#so . much. work. i don’t know how people did it. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pupcuck · 2 days

Text

(I COULD NEVER BE) YOUR WOMAN !

ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. crossdressing, force fem, short instance of groping/harassment by some gross man, humiliation, dom!reader, a few misogynistic comments surprisingly not from leon, repressed homosexuality, leon n some unnamed cute guy, r slur is used ONCE by same gross dude, slight angst, implied/past sa very light tho, public sex, dub-con

note. title from white town duh has nothing to do w the fic. um unedited n quite bad not loving this but here u go.. 2000s clubbing.. I also want 2 say r slur is used by some dude who is just awful to leon in this.. not meant to be like . y’know there for shock value lol it’s a word I’ve been called a lot so that would be my last intention. um leon has some misogynistic thoughts but I don’t want them to come across as mine LMFAO I know that I do a very close pov so I don’t want my views to mix with the characters as people usually tend to think. comments n rbs greatly appreciated!

“You hate me,” Leon states like an upset child, one false lash deep into a murky pit he couldn’t even grapple hook his way out of.

“No, baby.” You shake your head, smiling at him like you hate him. “I love you very much.” The other lash is stuck on, black and spiky in kitchen knife points. He blinks and the heaviness does not melt away like sleep. “My sweet girl.”

“You do,” Leon says, he makes a vague gesture towards his attire, scooping nothing but air with his cupped hand, “hate me,” he adds after a second, the words hang heavy in the air like sopping wet laundry or a body from a tree. You’re busy giving him a once over, a small hand lightly grasping his chin to keep his head up. You’ve never held him so gently before, but this is how girls treat other girls, he supposes. With great care.

“What?” You use a lint roller to pick up loose fibre and tricky stray particles of dust. “Because I made you all pretty, honey?” You lean forward, and Leon, besotted, closes his eyes as if you’re going to kiss him. “I just did your makeup, no kisses, Leon.” Of course, that’s right, he forgot, no kisses. You lick your finger and smudge your work to give him that freshly fucked and wanting more appeal.

“Sorry.” He looks at his reflection.

Blink. Blink. Blink. His eyes make a tacky noise, as if each blink is unsticking them.

He looks ridiculous, not even like a drag queen, they are tasteful and deliberate in their art. He looks exactly like what he is - a man in a wig. There is no pretty way to put it because what he is looking at is not very pretty. The wig tickles his neck like a pale whisper. It is shining too brightly in the way all fake things do, plasticky in the buzzing bathroom light. Metallic shimmer dusts his eyelids like crushed stars, iridescent-pearlescent is all the rage nowadays, it’s barely visible past the thick black that lines his eyes like you’re actively trying to worsen his bags and push him into panda territory.

Leon thinks it is a good idea to think of nothing ever again, like ever. If he didn’t have that thought, if he didn’t sit opposite you at the dining table confessional-style, if he shut his mouth and never spoke a word—Then he would not be sitting here closer to tears than he ever has been, fists clenched tight enough to make coal into diamonds.

You thumb the corner of his glossed lips. “Ready?” You ask him, then turn to face him, pulling a smile that is so mean it’s somewhat ugly and out of place on a face like yours. “Don’t speak or you’ll ruin it, ‘kay?”

A bag big enough to carry a lip gloss tube and nothing else dangles on your pinky as you check your face in the mirror, usually your gloss would be in Leon’s breast pocket, or his back pocket. Whatever pocket he has available.

Today he has nothing of the sort, embarrassingly, you place a tube between his pecs and it stays. You tip your head back and laugh at him, swiping it away a moment later. “I’m only joking, Leon.”

A considerable amount of muscle has been dropped since he came back from Spain. Cooking is hard, eating is harder, and he only really makes the effort when you visit. You don’t pry, so it’s only now that he notices, filling out your dress too well, that his edge has almost completely been lost to softness.

And it’s still there—He’s still a man with a dick and balls first and foremost. His arms are big, and his chest juts out in the wrong way. Wrong. It’s all so wrong.

This thought is neutered by your hand on his too-big bicep, fingers curling to his shape as you guide him along the stairs in matching kitten heels, he clutches the bannister for support like he’s going into labour.

Today you drive. “Got to treat you like a princess,” you say, smiling at him. All teeth. You take off your heels and kick them beneath the seat where they’ll surely tangle in the cables.

Leon reclines in his seat, closing his eyes and breathing in and out, two minutes away from inducing labour. Dramatics, y’know? Because he’s a girl today, not because he feels like he is being gutted by a claw machine.

You drive, he tosses and turns and squints at the road ahead to hide his creased brow. You drive, and he wonders what led him to this very moment, what has become of him and his pity party life. But Simon Says and Leon does. You say and Leon follows blindly like a die-hard fucking fan of Jesus would. A disciple, he guesses, but in some way even that is too much credit. At least they were, like, on equal grounds. He’s too passive to be Judas, and too much of an unbeliever to be any of the other ones. He is just some fucking mangey street urchin suckling on the teat of a wild dog that Jesus patted once and cured and would not leave the poor dude alone.

Unfortunately, Leon takes instructions better than he does dick and that is his problem. Yeah, that’s what he was trying to say before it all got away from him.

The bouncer questions nothing, no ID is needed, which is both a relief and an insult to Leon. Does he look that old? This makeup, this dress, this stringy mop of a wig it ages him.

The bass of a thousand beating hearts rips through him.

If Leon was a girl he’d simply kill himself. It hurts too much. The dress is itchy and his chest is sweating and his full face of makeup is melting his skin into goop and his feet are killing him. He’s sorry for all those times he requested a girl keep her stilettos on during sex. He’s sorry to you for buying you shoes on all those anniversaries, birthdays and Christmases. He’s sorry for that time he requested a lap dance in heels on your anniversary, his birthday, and that joint Christmas. He is sorry to every fucking woman for the system that has been put in place that requires them to wear heels to work and to dinner dates and to pick their kids up from preschool.

“Are you hurting, baby?” You place a cool hand on his cheek, feather-light, ensuring you don’t smear his pasty foundation. When he nods, pitiful, you coo at him. “Oh, big ol’ Agent Kennedy, I’m sure you can handle it, sweetie.”

Leon shakes his head again, firmer and sadder. “You can handle it,” you tell him, smiling dropping as fast as it came. A hand comes to rest on his waist then slides upwards along his naked back, courtesy of the open back of his blue dress, gliding over his pronounced shoulder blades. Lily-white and spread sideways like lotus petals or something akin to angel wings.

The two of you end up in a booth with four men and a red-headed girl who is decently pretty. She talks too fast for Leon’s liking, and each time she opens her mouth, which is a lot of fucking times for a long fucking time, her spit flies out and lands on his face in beads.

There is a man who’s tall and strapping in the way Leon likes his men in the private fantasies he keeps hidden in the lonely gallery that is his mind. His experience with dick starts with Jack and ends somewhere before you. Jack taught him how to work a dick, and if Leon were to kiss and tell, he’d tell this man how much he wants to play with it, stroke it and love on it.

(Only if he was a girl, which tonight he is.)

You’re midway through telling a story, leant in for added effect, elbows on the sticky table. “And Leon says, she’s like—“ Your voice fades out.

Another guy, stout and ugly, sort of piggish in the face, asks, “Is it a dude?” He jabs his thumb in Leon’s direction. “That’s a dude's name.”

“What, no.” You frown, breezing over your blunder like fingers on silk. “It’s a nickname, y’know, from when we were kids, ‘cause she looks like a dude.” Laughter lifts into the air like plumes of smoke. Leon feels like he is breathing it in, tiny shards crystallise in his lungs and choke him.

He shouldn’t be humiliated, there is nothing to be humiliated about because he is what you say he is. He’s a dude. But he is humiliated, and it is driving him mad, he has killed himself in a hundred different brutal ways in his head while you talk.

“She don’t talk, she got a problem?” He says in his nasty, thick voice. “Is she retarded?” It sounds like there’s phlegm lodged in his throat all the fucking time. “Feminist?” Good lord.

“Oh my gosh, like, I don’t think you can say that,” the ginger smiles nervously.

“She just gets a little scared around guys.” Your smile is so cold it chills him to his core. “Bad experiences, y’know?”

Not exactly wrong. Leon is weary of shared showers, he is weary of urinals, of stalls with busted locks, and he is weary of other men, but he would never say it and he would never show it. But now, sitting here as a girl, as a woman, he trembles.

“Oh, yeah?” The dude sits back, spreads his legs to accommodate a dick he likely doesn’t have. Then he leaves it at that.

You kiss him to make up for the silence, you grope his tits—his chest through the fabric of his dress, you raise your Von Dutch tee to show off your cute heart-shaped pasties. None of it is for Leon, it’s for the guys sitting in front of you, because as a woman you exist for men, to perform and flash your panties and act like you’re into it.

Which you are, he knows your pussy is wet ‘cause of that look on your face, eyes glinting like marbles, you’re getting off on him being stretched past his limits.

An hour later, you push him onto the dance floor, watching through throngs of people and Leon is met with the pig-faced guy, he’s pink and sweaty like one too. Leon denies every advance he lays out. Then fingers splay over the round of Leon’s ass, and his flesh is gripped so tight it mottles how dicks purple.

The guy says something and everything and nothing but fluff. You uppity slut—You think you can—Speak up—Y’know, even the ugliest bitches have wet little pussies between their legs—

Leon really does not.

Leon could push him off. He could break his fingers, disable him, kill him in the middle of this godforsaken dance floor. But he just stands there and stares like a real woman.

(But he has always stood there and looked death right in the eye, it comes hurtling, barrelling into him at full speed like a shit-caked asteroid and all he does is stand there. He’s not had the energy to get back up lately.)

The handsome guy, the one that is taller than Leon, the one that he likes a lot, steps in and saves him. And this is what it must feel like, to be swept off your feet. To be princess carried and loved sweetly by someone worn and rough.

Christ, this wig has a mind of its own. Infecting Leon’s psyche with its mushy bullshit. He wants to go home. He wants a beer and a drag from your cigarette. He doesn’t smoke, but he will tonight.

“Are you alright?” The handsome man somehow manages to shout gently over the music. He is so nice, and so handsome it feels wrong to look at him. Leon thinks he knows, and when this man smiles, Leon knows that he knows for certain. “I won't tell.” He grins down at Leon again, soft and brilliant and kind.

Leon passes you on the way to the bathroom, he tells you that it’s getting stuffy in here, then he leaves to get stuffed with cock in the ladies room as all good boyfriends do.

The click of heels makes him suck in a breath, he plants two hands on the broad chest in front of him, tightens around the dick in him so hard he might cut off all blood flow, salty fingers in his mouth keep him from crying out.

Leon knows it’s you from the clink of your bangles. The source of chatter is the red-headed girl, you likely motion for her to be silent—He counts to twenty then meets your eye under the gap in the door. He whimpers around the fingers in his mouth.

“Oh my gosh, there’s totally someone in there,” you gush to the other girl who gasps, “I saw, like, two pairs of shoes, really cute heels.”

“She’s luckyyy, I hope she’s getting it good,” she sighs, “hey, where’d your friend go by the way, the blonde one?”

“Leon?” You seem to pause, weighing up your options. “She’s a total fucking slut.”

“No fucking way!”

“Yes fucking way, I bet she’s gone home with some guy already—I mean, she might be in that fucking stall, wouldn’t put it past her.”

In the stall, Leon shifts, back bumping the wall as he pushes his hips out, grinding down on his dick like he needs this over and done with.

“I could never do that…” The redhead says, “It’s, like, so icky in here…”

“I don’t think Leon minds,” you muse, “I mean, like, don’t tell her I told you, but she gets on her knees in club bathrooms, like, she’s dirty.”

“Gross!”

“I know!” You burst into giggles. “I told her that’s, like, way too far! I mean they don’t even clean these places properly, they send some underpaid dude with a Kleenex out to do the job.”

Leon’s knees ache with the guilt of sucking dick on his knees in a Kleenex-cleaned club bathroom. The dick inside of him throbs, a single push and it spills into the rubber.

The click of heels fades out as you and your newfound friend exit the bathroom.

“You let your friend talk about you like that?” The man asks, smiling still.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Leon says meekly in a voice that is not his. He has never been meek or scared or anything of the sort. Leon has guts, too many maybe, they make him stupid. That’s what he gets by on. That’s why Leon returns home. Because he tries not to make a place for feelings.

“I know.” The guy shrugs, he spins Leon around so his back is facing the mirrors. Leon twists his head to look. The striated planes of his back. Your nails in his skin.

“Oh.”

Leon gets in your car and apologises.

“Aw.” You pinch his cheek, uncaring of your heavy hand now that his lipstick is smeared in rings around another man’s dick. “I know, baby, my girl just wanted to have fun.”

My girl, my girl, my girl. He’s not your girl. You’re his girl, and he’s your man and that’s the way Leon likes it. He likes to drape his arm over your shoulders in place of a coat when it gets windy, he likes to pay the bill on dates, he likes to drive you around and he likes to hold your shopping bags. Because that is good and swell and—It’s normal.

You drive him home without saying a word, letting him sit and drown in the weight of his problems until you help him inside, he’s hindered by 1.5 inch heels.

When Leon tries to take his dress off, you stop him. “Princess,” you coo, his teeth rot and he smells the cavities, “I want to play with you.”

“Not like this,” he begs, gazing up at you through his false lashes.

“Yes, like this, baby.” You sit him down on the couch, you take off your heels and then bend down to unbuckle the strap on his. That’s his job. Leon should be doing that for you, a tender grip on your ankle as he threads the metal through the needled holes. “Look at these.” You stand back up, taking the seat beside him, one of your small hands grabbing the underside of his thighs and spreading him open, a leg thrown over yours. “These cute tits,” you say, kissing his neck as you shove your hand down the low-cut neck of his dress, grabbing at his chest in pinching handfuls.

“Don’t call them that,” Leon says quietly, his ears pink like the pucker of his hole.

“I’ll say what I want, princess, okay?” You kiss him hard, teeth knocking into his and your wet tongue running over his front teeth like you want to scrape the plaque from them. “I’m going to fuck you like a girl,” you tell him, pushing his legs as far as they go, his toes curl.

“I don’t like that—“

“I don’t like your dick or your stupid sex talk and I don’t like being fucking pile drived, do you think I like being folded like origami you stupid fucking oaf?” It’s said in the same measured tone of voice you always use, the one that makes him feel stupid. “This is what it’s like being a girl, baby, gotta do what I want.”

Then you lift your hips, skirt shed and panties to the side, puffy pussy swallowing the tip of his cock as you sit on it, taking it inch by inch by inch by inch. All four of ‘em. You hold onto his ankles as you fuck yourself on his cock, a soft squelch everytime his cock bottoms out, slick dripping down his thick shaft and balls.

Leon doesn't like this. How you have him. How you’re taking him, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling good. Your pussy is wet and warm and it squeezes around him, gripping his cock like it’s all you’ve got to live for. You reach between your thighs to rub your swollen clit, but Leon beats you, wanting to make himself useful.

“Good girl,” you praise, eyes rolling back into your skull as you slow your pace, coming to a halt as you place a hand over his, urging him to rub you raw. Then you cum as he presses his thumb into your tiny bud hard, cunt spasming around his dick, letting out a gasp and toppling forward into his chest. Leon’s cock slips out of your cunt, rock hard and lonely, he holds you as his legs drop to the floor, feet on the floor where they belong.

“I didn’t… I didn’t get to…” Leon looks at your face and then his stiff dick, pouting almost.

“I know, baby.” You kiss his head tenderly, so tender he nearly forgets why he’s upset. “But you’re a girl now, right?”

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy angst #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil angst #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you

115 notes · View notes

mattyriddlesbitch · 1 day

Note

I don’t see any rules for what you do and don’t write but I’m thinking ghostface/stalker Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott or Tom Riddle

Yesssss, I love Scream! Let me know if you guys want more of this with the other boys or more of Mattheo!

My Princess

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Stalking, killing, Ghostface, mention of assault

Don't read if this stuff bothers you!

There’s been reportings of a murderer in your area. One who donned a mask. ‘Ghostface’ is what they started calling him.

It was scary, trying to live with a serial killer nearby, who could be anyone since no one saw their face.

The killings seemed random at first. No pattern, no specific target demographic, no connections to each other.

Then, unfortunately or fortunately for you, he killed your cheating ex. And your old bully. And that one teacher who seemed like he had it out for you.

It got scarier for you. Seeing so many people who had connections to you being killed.

Only, it got worse when, the day after the murders, little boxes appeared at your door with an item from the victims and flowers. Each time, you called the cops, but they would make a report and leave, saying they can’t really do anything else.

It was frustrating and terrifying. You invested in a doorbell camera, hoping to catch whoever it was leaving these on your doorstep. But they didn’t show up again. Not at your door, at least.

Next was a box on your bed in your room, this one just filled with flowers and jewelry. As soon as you saw it, you got chills and a gut-wrenching feeling knowing they were in your room.

You called the cops again, but since there was no footage or DNA left behind, all they could do was make another report.

They started leaving notes now. Telling you how pretty you are, how sweet you are, how much he adores you and is obsessed with you. Again, cops won’t do anything, no DNA or footage.

You set a camera up in your room to catch them. You caught them when you were at work, but they were in a Ghostface mask and waved at your camera. They left a note on your bed and left. That was all they did that you caught on camera. You stopped sleeping at your place, waiting for the lease to end in a few months. Your friends let you crash at their place until the notes and gifts started showing up there. You had to go back to your place since no one wanted to let you in theirs with fear they’d show up.

They promised to never hurt you, they were protecting you, they were keeping you safe from everyone who ever hurt you or plans to hurt you.

