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#shoeprint
conformi · 2 years
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“Hibakusha” (people affected by the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki), clothing pattern burnt on to the back and arm of the victim VS Issey Miyake, SS 1995, photo by Platon
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absentmoon · 28 days
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shoeprints :)
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m0e-ru · 1 year
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investigation
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forensicfield · 4 months
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Forensic Podiatry: A Comprehensive Overview
Forensic podiatry is a subfield of forensic science that examines foot-related evidence in the context of a criminal investigation using specialized podiatric knowledge, such as foot and lower-limb anatomy... #forensicpodiatry #crimesceneinvestigation
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jethroq · 4 months
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that, or Diane Feinstein was the Zodiac
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whatyoutaughtwasfear · 6 months
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just played nearly 6 hours of shadows of doubt instead of studying. i have. lost part of myself
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bluespiritfire · 2 years
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Me, looking at the Lucifer card for finishing all beginner missions: haha, wow I can’t wait for another Wrath SSR... Hang on... is he...?? Is this mans in a full bathtub while he’s wearing suitpants?! Where did the petals come from?
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sIR. Are you Alright? Do you need to be checked for a concussion??
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jrueships · 2 years
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??????? What's jalens kids doin in your house ???
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ifearzombies · 1 year
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Things you do that annoy the brothers.
Lucifer:
- You are as hard to wake up as Belphie sometimes. Especially on days where you don’t have to go to RAD - You very much complain about going to school. The classes are more interesting than human ones for sure but still. School is school. Lucifer understands a bit more when you tell him how human schools work, but you grumble just as much as the brothers and, in his opinion, doesn’t make Diavolo look good. - It’s hard to get you alone sometimes because his family and friends keep pulling you for themselves. He has, on more than one occasion, cleared your schedule and told you where and when to be so he can spend time with you.
Mammon:
- You forget to call him ‘Your first’. A lot. He will never ADMIT this bugs him, but it’s clear as whatever counts as ‘day’ in the Devildom. You are the person who makes him feel special and he feels less special when you don’t call him your first whenever the pacts get mentioned. - You sometimes call the human world your ‘Home’. He knows it’s technically true but he feels that here is your home; the House of Lamentation. - You don’t invite him to your room. You’ve told him that you don’t do it because he asks to come in all the time anyways; to the point that you’ve walked into your room to find him already in there with something for you to do. But still. He wants an invitation. Leviathan:
- You have Christopher Peugeot's autograph and you won’t give it to him. You’ve said you can get one for him but he refuses. He wants to meet the author himself and get it. And you don’t understand why he’s so jealous that he hasn’t met his favorite author yet. - You never try sleeping in the bathtub with him. You cuddle in everyone else’s bed, but you know that it’s going to be painful to try and you’ve explained. But he still wishes you’d give it a shot. - He can hear you and Mammon going at it and he hates it. He confronted Mammon about it and had earplugs thrown in his face for it.
Satan:
- You’ve stepped on his books when trying to get to him in his room. You never mean to, but still some of his favorites have your shoeprints on them. - You remind him when Father’s Day is coming up so he can do something for Lucifer. - He can’t roll his Rs and you can and so you sometimes ‘purr’ at him and he gets jealous he can’t do it.
Asmodeus:
-You forget to compliment his beauty sometimes. He is beautiful and how dare you forget it! - You say no to sharing a shirt or makeup or piece of jewelry. While you know he will return it, how could you not share with his beautiful self. - You sometimes don’t let him dress you.
Beelzebub:
- You don’t always share what snacks you have. It doesn’t annoy him, but he does pout about it. - You don’t let him pick you up if you’re trying to reach something high up. It’s dangerous and you’re being dumb about it in his opinion.
Belphagor:
- You are a nag when he asks you to wake him up. Every five minutes you’re shaking and trying to wake him. - You sometimes don’t feel like doing the trek to the attic for sandwich cuddles
All the brothers:
- YOU FINALLY PUT A LOCK ON YOUR BEDROOM DOOR!
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octobergraves · 9 months
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Oh wait really? I never noticed any footprints that's so cool! Please provide screenshots. (And if they're in areas they never went in the base game, I guess that goes along with the idea that they went back after the events of the game? Which would make sense, because in the Princess Quest ending Gregory wouldn't know about or have seen Burntrap/The Blob)
it took me a minute to find where they were, but i finally found them!
after you finish with Monty Golf Walkway and are dropped off in the back rooms by the ride, taking the stairs up to Chica's Bakery puts you at a doorway w/ two doors: one door is still attached, but the other one is on the ground with a footprint indented in it (along with...an indent that i can't figure out what it is?? it's the second picture). then right next to that there's a small dust pile with kid shoeprints. although all the Glamrocks except for Chica have the same type of feet (which.....i had to google to double check...and did you know there are just so many photos of these robots feet on the internet. just so many), I think the presence of kid shoeprints implies it's Freddy w/ Gregory, which would mean he has his body.
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imo i think that bits and pieces of the Princess Quest and Burntrap endings are canon, but like. idk im not good at theorizing lmao
EDIT: just noticed that some of the shoeprints are larger than the others, so i also think Vanessa is with them!
EDIT 2: as people have pointed out, the second indent is Freddy's fist! looks like he punched down the door and then stepped on it to walk through!
