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amhrosina · 1 year

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Honey Come Home (Frank Castle x f!Reader)

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A/N: I think I wrote this super self indulgent piece because I was definitely wishing I had someone to come defend/save me when I was in a similar situation with a family member of mine. For all of my friends who are survivors of abuse, I love you, I'm proud of you, and Frank Castle would defend you with his life if he could!!!! (Also a huge thank you to @wheredidiputmyfish for beta reading :))) )

Summary: It's been years since Frank's heard from you, but the second you call and ask him for help, he hurries to defend you from your abusive and toxic boyfriend.

(Warnings: SUPER TRIGGER WARNING FOR DESCRIPTIONS OF ABUSE!!!!!, it's not directly spelled out but its alluded to and the aftermath is heavily discussed, canon typical frank stuff, descriptions of violence, frank goes all punisher on your shitty boyfriend, some PTSD, ex-best friends to lovers, references to frank and reader's past, angsty as hell, short lovey-dovey smut at the end, happy ending)

Frank woke with a start at the sound of his ringtone chiming from the front pocket of his backpack, tucked away and mostly forgotten about between the rare phone calls from Matt and Madani. It was so late in the evening that most people would consider it early in the morning. Whether it was late or early, it was certainly not a great time to be calling someone. Frank thought about pointing this out to whoever was waiting for him to pick up his phone, but his annoyance quickly faded as he read the name flashing across the screen.

A crack, deep down in his soul, ached as he read your name. It had been years since he’d spoken to you, and even longer since he’d seen you. The last time he’d spoken to you, he’d said some things he regretted, things that haunted him to this day, things that he’d never forgive himself for saying to you of all people.

There was a deep well of history between the two of you, and though Frank had been decent enough at pretending it didn’t exist, the memories pushed to the forefront of his mind, playing like a montage in an old movie. Stolen glances between chemistry equations in high school, the subtle press of Frank’s hand against your back when he’d walk you home from campus in college, the touches that lasted just a little too long to be considered friendly when he was on leave. You were his, and he was yours, though that wasn’t entirely true, either. The history he shared with you was a compilation of ‘almosts’ that were usually too painful to think about for longer than five seconds.

And now you were calling him. After three years of silence, you were calling him at this ungodly hour, and he was struggling to gain function in his brain, lungs, chest, fingers, entire being. If he didn’t answer soon, it would likely go to the voicemail that Frank had yet to set up even though it had been literal years since he bought the phone. The idea of potentially missing the sound of your voice after so long without it knocked a semblance of sense into him.

He clicked the screen and raised it to his ear, praying that this wasn’t someone’s idea of a cruel joke. The sound of your subdued, ragged breaths carried through the speaker and hit him directly in the chest. For a moment, Frank said nothing, afraid he would break whatever spell had convinced you to call him after so long. Then, because the thought of not hearing your voice was so unbearable, he murmured your name into the phone.

“Frank?”

You had whispered it, but it echoed loudly in Frank’s head. It wasn’t the voice of the confident, radiant person he’d known so many years before. His chest tightened, and he gripped the phone a little tighter as he murmured your name again.

“I didn’t think you’d answer.” You revealed, still whispering, but a little relieved.

“I’ll always answer if it’s you.” He blurted out, immediately cringing at his inability to filter his thoughts before they exited his mouth. “Are you okay?”

“Frank, I need your hel-.”

You were cut off by a crashing sound that made you yelp into the phone. Frank listened intently to the sound of your cries as someone pounded against a door nearby. Fear, anger, and unabashed love filled his chest until he couldn’t stand still any longer. He pressed the phone inbetween his cheek and shoulder, pulling on whatever articles of clothing were within reach.

“Frankie.” You pleaded, your voice so broken and cracked that Frank could barely breathe at the sound of it.

“I’m coming.” He murmured, pulling his boots on with fervor. “I’m coming, baby. Can you send me your location, sweetheart? Where are you?”

A buzz rattled against his cheek, and he swore when he read the address you’d sent. This whole time, for the years that he’d spent alone, miserable, and missing you, you were living less than twenty minutes away. A male shout in the background of your muffled cries fueled his anger even further.

“Who’s trying to hurt you, baby?” He was already exiting out the back of his building, running toward the storage facility that doubled as his garage.

“He’s my,” you paused, sniffling, “He was my boyfriend. He’s not anymore.”

“Do you have a weapon? Anything to protect yourself until I get there?” He clenched his jaw at the thought of you being hurt.

