #il mondo fino in fondo #ricordi? #waves 2012 #fabrizio de andré - principe libero #una questione privata #la solitudine dei numeri primi #lo chiamavano jeeg robot #il padre d'italia #die pfeiler der macht #non essere cattivo #trust fx

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer IV

Part 07: Crashing Down

series masterlist | previous part

summary: A jarring family emergency forces you to consider the future of your relationship with Rafe Cameron.

a/n: I'm a little bit emotional about this series ending because I've had so much fun writing it! Enjoy the last part and, as always, please come share your reactions with me in my inbox. Okay, that's all from me!

word count: 2.1k words

Rafe Cameron knew how to text. He was somehow witty, charming, and hilarious all in less characters than a single tweet. Texting with most boys was like talking to a brick wall: single-syllable answers, unironic uses of punctuation, asking “What are you wearing?” before even listening to how your day went. Though, to be fair, Rafe had asked that same question a few times, which always earned him a sarcastic answer in return. Well, except for that one time.

You’d been forced to spill the beans about your dreamy summer romance to Alice and Kensie after one of Rafe’s funnier texts almost made you pee yourself laughing at the lunch table.

“Oh, so he’s a stud muffin,” Alice announced, peering over Kenzie’s shoulder at the photo on your phone.

“Please god don’t call anyone a stud muffin ever again Al,” Kenzie replied.

“What? The 80s are like making a comeback.”

“Yeah, not that,” you countered and Alice huffed.

“He’s totally hot though,” Kenzie said, handing the phone back to you. “And I kinda hate you for not telling us about him.”

You looked down at the picture. Rafe was kissing your check while you grinned up at the camera, the golden hour lighting made the whole thing look rather enchanting. It was your favorite picture of you and him.

“Oh shit,” Kenzie said causing you to look up from the phone. “You’re like in love in love with him.”

“What? No,” you protested. Yes, your brain corrected.

Kenzie glanced over at Alice for backup.

“Besides, I wasn’t hiding him. I just didn’t know if there was anything there to...tell,” you finished.

“I wish I had a handsome summer fling with spectacular cheekbones,” Alice sighed.

“Don’t let your boyfriend hear you saying that.” Kenzie chucked a fry off her tray at Alice who dodged it expertly.

“Oh, please. Matty knows I would dump his ass for someone who looks like a young Chuck Bass any day of the week. Gimme your phone. I wanna see the photos again y/n.”

“I seriously don’t know how you and Matthew have been together for two years,” Kenzie replied.

“Are you kidding? They’re practically made for each other,” you added.

“The phone, please,” Alice interjected. “I wanna thirst over your mans while my boyfriend is sucking up to his English teacher so she doesn’t fail him. Of course, I told him he needed to actually read Wuthering Heights and not just sparknotes it. But did he listen? No. I picked a real winner y’all,” she finished, taking the phone from your outstretched hands. “You sure Rafe doesn’t have any brothers? Not even like a half-step brother?”

So yeah, going great. Against the odds of three thousand miles, the whole thing was somehow working. Long-distance friends with benefits? Check. Well, except for those moments when that nagging feeling in your stomach came back and you’d start overthinking everything. His texts would sit, unread in your phone for days or even a whole week, slowly sinking to the bottom of your messages.

Then came the call from the Kildare Country Hospital in the early hours of a foggy April morning. You should have gone to sleep hours ago but were still up, desperately trying to cram Maria’s lines into your brain while also texting Rafe. The Sound of Music opened in three weeks and your director had already chewed you out twice for not being off-book, something about being an upperclassman and the lead, and what kind of an example were you setting for the rest of the program. Big speeches were kind of your director's thing, you learned to just ride them out.

Around 1 a.m. your phone ran with an incoming FaceTime call from Rafe. You pressed the green acccept button, a smile spread across your face as Rafe’s own filled the screen.

“Hey Broadway Star.”

“Hi Rafe.” The dim lighting of his bedroom made his feature especially striking. “What are you still doing up?”

“Can’t sleep. Plus you’re up too so. How’s the memorizing going?”

“Shitty,” you replied, closing your binder with a sigh. “I’m too tired to do anymore of it tonight anyway.”

“You know, I was thinking I could come to Oregon for your opening night?”

“Really?” The possibility of Rafe sitting in the audience made your heart race.

“Yeah, why not? I’ll ask Ward if I can borrow the plane that weekend and I bet Sarah’ll want to come too. I wanna see my girl kill it. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Rafe. You know my friends think you’re hot.”

“Oh, do they?” Rafe replied, rolling over onto his back in his bed.

“Don’t let it get to your head, Cameron.”

The home phone ran but you ignored it, much more invested in your conversation with Rafe. The second time the hospital left a message. Your Nonna’s heart had given out. The prognosis wasn’t good. She had barely any time left.

Your heart dropped as the words echoed over the speaker of the answering machine.

“Rafe,” you said, cutting him off momentarily. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back later. I gotta-” you ended the call before Rafe even had the chance to respond. You dropped your phone on the kitchen table, dashing up the stairs to your parents’ bedroom. Your father was booking a flight for your mother back to the Outer Banks minutes later.

The end had come so quickly, so unexpectedly. It was almost like that made it harder. There'd been just enough time for your mom and uncle to get to the Outer Banks, sitting on each side of your Nonna as her final breaths passed through her lungs. Now, everyone was there to say goodbye one last time. Uncle Austin and his fiancé. Your mom and dad. Both your siblings. The entire population of Figure Eight.

