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tropes-and-tales · 1 year

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Holiday Memories

December 16: Candy cane/playlist - Oh my god, they were roommates (Horacio Carrillo x F!reader)

(From the winter prompts found here)

CW: Super-convoluted plot-point; pining; fluff; tons o’typos and grammar snafus

Word Count: 1307

AN: Requested by anon!

It’s the least ideal situation: Horacio Carrillo, grown man and stoic leader of the Search Bloc needs to humble himself and move in with you.

Admittedly, it’s not his fault…nor is he the one that actually has to humble himself and ask you. The Colombian government does the official asking.

It’s a series of catastrophes—there’s a fire in his neighborhood with the house next door, and strong winds blow it in the direction of his house. It’s a near-total loss, and it’s unclear if it’s the usual culprits (faulty wiring, unattended candle) or if it’s arson from the narcos. Threats had been made. Chatter and bragging after the fact point to a possible crime.

Usually, the head of the Search Bloc would get his own temporary apartment in the block of buildings that the U.S. embassy uses for its employees, but they are at capacity.

Carrillo can’t move in with Steve Murphy and his wife and young, adopted daughter.

Carrillo can’t move in with Peña. Well, he could move in with Peña, but he’d be relegated to the couch and while he isn’t a prude, Carrillo doesn’t think he could handle a listening post at Javier’s tour through the women of Medellín.

Carrillo can move in with you. You somehow snagged a rare two-bedroom unit when you moved in, and while he doesn’t work with you day to day—you focus on the political side of the Search Bloc/DEA relationship, keeping the skids greased for mutual benefit—he gets along well enough with you. You’re serious about your work, fluent in Spanish, and quiet.

He could do worse.

-----

That was back in June. Now, six months later, he is no closer to moving out.

You don’t seem to mind him. You seem to enjoy the company, and you readily admitted early on that you’d been lonely in Medellín. Carrillo had not admitted then that he felt the same, lonely in the evenings.

He hasn’t lived with a woman since Juliana left and divorced him. Living with you is something else entirely.

It’s a strange thing, being so close but so separate: the intimacy of cooking together, sharing a meal, and then sleeping in different rooms. Of seeing you early in the morning, bleary-eyed and in your sleepwear, grouchy until you get some coffee in you.

Of waking you up when he comes in late, stinking of bitter gun smoke and cordite after losing a man. Of the gentle, sleepy way you lay your hand on his arm, the way you gaze at him and ask if he’s okay, if he wants to talk.

You grew up in a family of comfort feeders. Every time he comes in late and low, you offer to make him something. He usually waves you off, but sometimes he doesn’t, and it nourishes him: the way you heat up leftovers, the way you sit and watch him eat. The pleased way you nod when he pushes his empty plate away, as if the heartache of his job can be cured by reheated tamales or a lasagna or a slice of your apple pie with a chunk of mild cheese melted on top.

Maybe the heartache can’t be cured, but he does feel better afterwards.

-----

Of course he falls in love with you. Any idiot would, and Horacio Carrillo is no idiot.

-----

You get a delivery one evening, a box from the States covered in colorful stamps and giant block printing.

“From my dad,” you tell Carrillo as you plunk it down on the kitchen table with a grin. “A taste of home.”

He sits down and watches as you unbox everything. There’s obvious nods to Christmas—an advent calendar of chocolates, a box of cordial cherries, candy canes. A container of cookies, a container of homemade candy. There’s a jar of homemade salsa, brand-new socks, a framed photo of your family. A framed photo of a dog that makes you sigh sadly.

There’s letters from family and friends, a tidy stack of them tied off with a ribbon. There’s a handful of cassette tapes too, and you look at the handwritten track lists before you laugh and spin away to load one in the stereo.

“All the songs we used to play during the holidays,” you tell him as the opening strains start to play. It’s Nat King Cole, and Carrillo can see the way your eyes light up at all the memories sparking for you.

“Tell me about the holidays when you’re home,” he says softly, and you do.

Your mother’s and grandmother’s militant baking schedule: the cookies from recipes passed down for generations, the fudge, the yule log cakes with marzipan. How an entire weekend is carved out to make hard candy, rock candy flavored with peppermint and cinnamon and lemon.

Midnight Mass with your family, then home to drink eggnog in front of fire. Dozing off in the family room with your siblings by the tree—your parents were New Age types, kinda sorta, and never told you the lie of Santa. Waking up to waffles and breakfast casserole and strong coffee, then unwrapping presents.

“I grew up in Colorado,” you tell him. “It snows there. It was magical, waking up to the world covered in glittering snow. The whole world frozen and cold, but we were tucked in warm with our family.”

“It sounds wonderful,” he says, and it’s not a lie. He’s almost envious, though his family’s Christmases were magical in their own way.

You open the box of candy canes and snap one in two, offer him the hooked end while you suck at your own piece.

“Tell me about your holidays,” you say, and you gaze at him so openly that he does. He shares that with you.

The two of you talk so long that the tape flips to the B side and starts to play. He can feel the shift in you, a melancholy that seems to fall over the evening. All of the talk of family and friends, the memories…it makes you realize what you’re going to miss. What you are missing.

It’s when Dean Martin’s version of “I’ll be Home for Christmas” starts to play that he sees the tears start to rise in your eyes. Carrillo doesn’t think—he only operates on feeling in this moment, and he stands, holds a hand out to you.

“Here,” he says. “Dance with me.”

“Huh?” You blink against the tears and look up at him, confused, but you place your hand in his and allow him to pull you out of your chair. He pulls you away from the table and puts his other hand lightly on your waist, spins you into the living room and sets you into a gentle swaying against the slow song.

You don’t resist him. You hold his hand too, and you lay your other one on his shoulder.

“Didn’t take you for a dancer, Colonel,” you say with a joking lilt, but your voice is quiet, soft. You say it like you don’t want to break the spell he’s woven—transforming your rising melancholy into something better, more intimate.

“I’m good on my feet,” he deadpans. “Dancing, running across Medellín rooftops.”

“A man of many talents.”

“If not many, at least a few.”

You hum at that, but you don’t reply. Neither of you say anything else; you listen to the song and sway gently to it, but you don’t talk. After a few bars, you sigh and rest your head against his shoulder, so he holds you tighter. You squeeze his hand, and maybe he’s reading too much into this single, small moment, but he guesses what you’re saying with that squeeze of your hand.

Maybe you’re saying thank you. Maybe you’re saying I miss my family but I’m glad you’re here.

#horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo imagine #horacio carrillo x reader #colonel horacio carrillo #colonel horacio carrillo x reader #colonel Carrillo #colonel carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo imagine #narcos #tropes-and-tales #winter prompts 2022

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masterwords · 2 years

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Pls pls pls if you’re still in the mood could you do hotch “id do it for you” and derek “look at that, you’re blushing” <333 (maybe even make it slightly smutty because it sounds dirty but its up to you!!).

-❤️‍🩹

Hey! Sorry it took a bit to get this one done, but I hope you like it! I don't really do smut very well, but I went right up close.

(Warnings: marijuana smoking & sex in the woods, eh. Not graphic but yeah, you know what they're gonna do and good for them, too.)

(3.2k words / On AO3 if you prefer.)

It isn't so wild anymore, not so small. There are more houses than he remembers but it doesn't really look that different. A few of the shops have had face lifts or changed owners but in towns like this nothing really changes.

“Do I really have to do this?' Derek whines from the passenger seat. Jack fell asleep the minute the car hit the highway, and though they'd intended to have some serious talks about what this was, so far it had been crisp silence.

The “this” in question is a gathering that Hotch's mother was throwing at her home. Each time she spoke to him about it she seemed to have a distinctly different story. Her memory was fading with age and he didn't have the heart to poke too many holes in her stories, especially given that he knew very well that the reason she was having trouble keeping her stories straight had more to do with telling a lie than it did any real memory problems. In this case, anyway.

She was making him come so that she could, in her way, check up on him. It had been nearly half a year since Haley's death, nearly half a year of he and Jack on their own. They'd gone through enough holidays that she could avoid those emotional landmines and were now deeply settled in the doldrums of summer. So, in her way, she needs to make sure they're okay. Her way being a far cry from what he would consider somewhat normal, but then, this was his normal. Derek's mom would call and keep up with him, ask him what was going on in his life, if he was well. Hotch's mom found those sorts of conversations unbearable, so she threw parties. Cocktail parties, birthday parties, pot lucks.

That she's always been a deeply lonely person, even in the midst of a crowd, was only the cherry on top. Hotch would be lying if he said he couldn't relate there.

In any case, there was no amount of reason that could make Derek want to go. He found Hotch's family troubling and difficult to understand. He's going out of a sense of duty, he loves Hotch and he would never refuse this...but the thing is, neither one of them want to be there and that isn't sitting well with him.

“I'd do it for you,” Hotch replied softly, and that was meant to be the end of it. Would have been, too, except Derek had anticipated that and already had a retort.

“Yeah, but my family is fun. My mom loves you. Your family...”

“Is stuffy and awful, I know. But Sean will be there.”

That was the only reason Derek said yes in the first place, though he had his doubts about whether it would prove to be true. Sean isn't exactly the most reliable.

“If I can do it, so can you.” Hotch tried to smile at that, because what he meant was that his family liked Derek an awful lot more than they liked him. Especially now. And in his small hometown, word spread like wildfire...not a soul would look at him and not know about what happened to Haley on his watch. That they had been divorced for years wouldn't be a talking point, but his responsibility to protect his family would be on everyone's lips. He's only going now because he knows if he puts it off, the gesture is going to become more desperate and his mother can only be held off for so long. He's got to head her off at the pass. It's going to be painful, but worse for him than for Derek, of that he's certain.

What he'd assumed to be a ruse was actually very much real. At one point it was just a small dinner, another it was a few people from church...but no, it turned out to be a garden party. The entire front and side yards are decorated with balloons and tables full of food, there are lawn games set up and children Hotch doesn't know already running around. Jack joins them without even questioning who they are. The beauty of childhood.

“A party? For real?” Derek asks and Hotch just shrugs. He can't find it in himself to be shocked at anything his mother does anymore.

“She told me...” Well, she told him a lot of things. “Just stay with me.”

Derek has never had a problem with parties or getting to know people, he's easily the center of attention but this affair is something he really has no idea how to navigate. Hotch has no problem slipping into the role, though, he's a master. He puts on that charming soft smile, and he extends his hand to a dozen of their neighbors and distant family relations who tell him they're very sorry for his loss. He takes it in stride, lets Derek hook their hands and lace their fingers together. No one says a word, and he doesn't pull away. This party is clearly his mother's way of making sure he and Jack are alright, and with Jack running around laughing with a group of rowdy children, that really only leaves him. Derek is helping.

“Are you eating?” Her voice startles him, and Hotch wheels around to finally see the stony, pinched features of his mother. Her hair is pulled back in a neat bun at the nape of her neck, the same pitch black sparked with silver as his own, drawing her forehead impossibly tight around her narrowed hawk eyes. The gingham dress she's had pressed and fluffed for the occasion is in direct opposition to her frown, but that's just her face.

“I'm eating,” is his response. It's not a whole lie, but the cocktail of medications he's taking have suppressed his appetite immensely. He's not going to argue with her, though. Looking him up and down, she has her doubts and vocalizes none of them. She's done her duty in asking, so she moves on, wraps Derek in a hug that feels a little stiff and a little awkward. She means it, though, she's very fond of Derek in her way. She is simply not an affectionate woman.