“I locked myself in the bathroom.” You whimpered as another sound crashed through the bathroom. “Please hurry.” You begged.

Frank’s jaw was so tightly clenched that he was surprised he hadn’t broken his teeth.

“I’m on my way, baby. I’ll be there soon. I promise.”

“He’s dangerous, Frank.” You warned, and Frank’s chest ached with the realization that you were worried about him when you were the one in danger.

“He’s not as dangerous as me.” Frank replied, clenching his fists.

Frank clambered into his truck and backed into the abandoned street. The navigation said he’d arrive in twenty-one minutes. Frank made it in ten.

“I’m around the corner, sweetheart. I’m almost there.” Frank was pushing ninety in his truck. “What’s he doing now?”

“He’s-” You started, and abruptly stopped.

“He’s what, baby?” Frank pushed the gas pedal all the way down.

A sudden crash sounded, and Frank held his breath. Then, you began screaming, and Frank saw red. He was out of the truck and hauling ass up the sidewalk to the old, ramshackle house faster than anyone should be physically able to move. The sound of your screams echoed through the phone, but the closer he got to the front door, the more he could hear it bellowing outside of the house.

He didn’t hesitate to kick the door down, instantly spying your hunched form as your dickhead ex-boyfriend tried to tug you out of the bathroom. Both turned to look at Frank as he took in his surroundings.

Your face, your beautiful and radiant and glowing face, was littered with cuts and bruises. The right side of your jaw was swollen and tinged in dark blue and black. A cut that swept across your top and bottom lip bled profusely onto the tile beneath you.

“What the fuck, man?”

Frank would kill him. Frank would tear him apart. He would–

“Frankie.” Your sigh of relief was melded with a guttural sob.

The very-soon-to-be-dead man swung around, eyeing you.

“This is who you called, you stupid bitch?” He rolled his eyes and squeezed the hand that was wrapped around your arm. A whimper left your lips, and it took everything in Frank not to murder the man right then and there. But he would not let you see that – the violence that he was capable of – the violence that tainted the blood on his hands, dooming him to a life without remorse.

“Take your fucking hands off her.” Frank demanded, stepping forward until he was towering over the man. The man eyed him warily but didn’t let go. Frank almost laughed at his idiocy. “You’re not gonna want to know what’s gonna happen if you don’t listen to me.”

The man dropped your arm, and you sagged to the ground, inching across the floor until you were behind Frank’s broad frame. Frank didn’t let his eyes stray from his target as he knelt, pressing the keys to his truck into your palm.

“Go.” He whispered. “I’ll be done in a sec.”

“But Frank, I-”

“Go.”

You crawled to your feet, limping toward the front door. Frank stayed perfectly still, imagining every awful thing he was going to do to the man that hurt you, until the sound of the truck door shutting indicated that you were safely away from the violence that haunted this house.

Frank was on the guy in half a breath, pushing him so hard into the wall that the drywall cracked under the pressure. He pressed his palm up against the guy’s jaw, slamming his head into the wall again.

“What? Now that you’re up against a real man, you don’t want to fight?” Frank sneered, tightening his hold on the man’s jaws. “Only a coward hits women.”

Frank’s fist connected with his face, spraying blood across the tile beneath them. The guy crumpled to the floor, and Frank followed, hitting him again and again and again, until the man was unrecognizable. The man wheezed, barely breathing, but Frank wasn’t done.

He slid the knife from his back pocket and plunged it into the man’s stomach, knowing immediately that he would never regret this blood being on his hands. He leaned in and whispered a promise that he would keep until the day he died.

“If by some miracle you survive this, you better hope to God I don’t find you. You think this is bad? It could be so much worse. You never deserved her.”

Frank pulled the blade from the guy’s stomach and wiped the blood on the man’s sleeve. Finally satisfied with his work, he made his way back toward the truck that held the most important thing he’d ever loved inside.

The drive back to Frank’s place was calmer, now that the immediate threat had been eradicated. You hadn’t said much of anything, instead curling into yourself, pressing your face into your palms and quietly crying. Frank didn’t know what to do, unsure of how to act around you after so long. It’d been so easy to be around you before – like breathing, he sometimes thought – but now, after everything you’d both been through, he struggled to find solid footing.

“Are you taking me home?” you asked, lifting your puffy eyes to meet his across the truck cabin.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded once. “To my place. Is that okay?” He added after a moment.