☼☼☼

Rain drizzled down from the dark, gray clouds looming overhead. It was as if Mother Nature was mourning your Nonna too, hiding the sunshine away.

Three baby ducks followed their mama into the man-made pond at the edge of the cemetery. You watched their tiny feet kick up small waves disturbing the peaceful water and the tears silently slipped down your face.

The cars were waiting to take you back to your Nonna's house for the wake. The same house with the for-sale sign now stuck in the front yard. The for-sale sign with Rose's patronizing grin that you were starting to really hate. Your dad had handled that. Listing the house. He'd handled most of the funeral arrangement's actually because your mother had been too sunken into her grief to make any decision. Sending out the invitations, picking out your Nonna's casket, choosing the flowers. Your mother clung to him during the entire funeral, weeping into his shoulder.

“Y/n?” Rafe's voice called out from behind you and you turned to see him walked toward you. He’d stood at the back of the church with his family during the funeral. You had longed for him to be sitting in the first pew next to you, to have had his hand to hold onto to ground you, but it hardly would have been appropriate. Your Nonna would have sooner risen from the dead than have had a Cameron front row at her funeral.

As soon as he was close enough, Rafe reached for you, pulling your body tight into him. Your head landed on his chest and the sobs came moments later. God, he always smelled the same. He just let you cry, holding you close, smoothing his hand over your hair.

“I know you’re selling your grandma’s house but I was thinking you could stay with me for the summer," he said as your tears began to slow. It was hard to imagine that you wouldn't return to the Outer Banks once school let out. It was the first week of May already and you could feel the tourist-attracting town waking up. But selling the house just made more sense. Your older sister was already living her life in New York, a real adult life. Next summer, you'd be moving out too, headed to college. The house would sit empty for eight months out of the year, your family couldn't keep it and your uncle certainly didn’t want it. Selling it just had to happen.

You stepped back, slipping out of his embrace. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rafe.”

“Why not?”

“Cause we’re like Romeo and Juliet.”

“I copied Cleo’s notes for that unit," he joked, trying to lighten to damp mood. “Plus I was never a fan of Leo DiCaprio so I didn’t finish the movie either.”

“It means we’re not supposed to be together, you and me. And whenever we try, the universe rips us apart. We hurt each other.”

Rafe shifted awkwardly on his feet, clearly wanting to reach for you again but stopping himself from doing it. “But I can't lose you.”

You reached your hand out, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “Oh Rafe, don’t you get it? You never really had me.” You stood up onto your tiptoes to kiss him just like you had the first time three years ago. Rafe barely parted his lips, kissing you back gently. Your hand cupped his face, your thump stroking over his cheek. It was a goodbye. Both of you knew it. It was an ending and this was your closure. You pulled away, your hand falling away from his face.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual words. Your eyes fell to the ground. You needed to walk away now. You side-stepped Rafe but he grabbed your waist, turning you back around to face him.

“So that’s it? You’re not even gonna try to fight for us?”

“What even is there to fight for, Rafe? I’ve been fighting for us for the past four years. If we were supposed to be together that car wouldn’t have crashed into ours, I wouldn’t have fallen for Evan when I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation at my Nonna’s funeral. What? Are we supposed to do long distance for all of college? I hardly know who I am right now. I have no idea who I’ll be in the next four years. Our future selves might not even like each other. I’m not gonna wait around for you Rafe and I would never ask you to do that for me.” You twirled the small, star charm between your fingers, a nervous habit you'd developed over the past year. His eyes dropped down to your neck momentarily and his adam's apple visibly bobbing as he swallowed his next weeks.

“You were it for me, you know. I tried to give a fuck about anyone else but I couldn’t get your gorgeous, stupid face out of my mind. I only wanted you.” Rafe paused gauging your reaction “I was falling in love with you.”

Your eyes wandered over his stoic expression. “The feeling was mutual, Rafe Cameron.”

He dropped your wrist but you both stood, not moving or saying anything. “Do you wanna walk me back to the car?”

“Yeah.” He reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers. Your other hand held onto his bicep so you walked together through the graveyard back to the parking lot.

The moment felt precious and delicate, like the fragile china your Nonna used to collect. You wondered what would happen to all that china.

Rafe placed a chaste kiss on your lips before opening the door of the car.

“I’ll miss you,” you said, the words hanging in the air meaning so much.

“Me too,” Rafe agreed.

You wanted one more kiss, one more passionate declaration of how much this all had meant but that would make leaving Rafe so much more impossible.

You climbed into the car, dropping Rafe’s hand in the process.

“See you around Cameron.” You knew it wouldn’t happen but it felt better than a goodbye.

He smiled back. “Maybe so.”

Perhaps Rafe was right and you’d both end up at a small liberal arts college in California taking the same second-year Econ class with a professor who always smelled like weed. Perhaps the stars would align and two of you would realize the universe wasn’t trying to keep you apart. It was just waiting for the right moment to show you that the love you had for each other was the soulmates, forever and ever kind of love. Perhaps you would get married and Sarah would be your maid of honor, of course. You’d buy back your Nonna’s house to raise your troubling-making kids in. Perhaps, you would find your way back and wake up each day and choose each other again and again.

Or perhaps, he'd always be your right-person-wrong-time. And, in the end, the passing days will steal away your memories of the blue-eyed boy from the Outer Banks.

taglist! @oreoenthusiast13

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