They find Sean out back with the dads and the burnouts, exactly where Derek was hoping to spend his evening. Hotch leaves him there to make more rounds, he's nowhere near done appeasing his mother and proving that he's fine (whether he actually is or not really doesn't make a difference, it's all a game and he's a halfway decent actor) but Derek doesn't need to play along. He hangs around the grill and helps where he can, tossing back bottles of dixie beer and laughing loud with Sean.

As the big orange sun sinks over the treetops, Hotch is exhausted and ready to hide for an eternity. He's more than tripled the number of social interactions he has the capacity for when all of the focus is on him. It's worse than Haley's funeral, no one stands on formality here. They ask prying questions and give him their accusing looks without any real care or grace to soften their edges. He's used to being a sounding board, the shock absorbent silent type, but even he has his limits. No one cared this much when he and Haley divorced, but now it's all anyone wants to talk about. That's small towns for you, though. The news hits hard and fast, and it'll burn out just as fast once everyone has spoken their piece. Perhaps that was really his mother's motive, pulling them all out of the woodwork to stop the gossip train in its tracks. She's wily, that one. He's impressed, the more he thinks about this awful stage production.

He impressed but he's also done.

Jack begs to go home with his new best friends, a few cousins who live down the lane. Relatives of Haley's. He texts Jessica to verify before giving his blessing, he trusts her. (She gives the thumbs up, and also makes sure to mention she's glad she's not there and not to tell anyone that she's around.) They're not really cousins but that's an easy way to describe it to Jack, he leans into it. Hotch says it's okay, he'll see him in the morning.

He finds Derek in the small rugged orchard that backs up the house, not too far, leaning against a rotting old cherry tree with a joint carefully cupped in his hand as if Hotch wouldn't know what he was hiding. He could smell it a mile away, everyone could. People were talking about what they were doing out here, scandalized that they'd do it out in the open with children present. Those same people walked around with their stiff martinis and their prescription happy pills like it wasn't the same. Maybe it isn't, Hotch thinks, but he really doesn't care and he doesn't want to think about it anymore. His soul is stretched paper thin.

Derek's lips are red with the juice of the overripe fruit, they'd all been eating their fill at their mother's request. She'd had the trees sprayed that year and no one to do the picking, all the fruit was going to seed. Eat, eat she had said and Derek...well he hadn't grown up with fruit trees, this was always his favorite part of visiting the Hotchner house. If he only knew she'd had the trees sprayed just for him, the only person who still thought those trees were worth a damn, he might have felt different about coming. She had her moments. They were startling, few and far between, but there nonetheless.

“Shit, FEDs!” Same old song and dance. That's Jacob, a cousin from their mother's side, and he's been making that joke as long as Hotch has been with the FBI. He still laughs himself silly and Hotch thinks nothing like a good cautionary tale. Sean socks him in the arm and rolls his eyes.

“That one's a FED too, asshole.” He pointed to Derek who just waved, wiggling his fingers and winking before taking another long, lazy pull on the joint he held. Approaching him, ignoring the rest of the gathering, Hotch lets the entire facade drop. His shoulders slump and he looks exhausted, that's all Derek can see. He's worn out and near collapse, but Derek is finally having a good time and he doesn't want it to end...he wants Hotch to join him. Without giving it much thought (or, really, just the opposite...it had been all he could think about all day) he grabs Hotch by the back of the neck and pulls him chest to chest, forehead to forehead and kisses him. It's innocent at first, until Hotch realizes that he's opening those cherry juice slicked lips and pushing grassy green smoke into his mouth. Struggling not to cough, Hotch admits quickly that he has no recourse before sucking the smoke deep into his own lungs and holding it tight. Just long enough to feel the burn and the spreading warmth before letting it seep slowly out like smoldering dragon's breath.

“You been holding out on me, Agent?” Derek asks in his husky whisper, forgetting that they were surrounded by people. Hotch didn't mind, he just smiled.

“There are a lot of things you don't know about me.” The weed went right to his head. He hadn't eaten more than half a bowl of cereal and a few bites of toast that morning and he knows he's going to pay for it now, but maybe that's what he needs after enduring hours of people's thinly veiled judgments about his failure as a husband and father.

Derek pulls Hotch against him, hugs him from behind and continues puffing his way through what he's got left of his joint. It's hardly more than a smoldering nub now, the smoke circling both of their heads and Hotch is breathing it in without really worrying about it now. He's not exactly happy with Derek shotgunning him without asking first, he'll probably hear about it later, but for the moment his coiled tight muscles are relaxing into Derek's embrace and the sneak attack had more than done its job. Derek nuzzls into the warmth of Hotch's neck and smiles.

“You know this is violating a number of very strict Buearu policies? We could be terminated.” Hotch's words are sharp but he's so calm, almost liquid and floating beneath Derek's arms. Derek lets out a soft chuckle and whispers in his ear so close his lips tickle the delicate skin.

“Don't worry, my boyfriend is the big boss...he's got a lot of connections...”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He's kinda scary. People don't really mess with him...”

Hotch smiles easily at that and lets himself finish melting. Not so big and scary right now. He feels like he's made of putty and stars, sparkling and tingling in a pit of primordial ooze. The sun starts her slow descent, her disappearing act behind the line of skeleton cherry trees and knotty peach trees weighted down with their heavy fruit. Hotch wants one badly.

He's eyeing one from afar, and Derek follows his gaze effortlessly to the glowing peach tree. “Which one?” he asks, and Hotch's eyes go wide as he tries to remember mentioning a peach. Or was Derek reading his mind? He knows he's really high and it's a little goofy...how often he and his handful of friends had hidden back here and done this very thing but with far more sinister intentions. Nothing so innocent as just wanting a peach, unless that peach was a vehicle in which to pack a renegade firework meant to be tossed at someone none of them particularly liked.

Grabbing Hotch's hand, Derek pulls him away from the laughing mess of smoking faces and out into the ragged lines of a once neatly pruned orchard. The peach trees are ominous, gnarled like old arthritic knuckles and some of the branches weep like willows they're so heavy with fruit. The bees have gone to sleep for the night but they have left their mark in a wasteland of half eaten overripe fruit. Derek finds one that is nearly as big as his hand and plucks it from a high branch, handing it to Hotch expectantly. He may as well be offering him the world.

It's nearly enough to bring him to tears. Derek has no idea why, but he can see that Hotch is blushing (it's either that or crying) a little even in the creeping moonlight.

“Look at that, you're blushing,” Derek whispers, watching as Hotch takes the first bite of the peach. Juice trickles down his chin and he wipes at it with the back of his hand.

“You can't know that in this light.”

“I would know it in any light, Aaron Hotchner.”

They steal a blanket from the basket out on the back porch, the outside blankets that usually need a good shaking out before you can really trust them. They don't see much use these days. With it stashed under his arm, Hotch makes sure that Derek has one more of Sean's gifted goodies before he drags him out past the orchard and into the woods. They're thick and quiet, but Hotch is following a path he knows by heart, it's imprinted on his soul.

Now it's a hunter's platform, but it used to be a treehouse that all the kids would hide out in. With pails of fruit collected from any tree or bush bearing its gifts of the season, they would sit for hours and plot all sorts of world domination...at least the younger ones. The older ones used it as a hideaway to do a bit of exploring on physical planes. During the off season, when hunters are nowhere near, it belongs to the kids again, smoking and drinking and playing their games. Tonight, for Hotch, it is simply solace.

At the top, they can faintly make out the glow of the twinkle lights at Hotch's mother's home. They flicker tiny like fireflies, and it's a lot more pleasant from this vantage point. Derek sparks up his joint and sucks a hit deep into his lungs, and it's Hotch's turn this time to make the first move. He presses his lips to Derek's and opens his mouth, takes the burning earthy smoke into his own lungs deep. He lets it sit there, swirling its tendrils and spreading its warmth, breathes some out through his nose in his unwillingness to break the seal. He just wants the kiss. He would have taken it without the smoke, but tonight he isn't thinking about that...being home plays tricks with his mind, and at least this one isn't tripping him into the darkness.

“Your mom threw this whole party to see how you were doing...” Derek muses as they lay down side by side on the blanket and stare up into the tens of thousands of stars that have come out of hiding. The moon is huge and milky white, beckoning the stars into existence. Hotch sighs.

“She could have just asked.”

“You would have lied.”

They both laugh at that. It's easier to laugh right now. Hotch feels weightless, he's floating in the ocean of stars and not bothering much with trying to find any sense of gravity. Derek turns toward him and whispers something about being alone, everyone else is heading inside, the twinkle lights are going out and the party is dying down to embers. They can hear Sean's bellowing laugh and the sound of his guitar plunking through the trees, it's his show now. No one will come looking for them, Hotch knows that. He's no stranger to the many uses this platform is good for when you have a little something to take the edge off and a blanket. He's still the same quietly brooding, thrill seeking teenage boy when you tear down the walls he's built, he's realizing.

Before he had time to talk himself out of it with any sort of ill-timed logic (and he was getting so dangerously close, the more the thought about who else he'd brought up onto this platform), he was rolling onto his side and perching on top of Derek. Since Foyet's attack, their sex life hasn't exactly been great, and Derek has been more than understanding. He's been almost saintly. Right now, Hotch realizes as he straddles Derek's waist, is the first time he hasn't trudged through the familiar murky fields of worry and worthlessness...he just cups Derek's jaw in his hands and smiles. There is no hesitation, he bends down and kisses Derek hard and hungry until he could no sooner say no to this than he could stop staring at the silver moonlight reflected in Derek's surprised eyes. Derek's hands slide up and under his shirt, long fingers dancing along his spine, gripping his shoulders to pull him down and closer. He's unbuttoning Hotch's pants and then his own, wasting no time. The last of the lights have gone out at the house, even Sean has taken his party somewhere else, and they are alone with the crickets chirping and the frogs singing at the creek that babbles right along through the woods behind them. Under the canopy of trees and tasting like syrupy sweet peaches and stringent green smoke, Derek invites him in a husky and warm voice to do whatever he wants. “We've got all night...” he whispers, and he pulls Hotch close and kisses him again. And again.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #sean hotchner #hotchner family party #hotchgan #criminal minds

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year

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writer wednesday #18 - 11/02/2022

Happy Wednesday, everyone! Apologies for falling off the bike last week with this list - I had a weird one. But I’m back on the bike now, and I’m making up for the lack of list last week by going on a massive reblog spree for the rest of this week, so if you’re looking for things to read that will make you say WOW!” start with these three, and then stay tuned for more recs and reviews!

*as always, this list is ordered by length*

This Max Drabble by @cyantomatos

Max P x GN!Reader

October Writing Challenge

WC: ~500

Okay, first thing’s first: I typically don’t read a ton for Max P. Did I enjoy the movie? Yes, I laughed my ass off. Especially because when I first watched it, I worked in an office that was literally sucking my soul, so I found it v relatable. And would I let Max turn me or keep me as a pet or drain me as a snack in a heartbeat? You bet your bottom dollar I would. But I still don’t typically seek out fics for him - for no real reason, I’m realizing as I write this. This one though? This little drabble? It grabbed me by the throat and throttled my heart. This is certainly Max... but its Max like we’ve never seen him before, because its Max in the future, once he’s spent lifetimes living with someone who sees (and loves) him for who he is. Its a classic “love soothes the savage beast” but with a really beautiful and bittersweet twist that I don’t want to give away, but be prepared for this one to pull at your heartstrings. Yes, even though Max P is a four loko frat boy business student turned vampire boss. Trust me.