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verosvault · 4 months
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Fantasy High Junior Year Trailer Screenshots of the PCs! 😋 (Spoilers ahead for Fantasy High S1&2)
If any of y'all see any clues in any of these. Drop it in the comments please because I'm curious! 😂
I love how Riz's has like Kalina stuff on it and also 3 sticky notes that say "night yorb?" just...AROUND! 😂🤣💀
Also...since when did Kristen gain THAT much MUSCLE?! 😭😭✋✋
I LOVE the "Keep Going" and the "Are you my dad? Yes No?" on Gorgug's! 😂😆
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Adaine O̶'̶S̶h̶a̶u̶g̶h̶n̶e̶s̶s̶y̶ Abernant
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Adaine's has a doodle of Jawbone on the top left.
Her new Arcane Focus! The sword she took from her father!
Boggy!
There a unique doodle of something on the top right of Adaine's? It looks like a cat of some sort to me....but Idk. 🥴🥲 [EDIT: That little cat doodle on the top right is the same cat doodle that is on Jawbone's shirt!!]
[EDIT!: "ESF" flag on Boggy stands for "Emotional Support Frog"!!!]
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Fabian Aramais Seacaster
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Fabian has a doodle of his dad, Bill Seacaster on his.
His magical sheet!
A "Hoot Growl" Owlbears Poster!
Toxic Masculinity is DEAD! 😂✋
Also, the sword of the Seacaster's as well there it looks like!
Fabian also has a tiny little message on his that reads: "I'm here to be Great"! 😆
There's also some kind of ticket stub on the bottom left corner!
As well as what looks to be a Start line with shoeprints for what I'm assuming is a track for either running...(or dancing 👀)?
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Kristen Applebees
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Kristen's has Cassandra on the top right! 😆
A scratched off "yes?" in regards to the deity she had created before.
Along with a corn on the cob
and her iconic staff of doubt!
She's also BUFF!
So... That's obviously VERY NEW!!! 😂
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Riz Gukgak
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Riz's has Kalina around his.
It has what I think is the picture from Sophomore Year of both Pok and Kalina next to each other. The mystery photo of that season.
It has Coach Daybreak.
"Bardy Boys" iconic reference.
"Night Yorb?" written 3 different times...Idk why it's referenced 3 different times here 💀...
The bottom right of Riz's is what seems to be a drawing of Biz Glitterdew. Underneath the Biz drawing, it reads: "HACKER".
There's a drawing of a Corn Cutie.
There seems to be random numbers? I see "10", "5", "12", "03". There's a "3:" which idk if it's supposed to go along with the other random numbers or if it's supposed to be a text face. I also see letters here too, like I see "S", "H", "A" however the "A" seems to be the lettering for "Aguefort".
There's a drawing of an octopus with a pirate hat, which I'm assuming is a drawing of James Whitclaw maybe?
I don't know if the small drawing of the woman ABOVE Coach Daybreak is supposed to resemble Lady Doreen? The lunch lady.
There's a small writing on a sticky that says "Jorjuu?" The J at the end looks like a "u" to me. Maybe I'm blind. Either way, I assume it's referring to Telemaine's wrong pronunciation of Gorgug "Jorjuj" :p
Right next to Riz's center photo of himself seems to be something that says "(un)licensed" the words under it looks like scribbles, but I can only assume it's "private investigator".
Idk who that girl is on the right in the small black and white photo. I have no clue who that's supposed to be. 🥴🥴🥴 Is it supposed to be a drawing of Penny Luckstone maybe??? [EDIT! The small black and white photo is a picture of Penelope Everpetal!!!]
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Fig Faeth
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Fig's has a concert ticket stub! Maybe that's the event going on at the Thistlespring Tree? Maybe? Maybe Gorgug wanted to perform to his parents 😂 and then...things went wrong? 😂💀 idk! I'm purely guessing!
Fig's has a tiny little message that says "Burn Towns Get Money"! 😂 That one lyric in one of their band songs! 😂✋ Another tiny little message that says "burn it up"!
It has Fig's iconic guitar with a small golden star next to it!
It has a tiny cute photo of Gilear!
It has her Dwarven Skateboard!
It has what I can only imagine to be a little doodle of what I assume to be Gorthalax???
Then it has Fig's little Dwarven skateboard.
It has what seems to be a spiky collar of some sort? Idk what that could be referring to other than Hilda Hilda's dog that she has chained outside of the police house...but that's quite a stretch! So...I honestly just don't really know. 💀✋ [EDIT! The spiky collar might just be referring to Fig's punk aesthetic!!!]
Fig's also has that like..."A" Circle of Anarchism symbol on hers as well! So...yeah! That looks dope and amazing!
[EDIT!: The beginning of the words "HILDA HILDA" on the right side under the drawing of the skateboard!! 😂😂]
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Gorgug Thistlespring
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Gorgug's has small messages of "Keep Going" on his!
It has a small message that says "METAL" in all caps! Probably since he loves Metal music! Just like Zelda does! 😂🤣 :3
It has a letter that says "Are You My Dad? Yes No" 😂😂 Even though he's found his dad already so it's kinda funny I guess? 😂💀 But it's SO HIM too so...ya know! 😂🤷‍♀️
There's what looks to be a small doodle of a rose in the top right. Probably for his one true love! Zelda! 🥺 :3 [EDIT: THE SMALL DOODLE OF THE ROSE IS THE TIN FLOWER FROM EPISODE 1!!!]