You heard about a co-worker that was killed one day at work, and the next day, you see papers of screenshots printed out from the co-worker talking about what he wanted to do to you, how he was planning on asking you out to a bar and assaulting you. That made you feel sick. But now you were starting to see this stalker was telling the truth. Maybe they were protecting you.

You still kept the cameras up and bought some weapons for your place, even a handgun.

“You don’t need all this protection, princess. I’ll always protect you.” That was on a note left on your bed, but they left all your weapons alone.

You finally had enough of the cops not doing anything, of no one helping you, of not feeling safe anymore. Whoever this was wasn’t hurting you, just being creepy. You wrote notes back to them, asking who they were and why they kept stalking you.

“Stalking? No, I’m protecting you.” They would write back. “I wouldn’t do anything to harm you. You’re precious to me. I love you.”

It really didn’t help the creepiness, but at least you were finally talking to them. You were hoping to gain their trust and meet them, hopefully kill them.

“You wanna meet me, princess? It’s tempting. But I wouldn’t want you to do something irrational.” They wrote back. “Do you trust me?”

You wanted to say ‘no’ but you couldn’t. Not if you wanted to meet them.

So you said ‘yes’ and the notes stopped. You thought you scared them away maybe. Maybe they thought it was too much to meet you.

Until a few days later, you had just gotten back from work. It was a Friday night and you sat at your counter in the kitchen, drinking wine, trying to calm your nerves from everything. You were always on edge nowadays and needed something to help with it. You were tipsy at this point, just eating and drinking as you let yourself relax.

Then you saw a figure emerge from the hallway to stand on the other side of the counter from you, wearing all black and the Ghostface mask.

You panicked and tried running, but your stalker was faster. They grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to them, grabbing your other wrist as well to keep you from running.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, princess.” A male voice said behind the mask. “You wanted to meet. I’m here.”

You were still panicking, but stopped fighting him. You stared at the mask. Fear took over your body again when you remembered he didn’t just stalk you, but also killed people and you kicked him and took off running again when he let go, running towards your room since that was closest. He ran after you, blocking the door before you could close it.

“Please, I don’t want any of this. I-” You broke into sobs as you backed away.

“No, no , no, princess. I won’t hurt you. I promise. You’re the most important thing in my life.” He said, closing the door behind him as he spoke softly.

“Why do you do this?” You asked with a shaky voice.

“To protect you. No one will ever hurt you, baby.” He was walking closer and you backed up until you hit the wall.

“Who are you?” You asked, still crying from fear.

He took off his mask to reveal someone you worked with. The co-worker your dead co-worker was messaging about you with.

“Mattheo?” You said with a confused look.

“I just wanted to protect you. To keep you safe from all the evil in the world. You don’t deserve any of that.” He was still speaking softly as he stepped in front of you.

“You killed people.” You whispered.

“People who hurt you. I couldn’t let them live after hurting you.” He said, touching your arm softly and you flinched.

“They didn’t deserve that.”

“They did. You’re perfect. No one should ever hurt you or make you feel bad again.” He moved his other hand to your hair. “I’ve been dreaming about touching you for so long.” His voice was quiet. As much as you feared him, his touch was reverent, like he was savoring every touch of your skin.

“Why did you break into my house?” You asked quietly, meeting his eyes.

“You put the camera up. I wasn’t ready to be caught just yet.” He said with a small smile, trailing his hand up and down your arm, his other hand running through your hair gently.

“We work together. Why didn’t you just talk to me if you felt this way?”

“I was too nervous. You’re perfect. You’re so pretty and funny and sweet and I couldn’t stand the thought of you rejecting me.” His hand on your arm moved up to cup your cheek. “Would you reject me now?”

You shook your head. “No. I wouldn’t.” You said, but you were still terrified.

He smiled. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, hoping if you played along, you could get away at some point.

He leaned in and kissed you gently, timidly. He was nervous. You kissed back, trying to think of a way out of this. It was hard to think when he was kissing you so sweetly.

He broke the kiss and looked at your face. “Your lips are softer than I ever imagined.” He smiled again, brushing his thumb along your cheek. “You’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes.” You nodded.

“My princess. All mine now.” He said before kissing you again.

Now that you were in his hands, he wasn’t letting you go.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict

Let me know if you wanna be added!

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader

133 notes · View notes

nexility-sims · 1 day

Text

𝐍𝐎. 𝟕 ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜ | AUGUST 1991

❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

Trish Fitzpatrick wore many hats, but her favorite was “freelance journalist.” Her area of expertise grew directly out of myriad side gigs: what she called portrait pieces of interesting people. Outlets clamored for them—or, they had since she’d buttered up famous, neurotic opera singer-turned-starlet Prudence Boone into revealing she had a glass eye, a secret runaway daughter, and a hair-eating habit. Of course, Prudence was basically a stranger. They had once had a fifteen minute conversation on the deck of a yacht, bonding over the fact that neither actually knew to whom the vessel belonged. Prudence thought Trish’s outlandish suggestions were funny enough to remember her when she called to pitch the piece. It had gone the same way with Renzo. Of course, they had met while fighting over a scarf in a vintage clothing store. Trish considered letting him win to be a debt, one for which she would demand recompense at the ideal time. Opportunities passed, and then August 1991 proved to be the time.

❧ i got the irresistible urge to do renzo backstory, which was meant to be an outtake, but then i was like, "uh, no, this totally works as story proper if i put leonor in it," so here we are ! context and such. given the amount of work, this might be my magnum opus until further notice ... it was also just fun to do :^) checked off the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll boxes ?? where's my prize. in conclusion, i love my white boy of the week or whatever

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

I grew up in a tiny town—Petunia. Petunia? You say it differently. It’s the country coming out, I guess. Not “pee-tyoon-ee-ah,” it’s “puh-toon-yuh.” Petunia. That’s it. So, how was it? Fond memories? In retrospect, maybe. I wanted to get the hell out of there from day one. What I remember is being very unhappy—dispositionally sullen, not just a pouty kid, but fully down and out. Born that way, probably. And your parents? My parents … Life had the upper hand, man. They were good at losing. I didn’t want that life.

My dad professed to be a traveling salesman—What, he wasn’t? I mean, he didn’t know jack shit about vacuums or whatever the fuck. I don’t know. But, he wasn’t around a lot, it sounds like? Gone for weeks at a time. Just me and my mom. How was she? Not really there either. When I got home from school, she’d pop her pills and be gone until morning. She wasn’t avoiding me; she was avoiding life. She did what she had to do in the mornings—you know, I had what I needed, the bare essentials—but she was checked out. You had a lot of unsupervised time, then. Oh, did I. Too much. I mean, I had books to read, and I got into music early—From her? No. My dad’d blow into town and bring pity gifts. Not kid-appropriate shit, now that I think about it. Heavy, gritty stories. A guitar I was too little to use. Flip lighter. But, you know, I was a kid. I wanted to run and play with everyone else, too. Of course.

Here’s the thing: it was hard to be a scrawny kid named Lorencio in Petunia. Shit, I can imagine. What was that like? … Hard, like I said. Well—Details? I got the shit kicked out of me. Regularly. What do they call it—um—“school of hard knocks”? Yeah. I remember, one time, I limped home on a Saturday. Mom was out of it, but she leapt up when she saw all the blood. Cleaned me up. It’s like I’m there now—in that bathroom with the dirty tile, her burning me with peroxide … She didn’t really talk, you know, not in a serious way? But she did then? She said, in Uspanian, “‘Don’t roll over for anyone.’” Interesting. So, that’s the lesson? Part of it. I realized that summer it didn’t matter if you were scrawny, if you talked funny, if you were poor. What mattered was not being a pussy. [Laughs] Oh, yeah? If you want credibility, if you want respect, sometimes you gotta be able to take a beating. Don’t roll over. That’s right.

I think it also helped when the growth spurt hit. You must’ve still been scrawny. [Laughs] String bean. So it goes. Adolescence . Now, you grew up fast, is what I’ve heard. You could say that. My life changed when Marty got out of lock-up—Sorry, what?—for “teen offenders”; he set his grandparents’ car on fire—oh, I see, regular kid shit—Uh huh. We hit it off. He introduced me to other guys, including Jesse. They’d huff gas together. Oh my God. Not whippits? Sure, but less convenient. That’s—No good, yeah. Fun though. Have you—? I’ve tried everything, Patricia.

Jesus! So, Marty and Jesse…? We got on like a house fire. [Groans] They were into petty crime for the thrill of it—Now, Renzo, is arson petty? He did it one fucking time. Everyone overreacted. They got into trouble for fun, and for you it was—? Money. Not a lot. I was too dumb to consider the risks. But, you did other things for money, too? Don’t say it like that. I wasn’t hooking. [Snorts] I worked a lot. I was cutting school to work, getting paid under the table, all of that. Maybe—hear me out—some of it was thrilling for you, too? I won’t tell anyone. [Chuckles] What can I say? Credibility.

I feel like I’m mischaracterizing … I love Marty and Jesse, to this day. Jesse’s daughter is your godchild, right? Yeah. Marty went back to Petunia in … ‘88? Jesse and I had better luck, or maybe we were just more desperate. Either way, my point is that delinquents get a bad rap—With good reason! Sure, okay. Both of them were deeper and more complicated than that. You’re not an outlier. No. We’re a dime a dozen. No one gives them the chances you got. Uh huh. So, we bonded over that—feeling down and out, like I said, but also the fact that we loved music. Marty’s family had money, so they’d bought him a nice bass guitar. But, Jesse’s mind … He’s so fucking creative. He wasn’t a reader, but I could tell him about something I’d been chewing on, and he’d have a song inspired by it within the hour. He has an incredible voice, too. He does.

I guess it’s not surprising that you guys did what you did. There was nothing for us at home, you know? Packing up and heading out west didn’t feel like a risk. And your mom understood that? Better than anyone. I know people judged her—shit, I judge her, too—but I always knew she was trying. That’s sweet. Is it? I mean, I think so … She met my dad at a bus stop three weeks after she arrived in the country and made the mistake of getting off at his stop. That’s it. That was her crime. Well, I’m sure she’s doing better now, huh? She lives in a nicer house in a nicer city, but that doesn’t cure depression, now does it? I suppose not. There was this woman whose lawn I’d cut all the time … A real bitch, but she was extra nice because she felt bad for me. Hated my mother. I think she was just jealous because my dad was her high school sweetheart. Isn’t that just how it goes? Damn foreigner stealing a real catch from her. [Scoffs] Sticky fingers when she invited me inside for lemonade—cigs and quarters from her purse, Valium from the cabinet, that kind of thing. [Laughs] Casual. It was pretty brazen, honestly. Fucking dumb kid.

Alright, so, you come out here with Marty and Jesse to make music, and now you’re a serious actor with a name and a big career ahead of you. How’d that happen? It was completely accidental. While we waited for a record deal, I did odd jobs, like auto work—you know, in a body shop. It was decent. Had you worked on cars before that? So, I got familiar, uh … [Chuckles] We’ve established I was a rascal. We could get under the hood of a parked car and make a few dollars off parts. I can get you in so much trouble, Renzo! [Laughs]

Don’t tell anyone, come on! I was a kid. Have a heart. I guess it paid off. But, alright, body work? What’s the connection? It’s kind of convoluted. When business was slow, the guy I worked for loaned his employees out to another mechanic. This guy, long story short, brought me along to assist him on a movie set. I guess he was a known quantity? Everyone knows the right guy! That’s everyone’s explanation for where they end up. Me, too. Uh huh. I don’t know why they let me do it, but—Somehow it worked out. Yeah, it did. Right place, right time.

You’re in the spot. How did you get into it, though? This is embarrassing as hell but, fuck it, I’ll be honest. Please. Don’t stop now. [Chuckles] I got a shot because I’d been chatting up this girl who, as it turns out, was the director’s kid—or, in fact, she approached me. I had no idea who she was or why she was there. Of course she did! That’s not surprising, is it? I think I was the most disinterested person there. I don’t know. Anyway, we talked a couple times, then—out of the blue—someone asked me if I wanted to hop into a scene, say a line, ten seconds flat. She did that for you? I don’t know what she did. No one mentioned her. Maybe she thought you looked like a movie star. [Snorts] Fuck. I hope not. Did you want to do it? I wanted to make music. I wanted to finish reading my book. I wanted … I mean, I said yeah. Can’t decline that. Makes a good story, right? What happened with her—? Oh, hell. Sorry! Moving on, for now. [Groans]

I got a call several weeks later about an audition. How did that feel? Bizarre. We’d done a demo for a producer once, but this was different. Were you excited? I was terrified. But, I went. Didn’t get that part, although everyone was perfectly nice to me. How disappointing. You always remember your first … But, hey, you have to look at it this way: I didn’t want to be an actor. I thought it was cool, but it felt like … ? Go ahead, give me a good metaphor. Like when you’ve been craving your favorite food, but then someone offers you a helping of something different, new, appetizing. How’s that? Passable. C-plus. [Laughs] Fuck you, Pat.

Okay, so the road didn’t end there. No, it didn’t. I got another call, and that one went well. This was for … Sugar Sweet? That’s the one. Cornball, but I love that movie. Never seen it. What! How is that possible? You were in it. You went to the premiere screening. There are pictures. Saw my first scene, excused myself to go piss, didn’t come back until the applause had started. Wow. Everyone has opinions about that movie these days—very contentious, whether or not Alicia was in the wrong when she left me and stole my lifelong dream. What do you think? Me, Renzo? Good for her. I thought it was kind of bitchy. It’s peculiar how many women say that. I wonder why … ! Billy’s so dreamy. Please, ask me about something else, Pat. So, this romantic comedy is your launching pad. It leads to the television show. The television show blows up immediately. Walk me through what that felt like?

Also terrifying. I really cannot emphasize enough that I didn’t want attention. I wanted money and time to support my music, and acting seemed like a good way to do that. Just didn’t account for the side effects. Like fame? Uh huh. I was a nobody in Sugar Sweet, and the pay was shit, but it felt like a miraculously good deal at the time. What it did is put me in the running for more serious work. I think, even then, sometimes the casting folks were hesitant to take a risk on someone with no experience whatsoever, even if they had—A spark? Talent? Sure. It was unsettling, the idea that I was some kind of “natural,” and I compensated by working really hard. Well, you’ve established yourself as a hard worker. Sure. I guess they saw that—the improvement, in addition to the fact that I had a resume to speak of by then. Or, eh, they saw that you were pretty. Right, of course, you don’t need talent if you have Teen Mag’s favorite cheekbones. [Snickers] I joined a cast with other people who had very little experience, and we bonded over that. I just didn’t expect to be … What, the center of attention? That, yeah.

You know what’s fucking weird? Huh? Signing your name on a picture of your own face that belongs to someone else. That they’re going to take it home and pin it to their fucking wall or frame it on their bedside table. Someone’s kid treating you like their school crush, blushing and shit while they’re asking for you to do it. That does seem like a strange experience. Over and over again. Teenyboppers, goddamn. You were in the magazines for them. I read a couple interviews. No the fuck I was not. I did not do those. No? What they do is take quotes from actual, consented conversations and stitch them together for their own use. It’s legal. That’s fascinating. Maybe I should try that. Less work. [Laughs] Yeah, alright, flush your “exclusive access” privilege right down the toilet.

But, look, I’m not disparaging the fans wholesale. That’d be unfair. And, ouch, ungrateful? Yeah. The initial couple years were fucking insane, but I was with people I liked, and a lot of the fans we actually met were … Normal? Uh huh. Not a hysterical, handsy, screaming blob. You got grabbed? Groped, Pat. Oh boy. We don’t like grabass, I guess. Well, hold on now, just not like that—You keep sidetracking me. What kind of interviewer are you? I’m having fun with my buddy! Sue me. [Chuckles] You got it, baby. What was I saying? The fans? Yeah. The ones we met one-on-one were cool, usually. They had deep thoughts about the show, you know? Ideas about the characters, the plots—filled in holes in the shitty writing. No offense to Jack and Reuben, I hope! Don’t print that, Pat.

If I’m being honest, having to answer their questions made me think deeply about the role. That’s stayed with me. I don’t like being walked up on in public, but sometimes it’d go fine. The first time someone came up to me in the wild, her mother looked so fucking apologetic that I decided, “Cool it, don’t be a jackass.” She wanted to talk about the book I was buying. Same thing would happen to Frank, Perry, Vicky. How about the show itself? That was a three year commitment.

It was alright. In retrospect, I understand that television isn’t for respectable actors, which made the transition hard. Harder to have been on a show for teenagers. But, you made that switch in Uspana. So, did that play into the calculus at all? I lucked out, in the sense that the show was co-produced, and I got to do the dubbing for the Uspanian version. I wasn’t a total unknown, even if they thought my Uspanian was shitty. Is it? Losing an accent is hard, in my defense.

When my contract ended, I hit the road. You didn’t think about staying on? I thought about it with horror, yes. [Laughs] You’d keep shit-talking the whole production if I let you. Maybe. So, in Uspana? It was like exhaling for the first time in a while. I did nothing for a couple months. All that hard work, being a beloved TV star … Throw me a bone, Pat. But, anyway, I didn’t even see my mom’s family again for a few weeks—You knew them, though? Yeah, we’d met, during the press trips. Beach life by yourself. Luxury.

You know, I needed to reconnect with myself. That’s how I felt. I felt like I had been an imposter, then I felt like I had to be someone I wasn’t, and now … You could go a different way. A fork in the road, for your career. Your life, really. Right, yeah. I went to Canarís like any good tourist. I had more money than I’d ever had in my life. I had no plans. Sounds like a dream. It was.