Hunter and Prey (part 1: The Girl With the Golden Eyes) by @mandosmistress

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Spooktober 🎃👻🦇

WC: 3k

OH BOY AM I STOKED ABOUT THIS ONE! Since this is the first part of a series, there’s some set up here, but it is fascinating. There’s absolutely great Din characterization. There’s an extremely intriguing Reader character. And there is hot fire when it comes to the chemistry between them. Because even though it’s just the beginning, there is still some intense smut here, and I for one can’t wait to see what happens when these two get their hands on one another again. And I can’t wait for him to learn who - and what - she is. I love it when Din is matched with someone who is just as capable and dangerous as he is, and that seems to be just what he’s dealing with here even if he doesn’t know it yet. Buckle in, Djarin, I think you’re in for a while ride (and I’m thrilled to get to take it, too!)

Stunt Double by @something-tofightfor

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (Locked Down universe)

Kinktober - Sex Toys

WC: 8.3k

Aside from maybe a modern Oberyn, I cannot think of a character who would enjoy (and make the most of ) making their own “stunt double” more than Dieter Bravo. This man is such a sexual being. Yes, by now we all know that there is more to him - especially this version (Locked Down) of Dieter. But a large part of who he is is someone who is adventurous and open minded when it comes to sexual exploration. And now that he’s got a partner who he trusts completely and who knows him inside and out and who would never judge him and who has been there for him through ups and downs and who he is head over heels in love with? This man is ready to chart entirely new territory. I absolutely love that almost everything that happens between them, no matter if its serious or fun or simple, always boils down to the solidity of their relationship. The actual smut in this one? HOT AS FUCK. But I’m just as dazed and dizzied by reading about their love and how damn strong it is. The bonus of getting Dieter Nye the Science Guy with this one is the cherry on top. #Science. This was flipping great, and I will be reading it over and over just like the rest of LD.

#three great things I read this week #writer wednesday #fic rec fic rec fic rec!!!#kinktober #spooktober #october fic recs #something tofightfor #mandosmistress #cyantomatoes #max phillips x reader #din djarin x female reader #dieter bravo x female reader

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nimble-stuff · 1 year

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My Bingo Power is Unmatched

XXI. Villainous Rescue || Mikey Mikey has a rematch with Hypno.

Fandom: ROTTMNT

Also on AO3

@badthingshappenbingo

<< PREVIOUS || NEXT >>

Mikey’s kusari-fundo arched in a wide, overcompensating circle, throwing Hypno off balance. He had to do a kind of skip and a few hops to stop himself from falling off the roof of the moving semi barrelling down the highway at unsafe speeds. The situation felt familiar.

There hadn’t been time to call for back-up from his brothers when he’d spotted Hypno robbing an antique store, but Mikey wasn’t too concerned. He could handle Hypno. That said, the situation was eerily similar to that one time Hypno had knocked him off the Turtle Tank and Mikey spent the next four weeks with his arm in a cast. For those four weeks, it was a constant deluge of fussing family members, forced inactivity, and constant repeats of ‘You got lucky’ and ‘Don’t strain yourself.’

This was different, though. The top of a semi driven by an ignorant driver was a little wider, and without his brothers hovering over his shoulder, Mikey thrived.

He ducked the chakrams Hypno threw. First one. Another, Mikey snatched the third out of the air and threw it at Hypno’s stunned face. Hypno smashed downward. Weight over precision. It gave Mikey the opening he’d been looking for since the fistfight began. His kusari-fundo ensnared Hypno’s ankles, flipping him over. His top-heaviness, the source of his strength, was his undoing. He went down, chin bouncing first off the roof of the van, then off of Mikey’s foot as he rammed his ankle between his eyes.

Mikey let out a whoop of triumph, twirling a chakram on his pointer finger.

“Turtle power, baby!” Mikey gloated.

The Turtle Power high lasted for all of two seconds when his face slammed full-force into the underside of a bridge.

Mikey should’ve seen it coming. If one of his brothers was there, they would’ve shouted out a warning. He’d been looking down at Hypno though, and was just tall enough that when concrete-met-face with bruising force, he went flying.

Oh. So this was happening again.

Maybe it was payback for the gloat. In the brief moments as he watched the ground hurtle up towards him, Mikey thought about all the I-told-you-sos and be-more-carefuls. Damn, the last time he’d gotten hurt like this, they’d babied him for weeks. He was not looking forward to that. Donnie generally stayed off his back, and Splinter was still a cautious parent who toed a careful balancing act between protective and keeping his distance too often. But April, Leo, and Raph. Holy shit, April, Leo, and Raph would never leave him alone. The thought was almost more painful than the strike imminently coming to give him the worst headache of his life.

Mikey watched the road hurdle up towards him, closer and closer and filling him with inevitable, unstoppable horror. He knew that his best chance of avoiding serious injury was letting his limbs go limp, of releasing tension, but he just couldn’t stop. His body acted of its own accord, muscles going taut, prepared for the blow.

It didn’t come.

Mikey remembered the distinctive force with which he’d hit the ground when this had happened before, so knew what to expect. It didn’t come. Instead, his body jostled and started flying in another direction, and there was a puff of light pink smoke that flooded his vision and tasted like cherries on his tongue.

He came to a stop.

Mikey dared to open his eyes.

Hypno was holding him under his arm, football style. They were on a rooftop, looking down at the underpass where Mikey made his near-fatal collision with the bridge. His face throbbed something awful from the strike.

Hypno, very gingerly, very slowly, set Mikey right side up and set him down. Mikey didn’t know which of them looked more surprised.

“Um…” Mikey looked at the underpass, to Hypno, forming the connection. “Did…Did you just stop me from face-planting on the road?”

“I…I think so,” said Hypno, sounding under-confident. “I think I did, yes.”

Hypno looked at a loss for words. He crouched down, settling a hand over his heart. Mikey was wobbly from the adrenaline. No, he didn’t have a concussion—the world was too steady for that. This definitely wasn’t a head trauma induced hallucination. Hypno had saved him.

“Okay,” said Mikey. “Why?”

“Your brothers terrify me,” said Hypno.

“They’re not that scary.”

“No, no. They’re terrifying, trust me.”

“Proof?”

“Well, after the last time you, uh, fell off a moving object, they were a little unhappy with me.”

Mikey had been homebound for weeks after the Turtle Tank incident. None of them had ever brought up seeing Hypno after the fact, but in retrospect, them going to give him hell was an obvious, inevitable outcome, one Mikey should have known happened.

“Sorry,” said Mikey. “They’re a little protective.”

“Protective?!” Hypno turned to Mikey. “They threatened to pluck out my moustache hair-by-hair, and a man’s facial hair is sacred.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m still looking for a baldness cure.”

“Then, they beat me up and left me strung up over the hippopotamus enclosure at the zoo like a slab of meat. Do you know how dangerous hippopotamuses are?! The blue one took pictures and said he’d post them all over the internet if let anything happen to you again!”

“You’re kind of a bad guy. It’s your job to beat me up.”

“Well, yes, but if I did any permanent damage, it’s my life on the line. I already had enough of a major life change when I turned into…” Hypno motioned down to his hulking body. “I would rather not have another one if one of your brothers come back and break my neck.”

“Oh, they’d never do anything like that!…Well, Donnie might, but Raph and Leo would never!”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Would it help if I said ‘thank you?’”

Hypno drummed his fingers on his knees, looking suspicious and uncomfortable. Mikey didn’t blame him. What was the proper protocol when one of his usual villains had saved him from another broken arm?

“Thank you,” Mikey said. “And sorry about my brothers.”

Hypno cleared his throat, then said, “Well, I am sorry about what happened last time. It truly was an accident.”

“I know. Maybe next time we fight, it shouldn’t be on something that moves.”

“Yes, please. Nice solid ground works much better for a fight, like pavement! Big fan of pavement.”

“Personally, I’m a fan of shag carpet.”

“Oh, that takes me back. I’ve been telling Warren it would look great in the living room, though I have yet to sell him on the idea.”

“You could probably find one at that antique store. Why’re you going around robbing antique stores anyway?”

“I have to make a living somehow.”

Hypno stood up and brushed off his pants, straightening his askew jacket. He pat Mikey on the shoulder with all the fondness of a weird uncle, and Mikey debated the merits of inviting him and Warren over for Thanksgiving dinner. It was an odd image to imagine the pair sitting with the Hamatos, all glaring at each other. Then again, Draxum was going to, so maybe it wouldn’t be so strange to have some more villains stop by for turkey.

“And I’d like to continue making a living,” said Hypno. “So if you could keep your brothers from killing me, I’d be most appreciative.”

#nimble writes #badthingshappenbingo #rottmnt #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt hypno-potamus

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watching-pictures-move · 1 year

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The Roger Moore Morally Compromised Mini-Marathon | Shout at the Devil (Hunt, 1976), Gold (Hunt, 1974) & The Wild Geese (McLaglen, 1978)

Mild spoilers below.

There's plenty you'll have to wince through when watching Shout at the Devil, which depicts the African continent as a playground for white adventurers, which relentlessly infantilizes its black characters while lingering over their dead bodies after they've been violently killed, which has as its most prominent African character a mute played by a white actor who is all too eager to hang villagers, and which has a character go undercover in blackface during the climax, as a cherry on top of a big ol' racist sundae. And this is not to mention that it asks us to root for an entirely self-interested ivory smuggler and features a poaching sequence so exuberant that the heroes are practically high-fiving each other as they kill a shitload of elephants. (Although a disclaimer assures us no animals were harmed during the making of the movie.) Unsurprisingly, the movie was produced in Apartheid era South Africa.

But I think Roger Ebert in his review, despite glossing over the film's issues, gets at its essence pretty succinctly, correctly noting that it's about the unironic embrace of jungle adventure movie with all its pleasures and idiosyncrasies. And if you can wince through all those aforementioned elements (and it's perfectly okay if you can't), you find much to enjoy here, starting with the team-up of Lee Marvin and Roger Moore, in incorrigible scoundrel mode and dashing but self-deprecating mode, respectively. Even the introduction of Barbara Parkins as Marvin's daughter and Moore's love interest doesn't sink the film, as Parkins is able to complement both of their performances pretty nicely and give the movie a bit of heart. Everybody knows all girls have cooties, but Parkins and the movie take measures to mitigate their spread.

There's also the fact that Peter Hunt, who directed one of the best Bond movies and edited a few others of similar pedigree, is a really good action director. There's one great scene where the heroes ambush a German convoy going down a hill, and the sense of diagonal movement snowballs, powered by both the astute editing and the unexpectedly gruesome violence, which, along with all the dicier elements, makes this feel like an exploitation movie despite the A-grade production values.

Compared to Shout at the Devil, Gold, an earlier collaboration between Peter Hunt and Roger Moore is maybe a bit easier to get through, in that it offers some semblance of self critique for choosing to film in Apartheid South Africa. Here, the gold mining industry is depicted as a purely amoral enterprise, the kind that is happy to kill off its own employees for short term gain, or, you could infer, maybe do business with a repressive regime. And it shows at least nominal sympathy for its black characters (and treats them as actual characters). A lot of the movie is about traversing through corporate politics, which I probably find more interesting to watch than the average viewer (a bizarre side effect of being a business major), although it must be said that Moore has great chemistry with his co-star Susannah York, and we get a pretty appealing performance from Ray "Dial M for Murder" Milland as the gruff patriarch. Hunt's talents as an editor are somewhat underused, but I like the way he presents the mine as one big machine, with a series of moving parts working in unison, all integral to its proper functioning. All that being said, the fate meted out to the villains feels like something from a dumber movie, and for some reason there's a Bond style theme song and opening credit sequence but with gold mining instead of racy silhouettes. (If you want more serious Moore, I'll recommend The Man Who Haunted Himself, which makes a pretty nice case for his acting talents and gives him some unexpected vulnerability. Also, he has a mustache.)