Then there seems to be a doodle of like ...I originally thought it looked like a moon? But it might be a doodle of a satellite around earth??? I mean... it's right next to the rose...so... I'm assuming that that's what it is? Idk 🥲😅
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If y'all caught something I missed! Please holler in the comments! 🙏 I NEED THEORIES!!! RKAKFKW 😭✋
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atinylittlepain · 9 months
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June - Part Seven
Joel Miller x f!oc
series masterlist
warnings | 18+ dark themes surrounding suicidal ideation and attempt, smut, angst, but also a whole lot of love to be had
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All houses dream in blueprints
Our house dreams so hard
Outside you can see my shoeprints
I've been dreaming in your yard
"Pretty Eyes" by Silver Jews
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Strange. Something from the past that shouldn’t fit into the present. Holidays, what use does this world have for holidays? But Tommy asked and Maria insisted and Ellie agreed and June did too. So he’s here in his brother’s house and she’s tucked under his arm and everyone’s playing pretend for the night. 
His mind swirls with it. What could have been in some other fold of time. A house with a yard and a swingset and maybe a dog. A house with a minivan parked out front and a family inside. And hers is there and his is there too. And theirs, there’s theirs. Tiny palms pressed to pants legs and eyes that are hers and ears that are his. Theirs, theirs, theirs. Pearls around her neck and a tie around his and hands clasped around a table. And it’s such a sweet, stupid vision he has to blink it away before it starts to smart.
Pie. It’s the end of the world and there’s pie. And timid conversation. Everyone being careful of her, for her, even though she’s bright, polite, taking all of it in stride. 
It’s only been a–
Since she–
But she’s doing so–
And she’s here, with him. In a dark green dress that she traded for. He’s never seen her in a dress before.
“Thank you for inviting me.” She nods to Tommy and Maria both. They smile.
“Of course, June. We wanted everyone here for Thanksgiving.” Kind and warm, Tommy ever the diplomat. To be wrapped into whatever everyone means seems to startle her, a tight squeeze to his hand under the table. She hasn’t touched her perfect piece of pie. He hasn’t touched his either. 
It’s hard to look away. That clear amalgamation of Tommy and Maria, gummy smiles and contented babbling. Tiny, tiny, tiny. It makes his chest ache. And judging by the way she keeps sneaking glances, something similar is settling in her as well.
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s good.”
“I heard what happened.”
“Don’t.” 
“It ain’t right, Joel.” 
“Don’t, Tommy.” 
“I wasn’t going to. I’m just saying.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You look good together. Well.” He doesn’t get a chance to ask him what that means because the front door is opening and everyone else is spilling out onto the porch to say goodnight, quick cordial thank yous and goodbyes. 
“This is weird.”
“Hmm.” Tupperware. Where the hell did they get tupperware from? It sits on the kitchen counter between them. Two perfect pieces of pie in plastic. Dark, dark, dark outside. Close and quiet. She wordlessly pulls a fork out of a drawer, offers it to him, the first bite. He holds the container between them, leaning against the counter, curled over two perfect pieces of pie in plastic. Back and forth, back and forth, mottled silver passed between their hands. Sharing sweetness they didn’t want to show to anyone else.
It’s good. Of course it’s good. Butter and flour and sweet, sweet, sweet. A low hum in both their throats as they finish off two perfect pieces of pie in plastic, hunched over each other in the hazy light of the kitchen. 
“Good?”
“Hmm.”
“You looked nice tonight.” Thumb and forefinger slipped along the sleeve of her dress. 
“Thank you.” Palm smoothing under the collar of his shirt.
“Tired?” Her eyes drop, an answer in itself.
“Their boy is so small.”
“He is.”
“Sweet.” 
“Let’s go to bed, June.”
He whispers it into her hair, her face burrowed into the warmth of his neck, hands tucked up under his shirt. A name he refuses to say to most. A name that stings. And she does the same, neck arching to put her mouth to his good ear. Two names that they tuck away, hold onto for each other.
“Well?”
“Clean bill.” Relief unfurls in his chest. He tucks her into it, wants her to feel it too. Quick, before stepping out of the clinic. 
They’ve been making sure that her heart doesn’t–
“There’s a hole in your jacket.” 
“What?” Her fingers wriggle against his side, the split seam.
“I can fix it for you.”
She’s good with her hands. Deft, meticulous, in all sorts of ways. He likes to watch her work. Peeling his jacket from him the instant they get home. So, so focused with a slip of thread and a needle. Knees brushing, turned toward each other on the couch. There’s a caution to the way they’re moving around each other. Careful, quiet, not wanting to harm or hurry. Not wanting to spook, not after–
“How are you?” Hands stutter stop, though her eyes stay stilled on the task. Stupid question, stupid, stupid, stupid.
“What do you mean?” 
“Forget it, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Well how should I be?” Blink and miss it, the twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Relief to get her like this. Just kidding like this.
“Fine is good.”
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.” 
“Just fine?” Split, stretch, bright, bright, bright. A smile that crinkles up and up, warmth crackling in his chest. 
“How’s that look?” A clean stitch, lines of thread tight and neat along the seam. 
“Perfect, June. Thank you for fixing it.” 