Crucially, I was out of my mind most of the time. Kite high. So fucking high. I swear I almost drowned twice, at which point it was politely suggested that I stop using the pool. Did you politely agree? Fuck no. [Laughs] Troublemaking aside, I ended up taking phone calls, making plans with people—Industry people? Yeah. There were people I knew already, but meeting the ones I really wanted to work with happened kind of organically—parties, premieres for other films, cafes. At the Morningstar Cafe in Canarís? Right, exactly. Same way I ended up finding The Den. Someone at the cafe had worked with Karolina Teague, and she took me there one evening after we all got tossed out of some poor son of a bitch’s house. Sounds rowdy. Can’t blame him. It was after midnight. And? Well, it was a lunch that’d started at eleven in the morning, so. [Chuckles]

So, I have a question. You’re pretty consistent—in terms of behavior. “Behavior?” [Snorts] Yeah, okay, I understand. What was that like, with cameras on you? The photographers in Uspana definitely aren’t less aggressive. That’s part of it. I don’t know if I’d call it an epiphany, but I left Canarís for Nakawe with the understanding that I was going to just do what I wanted to do. Oh boy. Within reason, fuck. Reason. Sure, yes. You didn’t feel like a dumb kid anymore. I mean, I guess I have more fun with the camera guys here. They can get away with more, ergo, so can we.

I distinctly recall you got arrested for—I barely touched that guy or his fucking camera. Did him a favor, if I did. Dogshit quality device. [Chuckles] Not sure he saw it that way, but the charges were dropped. I mean, don’t get me wrong, shouldn’t have reacted that way. I kept thinking about my mom seeing those pictures … The one time I got picked up, she backhanded me in the middle of the station, right in front of the cops. Jesus. In the car, she goes, “If you get caught again, I’m going to rip your ears off.” Empty threat, I guess.

The Den—I want to talk about that. Please, let’s. Your first time there? It was with Karolina, like I said, and there was a local band playing that night. They’d wrapped up their set by the time we arrived and were just … jamming on the stage, taking feedback and requests from the people who were still there. Some kind of funky jazz mash-up. I liked it. How did it come to you? It opened in ‘57 as a bar and, at some point, it turned into more of a music venue open to a certain segment of Nakawe. The guy who owned it gave exposure to a lot of people who went on to really do something with their art, and that’s why it ended up being a somewhat exclusive spot. Celebrities already knew it and brought their friends. Uh huh. I could stroll up, and the cameras weren’t with me because they were already there. He got tired of that, I think—He was an older fella, right? Yeah. But, really, he managed other properties, and The Den wasn’t his passion project the way it’s become for me. So, you had the money and took it off his hands.

What goes on in there? [Laughs] Pat, you’ve been inside. Well, not for me! If I’m going to describe it to people who’ll never go inside, what would I say? I mean, it’s a hangout spot. It’s a performance venue. We had, uh, mimes last month. Truly gifted, those people. [Laughs] Really? I don’t come up with all of the ideas myself, but I only agree to the shit I’m interested in. It’s kind of selfish, but I guess I’m lucky to know a lot of people who’ll toss in five dollars to enjoy it. It’s something. Compelling. I mean it. Thanks. That’s not all, though. I mean, you describe it as a “haven.” It’s very private. Some of your regulars are troubled individuals. Damn, Patricia, just say it. I feel like a cop! “Do you condone drug use in your establishment?” nonsense. But, well … I’m not explaining it. Either you—they, whoever the hell—get it or don’t. Come for the music, come to unwind however you like, doesn’t fucking matter to me as long as you’re coming with an invitation. I like to go in the back room, close the door, let the music and noise seep through. Muffled. You don’t really strike me as a partier, frankly. You never have. I wouldn’t argue with that. I like parties, but I don’t need to be at the center. Some do. That’s fine. This place is for us all.

Maybe it works out because of that, that you’re curating this space but not necessarily always in it? What do you mean? Well, you reopened it and then, if memory serves, immediately went off to do a film. The party kept going. You just like to know it’s happening. Alright, sure. That’s true. Knowing it’s there … Yeah. I like it. I was in that back room, thinking about the script, when I decided to do it, actually. Life felt like it was falling into place. It was a good time to take a leap. “’You are going to be a cowboy?’” “’No, I’m going to be a farmer.’” I had that conversation a thousand times. Reporters, man. Hey! Everyone was so surprised. I think they thought the premise was … I don’t know, that it just wasn’t something I would want to do? Or, worse, that the filmmakers wouldn’t want to work with someone like me? Unflattering assumptions, sounds like. Can’t blame them. I had a lot to prove. Still do.

How was six weeks in Texict? Fucking heaven. I loved it. My mother’s from the northwest so, even when I visited family, it wasn’t anywhere close. No reason to visit until we dropped in to do the film. Every day, I woke up happy to be alive. Happy to be doing this job. Gorgeous. I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it wasn’t just the location, was it?

No, you’re right. I felt like I was really acting—for the first time, seriously. Maybe the cast helped? I’d worked with established actors before. The leads in Sugar Sweet were—well, you know who they were. I learned a ton from them. But, yeah, I guess Sasha was the first person I’d worked alongside who had me sweating. Oh? I wanted to impress her so fucking badly. I wanted to keep up, you know? So talented. So raw. She rips every line out of her chest with her bare hands. Bloodbath of emotion. The premise was new, too. Not a lighthearted romance this time. No. We were young parents of a ill child—stressed as fuck, trying to make life work, struggling separately to be together. Can’t lie, I ate that shit up. So did the critics. Hell yeah.

Every nomination felt surreal. The recognition was incredible. Validating. Sasha and some of the others swept up. I was just honored to be up there with them, honestly. Okay, well, let’s talk about Sasha. Do we have to? Yes. Indulge me! [Grumbling] I mean, all I can really say at this point is that I was obsessed, and it wasn’t until it was over that I had the clarity of mind to really wonder, hm, “Was I in love with Sasha, my coworker, or was I in love with Sasha playing Lucy, my wife?” That seems like an occupational hazard. I wouldn’t describe it that way. You take sensitive, delusional, beautiful people, pay them to get vulnerable and intimate with each other … It’s special, even if it’s … Not genuine? No, it is that. It’s not real, but it is genuine. How else can you say, “Well, our schedules don’t line up anymore, but I’ll have this scar of our initials forever?” You do not! No, I don’t. The letter S is really hard to cut without fucking up. Not a sober man’s idea. No.

Since I have you on the topic—hey, no, absolutely not—I’m obligated to ask if there’s anyone in your life right now. How’s that? Women’s magazines can snap this up and stitch it together for themselves. This is a public service. Patricia … Yes, Lorencio?

Look, I know you do your research. I do. I’m very good at it, too. What’s that like, princess pus—Pat. Pat, I’m begging you—Are you obsessed? The letter L is easier, I bet. It is. Would you go with another L or an R?

I’m not talking about this—not for you to print, anyway. Well, talk to me as a friend, then? I’m not just professionally nosy. We’re friends? Who else calls me Pat and gets away with it? You haven’t been Trish in a long time, it’s true … [Sighs] Fuck. Someone can be precious, right? Lovable. You can hold them in your hands and think, “This person matters to me. They’re special. I like to be around them; I like to listen to them; I want their affection.” You can really, genuinely cherish someone.

But? Maybe you find their life to be completely fucking repellent. Unbearable. … Damn.

There’s parallels, though, right? I mean, fame is fame, there’s got to be value in relatability, and—There’s an open mic going on downstairs in the hotel bar right this minute. Let’s take a break, Pat, what do you say? Let’s just go watch some of it. I’ll let you print dick measurements and my deepest, darkest secrets if you say yes. [Laughs] Well, if that’s on the table—

#just gonna toss in a cw #cw drugs #long post #ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e04

86 notes · View notes

lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer · 1 day

Text

Haunted

“You remind me of a man I used to know.”

I was watching the embers in the fire die, and the thought just came, out loud. The Ghoul chewed an unknown meat off the stick he’d skewered it on, not looking up to dignify my statement with even so much as a grunt. Maybe not then, I thought sadly. Maybe all the men like Cooper had died when the bombs dropped. I certainly hadn’t met a man like him since we’d said goodbye to each other at that party. Still, I continued.

“He was a lot friendlier than you – though I suppose actors are predisposed to high levels of charisma.” I smiled to myself from behind the handkerchief covering my face, thinking of how simple the past now seemed in comparison to the present.

“Actor?” It was first word I’d heard him speak since he told me to put out the fire that had cooked our dinner and it brought me from my daydream of my old life.

“Yeah, actor. One of the good ones, most of the time anyway.” I chuckled to myself, remembering the tantrums he used to have on set if something wasn’t entirely accurate.

“How would you have known an actor?”

“Well, if you must know, I was-”

I was cut off by a knife flying past my face and narrowly missing my eye, and then there was a body on top of mine, all flailing limbs and trying to stab me, grabbing a hold of my neck and head to hold me down. I grabbed the pocket knife hidden in my coat and wounded my attacker, before rolling the both of us over and pushing his face into the dying ashes. Their screams echoed out against the darkness of the wasteland, and I heard several gunshots. I took my pistol from my belt and shot whoever had tried to jump me in the back of his skull, letting him fall limply beside me.

I look up through the dying light to see the Ghoul surveying our surroundings, before looking down at me and I realised with horror I didn’t have the handkerchief covering my face anymore.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rosie Ryder,” he let out an audible laugh, “What are you doin’ out in the Wasteland?”

My face went bright red, and I huffed.

“Even after the apocalypse, people still just know me as the girl who played the hooker that got her titties out for Cooper Howard,” I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I’ve done other movies, you know.”

“Yeah, you were great in Under the Covers,” he chuckled again, “although for you that film must have mostly been about shooting all that kissin’ you did to the poor bloke. I bet his lips were chapped at the end of every day!”

“You a fan of Cooper Howard?” I asked, looking him up and down, “this get-up of yours seems pretty inspired by his work.”

“You could say that, Little Miss Ryder.”

I laughed bitterly and gestured down at the three bodies around us.

“We should probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight, in case anyone heard the gunshots.”

I checked the pockets of the bodies but couldn’t find anything other than a couple of caps and a gun with some ammo still left in it.

“No chems?” he asked, and I shook my head.

“No chems.”

***

As we continued in our direction, the Ghoul became more talkative.

“So, if you were Little Miss Rosie Ryder, you must be at least two hundred and something years old,” he began, “So how are you here right now?”

I shrugged.

“It’s a long, long story. We don’t got that much time, Ghoulie.”

Eventually we came across a shabby-looking shack that looked just about safe enough for the night and might potentially keep us safe from any radstorm that might decide to descend onto us. And maybe from any raiders, too.

The Ghoul went in first, checking the inside whilst I set a bear trap up in front of the door, before following him inside. It seemed as if someone might have been living here for a bit – there was a sofa and a little table, as well as a small counter with what looked like to be a broken-down hob. No signs of life anymore, though. Everything had a thick layer of dust coating it, and any essentials seem to have been hastily removed when the last occupier had left.

“The walls seem pretty sturdy and the roof’s secure,” he said, “did you put a bear trap outside the door?”

“Yeah, don’t wanna take the risk we did earlier.” I sighed. “Still, can’t help but think we’re still sitting ducks if someone breaks in. We’re not exactly in the safest area – I know at least two Raider groups who have bases nearby.”

“They’ll break in and come face to face with my pistol aimed at their skulls, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I’m ‘sweetheart’ now, am I? Now that you know what I look like under all these clothes?”

The Ghoul stepped closer to me, the shadow of his hat towering over me.

“Maybe I jus’ appreciate those actin’ skills of yours,” he murmured, “on top of that fine figure.” He stepped back from me and sat down on the sofa, slouching.

“I’ll take first watch, Little Miss Rosie. I’ll wake you in a few hours and when the light comes, we’ll continue, and you can tell me that long, long story of yours.”

***

Susie Wellington was coiffuring my hair for my first scene, as I sat tugging on my cotton skirt trying to psyche myself up for the scene ahead. We’d rehearsed it a bunch of times in table reads but this was the real thing – closed set and all.

“Susie, I think the leading lady’s hair’s done up enough for now,” came a voice from the corner, “and you should be making your way back to the dressing rooms. I’m sure Little Miss Rosie Ryder here doesn’t want another cast member staring at her tits.”

I looked up in relief as Cooper appeared beside us, cigarette in hand. Susie didn’t look to happy about having to leave her creation as it was, but only pursed her lips and bid me goodbye.

“You excited for your first scene, Little Miss Rosie?” he asked, and I felt a strange sense of deja vu come over me at his words. I ignored it and put a shaky smile on my face.

“I’m excited to get the nudity outta the way, that’s all I’m gonna say!” I giggled a bit, and he laughed alongside me.

“Well, there’ll be a barrier in place of everythin’ and that dress of yours ain’t comin’ off completely. Gotta keep them perverts on their toes.” He winked at me, and I tried to keep the smile on my face, but under it all, I felt as if this was very dangerous.

As he kissed me softly in front of the cameras and rolled his eyes playfully as the director asked him to push my dress up to show more of my skin, I felt something lurking in the shadows. Once this was shot, there was no going back and for some reason, I felt completely doomed.

***

I woke up with a start, flinging my body forward. From the sofa, the Ghoul shushed me, holding a gloved finger over my mouth.

I could hear something outside, and I assumed that was what woke me up. It was a strange sound, of someone dragging their feet through the dirt and the mud. We sat there in silence for a full half an hour, until the dragging sound moved away from the hut and back out into the darkness.

“You mind takin’ the next watch, Sweetheart?” he said, “I need to get a couple hours kip in before we set off tomorrow.”

“Sure,” I say tentatively, pulling out my pistol. “I’m glad you finally trust me.”

“Well, I’m a huge fan.” He laid heavy emphasis on the ‘huge’, winking at me through the dusk light. I rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a little proud for some stupid goddamn reason.

Back when I started acting, I didn’t think I’d have any living fans – never mind a half-dead irradiated man from 200 years in the future. Is he half-dead? It’d never been explained to me at the brothel – I’d just done my service and taken the RadAway. None of the others had ever stuck around to tell me their life story.

We switched places, I sat myself down on the sofa and the Ghoul lay down on the bedroll on the floor.

“Damn, this shit is fuckin’ uncomfortable.” I heard him say, and I let out a laugh under my bed.

“I didn’t complain,” I whispered, and he made a grunting noise. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be an insult or not, but I just chuckled quietly and pulled out my pistol, aimed at the door ready for anyone who tried to force their way through.

The sun rose quickly after that, and by the light of the sky, I was able to get a better look at the Ghoul’s sleeping face. There was something so familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I decided it was the cowboy look – it reminded me of the niche I’d almost fallen into after my three-month contract with Cooper’s team. The audience had loved our chemistry on screen in The Man from Deadhorse, and the studios knew they’d get a lot more money if we came as a package deal – so we shot Under the Covers, City of Starlight and Valley of the Gun together. It took me back to the last film I’d shot, the one I hadn’t finished shooting.

I looked down at my clothes – the same clothes I’d been wearing 200 years ago on set. The ‘Western Hooker’ dress, of which there had originally been five different versions. The hat, which I’d stolen from my co-worker as a joke, but had still been on my head when we’d been told to start running. For a moment, I could still smell the food that they’d made us on set. I could still smell the horse manure, and the flashing of lights.

I looked back at the Ghoul, awake now, and almost came to a realisation.

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout tv series #fallout show #walton goggins

70 notes · View notes

lichenes · 2 days

Text

"Emo boy..."

Little something to get me back into writing... Feel free to send me asks! Enjoy :D

CW: kinda mutual pining, mischaracterisation probably (.-.), it'll get better in part two if you guys want it :D, SFW wc: 699

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____

He entered your little shop, looking incredibly strange amongst the cornflowers and alliums you were displaying. "Mornin'! How can I help you?" You asked cheerily, way too happy for the hour that was shown on the clock just behind you.

König had just recently retired. He loved the military life, truly the only thing he could say he deeply and passionately loved. Taught to always sleep with one eye open, he wasn’t adjusting to civilian life very well.

‘The quickest way to brighten up your house is to decorate it with flowers!’ He heard from the overzealous neighbour, truly delighted to meet him (and afraid for the safety of her and her kids, obviously). Immediately, he looked up a flower shop near him. Not being allowed to keep more than a flip phone on himself, he wasn’t used to the freedom internet gave.

The next day, he got up bright and early to avoid people as much as he could. König was hoping for his visit to escape everyone's attention. Admittedly it was difficult, with his overbearing frame, towering over nearly every person he stumbled upon.

You weren’t fully conscious yet, having woken up less than an hour ago. Running your own business could be quite a feat, especially with alarm clocks which don’t work quite well. Your hair was a bit dishevelled but you were hoping to fix it around your lunch break.

He was staring. You noticed something was off about him but you just waited politely for him to ask you for whatever it was he was here for. In the gentlest voice he could muster he asked. “What do you have that would brighten up a house?” He used the same phrase as the neighbour, her name not quite cemented in his brain. You were taken aback for just a quick moment but slipped back into your customer service voice.

You went on about the types that would suit any home, and he listened intently, opting to go for daffodils. König paid for his bouquet and thanked you. While you were wrapping the flowers you tried to make polite conversation. “Did the missus send you here?” He looked around, chuckling nervously. “No, no, I needed something to get me out of the house you know?” That was an obvious lie, but you didn’t question him further.

The next time he showed up at your shop, you recognised him as that window shopping, huge guy who usually walked past your shop, gracing it with a fleeting glance. “Hello! What can I help you with?” For a guy his size, he sure knew how to make himself look small. You weren’t quite sure what he wanted with you, but your ego didn’t allow for you to think all this was about you.

He scared you a little, but you’d never admit that. His anxious demeanor of a lost puppy was neutralising his terrifying presence pretty effectively. “Sorry to bother but-” You waved your hand as if to say ‘not a bother’. “There's this person I’m trying to thank…” He went on about their personality, gushing at how inviting their presence was. You were drinking it up like fine wine, becoming more and more interested in him by the minute.