And of course I had to cap off my Roger Moore morally compromised mini-marathon with a rewatch of The Wild Geese, a movie that I've grown a real affection for, thanks to both familiarity, and the fact I'm a sucker for these old school men on a mission movies. Listen, the politics here are awful, and even more cringeworthy is the movie's attempt to hide it by pairing the deposed African president the heroes rescue with the most racist member of the group. Winston Ntshona and Hardy Kruger, the actors playing the president and the racist, respectively, both took their roles hoping for a serious movie about racism and African geopolitics. That seriousness did not materialize in the finished film, which resolves these issues with a quick conversation by the one hour thirty-two minute mark, at which point it can get back to shooting and blowing stuff up. For what it's worth, Ntshona and Kruger are actually committing to the material, and Kruger is especially good, although the movie plays its hand by allowing Kruger to articulate his mixture of racial resentment and isolationist views with unusual clarity while saddling Ntshona with vague platitudes. (And if you think racism is the movie's only questionable stance, it also relentlessly pokes fun at the one gay character, although it does eventually give him some good scenes.)

A bit easier to enjoy, perhaps at the movie's expense, are the presence of Richards Burton and Harris. I understand both of them were not allowed to drink during the production, and while I am not a good enough judge of alcoholism to tell if they look hungover from sneaking sips at night between shooting hours, or angry because they haven't been able to drink, there's an undeniable booze-adjacent contempt in their performances. (For what it's worth, Harris looks more cheerful, but I've found him the more innately energetic actor from experience.) The other big star is Moore, who gets by on his natural charisma but isn't as good as he is in Shout at the Devil or Gold or his Bond movies.

Honestly, for the first half, the movie seems to be rather badly made, shooting scenes in the most drab, limp way possible and resolving every confrontation with as few hiccups as possible. An attempt to rescue a character being hunted by the mafia ends with the mafia abruptly lifting all the contract put out on him. The siege on the base where the president is being held ends with no losses for the heroes, the guards all being sprayed with cyanide gas in their sleep or killed instantly with a crossbow. These characters are supposed to be highly trained professionals who can do this in their sleep, and that's basically how it plays, for better or worse. But complications do eventually arise, and the movie thankfully gets a lot more exciting. There's a half hour or so in the third act where the characters are retreating through the bush from a rapidly advancing army while trying to secure an exit, depicted as a near constant stream of close quarters gunfights and on-the-fly defensive tactics. As limp as Andrew V. McLaglen's direction is in the first half, he wisely gets out of his own way here, moving things along at a fast clip and letting the shooting, bleeding, dust and wilderness do the talking. (For something that feels tonally like a classic WWII era actioner, complete with rousing score, it's quite a bit bloodier than you'd expect.) It's a great action scene, and goes a long way in warming me up to this movie.

#film #movie review #shout at the devil #gold #the wild geese #peter r. hunt #andrew v. mclaglen #roger moore

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tinyshe · 2 months

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Garden Report & Frugal Living 24.03.02

"If March comes in like a lion, it will go out like a lamb." Yes, yes and hopefully yes ... there's a nice crust of hail blanketing everything and more to come, eventually and opportunity for setting the stage for snow right down to the sea. It [snow] is promised not to get too deep nor stay too long but in the meantime, idiots in automobiles will be the bane to the sane. Best stay in and bake something enticing.

I'm not too worried about the seeds I did plant. Carrots are slow to germ and probably will enjoy the ice blanket on top of the leaf mulch I left them. Radish are rugged and the spinach, idk (I was dreaming of lasagna but the moment has passed). I didn't get the toms sown in pots. I really want them in the laundry room but people can't stop throwing their clothes on top of the clothes drier (where I want the toms to live). But I will have to get serious here soon. Maybe a little temporary fold down ledge(s) in the upper section of the window for them to live?

Yesterday was beastly and I was peeking at the fruit trees. The quince is holding their blossoms tightly curls so there may be a chance for them if the wind doesn't circle too tight in their plot and cause some sever hail stone strikes. Its located in a semi protected space. But the hail stones keep growing in diameter today. The Burbank plum hasn't gone to full bloom; it is very hesitant this year (still un-pruned to boot). Still too early for apples or pears. The Asian pear use to bloom early but not seeing any sign yet -- but that can change so quickly, what I see and what I don't! I was caught off guard by a bumble bee mid week, stood there dumbfounded. She must have a nest in the garden and got warmed enough to venture out! The borage is in bloom (both blue and the white) so that may have also enticed her out. The blue berries are also starting an attempt at flowering.

The hens do not like this weather and complain loudly about the whipping trees and the bickering sparrows clinging to the branched. This morning it was hard to lure Bronte out -- she was having none of it, not even for warm oatmeal gruel. And of course, if she's not coming out, none of the other girls are allowed past big butt Bronte because she stands in the doorway bitching. Each have given an egg this week; they are getting old but I still love them. Still itching to get some pullets (maybe 4) because I just don't want to manage chicks and we need the eggs. The thought of quail or pigeons still pop up on occasion but so do rabbits.

Harvesting swiss chard and a few turnips that over wintered. The potted sweet marjoram/ oregano has been nice to have to flavour the soup pots. This winter's freezes though cracked the large terracotta it was living in so need to re-pot soon as it sheared right off leaving a large section of roots exposed. We should have leeks here in a bit before they want to put effort into flower. The nettles are just starting to show up for Spring. The bay tree I keep bound in a pot needs some trimming. I also need to see if the tap root has found the drain hole!

Frugal tip today is simple: wear a hat. You can wear a warm hat in the house and even to bed to conserve some of your own body heat. Ladies, you can wear a head scarf/kerchief -- looking lovely and staying warm. Finger-less gloves, even if compression gloves, also give a bit of protection from the chill.

Be blessed! Get in the garden and if you don't have one think about your space. Can you do a container garden? Hanging basket like a salade bowl or trailing cherry toms? No space -- how about growing nutritious sprouts on your counter or herbs in your window? Now is the perfect time to start growing some of your own foods.

#catholic gardener #garden #gardening #fruit trees #berry bushes #spring weather #over wintering crops #hens #permaculture #urban homesteading #edible landscape #grow your own food #container gardening #growing sprouts #garden report #frugal living #wear a hat or scarf indoors #fingerless gloves #compression gloves

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fmhiphop · 8 months

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Hitting The Jackpot: The Albums Of 2023 Raking In Spotify Millions

Come geek out as we unveil the estimated revenue streaming in from Spotify for this year's hottest albums! The masterminds over at Music Industry How To have dipped their toes into the ocean of Spotify streaming data. The reason? To give us the scoop on 2023's top albums when it comes to revenue. These albums might not have dropped this year, but they're making bank in 2023 faster than you can blink. Music stars are dancing their way to your eardrums and your pockets! And the revenue scorecard wasn't scribbled in crayon. Nope, it's a serious business involving song streams, payment per stream (approximately $0.004), and a whole lot of mathematical jazz. Every time you hit play, it's like dropping some change into the artist's digital piggy bank! 1. The Weeknd's "The Highlights" Claims Number One Spot Right now, we've got an album that's topping the national charts and holding the number one position on this list of total streams. We're talking about the 2021 release, "The Highlights" by The Weeknd! This album brings 23 billion Spotify streams and counting! How many earbuds does that translate to? And if that's not enough to make your teeth clench, it's pulling in over $9.2 million ($9,228,499 possibly) in the process! The pinnacle of this album – "Blinding Lights," is the catchy track we can't get out of our heads. However, it's not just the most streamed song from the album, it's a total hit in its own right. Originally unleashed as a 2019 single, it's pulled in $1,468,012, all thanks to those 3.6 billion Spotify streams. Could we please take a moment to appreciate how many times that play button has been pressed? Listen to" The Highlights" here! 2. Ed Sheeran's Streaming And Revenue Triumph Second place goes to...? Ed Sheeran's 2017 smash-hit release "÷ (Divide)." “ ÷ (Divide),” the album we've been loving has managed to clock over 13 billion Spotify streams. It's been on a never-ending world tour in the digital universe, am I right? In addition, those Spotify streams are potential revenue sources. We're talking about almost $5 million ($5,389,556 maybe). So, while you're jamming to Ed's tunes, his album is busy turning streams into dollars. The chart-topping cherry on this musical cake is the world-famous "Shape of You." This song has demolished the Spotify charts with over 3.5 billion streams, and wait for it... a potential earning of $1,416,179! Ed must be living the life of a king if he can turn streams into dollars like that! He's practically a modern-day Scrooge McDuck. Listen to÷ (Divide) here. 3. Eminem's Return To The Limelight With "Curtain Call 2" Eminem is back in the spotlight with his 2022 album "Curtain Call 2." This awesome record makes its grand entrance, landing the third spot on the list of all lists. And just in case you're wondering, we're talking about total streams – yes, those eargasmic plays that make you lose yourself in your groove! "Curtain Call 2" earned $4.5 million (or maybe a few cents more, precisely $4,503,696 potentially) from 11 billion Spotify streams. Those zeros are rolling in like a parade! It's time to flashback to 2010 when things were a bit more "Love The Way You Lie." Eminem's killer collab with Rihanna has been streamed over 1.2 billion times on Spotify, and this earworm is raking in as much as $488,554! Listen to Curtain Call 2 here! 4. "Lose Yourself" Keeps Winning: Eminem's 2002 Hit Still Strikes Gold As a testament to Eminem's exceptional talent, he also took home fourth place with his 2005 album, "Curtain Call – The Hits." Despite being almost two decades old, this piece is like the fine wine of music, only getting better with time! Furthermore, this old-school gem is showing the young guns how it's done, sitting pretty at the seventh spot on the national charts. It's like it said, "Age is just a number, I'm here to rock those charts!" And now, for the big reveal! "Curtain Call - The Hits" has danced its way to 10 billion Spotify streams! The whole world is plugging in their earphones just to vibe with Eminem. But who wouldn’t? Those streams add up to $4.1 million! That's not pocket change, that's a music empire! But we're not done yet! The superstar of this album, "Lose Yourself," released in 2002, is still bringing in the cash. With over 1.8 billion Spotify streams, the "Not Afraid" rapper is turning every stream into gold coins. Before we move on to the next artist, would you like to know the amount of cheddar that equals? $724,233! Now that we know that, it’s safe to say that his lyrics are becoming true – "His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy" – but this time, it's with the weight of Spotify streams and revenue! Listen to "Curtain Call - The Hits" here. Queen's "Greatest Hits" Album Dominates Decades Later The rock legends, Queen, are making a comeback like no other with their release "Greatest Hits"! This album, released way back in 1981, has resurfaced with a bang, taking fifth place on the charts! This decades-old compilation made its presence known among the top 20. Amazing! Queen's music has received over 10 billion Spotify streams to date. It’s raking in $4.1 million (that's a lot of zeros, and we're not just talking about the stream count!). However, the ultimate jam that's driving the Spotify frenzy is "Bohemian Rhapsody." With this iconic masterpiece, originally released in their 1975 album "A Night at the Opera," they are sweeping the streaming world by storm. Think about the genius behind this song earning roughly $871,854 from 2.1 billion Spotify streams. Such riches can be reaped by a rhapsody, who would have thought? Listen to "Greatest Hits" here. Olivia Rodrigo's Album "Sour" Hits Big Money Notes Zooming in at sixth place is Olivia Rodrigo's chart-busting album of 2021 – "Sour"! But have you checked out the digits on this thing? 10 billion Spotify streams, people! Her music travels through the intergalactic jukebox, giving every alien a taste of Rodrigo's musical magic. Nonetheless, this album's not just a treat for the ears; it's also making a serious dent in the wallet department. There's nearly $4 million($3,954,628 potentially) hoofing its way into Rodrigo's bank account. As we speak, those Spotify streams are having a field day, and this album's money-making journey is far from done. Because our girl Rodrigo is dropping hints about a sophomore album! Listen to "Sour" here. "Diamonds" Album's Revenue Through Spotify Streams The top ten are about to be explored like never before! The countdown continues with a sparkling entry that's got us on our toes – it's Elton John's 2017 work of art, "Diamonds," landing like a shining comet in seventh place. This greatest hits compilation album is practically showering with a potential earning of $3,632,250, all thanks to those Spotify streams. But, here's the real question that's tickling our musical curiosity: Have you rocked out to "Diamonds" on repeat? And who wouldn't want to earn the title of "Official Elton John's Diamonds Dance Champion" by shaking a leg or two? As we journey through this musical galaxy, who else is pumped to discover what gems await in the top spots? I know I am! Listen to "Diamonds" here. Arctic Monkeys' "AM" Album And Its Digital Wealth In a smashing eighth place, we've got the 2013 album release, "AM" by the Arctic Monkeys. This brilliant piece has Spotify streams pouring in, perhaps making $2,816,270. In 2013, the Arctic Monkeys dropped "AM," and suddenly, the music universe was in for a treat. Fast forward to today, and those Spotify streams are like a digital cash register, cha-chinging to a possible fortune. Isn't that the kind of jackpot every band dreams of hitting? And not a couple of pennies here and there. No, siree! I'm talking serious dough, the kind that could make even a pirate blush with envy. So, who's streaming "AM" on repeat? Is your playlist filled with those Arctic Monkeys' beats? And most importantly, have you contributed to that potential $2,816,270 fortune with your own streaming addiction? Listen to "AM" here. "Harry's House" Album And Its Continuous Revenue Dance Harry Styles and his 2022 album, "Harry's House" is the talk of the town, holding down that ninth place with style and pizzazz. But how much revenue is this musical marvel bringing in from the valley of Spotify? The music is playing, fans are cheering, and Harry Styles owns the stage on his "Love on Tour." But that tour ain't just about music – it's about bucks raining down too! So, while Harry's been busy making hearts swoon on tour, his album's been pulling in those sweet Spotify streams, likely adding up to $2,342,310. You see, as Harry Styles wraps up his spellbinding tour, his album is still rocking the virtual stage, pulling in those digital dimes with every Spotify play. A musical encore that never ends! Now, let's toss in a sprinkle of humor, shall we? What can $2,342,310 could buy? Maybe a yacht made entirely of glitter or a private island shaped like a guitar? But until then, raise a virtual toast to Harry Styles and his chart-topping groove – may the music keep playing and the revenue keeps rolling in! Listen to "Harry's House" here. The Power Of Charting: Lewis Capaldi's Album Hauling In Millions The numbers game is on, and Lewis Capaldi and his rockin' 2019 album, “Divinely Uninspired To A Hellish Extent,” is taking part in it! Right on the tenth spot of our chart, this record lugs in $2,243,310 from those groove-inducing Spotify streams. If any artist can get their album into the top ten, they're not just breaking records, they're making millions. Imagine an album that walks into that top-tier club and, voilà, they're potentially scoring an average of $4.2 million from around 10.5 billion Spotify streams. They're basically turning those streams into a gold rush! Listen to "Divinely Uninspired To A Hellish Extent" here. A Spokesperson's View On Albums' International Popularity A spokesperson for Music Industry How To commented on the findings, saying: “The findings highlight the remarkable success achieved by several albums, showcasing the immense popularity and appeal they have garnered among listeners worldwide.” “This study shows the power of music to captivate audiences and the ability of certain albums to resonate deeply with a diverse range of listeners. The results emphasize the continued importance of streaming platforms in shaping the success of modern-day music and the significant impact these albums have made within the industry.” Written by Nikiya Biggs | LinkedIn | Facebook | Twitter Follow and like FMHipHop on Twitter, Spotify, Facebook, YouTube, and Instagram! Read the full article