“Of course, Joel.”
Silvery, just like his. Puckered and arced, just like his. How much time has changed it. How he’s seen all of it. 
“Does yours hurt from the cold?”
“Yeah, does yours?”
“Yeah.” 
“Hmm.” Thumbs held steady over each other’s. Soft sweeps along temples. This thing that joins them, shared and separate at the same time. 
“Can I ask you something?” “Of course, June.”
“What did you think that night? When you saw me.”
“I’m not sure I was thinking anything.”
“I was so angry at you.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” 
It’s snowing, the soft shadows of it falling over the bed, her face. He wakes up most mornings soaked in sweat from all the blankets she sleeps with now that winter is snapping at fall’s heels. He doesn’t really mind. 
For once, she’s home before he is. In the kitchen, moving light. 
“What’s this?” 
“I wanted to.” Fingers flickering fast and free, ribboning peels that wink red on the counter. She works easy, certain, the push and pull of her knuckles in dough. Buttery strips of it braided over the top, painfully purposeless, pretty. Proof, though what she’s proving he isn’t sure. And the whole kitchen washes away in the warmth of it, bubbling up golden and brown. 
“For tonight. When Ellie and Dina come.” “Okay.” 
“What do you think?”
“It looks good, June. You didn’t have to.”
“I know it’s dumb.”
“It’s not dumb.”
“I just wanted to make something.” Her palm hiding her mouth, a murmured afterthought.
“Something good.”
A bit stiff when they all sit down for dinner. Ellie with hers on one side and Joel with his on the other. But she surprises him with smooth, steadying conversation. He knows she and Ellie have been on patrol together a handful of times, and their comfort with each other is clear. The night relaxes around them. His arm slung easy over the back of her chair, something big and bright settling in his chest watching Dina watching Ellie. She’s okay. This is good, good, good. 
“Holy fuck this is good.” “Ellie.”
“Sorry, it is.” He has to hide his smile, because in the corner of his eye he can see her beaming next to him at the kid’s words. Perfect pieces on plates. Soft smiles around syrupy sweetness. She thumbs away a shard of crust from his lip, so easy in how she reaches for him. And it is good, better, he thinks. 
They send them out into the night, a tupperware of leftovers between them. He goes dizzy with how normal it all feels. Hip to hip in the kitchen, she washes, he dries. Another life, another world. This all the time.
“Dina seems nice.”
“She does.”
“Are you happy for Ellie?” “I think so.”
“Hmm.” That little sound of hers makes him smile with how familiar it’s become. But then his eyes catch on her forearm, bare beneath the rucked-up sleeve of her sweater. That jagged line of flesh. Whatever normal is, they will never touch it. He knows that. He must. His want for her is enough for him to swallow this truth, only a little bitter surrounded by all this sweetness. 
“Good day?” A better question than how are you, he’s learned. The curve of her smile caught quick in the dim light of the kitchen.
“Yeah, it was. You?”
“Really good.” Her eyebrow crooks, a hooked turn toward him.
“What made it really good?” 
“This. You.” They’re both not very good at it. He feels like a fool offering it and she shies away from receiving it. A slow thaw for each of them. But he keeps trying, and so does she.
“I like hearing that.”
“It’s true.” A smile, a shake of her head. But no recoil, her hip still snug against his as they finish the dishes. He’ll take it. All of it. 
In another world, another life, her hands are soft and smooth and she wears blue nail polish because it’s her favorite color. And her painted fingernails work the knot of his tie out, quiet smiles because everyone else is sleeping. And he unclasps the pearls from around her neck, lays them on their nightstand next to a pamphlet about summer camp because theirs are old enough to go this year. And he lays her out on their bed with hands that have never touched blood that didn’t come from a scraped knee. And it’s simple, so, so simple. Fingers tangled, the light glint of their rings.
In this world, her hands are as worn and calloused as his, the rough drag making him shiver. No rings. And there is no tie, only the buttons of his flannel that she restitched last week to keep them from falling off. And there are no pearls, only the high neck of her sweater that he noses down to press his mouth to the hollow of her throat. And these are bodies that have known violence, and they move like it, always careful, always questioning, always stifling back snarls. And there is no one else. Only them. So they do not have to be quiet and they do not have to close doors and he can coax her up onto the counter and drop to his knees right there in the kitchen. 
“Joel.” But that would be the same. The sound of his name breaking in her chest. The taste of her. The splay of his palms over the jumping muscles of her thighs. The pull of her hand in his hair, that plea to come closer when it all turns too much. The stutter of his heart when his hips press against hers. That warmth, her warmth, her breath against his mouth. Everything, everything, everything.
“June.” And that would be the same too. The sound of her name thrumming up his throat. A plea, a prayer, that perfect piece of his unraveling. She would be his undoing in any world and he knows it.
“I can’t believe we just did that.” Breathless, on a laugh. Her words thrumming where his forehead is pressed to her chest. Shrapnel around them, dishes shattered on the ground. Her sweater hanging off the curve of the sink. The mess they made, proof perfect.
He’d like to say something sweet, or clever even. But looking at her, the bright of her grin matching his, all he can do is laugh a little harder as she shakes her head at him. 
They leave the mess. They’ll get it in the morning. Right now, it’s snowing outside, close and still. And they seek each other out in the quiet. He’s used to it by now. The slip of socked feet against his ankles, her silent search for warmth. Something he can give her, easy, simple, without question. 