“She’s my neighbour actually! So I was hoping to repay her for giving me the idea and buying her flowers.” He blushed a little. Not that you would notice under the face mask he was wearing. “I need to ask, flowers do have meaning after all.” You tried to explain yourself, not wanting to seem too intrusive. “Is it supposed to be a friendly bouquet or a let’s-go-on-a-date kinda thing?”

He waved his arms in front of his chest. “It’s nothing like that!!” You smiled at his antics as he added. “I’ve got my eyes on someone else…” Your cheeks, suddenly, felt hotter than they should’ve for the conversation you were supposedly having.

He got out with the bouquet you suggested and thanked you profusely. König didn’t even give you his name, and you could already feel being smitten by the cruel, cruel gods of love. God damnit, you were hoping to see him soon.

pt. 2?

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____ masterlist

#x reader #writing #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #cod #cod x reader #fluff #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig mw2

70 notes · View notes

sleepanonymous · 2 days

Text

Okay so. I have so many people to respond to and I promise I will, just not tonight. I wanted to give a quick update about the ritual below the cut (because I know some people like going in not knowing the setlist.) Again, typing this all on my phone so my apologies for heavy typos and any incoherence.

As a preface I just got back to my hotel, showered quickly, absolutely fucking sobbed in the shower for like two minutes, and I’m now eating uncle ben’s ready rice straight out of the bag because I don't have a fork or spoon. If that doesn’t scream hot mess idk what would.

First things first: the security/staff at Arizona Financial Theatre are all amazing. Literal fucking angels. Two of them hung out with us in line all day, letting us go inside to use the bathroom and refill water bottles and the guys at the barricade were so friendly and chatty and also handed out water. Literally everyone was so helpful and friendly and nice and they deserve all the good things in life.

Second: Empire State Bastard really wasn’t clicking with me until I saw them live. They’re an absolute vibe live plus the drummer and bassist are both babes. The band were constantly thanking us for showing up early and listening to them (tbh the venue was only half full until about 10 minutes before Sleep Token went on). Literally seemed like such humble and chill dudes.

Third!!! I almost don’t even know what to say about Sleep Token. There’s sooo much I could literally rant for hours but I also need to sleep so I can drive to Albuquerque in the morning. I recorded 5ish songs I think? Mostly the TPWBYT songs but I did get the summoning too. No idea if the footage is any good but we’ll see tomorrow. I made it a point not to have my phone out after finding out the setlist because there was no way in hell I was missing TNDNBTG live while on barricade. Maybe I should preface this next bit with I one hundred thousand present realize this sounds delusional of me, but everyone on the barricade had their phones out and Vessel fucking focused on me because of it. He was singing one of my favorite sleep token songs directly to me! There’s literally nowhere else he could have been looking! he was on the edge of the stage looking straight down at me and we were pointing at each other and I’m fucking dying reliving it because I was singing so horribly and cringy back at him. Like I’m so sorry vessel but my life was changing in that moment. I became a new woman the second you pointed at me.

I kept my phone away for the first several songs tbh and he kept coming back to stand in front of me but never made such heavy eye/mask contact (until Euclid). I actually almost feel like I disappointed him when I did pull my phone out to start recording because he practically avoided me after that. its actually why I decided not to record Euclid, though I knew it was coming and it was the song’s debut. AND IT FUCKING WORKED!! He came back around and was singing to me again, same stance, same obvious eye contact except this time I was literally Ugly Crying™️ at him. Tears were streaming, I had one hand holding onto the barricade for dear life, and the other clamped tightly around my mouth ugly crying. Even my buddies and the security were concerned that’s how bad it was.

In all honesty I can’t pretend that it wasn’t “scripted” like the band hadn’t planned every move on stage beforehand. They first and foremost are performers and Vessel literally sings to every girl on the barricade right in front of him. But it also felt so special and I feel so bad for breaking down like I did 😅🤣😭😫🫠

Okay I need to stop ranting, I’ve been up for 20 hours and this is most likely incoherent anyway. I love all of you and I hope everyone who’s able to get barricade this tour gets to experience the same thing I did🖤🖤🖤

#sleep token #teeth of god tour #sleepanon rant #<- fully delusional version

67 notes · View notes

rebeliz7 · 4 hours

Text

The Transporter

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Count: 2262

…

You were screwed.

You had two rules, two unbreakable rules. Two rules that have allowed you to survive for as long as you have in your line of work.

The first one was to never ask any unnecessary questions. Your job was simple. You transported packages, no matter what it was, no matter how far you had to go or how long it’d take you to get it to its destination.

You’ve gained quite a reputation because of that first rule, and you were never short on job offers because of it. People valued your work policy, because they valued their privacy.

You were, what the kids would call these days, a delivery person and that was the essence of what you did, only you mobilized very expensive and more often than not dangerous packages.

Your clients--were not good people, but that was not your problem. Of course you suspected it but to be quite honest, you never expected to be caught by the Avengers on your way back home after a well done job.

Long story short, they did catch you and they dropped you in a dark cell for months, and that was alright, you weren’t afraid because you didn’t know anything besides the addresses where you dropped off your packages.

You knew nothing about the packages you delivered, you never peaked and the only question that always interested you when a new job came along was, where do I take it?

“You ready to talk?” The Captain asks from across the table, and you grin at her. They’ve been doing this everyday for the last couple of months.

Each morning you’re taken to an interrogation room, where a new avenger is always waiting for you.

“What do you want to talk about today, love?” You ask her, and she pins you down with a hard stare.

This one lacks patience, but after months of answering the same questions with the truth and nothing but the truth, you do try to spice things up a bit every once and awhile. If only to keep yourself sharp.

“You do realize that you’re never getting out of here if you don’t give us something, right?” She asks, and you lean back to rest against the back of the chair.

“What do you want to know?” You ask her, if only to keep the conversation flowing. Every answer that you could have provided, you already have and they must know it too.

“Who hired you to pick up the suitcase from the airport?”

Oh, the infamous suitcase!

You knew that job was way too easy to be a good thing. It took you an hour to get it done. Easiest and fastest two million you’ve ever made.

“I got a text. I told them my fee. I got a deposit and I asked where I needed to take the suitcase. I dropped the suitcase, and that was it.” You recite the same thing that you always recite, and she glares harder.

“You didn’t ask who was hiring you? Or why did they need the suitcase at that building?”

“Rule number one: Don’t ask questions that don’t concern me.” You tell her and her glare intensifies, if that’s even possible.

“You know that doesn’t erase the fact that you’re an accomplice in a terrorist attack, right?”

That damned suitcase.

“I offer a service. I deliver packages. That’s all I do. Would you call the pizza guy that delivered in the same building before me an accomplice too?”

Her fists glow with dangerous intensity then, and in the blink of an eye you find yourself being pushed against the wall after she hits you with a blast.

…

You wake up in your cell hours later with a massive headache and every inch of your body hurting, so you quickly close your eyes again.

You refuse to fully wake up when you’re in this much pain.

…

The next morning you’re awoken by the sound of your door being opened, and you sit up slowly. Your hand flies to your side as a stabbing pain makes you wince when you move, and you curse under your breath.

They’ve never laid a finger on you before, and you wonder if they’re finally about to try to beat the answers out of you, not that you have any.

“You pissed off the Captain.” A guard shakes his head, a mocking grin on his face as he looks at you. “Aren’t you tired? Just give them what they want.”

“Are you supposed to be talking to me?” You ask him, and he shrugs his shoulders before handing you a fresh towel and a change of clothes.

“Shower. You’re in for a new session in twenty.”

He leaves and with a lot of trouble, you do as he says.

…

The moment you enter the interrogation room you feel like you might pass out again, which reminds you of your second rule.

Rule number two: Never fall for someone involved in the deliveries. This rule applies, of course, to the Avengers who apprehended you too.

“You okay?” Wanda Maximoff asks, as an involuntary groan leaves your lips when you sit down.

You kind of like it when she’s the one in charge of your interrogation for the day, but today you feel like dying and not fully up to appreciate her company.

“Of course.” You smile, as you press your hand against your bruised ribs and you struggle to find a comfortable position to sit in. God, you feel like you’re not getting enough air into your lungs.

“What did Carol do?” She asks you with a frown on her forehead, and you try to smile again.

She’s attractive even when she’s frowning, which is totally unfair and completely distracting.

“Broke a few laws, I’m sure.” You can’t breathe properly and you swallow, if only to try to mask the pain you’re currently in.

“Does anything feel broken? Were you taken to medical?” She asks, as she stands up and you close your eyes.

“I don’t know.” You answer and when you try to move, the pain that envelops you is so massive that you become dizzy where you sit.

“Not even a painkiller.” You hear her murmur, before you stop fighting against so much pain and tiredness.

You fall to the ground, the hit making the pain you were already feeling a hundred times worse.

Wanda raises her voice and while she rushes to your side, you surrender to the darkness.

…

The next time you wake up, you do it in a slightier more comfortable bed than the one in your cell.

“I didn’t even touch her!” You hear the unmistakable voice of Carol Danvers yell, and you’re tempted to huff, but you know that would only make you cry out in pain. No, she didn’t need to touch you to almost break you.

“Her ribs are bruised. She passed out because of excruciating pain!” Wanda exclaims back, and you finally open your eyes.

You’re in the medical-bay and your eyes immediately fall on Wanda’s furious little face. Still attractive, that one.

“She’s a criminal,” Carol argues and you watch as Wanda’s fists begin to glow red with the midst of her powers.

“She’s a human being and you crossed a line.” Wanda tells her, and you’re caught staring at her face again.

She looks positively pissed, and you’re pretty sure that you’ve never seen a woman more beautiful than she is.

“I agree,” Steve Rogers says as he walks inside the room as well. “Did you notice she’s awake?” He asks, his eyes trained on you.

“Hey, hi.” You smile and Wanda rushes to your side, or you think that she does.

God! You feel so woozy and nothing really hurts, and you think that maybe you’re a little bit high on painkillers. Just maybe.

“How you feeling?” Wanda asks you and you look at her, and you can’t help but---but feel.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur and her eyes widen. “Really, you are.”

She blushes and her eyes show nothing but panic as she looks at Steve, who is smiling goofily before letting out a breath.

“Painkillers?” He asks, and Wanda nods.

“Maybe something to help her sleep?” Wanda asks the doctor in the room, and when a small smile pulls at the corners of her lips, you smile back.

So beautiful.

…

You wake up with a start and a sharpening pain on your side. You’re in a much different room than the last one. You’re not in your cell, and you’re not in the medical bay either.

No, this is a much nicer room with a big fluffy bed and a huge flat screen hanging on the wall.

You’re about to stand up when someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” you confusedly call out and the door opens slowly to reveal Wanda on the other side. “Hey.”

“Can I come in?” She asks and you nod, still confused. “You should be laying down. Minimal physical effort. Doctor’s orders.”

You nod, now feeling a little suspicious but you take her advice and lay down again. At least you can breathe a bit better now, and the pain isn’t as blinding as it was the last time you woke up.

“Care to explain?” You ask, as you struggle to grab the blanket.

“Here, let me.” She takes the blanket, and pulls it over your body before sitting down on the edge of the mattress, close to your legs.

She’s wearing an oversized light blue sweater that makes her look all kinds of comfy and you’re caught staring at her.

God! She really is the most adorable superhero ever. The most attractive one too.

“What Carol did was wrong,” she says and you roll your eyes playfully.

“I was being an ass. I shouldn’t have provoked her like that. ”

“She crossed a line. We don’t hit people in our interrogation rooms. We don’t torture prisoners. That’s not what we stand for.”

“I’ve been telling you guys the truth from the beginning. I know nothing about the packages I delivered. My lack of interest in the content of those packages is what kept me in business for so long in the first place.”

“I know,” she says it so casually that you instantly become suspicious. “We don’t make it a habit of reading people’s minds either. That being said, I did read yours yesterday when you were unconscious.”

You chuckle nervously, and immediately wince at the slight pain that it shoots through you with the action. If she was in your head---then she knows you’ve been crushing on her for a while now.

“I only did it because an idea occurred to us and we needed to be sure that you were telling the truth, before we did anything.”

“They call you the Scarlet Witch, y’know?” You tell her, and she grins at you.

You’re distracted, your mind is still trying to process the fact that she read your mind and she probably knows every single thing about you, and your attraction towards her.

“I know,” she softly says and your eyes stray towards her lips. God! It’s so unfair how attractive she is and how easily she can distract you with just her face.

“Natasha has been studying your profile,” she continues. “You do more than just deliver.”

“Natasha Romanoff?” You ask with a start, and she nods. “She’s been studying my profile?”

Natasha Romanoff is a legend, to put it simply, but she never interrogated you. Not once.

You’ve admired her since forever, and every single fighting stance that you’ve mastered, you’ve done it because you spent the majority of your free time studying footage of her fights caught on camera.

“She’s impressed,” Wanda tells you. “She believes that you have potential, and so do I.”

Sometimes trouble follows you and the packages, that’s why you’re always prepared, that’s why you know how to stand you own in a fight.

“Are you offering me a job?” You ask her jokingly but she doesn’t laugh, instead she gives you a look that leaves you breathless. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“I was a prisoner yesterday.” You remind her and she nods, an open and stupidly alluring grin tugging at her lips.

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I’ve been in your head, remember?” She tells you, and you feel your cheeks heating up with a blush.

“That’s a total violation, y’know?”

“It is and I’m sorry for doing it.” She apologizes, and you frown.

She’s good. Too good.

“So you know about my deep desire to quit the delivering world, and join the side of good?”

“I do.” She nods, perhaps amused.

“And you also know that I’ve been crushing on you since the day we met?”

“About that,” she apologetically starts and you panic.

“What?”

“You were really high on painkillers, and you might have exposed yourself about that in front of the Captains.”

“What?” You panic and when you rush to move, the pain shooting through you forces you to lay down again.

“Easy,” she tells you kindly. “For now you just have to focus on getting better. Carol will drop by to apologize. For the record, she was not having a good day that day.”

“Neither were my ribs,” you tell her and she laughs.

“There will be a meeting when you can leave this bed. A new life awaits you.”

“About the crushing thing?” You ask when she stands up to leave, and the smile she sends your way makes you smile in a daze, because she’s just so beautiful.

“We can talk about that too when you’re feeling better.”

You’re still smiling after she’s gone. You only had two rules to do your job, and the first one might have ended up saving you from a lifetime in prison, but the second one? You never stood a chance against the second one.

…

Feedback is much appreciated.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff

72 notes · View notes

tiredfox64 · 1 day

Note

Hey! Can I request Bi-han and Tomas (separately) with a fem! reader who is a little taller than them? Preferably an established relationship.

They can be HCS, drabbles, whatever you feel most comfortable with if you want to do it.

Thank you in advance and I really enjoy your blog, it is very entertaining 🧚‍♀️ 🫶

Well, Ain’t You a Tall One

Prior notes: I did my best but mind you I’m someone who lies about being 5’4 because I’m not allowed to have that quarter of an inch added on to actually make me 5’4.

Pairings: Bi-Han x Tall! Afab reader, Tomas x Tall! Afab reader

Bi-Han (he might be 6’2 idk)

If you’re gonna talk to Bi-Han do it at a distance so he doesn’t have to look up at you.

*Ah geez something is out of reach for him. Oh what’s he gonna do-HEY! HEY! FUCK IS YOU DOIN TRYIN TO REACH FOR THAT OBJECT HE NEEDS.

Baby, you asked for it. You left yourself open he punched you I don’t make the rules. It was gentle at least.

Be a good girlfriend and pick him up so he can grab it himself. Don’t make him look like a fool in front of his clan. (He’ll allow it just look at the evidence I provided below)

If anyone disrespects your height Bi-Han will punish them. They wanna make fun of how tall you are well he will just stick their head to a large icicle. How bout that, how bout them apples.

You know what makes him feel like a man? Picking you up. Just because you’re a little taller doesn’t make a difference. He’s the man in this relationship.

He knows that people are staring at you because you are taller at him but he still gets upset that people are looking. You are his everyone should understand that.

Please, please, PLEASE, if someone ask you “how’s the weather up there” please say “it’s raining” and spit on them. Bi-Han will find it entertaining and even praise you for it.

No heels! Even on your wedding day. Any shoes that give more height are not allowed on your feet.

If one of his Lin Kuei assassins aren’t listening well he tells you to go up behind them and smack their heads as punishment. You won’t get punished and the assassin can’t smack you back. It’s funny don’t worry.

Bi-Han won’t tell you this but he is impressed by your height. Every woman he has encountered was shorter than him. You are a rare gem.

Tomas (I think he is 6’4 right?)

If he could he would wear a ‘I ❤️ my tall girlfriend’ shirt.

He is absolutely amazed by you. He has never seen a woman this tall before.

It’s a flex really, you are one of a kind.

May someone help the son of a bitch who insults your height cause Tomas will kick the fuck out of their back and bedrid them for five days

When he first met you he commented on how tall you were and you called him a baked bean for that. You thought he was being mean.

He really likes to show you off. Any chance he gets where he can take you out he will do so.

Do you mind being the big spoon? Just for him pleeeeeeeeease.

You have the perfect opportunity to give him forehead kisses. Do it, it will make Tomas happy :)

You wanna wear heels? Go for it! He wants you to feel confident and powerful in them.

Oh now he’s the one taking your hoodie and keeping it for himself. No givesies backsies.

Did he ever tell you how much he loves you? Bring your face a little closer so he can give you a kiss.

After notes: I’m sorry if this isn’t my best work. I knew a guy back in high school who was 6’7. That man is in the Air Force now serving this country RAAAAH 🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆…I have to sneeze now. Adiós!