“Yeah.” You looked at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. “I’m sorry if I-”

“Don’t apologize for a damn thing. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You met Frank’s gaze. He was resolute in his statement, daring you to defy him. For a moment, the soft look in your eyes as you looked at him was enough to strip him to his roots. He felt nothing but an insurmountable love to have you back in his life again, even if it was under horrifying circumstances, even if it was only for tonight. He would accept any crumbs you offered of yourself and he’d cherish them forever.

“What do I do now?” The question was barely audible, almost as if you were asking yourself more than you were asking him. The softness of your tone sent an ache through Frank’s tight chest.

“Stay tonight. Shower, eat, rest. We’ll figure out what happens next tomorrow, okay?”

You nodded but didn’t vocalize a response. When Frank looked over at you, he realized it was because you had begun crying again. The man hadn’t suffered enough, Frank thought. No amount of suffering would make up for the beautiful, broken girl crying in his truck right now.

Frank rested his head in his hands and listened. He listened to the sound of you moving around the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting, and the sound of you hissing as the water pelted the cuts and bruises littering your body. His jaw ached from clenching it so much tonight. He stood, looked around for something to keep his hands busy, adjusted the curtains by the window, and sat again.

The unfamiliar territory between the two of you was unnerving. He didn’t know what to say or how to act around you anymore. When you’d climbed down from the passenger seat earlier, he’d been so afraid to startle you that all he could do was hover his hands around you just in case you slipped or needed his help. He hadn’t felt your touch since he’d pressed the truck keys into your palm back at the house. It felt like reaching for something that was just out of range, and he felt hollow when he thought about it for too long. Hence, the nervous pacing.

When the shower water shut off, Frank’s stomach jolted. He couldn’t figure out why he was so nervous. It was you for Christ's sake. At one point, you’d been his best friend, and at every other point, you’d been the woman he had been in love with since the dawn of time. But still, the nerves were an unsettling wave of butterflies in his stomach.

You cracked the door open and heat from the shower washed over Frank like a tidal wave. Or maybe it was the fact that you were dressed from head to toe in his clothes. It didn’t make you his, but Frank loved the sight of it, all the same.

“Did you find everything?” Frank asked, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say, except that he loved you, and that would not be vocalized right now.

“Yeah, Frankie.” A small smile crossed your face when you met his gaze. He saw through your mask. You could not hide from him. “Thank you for...everything. You really didn’t have to do all this.”

Frank scoffed. “Of course, I did. I would do anything for you. You know that.”

“I didn’t.” you started, tugging at your sleeves, “Know that, I mean. When I called earlier tonight, I didn’t know what would happen. If you would come or not. After...everything that went down, you know?”

Frank knew what you meant, though he hadn’t wanted to revisit that memory tonight.

“Listen,” he started, shaking his head, “I didn’t mean any of the stuff I said to you. I was jealous and hurt, but that’s not an excuse.”

“It’s fine, Frank.” You waved it away, like it was nothing.

“No, really. I’m sor-”

“I forgave you as soon as-”

“Would you just let me apologize? Please?”

You smiled, a real genuine smile, and it sent those butterflies in Frank’s stomach into a flurry. It was the first time he’d seen you smile in so long. He couldn’t help himself from grinning along with you.

“Sorry.” You murmured, grin widening.

“That’s my line.” Frank retorted.

“Sorry, again.” You snorted, and the laughter that bubbled out of you sounded like a thirty-piece orchestra in Frank’s ears. He could get drunk off your laughter, relishing in the warmth it brought him.

When he looked at you again, a pained expression played on your face.

“What is it?” he asked, softening his voice into a gentle murmur.

“I can’t remember the last time I laughed.” You shrugged.

Frank clenched his jaw at the thought of your ex-boyfriend. He eyed the black and blue bruises that marked your skin.

“Was tonight the first time he hit you?”

Your gaze locked with his, and he couldn’t stop himself from inching closer to you. He lightly wrapped his hands around yours, and the brush of your skin against his lit a spark so deep within him that his knees nearly buckled. You hadn’t responded to his question, and he couldn’t figure out if that was for your sake or his.

“No one,” he hardened his features for a moment, a gentle reminder of who he was and what he would do to the people that hurt you, “will ever hurt you again. You hear me? I don’t care who it is. They touch you, they die.”