“June?”
“Hmm.”
“I’m glad that I was out there that night.” A long sigh, the fall of her ribs under his palm.
“I am too.”
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taglist: @thetriumphantpanda @suzmagine @casa-boiardi @hollywoodcaligirl @kelp-dreaming @beskarandblasters @swiftispunk @tieronecrush @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @darkroastjoel @sarahhxx03 @ambassadortotrilliusprime @northernbluess
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thepenultimateword · 1 year
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...Arranged Marriage for (Civilian Identities of) Villain and (heroic) Sidekick?
Disclaimer: I definitely know that arranged marriages are often happy and healthy and completely normal for many people. When Sidekick refers to their arranged marriage with Villain as not a "regular" marriage, it has to do with their own outlook of their situation, and not my personal views on the subject.
Sidekick noticed the bruise right away. A perfect shoeprint on their new spouse's cheek, suspiciously alike to the one Hero struck under Villain's left eye earlier that night.
Everything Sidekick had suspected and ignored over the last month came crashing down like a tidal wave, pressing down heavily on their shoulders, crushing the breath right out of them.
"What happened?" they managed through constricting lungs.
"Nothing." Spouse tugged their chin-length hair in front of their face as they slid off their shoes and workbag. "Is there dinner?"
"You have a shoe print on your face," Sidekick said, unsure why they were pressing for an answer they really didn't want. "That's not nothing!"
Spouse shot them a mildly annoyed glance before swiping past them and poking around the contents of their fridge themself. "If you want the truth, I'm being bullied at work."
Bullcrap.
But what was Sidekick supposed to say? Prove it? I know you're lying? I know who are you?
Anything they said could immediately be turned against them, and the last thing they needed in this already tense arrangement was for Spouse--Villain--to uncover their secret identity.
"Are you ok?" they said instead, surprised that it slipped out so easily. Even with a small semblance of worry. It was worry for themself of course, for a future where they shared living quarters with a villain who recognized them as an enemy. Needing to watch their back every second of the day, keeping one eye open while they slept.
It shocked them when Villain's face softened.
"Hurts a little." They closed the fridge door, hunger forgotten, and ambled a little closer.
Sidekick fumbled internally for the correct response. What would they do if this was a regular marriage? One where they hadn't each weighed the benefits to their families against their personal feelings. One where Spouse wasn't Villain, and Sidekick didn't know.
Sidekick ghosted the edges of the bruise with the back of one knuckle. "It's a nasty one. Do you need me to beat anyone up?"
Villain's eyes sparked amusement. "I'd like that. But I wouldn't like you getting into trouble for me."
"Since when do you care about that?" Sidekick said, a little harsher than intended.
Villain cocked their head.
Shut up, Sidekick!
"Is this about me exposing your late-night comings and goings to your parents during our engagement?"
Actually, in the wake of other problems, Sidekick had forgotten all about that incident, for as infuriating and stifling as it had been at the time. They had been unable to help Hero on their patrols for over a month. But Villain had given them an out, so they shouldn't squander it.
"I wasn't allowed outside past 10 until the day we were married. What did it even benefit you?"
Villain stepped a fraction closer. "At the time I was upset with our situation. My family's money for your's reputation seemed an unbalanced, unworthy trade for my life. I took it out on you. And that was wrong." Their fingers crept along Sidekick's wrists, holding them light and gentle in front of them. "Forgive me?"
Sidekick slid out of their grip and took a cautionary step out of the range of soft, green-eyed charm.
"You haven't given me many opportunities for forgiveness. We barely even see each other."
"Not all my fault is it?"
Sidekick's stomach lurched. They thought they'd been sneaky about their absences from home; if they weren't waiting for times when Villain was out of the house or asleep, they at least always had a genuine errand to complete with it to excuse them.
"I have... Zumba," Sidekick said and immediately cringed. Zumba? All the time? Even at midnight?
"Whatever it is you have...or I have, I think we should make some changes."
Sidekick raised a brow. "Changes?"
"Dinner, every night, and at least one date a week."
Sidekick stared, mouth agape. They hadn’t been married long, but this was the first indication they’d given Sidekick of wanting to try for any sort of amicableness.
“Why?” They knew it sounded strange, it was stranger continuing as they were, but they couldn’t shake the suspicion growing in their gut.
“Because like it or not, we are married. And I want to love my spouse. And…from what I know of you…that doesn’t seem an impossible feat.”
Sidekick had to resist the urge to counter. This was the best thing. Hiding their identity in a comfortable relationship was probably easier than in a tense one. That was how Sidekick discovered Villain after all, the constant questioning, distrust, and watching giving way to another all to familiar persona.
“That seems…reasonable,” they said.
Villain smiled. “Why don’t we pick a day for date nights? A day where we don’t make other plans.” They’re smile grew. “I’ll try to schedule around your Zumba.”
They definitely didn’t believe that lie.
Wait. This was an opportunity. If Villain was out with them, they weren’t causing arm to the city. Sidekick was still helping Hero, just…less conventionally.
“Fridays?”
Villain pondered that moment, probably thinking about how much they enjoyed ruining Fridays for everyone else with their chaotic schemes.
“Works for me.”