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rebelichor · 11 months

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Nightcity was as colorful, shitty, loud, exciting and merciless as ever. But they both were used to it. Ari had grown up here and Enok had adapted over the past few months. It was the perfect opportunity playground - and Enok would never move away again. Nah, he had lost his fucking nomad-heart here. Sounded like some cheap porn plot - or even a cheap romance novel. But he couldn‘t image spending the nights away from Ariadne anymore.

This evening should be special. Taking her out on a date, Enok‘s arm laid around her and his other hand was clutching the little metal box with the ring in it all nervously.

„Okay, babe, that eatery certainly was nova, but I wanna show you somethin different.“

Enok had a plan. A good one. Just a small walk away, through the streets with the holo cherry trees. Then into a building, up to the top of the roofs. There he had planned a small surprise. He might not be able to show her the real stars in Nightcity, but he was able to recreate them with a few lamps and holo projections and candles… shit looked quite good. And there he could ask THE question.

He was so eager for this, he almost missed the growing louder argument in the street ahead of them. Some gangs hollering at each other.

What fucktards. They were in the way. Usually they had no issues just ignoring such shit…. but this sounded fucked serious. So Enok‘s fingers tightened in Ariadne‘s waist, but he didn‘t nudge her to turn around yet.

„Ugh… lets go around that. They sound off the rails.“

Enok had been acting different. He reminded her of Ivar when the washing machine started its spin cycle — one moment he was cool and calm, the next he was leaping sky high. He was being all jumpy. Like he was worried about a skeleton falling out of his pocket.

It all started around their apartment. Ariadne went to grab his jacket for a sniff test, maybe to wash, maybe to wear. That lit a fire up Enok's ass. He moved so fast from their bed she wasn't even sure if his feet fucking touched the ground.

She tried to ask him what the fuck that had all been about but he played it off like no big deal. Fine.

Then came today. Enok was always more than happy for her to take the wheel when it came to their daily plans, but he was adamant about returning to Japantown at exactly this time for food. Now, when she offered a place to eat, he knocked that back too.

"You're up to something, you shithead." Ariadne narrowed her eyes on her boyfriend. His grin made her own lips twitch up, no matter how much she was trying NOT to smile at him in that moment.

The argument in the distance was mere background noise. Usually shouting between gangs would have prickled at more of her common sense, but Ariadne didn't feel in danger. Not with Enok at her side. And certainly not when they were in such a nice part of Night City.

"Tch. Fucking psychos." she commented offhandedly. If she had looked properly, she may have acted different. May have done the smart fucking thing. Because this was more than shit within a gang, it was Tyger Claws having a run-in with Animals. There was going to be blood painting the nice streets.

She never expected it would be her own.

Ariadne heard gunshots. Then it was like... the world started to fall away. Small holes bloomed across her gold leather and pristine white. Just another rich kid painted blood red, marked with death.

Her eyes barely caught Enok's. It was only because one off his hands steadied her face that she even looked at him. She made a scared noise. Pained and pathetic. But she couldn't form words. Her last moments were spent drowning as though she were underwater, but it was her own blood choking her, spilling out too much too fast, too much damage from that spray of bullets.

Ariadne's eyes remained open, looking but not seeing. She wasn't just fading. Her body was already beyond a point of any return.

#enokvirkow #answered #tw: blood #tw: death #verse; Cyberpunk (rebirth)#:')

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harryscherrypie · 2 years

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Would you write something about Harry and the reader having a big fight? Like really heartbreaking but with fluff in the end? Pretty please with a cherry on top

Thank you so muchhh it helped me to write, I hope you like it.

If you like this, please like and reblog, it would help very much

An Argument

You walked into your apartment, eyes brimming with tears. It was supposed to be a happy day, you just got the working opportunity of your lifetime, but you just felt empty. You were an aspiring fashion designer. Your ideas were fresh and were even praised by the famous fashion designers your boyfriend worked with many times, and you just got a job, working for a pretty famous fashion house to design a few pieces into their summer collection. But something was missing.

Your boyfriend of 3 years was nowhere to be seen. He promised he would be there, how could he miss it? You asked yourself as you locked the door behind you. You put your shoes down and moved towards the living room, where you took a seat on the couch.

Before you and Harry started dating, you were best friends since childhood. You were there for him on every single special occasion of his life. His first concert with his first band, his Xfactor audition, his very first tour with One Direction, his first solo tour, and many more, why couldn’t he make time for just one of your special occasions.

Special occasions like these didn’t happen in your life. Occasions, which would change your entire life. But it happened, and he wasn’t there.

You angrily wiped your tears as you unbuttoned your shirt and threw it on the back of the couch. You went to your shared bedroom and picked out some clothes to change into, especially making sure that none are Harry’s. You knew that it was mildly petty, but you were too pissed off to care.

You changed into a large shirt and some sweat pants and moved in the direction of the kitchen to cook some quick dinner and eat it.

You decided on some pasta with pesto and garlic and angrily cooked the food. You cooked the pasta and as you waited for it to cool off a bit, you pulled out some pesto from your fridge and squashed some garlic with the side of the knife. You also decided to put some bacon on a pan, fry it in its own oil, and put it on the pasta.

When you prepared the dish, you sat down on the couch in the living room and angrily turned on the TV. What you really needed was a good crime show to get your mind off of Harry.

About 3 episodes of criminal minds later, the front door opened and your breath got stuck in your throat. You heard him take off his shoes, hang his coat, and put his keys into the key bowl. You sat up straight and waited for him to come into the room and explain himself.

A few moments later he shuffled into the room and immediately made his way towards the couch. He greeted you, kissed your cheek, and plopped onto the empty space beside you.

“How was your day, my love?” he had the nerve to ask you. You looked at him with an ‘are you serious’ expression on your face and he pulled back, looking puzzled.

“Hey love, what’s wrong,” he carefully asked breathed out a harsh breath. You needed to calm yourself down because you knew you would cry if spoke right away.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe that I had an important work thing and you weren’t there? We talked about it Harry and you didn’t come, I tried to call you like 12 times,” you threw your hands in the air as you complained.

“Wait but that was supposed to be next week,” he tried to defend himself.

“No, Harry, it was this week. We even have it written in the calendar in the kitchen.” you pointed towards the direction of the kitchen and he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t even look into that thing,” he answered back, trying to defend himself.

“That’s not the point Harry,” you raised your voice, slowly but surely getting fed up with his behavior.

“I’ve been there for you on every single special occasion of your career, and occasions that didn’t have to do anything with it, all I asked of you was to be there with me, and you missed it, and your excuse is that you don’t look into the calendar?” you shook your head in disbelief and Harry stood up.

“Look I just had some stuff to do in the studio, my head was full of ideas I didn’t want to lose time,” he answered and immediately cut himself off with wide eyes.

“Oh yeah right, excuse me Mr. Famous Rockstar that me getting my first job in the field of my uni study isn’t exciting or fun enough for you, I’ll keep that in mind for the future,” you huffed out and he quickly moved closer to you.

“Baby wait, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry I just...” you cut him off as you raised your hand.

“Save it, I don’t want to hear it,” you said harshly and moved towards your bedroom.

“Wait what are you doing?” Harry asked as he saw you took out a blanket and an extra pillow.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” you announced and he blocked your path by standing in the doorway.