An unbending will burned in his gaze, and you slowly nodded your head. Finally, your gaze lowered to where your hands were intertwined, noticing the broken skin over his knuckles.

“Did you kill him?” You asked, voice so soft Frank had to strain his neck to hear you.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” He replied, tugging his hands away from yours. Your delicate, intrinsic softness would not be subjected to his violent exploits. You tugged his hands back toward you, eyeing him with a harsh glare.

“Don’t pull away.” You pleaded. “Just this once.”

Frank warily placed his hands back into yours. The stark difference between his calloused, bruised, and ugly hands and your soft, innocent ones could’ve been a baroque painting. The thought jolted through him before he could stop it from forming. He did not want to taint your innocence with his blood-soaked hands.

“Stop that.” You chastised, eyeing him knowingly. You had always been so great at reading what he was thinking. “You are capable of more than just violence, Frank Castle. And you saved my life tonight. You deserve everything you’ve ever wished for.”

Frank lifted his gaze at your last sentence, unable to stop his eyes from wandering toward the person he’d always wished for but was too chicken to do anything about.

“What’s that look mean?” You asked, knowingly.

This was dangerous territory. You were towing a line that you and Frank had circled around since you’d met each other. Would tonight be another ‘almost’ to add to his endless cycle of memories with you? This was dangerous territory, but Frank didn't care anymore.

“You know what it means.” He murmured, swallowing thickly. “What it’s always meant.”

You didn’t reply for a moment, watching his expression morph from despair to something different, something heavier.

“Yeah.” You finally said, inching your body closer to his. You were so close now that your chests were touching, and your lips were mere inches apart. “I know.”

“Yeah?” He asked. He was so close now that he could smell the faint scent of his body wash on your skin.

“Yeah.” Your chin dipped in a nod, and Frank was there to meet it.

His lips captured yours in a kiss that melted away every bad thing that had ever happened between the two of you. You moaned into the kiss, allowing his tongue to brush over yours and into your mouth. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you fully against him.

It might’ve been ten minutes or two hours – you didn’t know or care – but the kiss deepened, and suddenly you were pulling Frank’s shirt up his torso and over his head. He gently led you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed and you flopped down, pulling him down with you.

Your lips remained connected as he undressed you, pulling every article of clothing from your body at an agonizing pace. When he finally pulled away to unbutton his jeans, the sight of yellowing bruises across your stomach paused his movements.

“Not the first time, then?” He lightly brushed his fingers over the old bruises. The sight of them made him sick.

“No.” You replied, voice soft. “Not the first time.”

Frank sighed deeply, reminding himself that you were no longer in danger. He had saved you, and no one would ever touch you again.

“Why’d you call me tonight?” He asked. It was a nagging question that had been bouncing around in his head since his phone had first rung so many hours before. There was probably a better time to ask, but he couldn’t help himself. If he’d been hitting you for this long, why’d it take you so long to call him for help?

You looked up at him with such immense sadness that his chest reflectively tightened in response.

“Because I missed you.” Your voice cracked when you said it. “And because I love you. And because I knew you’d keep me safe, even if you were still mad at me.”

Frank looked down at you, unflinching in his gaze, and nodded. He was afraid if he spoke, he might let out the guttural sob that had formed deep in his stomach. He surged forward, pressing his lips to yours again.

It was a hurried flurry of movement – the kiss had quickly developed into something more – and soon, Frank was pushing himself in, and in, and in to your core. You were warm and wet, and Frank was fighting for his life as you stretched around his hard cock. When he finally began thrusting deep inside of you, the only coherent thought that he could muster were the three words he had been so terrified to say to you all these years.

“I love you.” He said as he thrusted into you. “I’ll always protect you. I love you so much.”

You widened your legs, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you. He chanted your name like a mantra under his breath as he continued to drive himself into you. The look on your face was so incredibly intense that he had to shut his eyes for a moment and block out the feeling of your wet cunt clenching around his cock. A soft hand pressed against his cheek startled his eyes open.

“You’re mine. And I’m yours.” You murmured, and it undid you both. Frank could barely hold himself above you, arms wobbling as he came so deep inside you that he was sure no one had ever coated your walls so thoroughly. You clenched around him, and it was dizzying. He’d never felt so full after giving all of himself away to someone.

He collapsed next to you, cradling your head in his hands as you both returned to Earth. The sun crept across the room as the rest of New York woke for the day, unaware that Frank Castle’s entire world had just shifted in his tiny apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. He gazed at your fluttering eyelids, close to sleep now that the events of the night had caught up to you. He didn’t mind. You were here, and he was holding you in his arms, and you were his, and he was yours, and he didn’t mind it one bit.