Sidekick nodded brusquely. “I'll get the first aid kit."
“You’re patching me up?” Villain said, sounding amused and thrilled for some reason.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“No reason. Thank you.”
The genuineness in their voice caught Sidekick off guard. They had to shake themself back into motion. “You’re welcome. Um…there’s some left over spaghetti in a bag on the bottom shelf if you want to warm it up. If you’re still hungry that is.”
With that, Sidekick retreated, trying hard not to think about how they were sharing food with a criminal, and how they didn’t completely mind it.
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mayfieldss · 1 year
Text
Fake - Isaac Lahey | Part nine
series masterlist
Warnings: language
AN: I'm crying this is the final part, thanks to everyone for sticking with the story, ily all. (New Isaac series coming soon idk...)
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Y/N,
I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm an idiot for not seeing it sooner, how you felt about me. And how I feel about you. I don't know how you can love me, I'm annoying. I fidget with everything, and I have a habit of saying too much or in this case, not enough.
I should have told you how I felt sooner, but deep down, I don't think I believed that I deserved to love you. But I do, love you I mean. I'm sorry, that I fucked this up, ruined us. But I'm not sorry that I loved you till I couldn't breathe.
I hate that I can't sit still for more than a minute, it bothers me that I'm so mean sometimes, and I hate that I can't see what's right in front of me. I hate all of my habits, Y/N, but I happen to love you.
I'm sorry,
Isaac.
_
Isaac didn't know what he was doing. The sky was grey outside as if reflecting his mood to the rest of the world, and his feet carried him back and forth across the carpet of his room. He refused to read back what he wrote on the paper. If he did, it would ruin the compulsiveness of it all. He would hate every word. It would end in piles of paper on the floor, all in little crushed balls, the words they held never good enough. Isaac's first attempt would be the one he would give you. He felt it would be the greatest truth. After all, it was all his wild and rapid thoughts. Editing would ruin the truth in it.
There was a question that plagued Isaac's mind, however. would he hurt you more in doing this? If he gave you the letter, would you truly cast him out of your life forever? Was he clingy, annoying, and needy? He thought about tearing the paper up, ripping it into a million pieces, and never showing you. Never telling you everything on his mind. And then he came to his senses. Not communicating with you had caused this mess in the first place, and not telling you how he felt sooner had torn the both of you apart. Isaac put the letter in an envelope that took forever to find and sealed it inside. He didn't know exactly how he would get the letter to you. He didn't know if he would read it aloud or let you scan the words without him there. He just knew you had to have it.
In the end, after much deliberation, Isaac came to a decision. He had a lacrosse game tonight, a home game that Isaac doubted you would attend. He'd pushed you too far this time, and somehow, he knew you wouldn't be in the stands waiting. It wasn't like the last time you'd planned not to come and then showed up anyway. You weren't coming to this game, no matter how many prayers Isaac sent to the sky above. So, Isaac decided the only chance he had was to slip the letter into your locker. That way, he gave you the choice. You could read it and discover the depth of Isaac's affections, or you could dispose of it and continue on your quest to never speak to Isaac again. Isaac hoped you would give him the chance. If you did, maybe you would find it in yourself to forgive him. Maybe, even love him again.
-
The letter fell at your feet as people milled around you, heading toward the exits of the school. The day was over, and the rush of people racing to get home, perhaps to prepare for the lacrosse game to come that night, was overwhelming. You watched helplessly as it was trampled over by one, two, three, people, before finally you could reach down and take it in your hands. The paper was crinkled, and there was the light sketch of a muddy shoeprint now across the envelope. Even so, the letter was clearly addressed to you. Your name is messy letters across the back of the envelope. In Isaac's handwriting.
You thought over throwing it away, tossing it back down to the floor where it could be trampled over repeatedly, just as your heart had been whilst you loved Isaac. Your thumb ran across your name on the paper, and even though you were trying your best to leave Isaac behind, this was too intriguing to ignore. Isaac was never good with words unless they came in the form of sarcasm or smart comments. Slowly, you opened the envelope, the edges of it tearing as you tried to remove the content from within. You pulled out the piece of paper from inside and unfolded it carefully as if it were a bomb that could go off any minute. And then, you stood staring.
But once, he'd loved Allison, too. And there was always the chance that he still felt for her as he felt for you now. Second best was something you'd grown used to in Isaac's life, but if this was a time when you got to come first, you weren't going to share the podium. Slowly, you folded the letter and let it slide into the pocket in the back of your jeans. You needed time to think, and though every part of you was reeling, you held composure and made your way to the exit.
Isaac's handwriting, the messy scrawl of his heartfelt thoughts, and the things he felt toward you were laced on the paper. You could hear his voice in your mind as your eyes danced across the words, you could hear him laughing, singing, and shouting as you lent against your locker. Isaac loved you; it was here like a promise on paper, written in bleeding ink that stained the pages of your mind. He loved you. He loved you.
When you arrived home, the temperature dropped significantly. The sun was low, and the heat of it had dispersed from the air, leaving you to feel cold and alone as you made your way inside. Your room was as messy as your mind, and for some reason, you were overcome with the urge to clean it as you thought over the very compelling words Isaac had delivered you.