“C’mon (Y/N) let’s just talk it out I’m sorry,” he pleaded and you shook your head.

“Let me through Harry, I really don’t have patience for this right now, we’ll talk in the morning,” you said and moved around him into the living room. You started to fix the couch to make it more comfortable for sleeping as Harry watched you.

“At least let me do this for you, baby,” he tried but you dropped the blanket you were holding and glared at him.

“Leave me alone Harry, I can’t look at you right now,” you said loudly and he stepped back, nodding.

“Okay, as you want,” he smiled sadly and walked towards your bedroom. When he was in the door he turned around and called out.

“Goodnight, I love you, I’m sorry,” he waited for a few moments, hoping that you would say goodnight back, but you stayed quiet. He sighed out and slightly closed the doors to the bedroom.

You let out a harsh breath and wiped the stray tears that escaped your eye. You held back the tears for the whole night and couldn’t do it anymore. You quickly finished making the couch and then quickly hopped under the covers. Surprisingly, you didn’t cry much more that night, you just fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to a quiet apartment. The doors to your bedroom were opened and when you peaked in, Harry was nowhere to be seen. When you looked into the hallway his shoes, keys, and coat were missing, meaning he went out. You huffed out and walked into the kitchen, where you made a cup of herbal tea.

You went on Instagram, checked your feed, and scrolled through TikTok for a bit. After 20 minutes, your mug was almost empty, the front door opened and Harry walked in. He was on the phone with someone.

“No look,” he sighed

“I told you 20 minutes ago, I will come to the studio next week, tell someone that it’s free so they can do their own thing,” he talked as he kicked off his shoes.

“Okay, I have to hang up now, bye, oh and one more thing, if you can, don’t call me until next week, thanks,” He hung up, took off his coat, and walked into the kitchen.

He was wearing sweat pants, one of your hoodies, and his hair was pinned up into his little plant hairstyle. He was holding 2 paper bags and a cardboard cup holder with two drinks in it.

He looked up from his phone and stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

“Oh hey, good morning,” he greeted and set down the bags and cups on the kitchen counter.

“Hey,” you greeted softly and nodded your head towards the paper bags.

“What’s in there?” you asked and he opened it, revealing your favorite chocolate muffins from a bakery an hour away from you.

“Wanted to do something to make it up for me missing yesterday, my love I am so sorry I missed it,” He took your hands into his and stroked your knuckles with his thumbs.

“And I am especially sorry that I said that I was too busy, I didn’t mean it like that,” he apologized as he looked straight into your eyes. You smiled sadly.

“That hurt me, when you insinuated that it wasn’t that big of a deal to you, it really hurt.” You explained and he took your face in his hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he kissed your cheek lightly and you nuzzled into his hand.

“To make it up to you, I took a week-long break from the studio, we can spend time together,” he smiled and you nodded.

“That sounds nice, just promise me one thing,” you asked and he hummed.

“Promise me you’ll start reading the calendar,” you joked and he nodded.

“Whatever you want,” he kissed your forehead and pulled you closer to him. You rested your head below his chin and he placed his lips on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry my love,” he whispered.

“I know love, I know,” you weren’t quite ready to fully forgive him, but you were pretty sure he would make it up to you. Plus, you couldn��t stay mad at him for a long time.

-----

Soo I got covid so I have more time on my hands, I will probably write so look out. Hope you liked this little piece.

Take care <3

#fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #my writing

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idiacide · 2 years

Note

First of all bless for making a gender neutral blog! also, i’m not sure if this is too far into oc territory for you, but if it’s fine, maybe some romantic headcanons for the staff with an mc in their like mid 20s or smth (or an adult at least), so instead of being a student they get assigned to them as like a ta or smth? sorry if this is too convoluted 😅

As a genderqueer person it was always kind of frustrating to me to swim through a pretty constant sea of fem!reader, especially when it was headcanons that didn’t particularly need to be gendered. Glad to see other people are responding to it! I’m gonna leave the age vague for basic comfort level (since Trein is 58) but this should fit the basic gist of it. Also I’m sticking with the academic staff for this because I don’t feel I have enough of a grasp on Sam just yet to comfortable write him. Some light nsfw ahead.

Dire Crowley: -You’re his secretary/personal assistant/gofer/sometimes, you swear, therapy dog that he carries around in a little purse

-Crowley keeps you busy constantly with constant campus antics (and, let’s be real, his own unwillingness to fix problems that he often causes). Still, there are decided perks. He never fails to express his gratitude, and he is very vocal about his respect for your own abilities. Pay is nothing to sneeze at either, and free room and board are just the cherry on top

-Despite his tendency to overhype his own benevolence Crowley really is a very generous man, in his way. He’s ready to lend a sympathetic ear when he can, and while he may not always be super helpful he’s always ready to be asked when his services can be of use.

-Getting romantically involved with Dire means getting to see a little more of his serious side. He’s so much of a character around everyone else that you kind of doubt anyone would believe you about what he’s like when you’re alone together. He can be genuinely a very tender and soothing partner, with the faintest bit of edge that keeps things fresh.

-And that edge does come through. He’ll say things occasionally with the strangest hint of prophecy, jokes that aren’t really jokes. There’s the faintest hints of a possessive streak as well. Not so much expressed in terms of jealousy, just....there’s something peculiarly inescapable about him. Like this is a man who would move heaven and earth just to make sure you were where he could see you

-.....Its probably fine : )

-Surprisingly, he’s a bit of a stickler for work/life boundaries. On the clock you’re back to your roles of boss and assistant with very little exchange of affection beyond basic friendliness. There are always fresh flowers on your desk, though, and he’s much less presumptuous of your time than he was initially.

-He gets very weepy if you make the two of you lunches to share. Very dramatic. Don’t mind him he’s a sucker for domesticity.

Divus Crewel: -You’re his teaching assistant, a position that includes inventory on the many ingredients he uses in the potions classroom, grading on exams and take home assignments, helping him with live demonstrations, and giving a few dedicated lessons of your own. As well as taking in his dry cleaning (this line of work is very hard on his clothes even with as careful as he is).

-It should surprise exactly no one that Divus is a very exacting boss. You do the job until its done right, and if you don’t do it right then you do it again and again until you’ve perfected it.

-Still, he’s also very fair. He makes appropriate note of effort and he doesn’t hold you to any standards he doesn’t also hold himself to. Screwups are punished, but successes are rewarded. He wouldn’t have taken you on for this position if he wasn’t well assured of your competence. He just wants you to demonstrate that potential fully.

-As a partner he fulfills nearly every expectation, albeit with not a lot of warmth. Divus isn’t particularly effusive emotionally. “Warm regard” really is a fitting turn of phrase for how he views you. That doesn’t mean you’re treated coldly, though. Far from it, off the clock he is almost shockingly prone to spoiling you with gifts and dinners and the like.

-He’s a bit controlling as a partner, not aggressively so but he has a tendency to take charge out of habit. He manages your clothes, your schedule, and your meals. If you tell him to step off, he will, he just has a very “I know best’ mentality and likes to take care of things he regards as precious.

-Absolutely no less of a hardass with you during work but there’s a certain playfulness about it, almost like he’s challenging you. He doesn’t mind if you give him a little shit for it back at home, almost encourages it.

-That riding crop is NOT just for show. Enjoy.

-He’s neither advertising nor hiding your relationship from his students, but any smart remarks about it are going to be immediately met with the full force of his cold sarcasm.

-Actually gets kind of a thrill out of workplace affection. Nothing too explicit, he’s not that unprofessional, but you may find him pulling you aside for a quick kiss in the supply closet or letting his hand glide along your waist in passing. Divus takes his job and his reputation very seriously, but he’s never once let it hold him back from enjoying himself.

Mozus Trein: -Being Trein’s teaching assistant is a little bit less varied in terms of tasks but is no less demanding. He assigns a LOT more homework than Crewel, and also expects you to help him keep up with research in order to keep his curriculum as updated as possible.

-He has very strong expectations of your work ethic and is very strict about deadlines. However, unlike Divus’ expectation that you reproduce his own work effortlessly, Trein actually expects a certain amount of back and forth. You’re meant to be reading these materials, not just copying them, and that includes himself.

-The two of you often enjoys some very intense discussion over a cup of tea, Lucius curled in your lap and purring like mad. Mozus’ eyes glitter a little more with each remark, and he looks so relaxed. A far cry from the stern pedagogue you see in the classroom.

-At his age Mozus has sort of lost the desire for any kind of grand romance. High drama and emotions will be all well and good for poetry, but ultimately he’s just looking for someone to take care of, and who can take care of him right back.

-His daughters are old enough to make up their own minds about you, and while he certainly wouldn’t stick around long with anyone who just despised his kids you’re not expected to take on more parental responsibility towards them than you’re comfortable doing. That said, he does get the slightest bit emotional when he sees you being affectionate with them. He’s a proud and loving father, despite his stern reputation, and it warms his heart to see you be a part of their lives like this.

-Being a good catparent to Lucius is NON-OPTIONAL though. You will adore that cat like he deserves or you will simply not be seeing Mozus.

-Mozus is a very attentive partner. He’s very tuned into your needs and fusses constantly over you taking care of yourself.

-He has a very strict sense of decorum. Chances are very good that once you started dating seriously he summarily dismissed you from the teaching assistant role and sought other help. He still appreciates your help with research, though, and enjoys hearing your feedback.

-His favorite evenings in the world are spent on the sofa, tea in your hands, talking quietly with the cat settled in between you. Perhaps its not exciting or glamorous, but it feels like home to him, and it softens him in ways no one could’ve ever expected.

Ashton Vargas:-You’re his assistant coach, which is pretty much as straightforward as it sounds. You help supervise his classes as well as the sports extracurriculars, as well as help with equipment maintenance.

-As far as bosses go, he’s alright. If you show up and do the job there’s not too much trouble.

-As a person though? Hoo boy.

-Someone had to hold the rivals to lovers stick

-Your relationship with Vargas likely started from an unsurprisingly physical place. Unfortunately for everyone the man is EXACTLY as hot as he thinks he is. He’s also a talented athlete which means that the competitive environment at work gets out of hand.

-Your students have a private betting pool on the two of you. Azul is running a small gambling ring on who starts it, who wins, and who’s the most pissed off by the end of the week.

-As well as how long till you hook up.

-As it turns out only a couple of months. In the locker room after all the students have gone home. The prick makes you clean up the room yourself too.

-Despite the tempestuous start....once you can actually get him to take the relationship seriously there are some unexpected perks to seeing Vargas.

-For as egotistical and demanding as he can often be. he’s just as much in your corner as he is in his own. He will loudly hype you up for anyone listening (and a few people who would rather not).

-He’s VERY needy affection wise, including on the job. Crowley has you in his office so many times for workplace conduct talks.

-Clingy in every sense of the word. Wants you to move in very quickly and is constantly blowing up your phone. Its kind of cute from a guy that burly and brash.

-He gets very excited over things, its one of his more endearing qualities.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #dire crowley #divus crewel #mozus trein #ashton vargas #headcanon

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dropofgoldensun · 2 years

Text

[10:27 pm]

stargazing is like spending time with jisung—the longer you do it, the more you see that you didn’t notice before.

“how many of them do you think are up there?” jisung asks, staring at the open sky.

you scoff. “at least twenty.”