59 notes · View notes

foxaftershocks · 1 day

Note

Hi! I love all your fics for Lars and I saw you were asking for prompts and I was wondering if you could do an x reader one where they are dating but no one really knows yet and they get caught kissing in the lab?? Thank you!

I really enjoyed this one so I hope you do too!

You looked up, glancing over the top of your computer’s screen. Taking a moment to look at the man sitting across from you, a secret smile passed over your lips. Lars’ eyes flicked up, finding yours, and answering smile already pulling up the corners of his mouth. You winked, enjoying the slight flush that rose in his cheeks.

As if in agreement, you both looked back to your own work. Under the bench, his foot brushed yours, knocking against it. The toes of your shoe nudged his shin resting there just long enough to ensure he felt it. One of his legs hooked around yours, entwining them together as his fingers continued to tap at his keyboard.

“Did you log that guy we brought in yesterday?”

You blinked, not realising Gary had managed to sneak up on you. Not that you thought he’d been trying to. Sometimes you felt so caught up in Lars that the rest of the world didn’t exist. He didn’t even bother looking up at he answered.

“Of course.”

Gary’s grin was still firm as he looked between the both of you. You offered him your own smile in return, knowing you were automatically the friendlier of the two. Lars’ sarcasm could push people away. You were a soothing balm when he stung.

“How can you stand being around this guy all the time?” he asked and you hoped his smile meant he was joking.

“Aw, he’s not so bad.” Blue eyes glanced up to you before going back to the screen, “he’s been known to crack a smile on occasion.”

“No way,” Gary said, leaning towards you, one arm braced on the bench.

“He’s even given me a compliment before,” you said, almost conspiratorially.

You didn’t feel the need to mention that one such compliment had come that morning with his arms wrapped around you, soft sheets encasing your body. No one had to know exactly how not bad you found the man sitting across from you. Or rather, no one needed to know exactly how much you liked him.

“Well, now I know you’re lying,” Gary said.

You laughed. A foot nudged you under the table and you scrunched your nose up at the man across from you. His glare was playful and you knew he wasn’t taken it personally. Especially when you would be soothing any wounds the moment you got him alone.

“Did you need something?” he asked, sounding like he wanted Gary to leave now.

“Just curious to see what you know about that little guy,” he said, “Phoebe said something about tests?”

“You haven’t given us time to run any tests,” he replied.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

The look Lars shot him was answer enough. You pressed your lips together, trying to keep your smile from showing. His reputation for grumpiness was well earned.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Gary said, turning to look at you again, “that guy Dan wanted me to give you his number.”

Lars froze in your peripheral vision and his foot shot out, brushing against your calf, hooking around it. You gave a forced smile to Gary.

“Thanks but I’m not really interested,” you replied.

“Go on, just take it. It’s not like you can meet people down here,” he said.

You refused to look at Lars. His foot was still hooked around your leg and you let him tug it forward. Pushing some hair behind your ear, you shook your head.

“Honestly, I’m fine. I don’t want it,” you said.

“You hoping one of these nerds will take you out some time?” he asked.

“Never say never,” you replied with a small shrug, “even Lars might surprise you.”

Gary considered him for a moment, assessing while he was ignored by the man in question.

“Nah,” he said, “no chance.”

You kept your thoughts to yourself, meeting Lars’ eye again. There was a twinkle there, buried in the blue. You loved that look, the one that said he was a smug bastard, the cat that got the cream. And in this instance, you were the cream.

“Unless you’re here to help, which I doubt, please leave so we can get back to work,” Lars said, even though he was still looking at you.

“So Dan’s number?” he said to you.

“I’m still sticking with no,” you replied.

“Your loss,” he said with a small shrug, “let me know when you now more about the lil guy.”

You waved him off. Lars’ snort of derision was not subtle. The smile you offered him was soft, fond, speaking of how well you knew him. If anyone had been around to see it wouldn’t have been subtle. You wanted to reach over and touch him.

“You sure you don’t want to call up Dan? Organise a date?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained on his work.

“Is that jealousy I detect?” you replied.

“Can’t wait for one of us nerds to surprise you,” he said.

“No, I can’t. So it’s good I don’t have to.”

His foot was still hooked around your calf and you kicked out, tapping against his other shin. Blue eyes darted up to you and he softened at whatever he saw on your face. He looked away again and you knew it was because he wanted to kiss you. There was something so powerful about that look.

“I’m happy to tell people whenever you are,” you said, “you’re the only person I want.”

“Clearly no one will believe us if we say anything,” he said.

“Hey.”

He glanced back to you. The frustration was clear and you wanted to make it better. You always wanted to make it better.

“Who cares if they believe us? We know the truth and I’m happy to stop hiding it,” you said.

“Yeah well, you’re the one everyone will be questioning. No one believes anyone would want to be with me,” he said.

“That’s not true. Nadeem literally tries to set you up every chance he gets,” you replied, “maybe I’m the one who’s jealous. Maybe I don’t want other people thinking they have a chance.”

He considered you for a moment.

“They’re all going to think you’re mad for being with me,” he said.

“Then throw me in the asylum because you’re all I want,” you said. He paused a moment, considering you.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, looking back to his work, “this isn’t a no.”

Slipping back into silence, it was easy to let your feet rest against his under the table. Even while working separately, the connection was nice, a reminder than you were still there together.

“Can you look at this?” he asked after a few hours, “it’s not making a lick of sense.”

“Well, no one said you were the brightest bulb in the bunch,” you replied, hopping of your stool.

His fingers pinched your hip when you got close enough and your yelp was quickly stifled by laughter. His answering chuckle was warm in your ear, arm curling around your waist to bring you close again. Your own arm slid along his shoulders as you settled beside him.

“Alright, what bit isn’t making sense?” you asked.

He traced along a graph on the screen, a spike in the middle seemingly coming from no where. You lent towards it, trying to understand what you were seeing.

“Two spikes of energy,” you said.

“During routine monitoring. No stimuli,” he said.

“Check the security footage?” you suggested.

“Nothing there,” he said.

“Concerning,” you said.

“Indeed.”

You turned your head, looking at him for a moment. His eyebrows had drawn together in frustration and his lips were pursed as he tried to work out the problem. You looked back, trying to help.

“That’s the time down there?” you asked, pointing to the x-axis.

“Obviously,” he said.

You squinted at the numbers then chuckled.

“What?” he asked.

“You really don’t notice it?” you asked.

“Notice what?”

You pointed at the time on the bottom, right where the spike of energy came from. He lent closer, cheek brushing your arm.

“This is for the possessor, right?” you asked.

“Why do I feel like you’re asking questions you know the answer to?”

He looked up at you and you found your nose scrunching at him. His easy smile was beautiful, distracting you for a moment.

“What’s your point, love?” he asked.

“That first spike,” you said, turning away from him so you could think again, “would have been during your morning rounds.”

He lent closer again, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with long fingers.

“And that second one would have come during your evening rounds,” you said, tracing the spike on the screen.

He blinked before his shoulders relaxed, shoulders shaking in an easy chuckle. You gave him a soft smile, looking down at his face. He shook his head, seemingly bemused at his own inability to see the trees in the forest.

“Someone might have a bit of a crush on you, Dr Pinfield,” you said, stealing his attention again.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, I know I perk up when I see you.”

He gave you a cocky half smile, leaning towards you. With your arm still around him, it wasn’t hard. Dipping your head towards him, his chin lifted until his lips were a hair breadth’s away.

“I might have noticed a certain spike in your energy when I enter a room,” he murmured.

“Have I mentioned I have a massive crush on you?” you whispered.

“Once or twice.”

His lips claimed yours, searing and swift. You hummed into his mouth as his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you as close as you could get without sitting in his lap. Your hand was on his chin, keeping him tipped towards you as your tongue swept into his mouth.

“What the fuck?”

You drew back, working hard to remind yourself you were still at work. Even after months with him, you found it too easy to lose yourself in Lars, especially when his lips were on you. Gary was staring at the two of you, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Lars hand slid from your waist to you hip, keeping you close as you stared back, not sure what to say.

“Is this because I said Lars couldn’t surprise me?” he asked, wandering closer.

“You think that’s the only reason she would kiss me?” Lars asked and you realised that he wasn’t shocked like you, but already on the defensive.

“Isn’t it?” Gary’s goofy smile was not doing good things.

“Lars and I have been together for a while now so no, if anything, I wouldn’t ever kiss him just to prove a point to you,” you said, “I do it because I want to and so does he.”

“Well, hey, that’s great. Congrats. Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

“Because it’s no one’s business but ours,” you replied.

“And to keep pricks like you out of it,” Lars mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear.

“So when I told you about Dan…?” Gary asked.

“You were basically hitting on me for someone else in front of my boyfriend,” you said, “yeah, not ideal. Quite awkward I’d say.”

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“Yeah, well, clearly you thought I had no chance,” Lars said.

“I didn’t know you wanted a chance,” Gary said with an affable shrug.

“Who wouldn’t want a chance with her?” he demanded, “are you saying there’s something wrong with her?”

“I don’t think he’s saying that,” you said, running your fingers though his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck.

“Of course not. Just didn’t think you were the kind to date,” Gary said.

“I’d stop talking now if I were you,” you said to him before Lars’ acerbic reply could cut him.

“Good idea,” he said, “so no update on the lil guy?”

“Nope,” you replied.

“Yeah, you’ve been a bit busy, huh.” His conspiratorial smile only seemed to rankle Lars more.

“We’ll let you know when we have something,” he said, replying for you.

You tugged on his hair again until he tipped his chin up to look at you. You wrinkled your nose and he softened, just a little, enough for you offer him a half smile. He readjusted his glasses with his free hand, fingers tightening on your hip for a moment.

“I won’t hold my breath,” Gary said.

You waved him off, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on your boyfriend’s lips. You didn’t even notice Gary making his escape, so wrapped up in him the rest of the world melted away, leaving the two of you together to enjoy a moment of peace together.

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield imagine #lars pinfield x reader #request #anon

58 notes · View notes

suempu · 2 days

Note

Falls to floor your writing is so lovely Do you perhaps have any kabru x reader sfw/nsfw hcs…

thank you so much for the kind words. “lovely” 🥹 ahh you got me blushing anon lmfao

gn reader + on the receiving end !!!

kabru would be the casual type of lover. he’s nothing but calm and suave with you, which is attractive.

he’s quite attentive of people and you’re no exception. although he really goes out of his way to be accommodating when it comes to you if you’re his lover.

mindful of your expressions and body language. once he sees a sign of you being uncomfortable, kabru will pull you away from the group and talk to you softly.

i feel like he’d be good at taking care of his partner, though he’s not the best, he tries.

kabru’s good at talking you down, grounding you into reality whenever you’re on the verge of a breakdown. let’s say you feel very unstable, he’ll whisper in the most softest tone you’ll ever hear while he holds your hand. he asks permission to touch you beforehand of course.

“here, you can feel my fingers, right?”

“mm.”

“my palm, feel it. you’re here with me,”

“i’m here…”

“good job. can i ask what happened?”

he’s good at radiating a calm atmosphere when you need it and he’s always ready to help you.

praises and compliments come out of his mouth like a piece of cake, he’s not shy when it comes to showering you with love. the whole party is grossed out by him whenever you’re around. it’s like when the parents are being all lovey-dovey and the children just groan out an ‘eww’ (its mainly mickbell complaining tho lmao)

i believe he’s had one or two intimate relationships before you, but none of them has ever lasted long enough as yours. so he’s had some experience before you.

he’s certainly a tease. have you seen that face? that face screams unfairness and mischief (in bed)

kabru loves your whining whenever he purposely denies you release. one moment his fingers will go fast and wild on your most sensitive spots, and the next he goes painstakingly slow.

“aww, but if i let you cum this early, then what about me?”

he’s a cheeky bastard. the real reason why he draws out your orgasms is because he believes that edging you will result to a much pleasurable and hard orgasm for later (he’s right.)

you will get overstimulated with this man, no question about it. he strives to make you cum at least 5-6 times in one session, which is overkill but he really loves the way your eyes glaze over.

kabru loves your tears and whining, though it kind of makes him guilty so he makes sure to absolutely spoil you after.

his hips are bad for your body. with the way he thrusts into you so precisely. its like he already knows which spot to hit, he rolls into you as he teases and whispers in your ear. he’s actually fucking crazy.

“right here? oh yeah, here?”

he moans in time with his thrusts. he loves watching your face, how your half lidded eyes look so lost yet so present. missionary is definitely his favorite position. loves being all up on your face, he kisses your cheeks, forehead, lips, and jaw while he’s inside you.

nights with him are long and wild, but he can go slow and be more gentler if you asked him to. he lives for your reactions, he thinks its really sweet how you trust him so much with your body.

kabru makes up for all his teasing with aftercare. he pants as he pulls you close, hands on your back and caressing you gently.

“you okay? did i break you?”

“shut up.” you breath out hoarsely.

he chuckles, “i love you too.”

he gives you a massage after that, quietly kissing your hips and stomach as his fingers rub at your skin. whispers small apologies while his hands work on your body. he always checks in on you whenever he hears a whine or groan when he touches a sore spot.

while he is content with just sleeping and cuddling in your own sweat, he’ll take you to the bathroom if you want to be cleaned.

solid lover, tries his best, just don’t ever have sex in his own bedroom (its messy)

#kabru of utaya #kabru x reader #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #kabru dungeon meshi #kabru delicious in dungeon

60 notes · View notes

bestworstcase · 2 days

Note

Thanks for your response ala Ruby & Yang, great stuff!

Idle aside, but do you have any thoughts on Yang's role as the sort of black sheep of the family by dint of Raven associations?

Cos like, Tai overtly favors Ruby, projects Raven onto Yang, resents Raven being rough up and is bad enough about reminders of her Yang feels she has to apologize for his negative reactions. Let alone his... Everything else.

Then there's Qrow who doesn't seem to interact with Yang over much at all and one of if not their most major interaction. Involves him straight up saying he thinks she's either a liar hurting people for fun or "crazy".

I recall someone I was chatting with wondering: Imagine doing everything you can to keep your family from breaking apart & being compared to the woman who left you when you were a baby?

Cos I do wonder how Yang feels about all that given she seems to downplay and or try to work around her family's issues when she can. Let alone what it says about the adults in the room.

smth i think about a lot is the way yang’s narrative about her childhood shifts between v2 to v5

’cause in v2 it’s: “it was tough. ruby was really torn up, my dad kind of shut down. it wasn’t long before i learned why…” all to provide context for this anecdote about putting ruby in a wagon and running away to find her mother. and then her conclusion is “my stubbornness should have gotten us killed that night.”

and while there is a degree here of yang framing the story to emphasize the point she wants blake to understand, it’s also very obvious in her delivery that the emotional reality of this memory for yang is “the time my stupidity and stubbornness almost got me and ruby eaten by grimm”—when she was [checks notes] like five, six years old, and regularly left at home unsupervised.

but in v5, it’s: “my mom left me. ruby’s mom left too. tai was always busy with school, and ruby couldn’t even talk yet; i had to pick up the pieces. i had to pick up the pieces. alone.”

aside from the telling slip (tai, not dad)—yang centers her own feelings and the harm this situation did to her this time. which is something she’s always felt but i don’t think she could have brought herself to say it out loud to anyone during the beacon arc, because it was pressed down under the guilt on display in burning the candle, the feeling of having been inadequate and too stubborn and too selfish and and and–

coughs quietly. “my stubbornness should have gotten us killed that night.” / “you were predictable. and… stubborn. and maybe a little boneheaded.” yang’s narrative about the wagon incident—which happened when she was five or six!—pinning the blame on the thing tai imagines to be her fatal flaw is…probably not coincidental. yang in v4 after a year of being loved by her team and supported by mentors like glynda / oobleck / port has the perspective to know that tai doesn’t know what he’s talking about; but as a small child who’d just had a terrifying near-death experience with her baby sister… 😶

it definitely had a big impact on the way yang sees herself

BUT i do read qrow's talk with yang in 3.8 pretty differently ->

because the context is: yang saw mercury attack her and struck back in self defense, then had like a dozen synthetic soldiers point guns in her face, then looked up and saw the replay footage of herself walking over to shoot a boy who was just kneeling on the ground. and some of the most powerful authority figures in the world are pushing this narrative that stress and adrenaline "clouded her judgment."

like this would make anyone doubt their sanity. bc holy shit.

yang, though...a couple weeks ago, yang after being knocked unconscious woke up and blearily saw someone she thought was her mother walk away from her and disappear in a flash of red light. she hasn't mentioned it to anyone, because it's just so bizarre—yang doesn't know about raven's semblance yet—she must have just been seeing things. right?

aside from raven (who isn't here) and yang (who believes she hallucinated), the only other person who knows that yang saw her mom on the train is qrow, because raven told him about it. he also knows that:

tai insisted on not telling yang ANYTHING about her mother, and qrow respected that up until now; so yang doesn't know about raven's semblance and can't make sense of what she saw.

salem's infiltrators are the same people who attacked amber, and qrow didn't get a good look at them because they seemingly vanished into thin air—pretty damn good chance that one of them has a semblance that manipulates what you see.

ozpin wants #2 kept secret, so yang has some very powerful people actively trying to convince her that she's crazy. ironwood is straight up gaslighting her.

qrow also—based on the first thing he says, which is "why'd you do it?"—seems to consider it a possibility that it is what it looked like but yang did have a good reason, and i actually do not think that is an outrageous thing for qrow specifically to think. because qrow was emotionally abused as a child, and he knows yang, and in the event that yang really did suddenly turn around and punch a guy who was kneeling on the ground, why would she do it?

glances at shay d. mann. well. maybe this kid has been harassing her? maybe he said something horrible or threatening to her and in the heat of the moment she just snapped? maybe "he attacked me, i saw him attack me" isn't really a lie per se, she's just scared that "he's been picking on me ever since he got here and he made a disgusting remark and i just couldn't take it anymore" won't be taken seriously? as in, he did attack her—verbally/emotionally.