You could list a million reasons why you should leave Isaac behind, the top on said list being that you'd cried yourself dry over said boy more than once. But then again, that was love. Screaming, crying, and laughing until you were deemed insane, driven mad by affection, and passion. And you were still undeniably in love with the boy. That feeling couldn't simply fade.
By the time your clothes were folded, all your things in their collective places and your bed made, you had in turn made up your mind.
So, with a clean room and a racing heartbeat, you put on your coat and stepped into the cold.
-
The sun had set by the time Isaac and the rest of the lacrosse team ran onto the field, and as always, they were met by the cheers of their peers, parents, and friends. All but you, of course. Isaac listened hard but came up with nothing. He couldn't hear any trace of you in the stands, under the bleachers or anywhere in his vicinity. You hadn't shown, just as Isaac expected. He didn't deserve your praise and cheers after all. He wasn't your hero anymore, and perhaps he never was.
Scott gives Isaac a look from across the field. The boy knows he's distracted, he can probably sense the depression rolling off of Isaac in waves, and in true Scott fashion, he's concerned. Most likely, Scott and Stiles have already pieced together the puzzle that is Isaac's, broken heart. Maybe they voted on giving Isaac an intervention, a holiday away, or even grief counseling. He wouldn't be surprised, to say the least.
What is the cure for a broken heart? Food? Friends? A good cry? More so, what is the cure for a heart broken by Y/N L/N? Isaac doesn't believe there is one. No pain could be worse, and no band-aid could hold him together long enough for him to get over you. Not completely.
All Isaac can think of to do, is absolutely obliterate his opponents. Perhaps if he sees the opposing team members writhing on the ground, he'll feel better. So, that's what Isaac does. He bashes into one player after another, the loud whacks of each body colliding with his sending 'oohs' and 'ahh's' through the crowd. It's brutal and most definitely against the rules to some extent, but Coach Finstock doesn't take him off the field, because they're winning. Isaac is winning. The coach of the opposing team doesn't make a move either, almost as though he is too afraid of Isaac's wrath to argue. Good. Isaac needs this. It's most certainly a character flaw on his part, but he's heartbroken and in honesty could not care less. Perhaps he cared so much for you that he ran out of compassion for the rest of the world.
So, Isaac goes in for another attack, the other player heading down the field in the opposite direction from his team's goal, consumed by the fear of the werewolf, chasing him. Not that he knows Isaac's true capabilities, though the terrified expression on the boy's face could convince even Isaac that he does.
The crowd is shouting profusely, knowing what is about to befall the player Isaac is pursuing, but no one runs to stop the assault. It's a game after all, and if the coaches and referee deem it fairly played, so be it. Isaac is almost on top of the boy when he stops. It's as if something possesses him, freezing him in his tracks. He stumbles as he does so, the force at which he stopped his pace swaying him forward, but he's still on his feet and so is the other player.
Isaac hears something, a familiar beat rounding the corner. It's fast paced, nervous, and as Isaac turns to face the sound, he sees who the particular heartbeat belongs to.
You stand there fiddling with your hands, eyes scanning the field until they meet with his. There's a silent communication in that moment, and Isaac knows you've read the letter. You've seen into the mess that is his mind, and it terrifies him. He watches as you move forward, his heart beating out of his chest, first a walk, and then faster, all whilst Isaac is frozen to the spot both of awe and fear. The game around him comes to a pause as you make your way onto the field, stepping in front of players’ mid game. Isaac can hear those in the crowd muttering in confusion and frustration, he wants them all to shut up so he can focus on you. He just wants to focus on you.
It takes a while for you to reach him, the field is huge and it's hard to cover ground, even at the pace you’re going, but there is a part of Isaac that thinks he is seeing everything in slow motion. Like his anxiety is playing tricks on his mind.
It's not long before you're standing within arm’s reach of him, waiting for a reaction. Isaac's eyes scan over you, taking in the moment so that perhaps he can find it in himself to breathe again. You're staring him down, and he can sense fear in the beat of your heart, as if you think Isaac might not want to see you. In your hand is the letter, firmly grasped as if you are incapable of letting it go. Perhaps you came to give it back to him.
"Hi."
It's a relief for Isaac to hear your voice, even more so the fact that you are speaking to him. He never thought that would happen again.
"Hi." Isaac is sweating, nerves boiling over as he parrots your greeting. All he can do is watch as you glance down to the letter, and he's sure you're about to give it back when you look up at him once more.
"I'm not Allison."
Those three words burn like a hot poker, and Isaac despises the fact that he made you think you had to be someone you're not for him to care. He cares more than he thinks you will ever know.
"I don't want you to be." The words come easy, sliding from his lips with a thousand emotions, a potion of truth.
"You promise?"
"I promise."
And somehow, that's enough. The field is quiet, so is the crowd, and Isaac knows you're trying to ignore their stares, but that doesn't stop you from kissing him. It reminds him of the first time, standing in the hallway with everyone watching, the first time he truly let himself feel everything for you. His mind goes back to the day on this very same field, where it was just you and him under the floodlights with no one else to see. But most of all Isaac is focused on now. It's the first time his lips have met yours in a moment unplanned, an impulse that proves just how powerfully his heart beats for you. He doesn't waste a second in kissing you back, relishing in the feel of your arms around his neck, and just how close you are to him after being apart.
You break away only when you hear Stiles shouting, his voice recognisable anywhere. He's yelling out comedic lines straight out of a movie, teasing the both of you with 'get a rooms' and 'break it up lovebirds' but he's clapping for you through it all like a child.