“hey, i’m being serious.”

the playground is bare except for the two of you, sitting on the swings with heads craned towards the sky. you weren’t sure why, but you always found yourself coming back here, to the meeting place jisung had chosen in first grade. or rather, the spot by the swingset where he’d sent a cherry ball flying into the side of your head and begged for your forgiveness.

you like to tease him about it every once in a while.

the two of you used to have competitions to see who could swing the highest. and you sometimes wondered, if you went high enough, could you go up and around the top of the swings in a loop? other times, you would try to be in sync with one another. it never lasted very long, because jisung was heavier than you and reached the ground faster.

you slow yourself down to a mere sway, your sneakers gently brushing the platform below. “then i don’t know. ask google.”

“but i asked what you thought,” he says, sighing. you don’t have to see his face to know he’s pouting.

finally, you comply. “trillions, then. or more. once you get past trillions it doesn’t make much of a difference, does it? it’s just a lot.”

jisung hums, satisfied with your answer. the chains of his swing creak as he slows down to match your pace, and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you as you enjoy the night ambiance.

“look!” he fervently points at some arbitrary spot in the sky.

“what?” your neck cracks as you try to follow the direction of his finger.

“i just saw an asteroid,” he whispers, as if it’s some rare occurrence that he just witnessed, something even supernatural. that’s jisung for you—he notices the smallest details and makes you think about it for a moment. at times, you admit, it still catches you off guard, but that’s one of the things you like about him, how he never seems to lose his sense of wonder.

a smile makes its way across your face. “isn’t it called a meteorite?” you lower your gaze back to earth, back to him, just in time to see him scrunch his nose at you.

“whatever.”

it’s peaceful once more, save for the breeze that blows by your ears. you lean your head against the chains of your swing, pensive. oh, if only your best friend knew that the wonder he has for the world, you have for him.

“what are you thinking about?” jisung whispers. his eyes are swirling with curiosity, his head tilted in genuine interest. it would be so easy for you to lie and say something stupid, like aliens or ramen, but tonight you find yourself unable to ruin the mood. aliens and ramen are uncalled for, so you go with the next best worst option:

“you.”

it’s out, it’s out, and you’d rather move to another planet than deal with the embarrassment you’re experiencing right now. heat creeps up the back of your neck and you struggle to hold your gaze.

jisung’s lips part in surprise. “o-oh.”

“never mind,” you say hurriedly. this is awkward enough as it is. what time must it be? past ten, for sure. it’s late and getting colder, so maybe you should suggest heading home. yet you’re so caught up in your own thoughts that you almost don’t catch his response:

“me too.”

you look up, not sure you heard correctly. “what?”

“i—i just... i guess—i was thinking about you... too.” he fumbles with his words, never meeting your eyes. “because i, um.” he swallows. “i like you.”

“huh?” it’s ridiculous, your immediate reply. it’s stupid, laughable. but here you are, a little dumbstruck yet impressed at his confession.

“i—don’t make me repeat it, please.” he hangs his head in shame, an apology ready on the tip of his tongue, when you speak up.

“no—no, i heard you the first time. i... like you too.” your words trail off, but he hears them all the same. “um—what were you thinking about?” you ask, trying to break the tension.

“me? just—just that, you know... you came out here with me. to look at stars. which is boring. and you listened to me, too, and you’re just so... so...” he tries to find the right word to describe you, but all that keeps coming to his mind is perfect, and he definitely doesn’t want to say that one out loud. not after he just admitted to his long-time best friend about his long-time crush on her. “... understanding?” it comes out as a question, but it makes you laugh, and he can’t help but smile.

you lean back, swinging your legs above the ground. “nothing’s boring with you, jisung.” and you don’t feel bad about how cheesy it makes you sound, because that’s the truth.

“oh, um, thanks... and what were you thinking about?” he asks tentatively.

“i’m not telling you.”

“what!”

“well, it gives me an excuse to tell you another time.”

another time. those words play over and over in jisung’s head. there’s going to be another time. “tomorrow?” he says without thinking. “can we do the same thing tomorrow?” there’s hope in his voice. he’s still so curious about your thoughts, always wanting to learn answers to everything.

“yeah,” you say, smiling softly. “let’s do it.”

jisung is naturally curious about a lot of things. he’s eager to know more about the stars, and why they change, and about the world around him.

and you. you, who is beaming up at him, making warmth bloom from his chest to the tips of his fingers. what about you?

i guess i’ll find out.

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erythrum · 3 years

Text

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓

𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘖𝘯𝘦

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧,𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦,𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹,𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘴,𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1.9𝘬 +

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘺/𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

The boneyard was a melting pot, pogues, tourons, and kooks unalike all gathering for one of the last kegger's of summer. This mash together of kids from all over Kildare and the mainland always ended in chaos, it was just a matter of time before shit went down tonight.

Rafe had his arm thrown around my shoulders as we walked down the path to the boneyard. I could faintly see Topper and Kelce downing the cups of pogue provided beer. Didn’t matter whether or not the kooks or pogues could get along, as long as it was on the cut and alcohol was provided, the teens could get along for a limited amount of time.

“Hey y/n! What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving for college this week?” It was Sarah who yelled out to me, running up to her brother and I in her floral printed dress. Rafe’s arm dropped to his side as she came with Topper not far behind.

“Oh I just couldn’t miss my last kegger before leaving, Duke can wait on me one more day.” The two of us embraced in one of those hugs that has you shifting your weight from side to side. I guess she didn’t realize I wouldn’t leave for college for another month, but I was sure she was already too drunk for me to explain it to her that she was not thinking of the right month.

As Sarah was hanging onto me probably a little too tight, Topper was giving Rafe one of those looks that said everything but also nothing at the same time. Like prior knowledge had to be known to understand the context. I of course did not, those two always had some stupid shit planned and I can almost guarantee it had to do with messing up the pogues’ little party.

The sun hung low on the horizon after I had finished my third cup, the colors illuminating the sky so brilliantly it felt like a fantasy. I stripped off my top and headed for the water, the pinks and purples of the sky reflected in its crashing waters. It was so cold, the temperature sent shivers up my body and a familiar rush in my energy. Almost waist deep now, I submerged my body completely under the water. It was always how I remembered it, calm and refreshing.

“C’mon Rafe! Don’t be a little bitch and get in there, I see the way you look at her,” Topper spewed, pushing his friend to have a little courage.

“Man what the fuck are you even talking about?” Deny everything Rafe thought.

“Oh come on dude, you’ve been making please love me eyes at her since the sixth grade, and please fuck me eyes at her since the tenth, when are you gonna do something about it for once? You’ve got a month to make a move, or regret it your entire life,” Topper continued his monologue as Rafe tuned him out, too distracted by the girl, his girl, staring out into the Atlantic like it was calling to her.

His heart was pounding as he made a B-line for the water, a light jog, but not so fast someone would think he’s crazy, or just madly in love. He swiftly pulled his polo over and off his head before plunging into the chilly water. Topper clearly knew whatever he'd said had worked.

I heard him before I saw him, Rafe approached and submerged himself just as I had a few minutes before.

“If we get hypothermia I'm sending you my hospital bills.” He laughed, wading around in the shallow water.

“Oh shock! Rafe Cameron threatening his medical bill payments? I never could’ve guessed!” We enjoyed our few minutes of peace before talking again.

“But it’s basically impossible anyways, you get use to it after awhile, maybe it’ll calm your hot-headed ass down,” I giggled and prepared for what always came next. Rafe pickup me up around my waist, lifting me over his shoulder before attempting to sprint as fast as he could deeper into the water. His hands had been wrapped around the back of my knees for a few moments until he threw himself and I down into the deeper water, both of us completely submerged beneath the surface.

The sun was dipping below the horizon now, and the deep blue of the sky was beginning to envelop the boneyard. We had come up for air, and I began splashing him with the water around us, payback for his antics. Theres no way in hell I’d be able to throw him down into the water too, this was the best I could come up with. The two of us were laughing before Rafe grabbed my arms and twisted me around so my back was flesh against his front. I gave up on trying to fight him off. Instead I just rested against him in an attempt to catch my breath.

“Hey Rafe, can we talk about something?” Oh fuck she knows, he thought. This was gonna be it, it’s going to fuck up his entire plan.

“Yeah, uh sure, like here?” He questioned.

“Maybe not here, I think we’ve got as audience,” he knew she was referring to Topper and Kelce, they were watching from the beach.

"The truck then?" I nodded my head, not at all prepared for the favor I needed to ask of him.

The sand stuck to my feet as we headed back to where his truck was, the chilly air wrapping around my body. Rafe opened the backseat door and pulled out a towel for me, always prepared. He pulled the passenger side door and I slid into the seat, the heat of his car pumping through the interior. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure if his was too. We made it about halfway to tannyhill before speaking.

“Soooo,” he said.

“You’re going to think I’m absolutely crazy, Rafe," I laughed in an attempt to hide my nervousness.

"First of all, you're already crazy, and second of all, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what you're going to say," his hands were clenching the steering wheel harder now.

""Oh really? You already knew that I was going to ask you to take my virginity?" I don't know why, but I just blurted it out.

His car came to a screeching halt on the side of the road, lunging me forward as he stared in disbelief at the road infront of him.

"Im sorry, what did you just say?"

"That I want you to take my virginity? V-card? Cherry? Damn Rafe how else am I supposed to say it?"

"And," there was a pause in his voice like he didn't believe me, "your being serious, correct?"

“Correct.”

“And, come again? I need to hear that one more time.”

“Jesus fuck Rafe, I’m being dead serious, I want you to take my virginity, what about that is so hard to explain?” It came out as more of a yell than a scream, he took a long sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. He was thinking long and hard, I knew because he always had something to say, and now he wasn’t saying anything at all. It felt like hours had past before he spoke again.

“Why?”

It was my turn for a long sigh.

“Well, I guess I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and I want to do it, but whenever I think about it in my head the only person I can see doing it with is you. You’re the only person I trust enough with my own body, I mean shit,” I had to think for a long time before admitting what came next.

“Whenever someone, you know like Scarlet or whoever, asks about who I’m interested in or whatever it may be, not a single person ever comes to mind except you, it’s like all I see when I look at you is you, everything else is like blurred around you and whenever I think about who the love of my life will be, I always think of you, not some mystery guy that I haven’t met yet.” I didn’t plan for this to be a full confession on how I feel about him, but here I am spilling everything I’ve been holding in my heart for the last three years.

“And I know that sounds fucking stupid I know, I mean we’re still teenagers for crying out loud, but when I’m with you it always feels like I’m home.” I was nearly crying at this point, struggling to get the words out of my chest that had been waiting for so long. He was listening, deadly quiet, and I had no idea what he was thinking for once in my life.

“You know what? Just forget about it, can you take me home please?” I was definitely crying now, it felt like I’d ripped my own heart to shreds. Theres no way he could ever feel the same way about me, he protected me like I was his own blood, not like he was in love with me. My face was nestled into the sleeve of my hoodie as the tears came out. His hands had moved back to the steering wheel now, gripping onto it so tight I thought it might break. The muscles in his forearms almost looked like they were twitching, but he still had the car in park.

He wanted to just grab her and kiss her right now, the girl he'd been in love with since the sixth grade sitting in his passenger seat, her seat, confessing her feelings to him. Rafe knew it was alot for her to ask, but it meant even more to him everything that she had said after her original question. And there was no way in hell he was going to let her get away again.

Rafe reached his hand over to hold onto her tear stained cheek.

"y/n," The bother of them were breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you," it slipped from my mouth and he leaned in to kiss me. It felt like I had a wave of electricity coursing through my body. His hand grasping onto my face as he leaned over the center console. My hand reaching for his chest, his lips on mine as we intertwined with one another. It felt like everything in my life was complete, and the tension has been released. His fingers tangled in my hair.