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pupmkincake2000 · 2 months

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Some thoughts.

Okay, Halsin, what the hell?

When I was playing Gale origin, I didn't know what lines to choose so I pushed any friendly dialogue button I saw so it felt okay when Halsin offered me to be his lover. Everything I had to do was to refuse his offer. This time (playing Astarion origin) I was extremely careful and didn't choose a single line that could trigger such a dialogur, even friendship ones. I did not ask him about his past (lovers) or whether he has potential partners, I only talked about helping to save Thaniel, but Halsin still offers me a polyamorous relationship and sex! Hinting that he went to Baldur's Gate with us because of... us, right after a fight with Ketheric. With Gale it felt normal because, again, I didn't know what lines to pick. But with Astarion it feels at least strange.

I mean, why? I didn't cross the line when talking to him this time. When I played Gale origin, I wasn't sure what lines would trigger his proposal, but now I've carefully avoided anything undesirable and yet he still offers me sex! God, I do love this bear, he is the walking embodiment of everything I could love in a man, both his appearance and personality is a masterpiece, except for polyamory, because it is not my cup of tea, not in this case at least, but now it is his behavior that makes me feel disapointed in him. And what infuriates me most is the confidence with which he says I also feel attracted to him, although - again! - I carefully avoided any potentially dangerous lines that could trigger his confession. What's going on with this character? So to be just friendly with him is enough to get these scenes?

Since my Astarion is in a relationship with Gale, I decided to look at his (Gale's ) reaction if he was offered such an open relationship. I decided to try different lines and it really made me smile that Gale’s first thought about adding a third person to the relationship was a child.

Also, as I thought, Gale is monogamous in a relationship and is not ready to share. I like that he speaks openly about it and to some extent even with anger that he does not agree to this, in fact, that’s why I like him.

And it was really painful to choose a line about breaking up, even if it was just to see his reaction. I never want to see that pain on his face again. This only lasts a few moments, but his disappointment in love, in the very concept of relationships, is very palpable.

I think that after such a “betrayal” he wouldn't soon decide to open his heart to someone or would not dare at all. I think that's why I like him so much. And that's why I like their relationship with Astarion. Gale is ready to give his all for someone he loves, and Astarion (at least this is very much in his character after so many years of hardship and suffering) will tightly hold on to what he considers his.

Of course, Gale can be persuaded to have sex with the drow twins (I checked this too), but I consider this a flaw on the part of the developers. You may not agree with me, but I think it isn't in his character.

Because a person who so vehemently argued that two lovers should be dedicated only to each other would hardly agree to such a thing. Same story with Astarion. People say he agrees to have sex with the twins once he's completely free of Cazador, but the narrator's words make it abundantly clear that he's still not into it: "his mind is miles away."

And the fact that Gale has to be persuaded… his first reactions tell a lot. This is clearly not in his character too. I would never believe that a person who kicks the cat out of the bedroom while changing clothes would easily agree to such a thing.

Most likely, the opportunity to persuade him to do something like this is necessary for the variability of the game, no more. In addition, Gale leaves his copy in a room that just watches this makingout, he takes no part in it. People might assume, of course, that he shouldn't/cannot have sex because of the orb, but there was nothing stopping him from sleeping with Astarion before they reached Baldur's Gate. However, it seems strange to me that after this he does not break up with Astarion/Tav/whoever or at least discusses the thing. It’s probably still a flaw on the part of the developers, because Gale doesn’t react to the situation at all. And this despite the fact that he only recently screamed about how he categorically does not accept such things.

Therefore, I believe that in order not to mislead people, the developers need to stick to the character's personality as they were intended. If a character is meant to be monogamous, then why do they need lines that suit polyamorous characters only? I understand that the game is variable, but this is not about the plot, but about the characters, whose personality has already been developed and established.

Just saying.

#bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #gale x astarion #gale of waterdeep #astarion x gale #galestarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion romance #halsin #larian studios #larian #gale dekarios #bloodweave

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williamswifey · 1 year

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i just came up with this and i could DIE i feel smart. (i also haven’t done an ask on here in a FAT minute so sorry if i do it weird??) reader is a worker (camera, makeup, etc. just some sort of tech element) behind the scenes on the set for tlou and meets bella and they become friends and then more :)))) can be as short or long as you’d like!!