it's probably worth asking, at least!

so, qrow leads with "why'd you do it?" in case there is some invisible reason justifying the apparent action. yang says "you know why." qrow goes okay, well, i only know what i saw, so you're either lying (i.e., yang had a reason she now isn't telling) or crazy (i.e., yang saw something different from reality that was very real to her).

she says "i'm not lying." qrow believes her: "crazy, got it."

at this point, he knows the most probable explanation is that one of salem's infiltrators fucked with her head. the inner circle's gaslighting doesn't sit right with him; he's not going to buck ozpin by telling her the truth outright, but he wants to make sure yang knows she isn't losing her mind. he also has all the info needed to guess that yang is actually really really scared that she might be crazy.

which is why he kicks off the wall and begins to pace around. the language he uses sounds dismissive, but his tone is mild and his body language implies "let's talk about it, let's figure this out."

leading to:

YANG: Who knows? Maybe I am. QROW: And here I thought your dark-haired friend was the emo one. YANG: I saw my mom. …I- I was in a lot of trouble, took a pretty hard hit. But when I came to, the person attacking me was gone, and I thought I saw… her. Her sword. Like the one in you and dad’s old picture. QROW: You’re not crazy, Yang. That was your mom, alright. Let me guess—she didn’t say a word, did she? YANG: How did you know that? QROW: I don't see my sister very often, but she does try to keep in touch... whenever it suits her. YANG: Wait—you mean you talk to her? That was real!? QROW: Yeah, she found me. Had a tip from my most recent assignment and wanted me to give you a message.

it's really telling that yang responds to him this way. 'cause we've seen how yang acts when she feels dismissed or belittled:

TAI: Well, "normal" is what you make of it. YANG: What is that supposed to mean? Do you want me to just pretend like nothing happened? I lost a part of me. A piece of me is gone. And it's never coming back. TAI: You're right. It's not coming back. But that doesn't have to stop you from becoming who you wanna be. You're Yang Xiao Long, my sunny little dragon. You can do whatever you put your mind to. So whenever you're ready to stop moping, and get back out there? I'll be there for you. YANG: I– I...

she freezes and shuts down! her teachers have to come to her rescue!—but when qrow goes "crazy, got it" and suggests she's being "emo," yang blurts out her big secret. i saw my mom. to me that suggests a level of trust and understanding that isn't there with tai: qrow says stuff like "okay, so you're crazy" and "here i thought your friend was the emo one" but what he means is "hey, i know something's really bugging you, tell me about it," and yang picks up what he's putting down.

it's akin to how ruby goes "did you miss me? DID YOU MISS ME??" and qrow's like "nope" and they both laugh. or the back-and-forth ribbing between him and the girls in 3.4. there's this layer of mild ironic meanness in the way qrow converses with his nieces that all of them are fluent in, and in this scene he's using that mode to signal that "crazy" is not off-limits, that it's okay to talk about openly.

crucially, there's a code-switch in the middle of the conversation: as soon as yang gets real and says "i saw my mom," qrow reflects that seriousness back to her. you're not crazy, that was your mom, she found me afterward and told me about it. it was real. you're okay. qrow's ability to do that—to shift into a more serious mode when irony isn't appropriate—is why yang can have this rapport with him that she doesn't have with tai, because tai isn't... being ironic when he says mean or dismissive things to her.

anyway, qrow passes on raven's terrible message and then kind of annotates it: "raven's got an interesting way of looking at the world that i don't particularly agree with, and she's dangerous." (which is a very diplomatic way of saying he thinks raven is full of shit. lol.) but then he connects this whole conversation about raven back to what happened after the match: "you're a tough egg, kiddo. don't let this tournament thing getcha down. you had a slip-up; sometimes bad things just happen."

implicitly: yang isn't crazy. what she saw on the train was real, a product of raven's personality and her semblance. sometimes bad things just happen. qrow believes that yang had the experience she says she did when she punched mercury. he doesn't know why she had that experience—yang doesn't either!—but he knows she isn't just "crazy." sometimes things that seem crazy are actually real.

remember what he tells the girls in 3.4? "you may be acting like huntresses, but you're not thinking like one." same thing here. he's telling yang, hey, you're not crazy, you know what you saw, but you don't know what or who caused you to see it. "you cut off the head of the king taijitu, but now the second head's calling the shots."

hint, hint.

it's subtler than the hints qrow drops for ruby in 3.12, but very much in the same vein, and yang is plenty smart enough to figure it out. she might... not have? in the couple of hours between this conversation and everything going to straight to hell, but if they'd had literally just one more day, just long enough for the wheels turning in yang's head to click together with what ruby heard from velvet about coco hallucinating during her and yatsu's 2v2 against emerald and mercury, she would've had it.

more... generally, i've never gotten the sense that qrow projects raven's flaws onto yang in the way that tai does; qrow is definitely a lot closer with ruby than yang, but i think that has less to do with favoritism on qrow's part than it does ruby thinking he's like the COOLEST uncle ever and wanting to use a scythe like he does.

'cause like, qrow isn't their parent, he doesn't live with them, he's not responsible for raising these kids like their dad is, so while he obviously did contribute to fucking them both up because: alcoholic, ultimately there just isn't the same degree of betrayal or emotional abandonment; he's not their dad. both times yang talks in detail about her childhood, it's "my mom left, ruby's mom left, tai wasn't really around, ruby couldn't even talk, i was alone"—she doesn't mention qrow. there isn't that deep hurt, that feeling that qrow is someone who left.

when he isn't drunk, yang seems to feel pretty okay around him, and qrow likewise treats her... honestly a lot better than tai does:

he stops by their dorm in v3 to hang out with both his nieces; yang is fully in sister mode—cheers for ruby to beat him until ruby loses, immediately shoves her out of the way like "my turn!! >:D"—and qrow ribs them both, takes ribbing from both of them in good humor, tells both of them "you two are gonna go far."

qrow nicknames to show affection; ruby is "pipsqueak," yang gets "firecracker."

we only see qrow's goodbye to ruby, but in 5.4 yang indicates that qrow came to talk to her before he left, too. she also has complete trust that he's keeping the promise he made to look after ruby.

yang, as noted, opens up to him about seeing her mom; she's also shocked that he's still in contact with raven and indignant that he didn't tell her sooner, but—unlike with tai—she doesn't seem surprised that qrow is willing to talk about raven in general.

which tracks with what tai says in 4.11: "despite asking him numerous times not to, i know qrow told you where you're mother's been at these days"—meaning, this was a point of contention between him and qrow. behind the scenes, while tai refused to discuss raven at all, qrow was going okay well, let me tell her then, she deserves to know. and then ultimately he just bit the bullet and told her behind tai's back. i wouldn't be surprised if it turned out qrow had been straight with yang that her dad wanted to be the one to tell her the important stuff, and he wanted to be respectful of that, but raven wasn't an off-limits topic.

general contrast between yang-tai and yang-qrow dynamics; for example both of them say almost verbatim "you've got a long way to go before you're ready for the real world" (3.4/4.4). from tai it's belittling, he's insulting her; from qrow, it's meant to encourage, it's "remember you're still new to this, you'll make mistakes, just keep learning, keep trying." (rwby does stuff like this all the time, refracting an idea in different directions to highlight contrasts between characters; ozpin's advice to ruby vs port's advice to weiss is another example.)

a lot of qrow's resentment toward raven is centered on her abandonment of yang: "did you know yang lost her arm? [...] rhetorical question, i know you know. it's just obnoxious that you'd bring up family and then carry on like your own daughter doesn't exist. [raven: "i saved her."] once. because that was your rule, right? real mom of the year material, sis." like he is PISSED on yang's behalf that raven won't even try.

my impression is that qrow—although a) often away on long missions in far away places and b) an alcoholic who sometimes got blind drunk and became a burden yang and ruby needed to take care of—when he did manage to be there, made a serious effort to connect with both of them. he ended up being closer to ruby bc she wanted to learn scythe-wielding, but i do think qrow would've trained yang too (or instead) if the girls had different combat interests.

and while his relationship with ruby has a mentorish aspect, i don't get the sense either of the girls see him as a parental figure: he wasn't part of their household, he traveled a lot, his alcoholism in combination with tai's neglect eroded the adult-child boundaries because they had to be responsible for him as often as the reverse. he's a friend who also happens to be related to them. and that's especially true for yang, because he wasn't her teacher.

(i know it's a... pretty common headcanon / fanon that qrow lived with them, but i really don't think that's supported by the text? whenever ruby or yang look back on their childhoods, the family unit is always them + tai, and qrow isolates himself out of fear that his semblance will injure those he cares about. plus ozpin sending him all over the place as the one member of team strq still active. it makes way more sense to think he lived alone, and visited when he had the chance. which is the main reason i'm WAY softer on him than on tai, 'cause qrow wasn't in a caretaker/parent role; at most he was an occasional babysitter. so while his incidents of turning up drunk on the doorstep contributed to the harm... it's like, it would absolutely have been better for them if qrow were sober, but that wouldn't have changed anything about their home life. they'd just have somewhat easier relationships with qrow.)

TO WRAP THIS BACK AROUND TO THE QUESTION, tai is unfairly judgmental and harsh with yang bc he projects his idea of her mom onto her; yang also has a better relationship with her mom's brother than she does with her dad. how do these two dynamics interact? how does yang feel about hearing from tai that she's too branwen, so to speak, while also getting along better with the branwen side of her family? how might that fuel her desire to find raven?

if her uncle treats her better than tai does, then... maybe her mom would too, if only yang could reach her?—obviously it's not rational, but like. i don't think five year old yang put her baby sister in a wagon and ran away to find her mom because she thought she would ask "why did you leave me?" and then get her answer and go home. as yang grew older and developed a more realistic perspective it shifted to "i just need to know why she left" and she projects that backward onto herself as a child, but at the time what she wanted, what she was looking for, was someone who would take care of them.

#never-ending heap of yang thoughts

54 notes · View notes

moonystoes · 22 hours

Text

Prom date - Elisa De Almeida x reader (highschool students) pt.3

Summary: It's the day you have been waiting for, except you didn't spend it with your date.

Warning: slight homophobia and bullying (it's paul and his minions smh), too much yap guys im sorry, no kissing nothing it's KILLING ME TOO OKAY? unrealistic corny shit but they're 14 in 2012.

wc: 7.799k

a/n: hey y'all... did you miss me? i want to apologize for this chapter because it's yap and a mess to be honest. but it has been a while since the last time i wrote. i also want to say sorry for the people that were waiting...again, i'm still pretty new to writing, and if you have any advice please help me out!!

Here: part 1 part 2

Wednesday, 19th of december 2012

You were always excited about the idea of prom. The makeup, the dress, the dance, the romantic glances, and obviously the kiss that would be your first. But now the only thing that's on your mind was Elisa.

In these two days, Elisa has been acting slightly differently around you than before. She would give you a small nod of acknowledgement with a small smile or the usual frown. Yet, it still seemed like there was a barrier between the both of you, and talking to each other still felt impossible.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror making sure your ‘picture-smile’ looks good. Sam was next to you, holding a large pink make-up palette with an eyeshadow brush in her other hand.

You hated sleeping in class for one reason, and it's your silly mouth. Whenever you wake up you end up saying something stupid. And based on the way Elisa was looking at you, you knew you had said something dumb at the nurse office that day.

You had tried everything in your power to remember what you said, but nothing had worked.

“Girl it's not that serious, you're acting as if you confessed your love or something.” Sam groaned out, waving the pink powdered brush around. Your eyes widened and turned to look at her, “Sam! Don't say that, she's a girl!”

“So?” She shrugged, dabbing a glittery shade on your eyelids.

“So? You know so. Girls shouldn't like girls like that, don't be stupid.” You frowned, closing your eyes so she can work on your eyelids again.

“Why not? I don’t give a shit.” Sam looked away from your eyelids and stepped away to look at you with a confused glance. Both of you have never discussed anything like this, but she still felt offended thinking that you thought she was against it.

Silence filled the room, your hands playing around with the cheap acrylic nails you glued on. “Really?” You whispered.

“Pfft, yeah. Who cares? We're in highschool now. At least we're not doing drugs.” She laughed. She started tapping a different shade to your eyes, while humming to the song playing on her phone.

“Well, the government does.” You shrugged, your silky straightened hair moving around your shoulder. You felt Sam stop tapping your eyes before she asks, “the government does what?”

“Care. Same sex marriage isn't allowed, that's what I meant.”

“Wait, you searched up about that?” Sam accused you as she stepped away again from your face to glance at you. You opened your eyes in shock as you moved the hair away from your face, “what! No…I just assumed that.”

Sam's face dropped as she gave you a disappointed glance, but your embarrassment made you look down to your sweatpants. You didn't want to admit to Sam that you've searched about it, and you also would kill yourself if she finds out about the Quora comment you made.

Sam has already suspected something weird about you this whole school semester, and at first she thought it was about how stressful school is. But she noticed that whenever she talks about Elisa to you, you'd look away and try to make the conversations shorter. What made her realize what's going on is whenever Elisa walks past you, you'd look at her hoping for some reaction. A smile, a nod, even just a glance, you've always hoped Elisa would acknowledge you.

It was when the both of you were sitting at lunch with your two other friends when you brought up her nonchalant responses to you. Lucia and Suzan looked at you confusingly, responding with a ‘she jokes and is really friendly to me’.

Usually you wouldn't care, saying that it's not an obligation to like every person in school and you'd respect her friendships. But when it came to Elisa, you would complain about it everyday to her.

She hoped that you'd speak to her about your newfound crush on Elisa, but you'd always swerve and act dumb whenever she brings Elisa up. However, she understands it's very difficult to come out, especially when you still don't even know what you are in the first place.

So she shrugged and decided to apply blush around your cheeks. After that, you stood and wore your floral dress, avoiding Sam's eyes.

Sam has been talking a little too much, about her new favorite show, the side character she's obsessing over, her new favorite snack, and many things she started blabbering about. When Sam talks too much, it means she's either hiding something from you or is trying to distract you. Both conclusions are awful, so you shook her off and started wearing your jewelry.

Sam's loud mouth slowed down as you stared at your complete reflection. She pulled your hand to sit on the bed before you left to the venue. She held into it and said, “If Paul doesn't treat you well, it doesn't matter okay? You're there to experience your first prom, not your first date with Paul.”

You looked down at your intertwined hands and sighed, feeling like she knew something you don’t. Did Paul say he would ditch me? Does she know about that? She continued, “Besides, you look too good. If he treats you badly, you can literally get anyone else.”

You huffed and looked away from her, “Yeah like who?”

“Every guy. Literally,” She said in a duh tone. She stayed quiet for a second before adding, “probably Elisa too if what they say is true.”

You looked up to look at Sam, “no way, I'm not her type.”

“And how would you know her type?”

You stayed silent and awkwardly shrugged as you looked down. “Amy's probably her type, just like everyone else.”

Sam sighed loudly and wrapped her left arm around your shoulder, “I wish you can see yourself the way these boys do. You're smart, gorgeous, kind, hardworking, and so many more. Amy is cute, yeah… but she's not the whole package.”

You bit your lip trying to suppress your smile,and leaned into her touch. “Thanks, I'll let you know what happens when I come back.”

Sam nodded and stood up, realizing that you're heading out right now. “Is he coming now?”

You turned and looked at her, “who?”

Sam's stomach sank when she realized the situation, she sighed loudly, “oh my God are you actually telling me he's not even taking you there.”

Giving her a forced smile, you stood up and wore your heels. “I don't care about him at this point. I feel like…my crush on him was never real you know. Like… I was attached to the hope of us being close like how we were when we were kids, I wasn't actually hoping for a relationship with him,” you exhaled calmly, “I just want to experience prom, I don't care about the romance part, especially not with him anymore.”

Sam was glad that you were officially over Paul. She knew he wouldn't be a great partner and she wanted what's best for you. But she knew that there was something else. Because for you to get over someone, you'd have to be distracted enough to forget about them. That's how you are.

Sam walked you to the car outside, your parents both standing with a camera to take pictures. You were glad they didn't know about American prom traditions, because it is embarrassing how Paul isn't here to take pictures with you as well as the corsage and flowers.

After the awkward posing, your father got into the car and dropped you off at the huge venue the school rented for today. As you stepped out of the car, fear started brewing in you. You were late because of the long lectures from your parents so the building was filling up already and you were the type of person who would come first to everything.

You hoped you would not find Paul as you took a deep breath and entered the poorly lit room. It was filled with blue decorations, blue foil curtains around the walls and entrance, blue balloons, blue flowers, blue ceilings, everything was either blue or white except the yellow lamps that created a ‘romantic’ atmosphere.

“Hey you're here!” A sudden noise came from behind you, feeling a hand on your shoulder.

You turned immediately, finding Paul wearing a classic white and black suit and a red tie. You gave him a fake smile and replied, “yeah I just came here, I hope you're not mad that I'm a bit late.”

Paul gave you a bright smile, the one that makes your anger and disappointment in him slightly fade away, “don't worry, I didn't even notice you weren't with me anyways!”

He grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the tables not realizing the face drop in your face. You didn't know if you should feel offended or just cry, your stomach dropping as you felt slightly sick.

“Hey guys, my date is here.” He pointed at you, introducing you to his friend group. You've known them, they were all in your class and you've talked to them previously.

Adam glanced at you and waved, “you didn't tell us it's y/n!” You looked away from them, trying to hold in your frustration and disappointment. He called you his date and didn't bother to introduce you by your name, but it's okay because you ARE his date. He just called you what you are… you can't get mad at that.