Isaac ignores him, bringing a hand up to tilt your face back his way. He wants you smiling at him, not a Stilinski.
"So, we're really doing this?" Isaac can't help the way the words come out in a whisper, but he's so close you to he knows that you hear them. You're looking up at him, and he can feel your heart racing, he knows his is doing just the same.
"For real this time?"
Isaac smiles, hand on your cheek "For real this time."
-
AN: screaming, crying, throwing up rn omg.
TEEN WOLF TAGLIST: @arignipanja574
ISAAC LAHEY TAGLIST: @noonesheren @lselnerys @anonymouslyheresblog @anitdot @d34d-4c1d @lnnlove
SERIES TAGLIST: @notwendows @eden-0 @we-flower-fan @sannaa56 @proudhufflepuff77 @justme-brogan
GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads
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sasusakucoded · 5 months
Text
When Sasuke and Sai have to work together, Sakura and Ino make it as an excuse to have a double date.
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At the nail salon..
Sakura: Ino, is Sai picking you up or he'll go straight to the restaurant?
Ino: He's kinda busy right now, so he might be late actually.. Why?
Sakura: *looks at the waiting area* Sasuke-kun looks so bored. I thought he would have someone to talk to.
Ino: As if Sai and Sasuke-kun would actually talk about non-mission things. *laughs*
Sakura: *laughs* Right.
Ino: You should've told Sasuke-kun that you'll meet him there.
Sakura: Hmmm. Sasuke-kun always picks me up no matter how long he needs to wait. *blushes*
Ino: I forgot that you just got married yesterday. *rolls her eyes and laughs*
Sakura: *laughs* Plus, it's snowing! He wants to make sure I'm safe.
Ino: Yeah, right!
---
At the restaurant..
Sai: The mission requires 20 ANBU as per the scroll.
Sasuke: Isn't that too many? I think we can do with 10.
Sai: I thought so too. I need to check with Shikamaru.
Sakura: *about to open her soda can*
Sasuke: Yes, please check with him. *takes the can from Sakura without looking at her and pulls the tab with one hand; gives the can back* Your fingernails.. *turns to Sai again* Having too many people on missions can cause trouble too.
Sakura: *smiles and blushes* Thank you, Anata..
Ino: *looks at her teasingly*
Sai: Our HQ is near here, if you like I can show you the scroll for full details.
Ino: Hey, can't that wait later?
Sai: We'll be back before the food is ready.
Sasuke: Okay. *gets up*
Sai: *leaves with Sasuke*
Ino: *mimics Sakura* Thank you, Anata!
Sakura: Stoooop! You're so annoying, Ino! *laughs*
Ino: *laughs* Is he always like that though?
Sakura: Like that? What do you mean?
Ino: You know.. Doing the little things?
Sakura: Yeah.. And mindlessly too, if I may add. He could be busy with something else but he's still very attentive.
Ino: Sai couldn't multitask but he's trying to be at the moment when we're together.
Sakura: Yeah, Sai is trying very hard to please you! I remember him asking about your preferred this and that all the time.
Ino: Our husbands can be cute sometimes, you know. *laughs* So in return, I try to be very appreciative.. Especially lately..
Sasuke and Sai come back while the food is also being served.
Ino: How is it outside?
Sai: The snow is getting thick but nothing crazy at the moment.
Ino: Good.
Sasuke: *takes the saucer and makes dipping sauce for Sakura's food; pushes it to her side*
Sakura: Thank you, Anata!
Sasuke: *takes her plate and removes the chili from her food* Here.
Sakura: Thank you.. I'll give you my tomatoes.. *gets his plate to transfer the tomatoes*
Ino: Sai, will you eat your cherry tomatoes?
Sai: Yeah. *immediately sees her reaction* But I'm— I'm giving them to you actually. Of course I know they're your favorite.
Ino: Really? Aww thanks Sai! *puts her head on his shoulder*
Sai: *smiles*
---
Sakura: Are you sure you don't want to go home yet?
Ino: Well, even if I want to, Sai still wants to work. *looks at him*
Sai: I'll just finish a few reports then we'll head home too.
Sakura: Well, then. We're going! Bye!
Ino: Bye Sakura, Sasuke-kun! *leaves with her husband*
Sasuke: *leads the way; makes a path on the snow for Sakura* Step on the shoeprints that I made.
Sakura: *smiles* Thank you, Anata! They're very helpful!
---
At home..
Sakura: *drops her spoon* Oh. *bends down to pick it up*
Sasuke: *puts his hand on the sharp corner of the coffee table, so it's okay even if she hits her head*
Sakura: *notices but doesn't react; happy deep down*
Sasuke: I'll just drink water, Sakura. *leaves*
Sakura: *nods*
Sasuke: *comes back with a glass of water* Your water..
Sakura: Thank you, Anata!
Sasuke: *nods*
Sakura: Don't you think it's too cold?
Sasuke: Yeah..
Sakura: *hugs him tightly* Thank you for always taking care of me, Anata..
Sasuke: You're the one taking care of me.
Sakura: Of course.. Because you're my baby..
Sasuke: *smirks*
Sakura: Let's always take care of each other forever?
Sasuke: *nods* Certainly.
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