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐘 - 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐘

pairing ; bella ramsey x fem!reader

summary ; when you had taken a summer job as a makeup artist for the up and coming show the last of us, you expected to make money—but you didn’t expect to find love.

content warnings ; swearing,

a/n ; i was SO excited to do this request omgomg, i might’ve gotten a little carried away and accidentally made this suuper long, part two is on the way!! i hope you enjoy this miniseries :)

p.s. also im still working to get my ask box in my bio, but requests are open and feel free to submit asks <3

masterlist

you had always had a fascination with makeup—ever since you were little. whether it was practicing eyeshadow in your bedroom when you were eleven years old…or making a buck from your friends when they asked you to do makeup for the school dance.

eventually, as you matured, your talent matured with you. you were humble about your skills—always calling it a ‘simple minded hobby’, or ‘a way to relieve your stress’.

it was springtime, two weeks before summer vacation—you’d be starting college in the fall; and you were sitting at the kitchen table with your mother, going over potential internships to spend your summer.

“what about a makeup artist?” your mother commented, taking a sip of her orange juice. you looked at her blankly, before sighing.

“mom, i appreciate the idea—i really do…but come on—where would we even find somewhere that had makeup artist internships?”

“i found you a job as a makeup artist in canada,” your mom spoke up, sparking your interest as you looked up from your phone, “sure, it’s a little far away from home…but it’s good practice for college. plus, you’d be making a little money on the side, it’s a win-win situation.”

“in canada?” you asked, confused , “mom, what?”

“it’s for a new show, the last of us. an old friend of mine reached out, personally asked if you’d be interested.”

the last of us. the name sounded familiar. you shrugged, feeling flattered at the thought someone personally asked your mother if you’d be interested.

“sure,” you agreed, “that sounds fun.”

***

three weeks later, you, your backpack, and your suitcase had arrived in alberta, canada.

you were staying in a hotel room nearby the sets, and you couldn’t wait to get off your feet. you had ordered a shared-uber, trying to save as much money as you could. you’d be spending the entire summer here, and the point was to make money—not lose it.

you stood on the sidewalk as a black car drove up to you, as you read the license plate, recognizing the car as your uber. you piled your things into the trunk, stepping inside.

“y/n l/n?” the driver asked, and you nodded your head in confirmation.

“yup,” you said, “that’s me.”

“it’s nice to meet you,” the driver said. wow. this driver was much much friendlier than the ones at home.

“we’re waiting for the other rider, so hang tight and we’ll get you to your destination in no time.”

you thanked the driver, placing your headphones in your ears. you scrolled throughout your spotify playlists, ultimately deciding on the superache album by conan gray.

it wasn’t until minutes later when the other rider arrived, and your jaw dropped. you suddenly felt insecure in your airport fit—baggy sweats without makeup, messy hair finishing off your disheveled appearance.

the other rider was the most attractive person you had ever seen. their hair was short, down and mostly covered by a grey hat. they had on a casual pink t-shirt and black jeans. the driver helped them put their bags into the trunk besides yours, and before you knew it they were sliding into the seat next to you.

“hi,” you said, holding out your hand, “i’m y/n.”

the stranger smiled warmly, and it made you even more flustered, if that was even possible. god, you didn’t even know their name yet—you had to get a grip.

“i’m bella,” they said, a british accent as smooth as butter, “pleasure.”

you smiled back, taking out your airpods, placing them back into your case, hoping that your conversation with bella would extend.

“no way,” bella said seconds later, “you listen to conan gray, too?”

you looked at her and blinked.

“sorry—i wasn’t looking over your shoulder,” they quickly said, “i just saw a glance of the album cover, i’d recognize it anywhere.”

you grinned.

“no worries,” you assured. “i take it you’re a fan of him?”

bella nodded enthusiastically, “he’s only my favorite singer of all time.”

you bit your lip excitedly. canada was treating you well already.

“we have so much in common,” you chuckled out.

“that we do,” bella agreed, pausing, “so…are you here visiting friends?”

you shook your head.

“no, i’m actually here for a job. i’m working as a makeup artist.” you said with a smile.

“me too! well—not a makeup artist, but i am here for work.”

“that’s so cool!” you gushed, “what do you do?”