But he didn't even tell them it was you? So he hid the fact he asked you out for the past 2 weeks? You remained facing away from them, hugging your bare arms into yourself as you hoped you could find someone to run and talk to. Adam, Paul and his friends were chatting about video games and football. A part of you wanted to join the football conversation, but you knew they're going to mock you because you're a girl.

So you pulled out your phone and texted Sam a quick update message letting her know that Paul was disappointing just like how the both of you were expecting. You turned it off when you heard Yousef talk about Elisa.

“I can't believe Elisa actually came.” You looked to Yousef, realizing he was facing the food and drinks table. You turned immediately to find where she was. After moments of looking around, you found her standing around the drinks area laughing at something Marie said, her hair neatly styled to the side. You have noticed that Elisa's hair is always styled well, but this time it looks like she took longer to perfect her look. She was wearing the usual black and white suit, except with a pink tie.

You wondered what Marie had said to make her laugh that hard, and you looked around her to check if she had a date. You knew Fleur was recovering from her injury, but what if she brought someone else?

Your gaze was interrupted when you heard Paul mutter something, “No matter how much she dresses like us, she can never be us,” You turned to look at him in surprise, “imagine being a lesbian and trying to dress like us yet you get no dates.”

Your shock turned into anger, “Paul, what the fuck!” You couldn't believe he is your date, let alone your best friend as a kid.

The guys all laughed at what he said and how you reacted, Paul looked at you in shame and he tried to pull you away from the group.

“No let go of me! You can't just say stuff like that, it's rude.” You angrily pushed his hand away from your wrist. Out of all the things Paul did, this was the worst of them. Because he was not hurting you, he was hurting Elisa. Elisa the sweet girl that did nothing wrong to him.

“Y/n come on she can't hear us it's okay.” He pulled you closer as he whispered to you. His soft brown eyes looking at you to let you know how sincere he was. You felt disheartened, this was the guy you had a crush on. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down to not cause a scene. You can't behave this way for Elisa, they'll know. Wait…they'll know what? You glanced at Elisa to make sure she didn't hear him, now she's standing alone as Marie and Adam were dancing to the upbeat music playing.

“So just because she can't hear you, it technically means you didn't say it? Paul, you still said it!” You whisper-shouted at him. You exhaled slowly as the anger faded into shame. Shame in thinking he was sweet and precious. Shame in still expecting more from him no matter how much he ignored you.

“What can prove existence y/n? It's for you to have proof of something or remember it. No one can prove what I said to Elise, and she didn't witness it. You know what this means?” You gaped at him in surprise, is he turning this situation into a philosophical study? “What I said doesn't exist in Elise's world. She doesn't know about it, okay?” he held your hand and pulled you into him, leaving his right arm around your shoulder.

Your insides churned as you felt disappointed, not in Paul this time, but in yourself for not letting go of him and defending Elisa. You didn't even have the energy to correct him for saying the wrong name. For now, you're thinking of a plan to stay away from him.

The boys started talking about other stupid topics as Paul's arm remained on you. Instead of listening to them, you focused on Élisa's back as she was standing a few meters away from you. From this angle, it looked like Elisa had a new haircut for today. Her shaved sides looked cleaner, the suit she was wearing was fitting her shoulders so well as if she got it tailored. You glanced back to Paul when you realized you're putting too much focus on her.

You quickly took off Paul’s hand off your shoulder, telling him that you’re going to the bathroom. Your tense muscles started to calm down when you had finally escaped him and his annoying friends. Walking in the dark hallway to somewhere quieter, you decided to stop by the drinking area and get yourself cold water to calm yourself but you were interrupted by someone.

“I thought you were here with Paul?” You turned to the voice and found Elisa pouring herself a sprite, her first two buttons of her shirt were open and the light pink tie was loose. You froze in place as you looked at her this way, the orange hues from the lights hit her left face making her sharp jawline pop and her prominent nose stand out. You sighed quietly as your hands started to shiver, but you couldn’t blame the cold for this one. You know exactly what this is now.

“I don’t care about him.” You gulped the water and threw the paper cup in the trash.

“Did he hurt you?” She stepped closer to you as the loud music was making it difficult for her to hear you. But your flustered state made you step back, “no, he just said something rude about someone I care about…”

Elisa’s face changed from frustration to confusion, “who?”

You felt like the first day of school all over again, the unnecessary nervousness consuming you as you folded your arms against your chest, “why do you care?” you snorted and looked at the dancing couples at the new slow music playing.

Elisa figured out that you probably didn't even want to be around her, she was the one that approached you and started this conversation anyways. But why wouldn't you say who Paul was talking about? She has been nicer to you, right? Are you guys friends now?

Elisa froze as she thought back to how she has been treating you since that nurse encounter two days ago. She realized that she was just dramatic for thinking that the way you viewed her changed, a small smile and a nod doesn't make you guys friends. Besides, she was the only one that had reacted differently. Yours were the same, glancing away and looking down.

“You're right, I don't care.” She frustratingly mumbled, turning away from the table and you and pretending to care about the cringey gross couples dancing (she wishes she could have a girl and dance like that).

Your chest ached at the thought that she doesn't care, but you exhaled a breath you were holding when you realized she stopped asking who it was. You also didn't understand why you worded it that way in the first place. Why did you say that you cared about her? You wondered how she'd react if she knew about what happened, and really hoped she wouldn't find out about your new attraction.

You thought back to what Sam said, is it not that bad and you were being dramatic? Your parents were never religious, but they still never showed any sort of awareness about gay people. You thought about how your parents would react if you brought Elisa as your girl, and just the thought of her being yours made you smile.

You needed to accept it, but you didn't know how. So you glanced back at elisa now that you have admitted it to yourself, that you like elisa. Her face was still facing the couples, her hand holding the filled glass as her other hand was folded almost like yours.

“Why pink?”, you stuttered out, hoping to hear Elisa's voice again even if she was glaring from frustration.

“Hmm?” Elisa turned back to look at you with confusion and bent down to hear you. Now that the both of you are standing next to each other, she can see your face clearly and the effort you made for today. The soft pink makeup around your eyelids, the red pouty lips, the straightened hair, and the tight-fitted dress that made her eyes struggle to not look down. And all of this made her heart tighten, because all of this was for Paul. Not for her, for a guy that is a piece of shit and treats you awfully when she can treat you better.

Elisa kept in mind that when she said she can treat you better, she didn't mean it literally. She doesn't like you. In fact, she can't stand you no matter how many sweet interactions you can get into, you'll always be grossed out by her…or maybe you just can't stand to be around her for some reason (she has one in mind). She just said that theoretically, if Elisa had a girl, she would’ve treated her way better than that stupid guy.

“The tie,” you shakenly point at her tie as you avoided eye contact, “why the color pink?” Your mind started filling up with many thoughts, on why you even thought of this question, or what if she thinks you were mocking her outfit? You could’ve said anything else to start a conversation. You were never like this, you were socially bubbly and knew exactly what to say in situations. Why are you suddenly behaving this awkwardly?

It seemed as if Elisa had forgotten what she was wearing the way she looked down to look at the tie you were talking about. She stood up straighter and thought for a second. Normally Elisa would feel somewhat offended by the question, but she knew you meant no harm in asking and you looked like you were just curious, “to show people that at the end of the day I am still a girl.”

You stayed silent for a moment, confused by the response she just gave you, “but… pink is just a color I mean… how does that even, you know what? Nevermind.” You cringed out at the way you spoke to her. You should’ve just stayed quiet, especially by the way Elisa is side-eyeing you right now.

She cracked a smile when she saw your panic, “I know, I’m just kidding,” She turned around, now her front is facing the table edge on your right. She rested her hands on the edge as she leaned closer to you, making you lean back to the point where your butt is almost on top of the table. “I actually bought this awhile ago when I thought Fleur was coming with me before she injured herself.”

“Oh,” you looked down at her hands gripping the edge of the table, “so I’m assuming Fleur was meant to wear pink, right?”

She nodded, but before she responded you screeched out when you realized the music changed, “Woah, not this song!” She looked at you confusedly as you jumped off the table and looked around you embarrassed, “sorry I don’t even know why I did that. This is my favorite song of all time and I kinda got excited.”

Elisa laughed awkwardly, looking around the same direction as you to see what you’re looking for. But her eyes froze when she noticed it was Paul, and he was also looking around possibly for you. You knew Paul was looking for you, because no matter how many things he forgot about you, your love for this song is unforgettable.

You turned your glance to Elisa, realizing she’s also looking at Paul, “hey, I don’t want him to see me…he’ll probably try and get me to dance with him but I can’t even stand him after what he did today.”

“Umm… So do you want me to cover you or what?” she scrunched her face in confusion as she opened her suit jacket in a way to try and hide you from anyone behind her, including paul.

You were stunned for a moment, gaping at her before bursting out from laughter. For a second, you forgot about the fact you were trying to hide from Paul as you saw Elisa's pink flushed cheeks seeing you laughing at her awfully failed attempt. But you were thankful nonetheless, “I don't think this would cover me completely but thank you.”

She slowly returned the jacket back around her waist, buttoning the first button and turning around to check for Paul again. Elisa knew her face was probably red and burning, but in her defense, what was she supposed to do? She tried not to face you until her face cools down a bit so she tried to look for ‘Voldemort’ again. When she saw him, she smiled. Paul had stopped looking around and concluded that you probably was still in the bathroom. So now Elisa knew that Paul won't have to treat you like shit, “damn how much do you like this song that he even noticed you were gone?”

“Um… I used to sing it all the time back when we used to hang out together. The obsession was intense.” You suddenly felt so pathetic for your crazy obsession, but when you looked up to see Elisa, she had a fond smile.

“Yeah, I get it. I had a crazy obsession with one video game to the point where Fleur and Marie avoided me because I kept talking about it.”

You glanced back and saw Paul talking to Amy. And right now, you were glad that he was talking to her. Because you can just spend your time talking with Elisa and he won't even think about you.

“If I was really drunk and no one was around, I would be dancing right now.” You mumbled, frowning as you were humming the song. Elisa giggled at your comment, she took a step to the dark hallway and pointed to the place next to her.

“No one is going to look here.” Elisa's voice came out way more unsteady than she had expected. It's not like she's asking you to dance with her, she just wanted you to feel comfortable and enjoy prom. And it's your favorite song, anyone would want to dance to their favorite song without judgment, right?

You sighed as you looked down to cover your blushing face. Although your face doesn't usually turn red, it does show somehow that you're ‘blushing’... well, that's what Sam says when you do anyways. Is Elisa asking to dance with you? There is no way that's what she meant, you had just admitted your crush on her to yourself and now she wants to dance with you, is this a dream?

Besides, she doesn't like you. Her little nods and glances mean nothing. What if she talks bad about you to her friends, maybe that's why she glances at you… to find something to talk about. But as you looked up to Elisa, her face contorted to a stressful frown and you had just realized that she probably thinks that you're rejecting her.

“Okay,” you gave her a small smile as you walked towards her to the unlit hallway. Elisa gave you the same soft smile, her cheeks turning pink. In her head, a million thoughts are running through her head. Is she about to have a girl dancing with her like the couples she just called gross and cringey? Were you actually going to dance with a girl? Elisa thought you were against that, she thought you wouldn’t even accept the idea of being around her.

But right as you stepped near her, the music abruptly stopped making the both of you groan and slack your shoulders. “Are you serious? I didn't even get to enjoy the best part.” You talked under your breath as you awkwardly stepped away from Elisa, realizing you were getting a bit too close to her.

Elisa was frustrated as much as you. She actually didn't give a damn about the song, but the thought of her dancing with you in your cute dress and bright smile made her pray that the song would be playing for a whole hour if possible. But she had to remind herself that she didn't necessarily want to dance with you specifically, she just wanted a girl in her arms, any girl. Or maybe that's one way of trying to convince herself.

A loud voice from the speakers echoed through the venue, “hey everyone, I am Michael and sorry to interrupt your dance, but we will reveal prom king and prom queen now. You were able to vote for the contestants for the whole past month. And now, we have the list. For prom kings, we have me, Paul Badosa, and Adam Nuñes. For prom queens, we have y/n l/n, Amy Moreau, and Jasmine Ali,” You turned to look at Elisa with a look of distress. If Paul and you win, you would have to dance in front of everyone. You didn’t want to be around Paul, and just the thought of his hands around your waist gave you goosebumps…and not the good kind. “Drum roll please… the winners are Paul Badosa and y/n l/n, congratulations! And please come to the front for the crown and the dance.”

Elisa was praying for you not to win it when she heard Paul's name. But now she realized that you need help escaping this place before they try to look for you. She turned to look at your anxious face and tapped your bare shoulder, pointing to the small neon ‘exit’ sign on the end of the pitch black hallway. You gratefully nodded and walked to that door, knowing that if you decided to run you would either trip or your heels would make too much noise. You can hear the students calling out your name and looking for you, but you chose to ignore it. You didn’t want to dance with Paul, everything would be uncomfortable.

Once you delicately and slowly opened the door, you turned around to thank Elisa. But you didn’t expect her to be this close, your face almost bumping into her chest. You stumbled backwards from the shock, and Elisa wrapped her arm around your waist before you dropped. From the sudden surprise and fear of falling, you wrapped your arms around Elisa's shoulder, trying to find balance on your uncomfortable heels.

For a moment, the both of you froze clinging into each other. Elisa slowly stepped forward, making sure the both of you are completely outside so the students don't find you… especially in this sort of position with her. You didn't want to let go of her so you pretended to struggle with your heels. Embarrassment started filling Elisa when she could feel her heartbeat speeding up and she closed her eyes begging that you can't feel it against your chest.

You were the first to let go; you were afraid if she noticed something different with the way you were behaving or if she was uncomfortable with the way you were clinging onto her. Elisa's focus was nowhere near you, she was trying to calm her gay heart. Obviously, she had hugged girls before. But it was you, in a cute dress, in a party, clinging into her… that's different.

The both of you were avoiding each other's eyes while trying to calm down, you looked at the door behind Elisa to make sure it's closed and decided to ask, “why didn't you stay? It's prom and you should enjoy it.”

“And you're going home alone? You don't even have a ride and it's dark outside, it's not right.”

You sighed gratefully, pulling out your phone to look at how far is the venue from your house. Surprisingly, it was just a 20 minute walk. And although this may seem too far away, you knew it wouldn't be that bad.

You refused to call your parents to pick you up from here. You didn't want them to know that Paul had basically ditched you and humiliated you and Elisa around his friends. You felt shame knowing what happened, even if it wasn't your fault. It's embarrassing to not celebrate prom and leave early… especially when you were the ‘popular’ student in class.

“It's okay Elisa, the venue isn't far off from my house.” You opened Google maps for you to follow the steps.

“Y/n it's still 8 at night, why don't you contact your dad to take you the same way he dropped you off?” Elisa blurted out. She was worried about you walking alone, another reason to hate on the inconsiderate idiot Paul. She also hoped that you didn't notice that she knew how you came to the venue, not wanting to admit to you that she was eyeing all the way from the outside when you came through the open entrance.

You stayed quiet for a moment, not wanting her to know the reason why you would rather walk in heels for 20 minutes rather than contacting your parents. You groaned, “I just don't want them to know I left early, they're going to ask me all about it.”

From your frustrated tone, Elisa understood exactly why. She stepped forward and pointed to the sidewalk, hoping you would lead the way to your house.

“Elisa, I'm sorry.” Your features suddenly contracted into a pout, remembering how stubborn Elisa is and how she would never accept a ‘no’ response.

“Y/n, it's okay. It's not like I was enjoying looking at couples dancing and wishing I was in one,” She exhales, “Besides, the only reason why I came here is because I promised Fleur.”

She stepped forward again, turning around to face you and waving her arm over. Elisa felt that she may have been sounding desperate, but it's okay right? It's not like you were uncomfortable with her walking you home. You seem more relaxed around her, and maybe her assumptions about you were false. She saw the soft grateful smile on your face as you followed her, holding up your phone to follow the map.

It was a blissful silence between you guys for a short while. Both secretly enjoy each other's company while also panicking on what to say. You bit into your lip as you prayed that you'd stop shaking from the chilly weather, goosebumps all over your arms. It's the south of France in December, and you're just wearing a dress.

Elisa turned to look at your phone to see where the both of you should go after the turn, but she noticed your fingers shivering as you were grasping your phone. Her body stiffened, realizing that it’s her duty now to protect you from the cold. She wanted to impress you, but she also wanted to take care of you, suddenly feeling protective of you and your health. Elisa’s fingers slowly unbuttoned her suit jacket and she slowed down from walking to remove it.

Elisa wasn’t aware that you were also glancing at her. The moonlight made her look like she came from an anime. Because there is not a single actress that can portray the angelic scenery in front of you. Your eyes traced her neck and collarbone from your view, and you didn’t notice Elisa had slowed down until it started to become difficult for you to shamelessly stare at her without turning your neck.

When Elisa stopped, you copied her and decided to wait for her. Until you realized that she had removed her jacket and is handing it to you. Elisa was breathing heavily, her lips between her teeth as she waited for you to take it. She was afraid that you would see this gesture as ‘weird’. But when she saw you grin at her as your hand accepted the jacket, her shoulders loosened up and she confidently walked again. Elisa prayed that you can’t see the panic in the way she’s walking, she wanted you to view her as calm and collected.

But you weren’t even thinking of the way she was standing or walking right now, you were a blushing mess at the sweet action. You followed her to thank her, “thanks, but you probably need it more than me.” You were still holding onto it, refusing to wear it.

“No, it’s okay! I’m wearing two layers beneath this,” she shook her head as she pointed at her dress shirt, “I promise I came prepared.”

You grinned brightly, lifting the large jacket and wearing it. The sleeves were reaching your fingertips, and the edge of the jacket had reached even below your butt. You buttoned all three of the buttons, accepting anything that can keep you warm in the winter wind.