It was over before I realized it, and Rafe was driving me home. My breathing hadn't normalized in any way, it was like I needed to throw up my heart to get the knot out. I couldn't stop thinking about the way his had felt on me, the way his lips felt on mine, the way it felt for once in my life like I was loved.

"i'll think about it," his voice cracked.

I leapt out of his car as fast as I could with tears streaming down my face. Did he feel the same? Did he not? My brain was spinning so fast I barely made it inside my bedroom door before collapsing. I wrapped myself up in the thick comforter, a heart full of ache and a body exhauster with sleep.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

#rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron #obx smut #obx #outerbanks smut #outerbanks

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omg-imatotalmess · 3 years

Text

Pet Names

Hey guys! I have had the headcanon that George would turn into a puddle when you call him something sweet, and my hypothetical question got lots of positive responses. So, here I am, yet again, offering a subby boy because that’s my specialty. Hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!), sub!George, dom!reader, pet name kink, praise kink, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, riding, swearing

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There was one thing about dating George Weasley that was an absolute fact: George loved pet names. Of course, you knew that to a degree. Since you started dating, it had become a rarity that he called you by your given name. You would have hated it from anyone else. Pet names typically weren't your thing, but you couldn't bring yourself to hate them when his voice dripped with sweetness. However, it never really occurred to you that he might want you to use them too. It wasn't until the two of you were lying on a couch in the Room of Requirement that you even thought about it.

Snuggled up to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he dozed, you began to reflect on the whole pet name situation. He always had something sweet on the tip of his tongue while you only ever called him George. Georgie, if you were feeling particularly affectionate. You wondered if it bothered him that you didn't have a cute name for him. It wasn't like he'd ever asked, but sometimes he had trouble asking for things that he thought were embarrassing without joking about it. He always gave you delightfully cheesy nicknames when people were around that could easily be brushed off as joking. So maybe the embarrassment thing was the case. He just didn't exactly know how to ask.

"I can hear the wheels turning in your head, sweetheart," George said, breaking you from your musings.

"Sorry, go back to sleep," you said, nuzzling his neck affectionately.

"Wasn't sleeping before anyway. Even if I was, what goes on in that brain of yours has to be more interesting," he said. Smiling, you rolled completely on top of him so you could see him better. "Well, hello there."

"You caught me. I was thinking again," you said.

"Were you thinking about me?"

"Why, yes, in fact, I was."

"How embarrassing. Do you have a crush on me or something, love?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"You're an idiot," you said fondly. "Really, though, I wanted to ask you something." The playfulness drained from his face immediately as he adopted a more serious expression. He almost looked a little worried. Smiling, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss between his furrowed brows in an attempt to make the wrinkle go away.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, I was just thinking about the nickname thing," you said. Your answer did nothing to relieve the expression.

"Don't you like them? I'll call you something else if you want." You shook your head.

"Actually, I was wondering if you wanted me to call you something else. Do you want cute names too?" you asked. George shifted under you, his expression morphing into one you'd become incredibly familiar with. A bright red flush bloomed over his cheeks as an almost concerningly wide grin pulled at his lips.

"Thought you'd never ask snookums!" he laughed nervously, "Here I thought you were about to let Ron and Hermione out cute us. Personally, I think you should go for something like 'the sweetest love of my life and future husband.' The whole phrase. Just to prove them that we're the cuter pair." As he rambled, you found yourself becoming more and more amused by his expert avoidance of your eyes.

"George?" Your voice was gentle but prodding, cutting his nervous speech short. Blinking, he offered another nervous laugh.

"Yes, darling, sweetness, light of my life?" he asked.

"Breathe," you said.

"Right. I'll live a lot longer if I do that," he said, pulling in a steadying breath. Smiling, you ran your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him further.

"Now, as much as I truly do like 'the sweetest love of my life and future husband,' it's kinda a mouthful," you said.

"That's what she said," George rattled off automatically.

"Jesus, I didn't mean to fluster you so bad. I'm sorry, sunshine," you said, testing the name.

And he whimpered. It was just a soft, breathy little sound. One you would have missed if you hadn't quite literally been laying on his chest. You weren't even sure if he was aware he'd done it, but, Christ, were you happy he did. That one little sound told you so much. Not to mention the way his fingers squeezed needily at your hips and that his eyes seemed to lose focus. Suddenly, you felt like you were taking up his entire field of vision. Nothing beyond you existed. Not to him. All that for just one simple word.

"You like, sunshine?" you asked.

"I dunno if it has the same ring as, uh, as whatever it was that I said, but it's alright," he said, squirming under your penetrating gaze.

"Just alright? You want something else?" you teased.

"If you-if you think you can c-come up with something better," he stuttered.

"Okay, baby boy," you purred.

If you thought sunshine had done it for him, baby boy blew that out of the water. A shiver tore through his body right down to his fingertips as his mouth dropped open into a quiet moan. Despite the low volume, the sound echoed in your ears. It dripped with pure need. As though he couldn't go another second without you touching him. The cherry flush that bloomed high in the apples of his cheeks swooped over the tips of his ears. He was beautiful. Enticing. And you were only human. Leaning forward, you traced your tongue up the shell of his ear, biting it lightly.

"That better?" you muttered against his ear. Pulling back, you watched as George opened and closed his mouth, fishing for anything to say in response. He wasn't having much luck, just spitting out collections of sounds that didn't quite resemble words.

"Come on, baby boy, use your words," you said, cupping his cheek and rolling your thumb over his bottom lip.

"Yes." His voice cracked on the word.

"Good boy," you said, smirking like a well-fed cat, "Now, how 'bout we get you out of those clothes. I wanna see all of my pretty baby."

"Please," he breathed. Carefully, you repositioned yourself, so you had full access to his clothing. You only managed a couple of buttons before his much larger hand curled around one of yours. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he said. Smiling, you pulled his hand to your mouth and returned the gesture.

"I love you too," you replied.

With your hand back, you made quick work of his shirt. You pushed it open and took in the lightly freckled expanse of his chest. His skin was a swirl of cinnamon-colored constellations. You trailed your fingers across them, admiring the trail of goosebumps the left behind. George was lovely. Devastatingly so. Bringing your head down, you followed the same path your fingers had taken, stopping briefly to lap at his nipples. He whined softly at the attention, tangling his hands in your hair.

"You're so beautiful," you said.

You kissed up his chest to his lips, and he tilted his head to meet you. His lips pressed hungrily to your own. The faint taste of honey teased your senses as you dipped your tongue into his mouth. You loved that he always managed to taste sweet. Lightly, you ran your tongue over his own, savoring that elusive sweetness for as long as you could. Slipping your hand down to rub him through his pants, you were surprised to find him fully hard. Even though you'd barely touched him, he was straining against his zipper.

"(Y/N)," he whimpered against your mouth.

"I bet that's uncomfortable. You want me to take care of that, baby boy?" you asked, popping the button.

"Please. Please take care of it," he begged, bucking his hips into your hand. Without responding, you pushed his pants down to his thighs while trailing burning kisses down his torso. You pressed a kiss to each of his hip bones before wrapping your hand around his cock. Giving it a few long, slow strokes that had him bucking into your hand, you looked up at him.

"Tell me what you want," you said.

"Your mouth. Please, (Y/N)," he said quickly.

"Anything for my sweet baby boy," you said.

Slowly, you dragged your tongue from the base to the tip, paying special attention to the ridge of the head. A low moan sounded above you. You took a moment to appreciate the sound before sinking his cock into your mouth. His hips bucked, and you gagged slightly. Breathing softly through your nose, you gripped his hips tightly to keep him from doing it again. You bobbed your head slowly, running your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock.

"C'mon, don't tease," George begged, straining against your restrictive grip.

You didn't say anything but picked up the pace slightly. Removing on hand from its place on his hip, you fondled his balls and teased lightly at his perineum. His hips flexed wildly against your hand. It only took swallowing around him once before he was calling out warnings and groaning loudly into the open air. You pulled off before he could cum, ignoring the disappointed whine.

"Wanna come. Please, (Y/N), I wanna come so bad," he cried, bucking into the air looking for friction.

"I know, baby boy," you said, shimmying out of your pants. "I wanna be ridding you when you do, but you gotta prep me first. Can you do that for me? Can you finger me until I'm nice and open for you, baby boy?"

"Uh-huh," he said, fumbling for the lube that appeared on the table. Turning, you presented yourself to him, so he had better access. Gentle as always, he sunk a long finger into you.

"That's my good boy," you sighed. As he fingered you open, he pressed open-mouthed kisses to the backs of your thighs. You wrapped your hand around his cock again, stroking it in time with the thrusts of his fingers. Then he curled them a bit.

"There! That's it," you mewled, rocking back against him.

"More!" He obediently added another finger.

"Am I making you feel good?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Whether it was from moaning or just from the idea that he was bringing you pleasure, you couldn't tell.

"So good," you said. You felt his cock twitch in your hand, and he shivered.

"Close," he whimpered.

"Let me sit on your pretty cock, baby boy," you purred. Almost reluctantly, he slipped his fingers from you, and you positioned yourself over him. Neither of you was interested in waiting long. Once he was fully seated inside you, you could already feel him shivering with the effort not to cum.

"Move?" It came out as a question. Both asking your permission and begging you to ride him until he was shaking with overstimulation.

Picking up your hips, you dropped them back slowly. You savored the slight burn of the stretch. Hands quickly found your hips. And then you were moving. You weren't sure if he'd thrust up into you or if you'd started this pace on your own. You didn't care. It didn't matter when he was hitting that spot inside you just right.

"So good, baby boy! Right there!" you cried.

"So tight. So good. Wanna cum! Please can I cum?" he begged, digging his fingers into your hips in a way that would definitely bruise.

Pulling his chin up with two fingers, you kissed him like your life depended on it. Tongues tangled sloppily, your teeth clicked together, and the angle was a little off considering the constant motion. Still, you couldn't bring yourself to care with him, whining obscenities into your mouth. Begging to cum so prettily. If you were a little meaner or not so desperate yourself, you'd draw it out a little longer. Maybe next time. Separating with a wet pop, you smoothed your thumb across his spit-slick, swollen lips.

"Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me?" you asked. He nodded, hooded eyes staring at you pleadingly.

"Close, close, please," he whined, dropping his head forward to your chest.

"Cum, baby boy." With a long, low moan, he was gone. He pounded sloppily into you with uncontrolled thrusts, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you impossibly closer. Between that and the sight of his utterly wrecked expression, you went tumbling over the edge after him. Your own shout of pleasure shook the room. Your thighs trembled with the force of it. For a second, you swore, you stopped breathing.

"Holy fuck," you panted as you came down from your high.

"Felt pretty holy to me," George said, leaning heavily against the arm of the couch.

"When I find my brain, I'll say something witty," you said. You let him slip out of you, opting to ignore the mess running down your thighs in favor of laying against his chest again.

"Anytime you wanna do that again, I'd happily oblige, love," he said.

"You just fucked my brain across the room while I called you baby boy, and you're already thinking about round two?" you snorted.

"Should I not be?" Well, round two did sound pretty good.

"Give me a hot minute, and I'll get right on that, sunshine." You didn't miss the love in his dark eyes as he gazed down at you with a crooked grin. Or the way his cock twitched in interest.

#its 3:30 am #but here it is #george weasley x reader #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #george weasley smut #george x reader #george x reader smut #harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #dom!reader #sub!george #smut #harry potter #hp

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

Text

Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha.

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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki

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Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos.

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok?

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished.

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways.

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing?

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out.

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”.

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

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God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

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