Elisa was eyeing you from the corner of her eyes. She tried to mask the pink of her cheeks when she saw how big the jacket looked on you. She was aware that she is taller than most girls, but it’s difficult for her to notice that when she is lanky and skinny. Seeing you swim in her jacket made her smile in pride, and also because she thought you looked adorable that way, in her jacket under the streetlight.

“Wow… so you were planning to give your jacket to another girl, I see.” You sarcastically accused her as you nudged her shoulder. She bit her lip as she looked away, “no, that's not what I meant! I just…it was cold so-”

“I know, I'm joking.” You giggled when you saw her stammer. She nodded at what you said and stayed quiet, stuffing her clammy hands into her pockets.

You glanced back at the screen of your phone, realizing there is only a minute left before you reach home. You glanced back to Élisa and asked, “Hey, I want to thank you for all of this. Even when you said you didn't even want to stay there, I still feel rude dragging you out,” You smiled at her, hoping that she'd accept the offer you'll make, “Do you want to come over and have dinner with me?... and my family of course they'd be grateful to meet the person that walked me home.”

Elisa's eyes widened at the thought of your parents seeing her. She immediately declined, “no it's all okay actually, thanks.” She gave you a respectful smile, hoping you wouldn't take offense in her refusal. But she can see the embarrassment and the way your lips frowned, and now guilt is filling her heart. She didn't mean to make you sad, she was just worried about how your parents would react when they see her.

You shrugged her response off, hoping she can't read the disappointment in your face. Your parents taught you that if someone helped you, you have to offer them something back in gratitude. Whether it's candy, dinner, gifts, etc. So for Elisa to leave prom and walk you home, you felt the need to give her something back.

“This is my house, it's pretty small but I'm an only child so…” you pointed at the house when you spotted it as you turned to Elisa, “I want to give you something since you aren't coming in. Can you wait?”

Elisa nodded eagerly as a response. She felt like she couldn't breathe this whole walk with you, and she knew she needed a small break to recover from what happened the whole day. She saw you step inside the house wearing her jacket, she screeched when she realized your family will see you with it, “wait!”

But you had already stepped inside and you found both of your parents in the dining room eating dinner. They saw you and gave you a smile, “Hey, how was it?”

“Good. Mama, where did you put those fancy chocolates?”

Your father didn't say anything, he was only staring at the oversized suit jacket you were wearing.

“Ohhh, is it for Paul?” Your mom winked at you, her left hand pointing at the kitchen cabinet.

You sighed in frustration, not knowing what to say. If you said no, they'll ask who. And Elisa clearly doesn't want your parents to know her, and you also don't want your parents to question everything that happened with Paul.

So you didn't respond and grabbed the box of candy. But when your hands reached out for it, you noticed the suit jacket. Shit! Your parents would definitely question everything because of this.

You ran quickly outside, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

While you were away, Elisa was scanning your house out of curiosity. When she looked up to the lit bedroom upstairs, she noticed a shadow staring outside directly at her. She nearly jumped from it, closing her eyes in embarrassment. But who would that shadow be? She saw a glimpse of your parents when you opened the door, and you are an only child.

She took a deep breath and slowly looked up again, but the shadow wasn't there anymore. As she tried to take a step forward to see it from another angle, you opened the door.

She flinched and looked back at you, “oh, hi! Hi again…”

You looked at her strangely and smiled, “I didn't want you to go home with nothing, thank you.” You handed her the box of chocolate.

Elisa looked at the box, it was her favorite holiday chocolate. She isn't allowed to eat them at all because they were expensive and prestigious, only for special occasions.

“Oh wow, are you sure?” She hesitantly held out her hands to take it.

“Yes, and also this.” You passed the box to her and removed her jacket, handing it to her too.

Elisa was stunned for a moment, the warm outdoor lamp your house had made the scene in front of her look straight from a movie. The way your hair danced around your shoulders, the way you were removing her jacket. She quietly accepted it, opening her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

You turned around to open your door, giving her a small wave and closed it behind you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hoping your parents won't barge in and ask you a million questions. When they didn't, you sneakily walked on the stairs to your room, but what you saw made you scream.

“WHAT THE FUCK SAM!” You almost tripped down the stairs from your heels. Sam was on the top of the stairs with a sly smirk, she had seen the whole encounter of you and Elisa. She was surprised to see you hand out those chocolates, because you refused to give her a piece of them from how special they are to you. So why did you give them to Elisa? She also saw the jacket exchange, and the way Elisa was standing there admiring you.

You took a deep breath, turning around to glance at your parents to see if they heard you. Your dad gave you a disappointed glance, and your mom showed you a hand gesture that means ‘wait’ (which means you're basically fucked but she can't do anything since your friend was there).

Sam pulled your arm and dragged you to your room, she shut the door with the key and jumped on your bed, “how was prom with Paul?”

You awkwardly walked towards your closet, pulling out a pajama set as you thought of a way to respond, “um… did you not see my message?”

“Oh I saw it,” she replied, “I was just wondering if he redeemed himself at the end? I heard that you won prom queen, but I don't see you with the tiara.”

You turned to look at her, “can you leave so I can change?”

She nodded and left the room. She was waiting for you to say what happened, she still didn't understand how you came home with Elisa while also wearing her jacket. She hoped you'd be honest and tell her the truth. Sam had gotten 3 calls from Paul asking where you went, he said he was embarrassed that you had ditched him and how he had to receive the crown alone. He also asked where were you, but she didn't have an answer to that, she didn't know either. And when she tried to call and text, it seemed as though you were ignoring her (now she thinks you were too busy with Elisa).

You opened the door to your room as your left hand was wiping the makeup on your face, “I'm too tired to speak, but I basically ran away ‘cuz I didn't want to be around Paul.”

“And who dropped you home? Did you get a ride?” Sam was pretending as if she didn't see you outside, and you glanced at her weirdly. Did she see us? Would Elisa be okay if Sam knew about this? It was nothing, right? She was just being a kind person.

“No, I didn't get any rides.” You responded, the third makeup wipe is now stained black from the mascara.

“Yeah no ride because she doesn't have a dick.” She snorted as she snacked on the barbecue flavored chips.

Your hands stopped rubbing your eyes as you turned to look at her with an open mouth, “Sam! What even was that?”

“Why didn't you tell me that you and Elisa ran away together? I thought we were besties.” Sam had tried so hard to not be hurt by this, but the both of you were friends for a while. And she thought you liked her by now to tell her everything. She understood why you wouldn't tell her about your crush, but why not tell her about this? Aren't you both friends?

“Sam, you are my best friend… I was just worried you'd see it differently.” You exhaled as you sat down next to her, holding her hand now that you've cleaned your face.

“See it like what?” She knew what you meant, but she needed you to say it out loud, maybe then it will be easier for you to speak about your feelings out loud.

“Sam… you brought up me looking pretty enough to attract Elisa, and I thought that maybe you would make jokes when you find out that she walked me home.” You looked down at your bare feet, they were sore from all the walking you've done tonight and you just need a rest.

“Okay… I'm sorry I did make jokes, but I just wanna know what happened for you to even gift her those chocolates!”

You groaned loudly, covering your face with a nearby pillow, “She left prom to walk me home! That's the least I could've done.”

She laid in your bed, removing the covers to get cozy. “And she gave you her jacket, she's really sweet you know? She's just a little awkward around you.” She can feel herself dozing off as she mumbled.

“Well, that's the reason why I don't think she likes me…But Sam, today I was really happy,” You smiled as you thought about what happened today, “She did everything she can to make me feel safe and comfortable.”

You laid next to Sam and waited for her response, but you could hear her light snores and she turned around to pull you into her, just how the both of you usually cuddle in sleepovers.

You couldn't sleep, just smiling at what happened with Elisa.

“Shit! Did she walk home alone?!” You shrieked as you stood up and took your phone from the bedside table, but you froze when you realized that you didn't have any of Elisa's socials. You went to Facebook and searched up her name. You stumbled on around 15 accounts until you found an account with a username ‘delameida5elel’ and the picture was Elisa holding a football with Fleur and Marie. You pressed on it and found a recent post,

Prom would've been better if I knew how to socialize around pretty girls :((

You froze, reading the sentence over and over to check if your eyes were fooling you. Elisa actually likes girls? And what does she mean it would've been better if she knew how to socialize around pretty girls? Is she saying that today wasn't good and she wanted to talk to actual pretty girls? Elisa didn't have fun today with you and hoped she'd be with pretty girls, unlike you.

Your happy spirits suddenly went down feeling like a sad deflated balloon. At least she's home safely or else she wouldn't post that.

You threw the phone at the table nearby and laid stiffly back. Sam's arms came back around you, but you pushed them away and shuffled all the way to the end of the bed and turned away from her.

I fucked up.

----

~does your mom ever pull the italian hand and you panic and pray?

~Google maps app was created just 6 days before prom😝

guys let me know what you think i need to hear your thoughts

#elisa de almeida #élisa de almeida #woso x reader #elisa de almedia fluff #elisa de almeida x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #nel's writings #psg feminines x reader #fanfics #woso #woso imagine #nel recommends fanfiction

52 notes · View notes

lunajay33 · 3 days

Text

Change Part.6

•🎀🩰🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.5

•Masterlist•

It had been a week since the incident with the walker, Daryl refused to let me go out alone again and I didn’t blame him I didn’t want to be alone either it was too risky, it wasn’t just my life in danger, I had a baby to worry about and I refused to leave Daryl alone in a world like this, I rolled over in bed admiring his sleeping form, his hair all crazy, I love him so much and the fact that our family was just about to begin tore something from me that I always dreamed about

“Mornin” he grumbled as I ran my hand through his hair

“Sorry did I wake you?”

“Nah I was up a while ago just waiting for ya”

“Mmmm” I didn’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or what but my mood was at an all time low and I didn’t wanna drag Daryl down too

“What’re ya thinking about” he asked as he squeezed my hip

“Nothing”

“Angel I know ya like the back of my hand, I know when yer over thinking”

I sighed hating that he’s always been able to crack me out of my shell he shown me time and time again that I can trust him with anything, he’ll we’re having a baby together why shouldn’t I tell him

“Just been thinking where my family are now, I know I haven’t talked to them in like a year but I still wonder if they’re even alive”

“The last time you talked to them they called ya a selfish slut, ya shouldn’t worry about them, all they’ve ever done was hurt ya angel, we got our own family now, one that’ll love ya more than they ever could” Daryl wasn’t much of a big speech kinda guy but when he knew I needed comforting he pushed that side of him away to be there for me

“Yeah I guess you’re right, like usual” I said laughing as he pulled me closer so I could lay my head in his chest

I was sat in the living room curled in a blanket reading the new twilight book hearing the rain patter against the windows, the smell of a roast in the oven that Daryl had put in, right when I got to the part where Edward was leaving Bella the phone rang, Daryl at my side handed it over scoffing at the caller ID

Caller ID: Jackson L/N

“This can’t be good” I sighed clicking answer and putting it on speaker

“Hello?”

“You need to come home” not even a hi or nothing

“Why? None of you have bothered to contact me in months what is it this time?”

“Dad lost his job, mom and dad need money for rent” I could see the anger written all over Daryl’s face

“Jackson I have my own life now, I can’t be helping you guys out ever time you need money, I have bills of my own and I don’t wanna waste my money on people who don’t even care about me”

“Are you serious right now?” He asked enraged

“Why can’t you help, you’re the one that got that football scholarship, I had to work my way through university and I’m still paying off student loans, plus Daryl and I have to pay for our house and car and motorcycle”

“You know what this is done, you’re out of this family for good this time, mom and dad should’ve gotten rid of you when they had the chance you selfish slut” the phone disconnected signalling he hung up

I looked at Daryl feeling my chest tighten, I never wanted this I was never the golden child in their eyes, I only ever felt like I mattered when Daryl came into my life

“He’s lucky this was over the phone or I’d beat him into the ground” Daryl groaned rubbing my legs over the blanket

“Why am I never good enough for them?”

“Ya got that wrong Angel, they ain’t good enough for you”

As I sat outside eating breakfast Daryl and Merle got ready for the day, Merle was going to Atlanta with some people from the camp and Daryl was going out hoping to find a deer he’s been tracking for a while

“I gotta go now Angel” Daryl said as he stung his crossbow over his shoulder

“But I don’t want you to go” I whined getting up to wrap my arms around him

“I know but I’ll be back later this evening just try and stay around the other, don’t want another problem like last week” he said placing a kiss to my cheek

“Fine just promise me you’ll be safe out there, that you’ll come back to me”

“Promise”

He picked up some extra arrows and disappeared through the tree line

“Ya got him wrapped around yer lil finger don’t ya” Merle mocked

“Come on Merle can’t you just be happy that he’s happy, I know you don’t like me much but you’re my family now and I’m yours, plus I’m carrying your niece or nephew can’t we just be cordial for once” I said exhausted from his constant bickering

“Don’t matter ta me ya got knocked up, ya made my brother soft and yer gonna see ya ruined his life” he picked up his weapons and left the camp site leaving with the Atlanta crew

“God when do I catch a break?” I sat back down in the camp chair not noticing someone sit next to me until they talked

“You okay sweetie?” It was Lori

“It’s just Merle, always a pain in my ass, just been thinking about what’s gonna happen now with the baby and everything I’m just scared” I looked at here to see if she’d give me advice but here eyes were wide

“What?” I asked confused

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah, I guess we never really mentioned it”

“You know when I found out I was pregnant with Carl, I was a wreck I was young and scared and didn’t know what to do with myself, but the moment I saw him curled up in my arms so little without a care in the world, I knew what I had to do to protect him from harm, everything will be okay” she smiled patting my back

“Thanks, that helps a bit I just wish it wasn’t in these circumstances”

“How far along are you?”

“About 4 months now, I’ve been taking my prenatals and everything”

“Well I’m always here if you have questions about the baby or changes you go through, but I have to go cut Carls hair”

Something clicked, maybe since this was a new start for Daryl and I and with the baby in this new world maybe I needed a new look, something to liven my spirits

“Umm Lori, would you be up for cutting my hair too!” I asked as I ran up next to her as she walked towards her camp

“I’d love to”

I sat next to Shane as Lori worked on Carls hair, he couldn’t stop complaining but it was adorable

“One day you’re gone wish you had her cutting your hair” Shane said laughing

“Doubt it”

“Trust me Carl, one day you’ll crave to be have these moments again with your mom, it may not seem like it but you will” I said seeing a little smile on his rosy cheeks

“Alright you’re all done” Lori said as she swiped off his extra hair on his shirt

I sat down in front of her as she wrapped a towel around my shoulders

“Alright how short do you want it?” My hair was down to my mid lower back

“How about just below my shoulder”

“That’s quit a chop”

“Well I need it”

She held my hair back and it a split second it was chopped, she straightened out some uneven pieces and it was done

“Well what do you think?”

“It’s really nice Mrs. Dixon!” Carl said with a beaming smile

“Well thank you but you can call me y/n sweetie” he was adorable I hope my child is as sweet as him

“It suits you perfect dear”

“Thank you! I should go clean some clothes done at the quarry, if you need anything I’ll be down there!”

I spent most of the evening down at the quarry cleaning and scribbling mine and daryls dirty clothes, laying them out on some rocks to let them dry, meanwhile dipping my feet in the cool water helping to sooth my ankles that have been getting a bit swollen

I looked around hoping no one was near, I haven’t been able to get a good proper bath in a while so I stripped down my clothes leaving only my bra and panties, submerging myself in the lake floating belly up watching the clouds pass by just like the time Daryl took me here

“Daryl Dixon did you drag me out here just to see me naked?” I asked smirking as he started taking off his shoes and pants

“Come on it’s nice out yer gonna love it” he said as he was stepping into the lake

I bit my lip feeling that thrill shoot through me, I stripped to just my panties and bra, I walked over taking his hand

“Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?”

“Ya sure?” I knew he was embarrassed about his scars but they weren’t his fault

“You know they don’t bother me, I love you for you, not what happen to you” I said squeezing his hand reassuringly

He lifted it over his head and threw it back over to my clothes pill

“Come on Dixon show me how great this’ll be, better not let me drown” I laughed as I dragged him in

“Still can’t believe yer my girl”

“And I’ll be your girl until you’re sick of me”

“Never”

“Well well well what do we have here?” I heard behind me as I pulled on my clothes after drying off

“What do you want Ed?” I groaned feeling that touch of fear he instilled in the women of the camp

“Showing yourself down here for the whole camp, you’re asking for it” he said stepping closer

“Leave me alone Ed”

“Ya ain’t got your man around who’s gonna stop me?”

“Don’t you touch me or you’ll be sorry”

He stepped closer squeezing my jaw now face to face

“Like I said ain’t no one gonna stop me” he said as his other hand started to wander down my arm

Before he could get any further he was ripped away Shane throwing him to the ground

“Touch her or anyone else again Ed and I’ll beat ya to death I swear, come on y/n” I gathered up all the clothes I washed and ran to Shane’s side as he lead me safely back to the camp

“Thanks, I didn’t know anyone was around”

“Ain’t your fault, Ed’s one sick man you stay away from him, stay with the group until Daryl or Merle gets back”

I sat down next to Amy folding up the laundry still to shaken up to have conversation that’s when a car alarm was ringing around the quarry, the group was back and it felt a little better knowing Merle would be here while Daryl was gone, Shane shut off the car alarm and others filtered out of a cargo truck

Lori and Carl had their moment with their “back from the dead” father and husband which was incredibly heart warming but then I realized something

“Where’s Merle?”

Please please please give me some ideas for this story going forward🩷 How should I incorporate the ballerina story line into the new world??:)

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @minnie-min @writer-ann-artist @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove

43 notes · View notes