“i’m an actor,” bella said.

your eyes widened. as if they couldn’t get any cooler.

a lack of sleep from the plane ride must’ve been catching up to you, as you hadn’t quite put two-and-two together.

still, you managed to stay awake, talking to bella throughout the entire duration of the car ride. bella was going to lunch to meet a few people, whereas you were going straight to your hotel.

bella had gotten on a phone call minutes before you arrived to your destination, making your goodbye rushed and awkward. you cursed out whoever was on the other end of the call.

it hadn’t been until you were halfway to the elevator of the hotel until you realized you had forgotten to get bella’s phone number.

fuck.

***

you tried to forget about the mysterious bella as the night went on. you had taken a long nap as soon as you arrived to the hotel room—which helped get your mind off things, but the second you were awake, bella was on your mind.

how could you have been so stupid?

you had never met someone that was so easy to talk to before. you had never met someone as cute as bella either. they were the entire package and your forgetful-ass blew it.

still, life had to go on. you pushed aside your disappointment as you began to unpack and officially settle into your room, and you called your parents to alert them you arrived to the hotel safely.

the sun had begun to set, and you were halfway through unpacking. you had made a few calls between the makeup department in the last hour, and they had told you that you needed to bring your own makeup in to set tomorrow—just until the makeup the crew had ordered came in.

while you found the whole ordeal slightly unprofessional, you actually didn’t mind at all—and you were happy to provide. you were just a little annoyed that now you had to pack up all your makeup and bring it to set at 6 in the morning.

right. you had forgotten how early you had to be awake. the car ride was forty-five minutes away, since the set was basically in the middle of nowhere—and you wanted to be able to look nice and presentable.

if you wanted a shot at getting eight hours of sleep, you had to be asleep now.

you brushed your teeth and washed your face faster than you ever had before, and settled into your bed. you were out like a light, and the dreamy stranger from the car ride definitely didn’t appear in your dream.

***

“shit, shit, shit.”

you had slept through your alarm. on the first day.

it was 5:15 when you woke up, and you practically hopped out of bed in shock. screw getting ready for bed fast last night, you had gotten ready today at a record lightning speed.

you were calling yourself another uber as soon as you were dressed, deciding to do your makeup in the car. it was your strong suit, and you weren’t worried about not getting that done in time.

it was 5:30 when you got in your uber. you’d be at work at 6:15…fifteen minutes late, and you’d pray that you wouldn’t get fired before you even walked in.

maybe it was luck—maybe it was something else, but there was practically no traffic on the road since it was so early in the morning, making your arrival 5:57 a.m, not late.

you sighed a breath of relief as you entered the set, a yawn slipping past your lips. you’d make sure to find a time to grab coffee.

it took you a few minutes to find the makeup artist trailer, and when you did…you were in shock. there was a chair, a desk, and a mirror—with your name on it.

you barely had time to bask in the sheer excitement of it all before someone appeared behind you.

“hi,” a voice called out, making your tired figure jump as you turned around.

a woman stood before you. she was much older than you, with blonde curly hair, a warm smile on her face. this must’ve been brianna, your mother’s friend.

“you must be y/n. i’m brianna,” she introduced, “i’m technically your boss—but i don’t care about those kind of labels. i’m just here to help you get settled.”

you nodded and smiled at her, launching into a brief conversation. you learned that the last of us had started shooting a couple of weeks ago, but they had been shooting scenes with characters that you weren’t assigned to.

it was confusing, getting used to everything. it turned out that every makeup artist was assigned to a few specific characters. brianna did the makeup for the actors of joel, sarah, and tess. you were assigned to riley, maria, and ellie.

the actresses for riley and maria wouldn’t be shooting until the next month, so for now—you only had one actor to worry about. you didn’t know the actor who was playing ellie yet. you hadn’t checked your email giving you the names of everyone.

ellie was the main character of the show, you quickly learned. you had received a script of the basic information about the show last week, but you had yet to read it. you made a mental note to check it out when you got back to your hotel room.

like brianna said, the scenes that the show had started shooting hadn’t included ellie’s character yet, and it was the actress’ first day on set—making it yours, too.

everything brianna said felt surreal. you had a real job, and you were only 18. sure, this was temporary, but you promised yourself that this would be the best three months of your life.

as if on cue, you heard footsteps enter the van, and you knew it must’ve been one of the actors preparing to get their makeup done. by you.

you tried not to internally squeal, attempting to prepare yourself to meet whoever would walk through those doors.

you did not expect to see your mystery uber buddy, bella, walk through said doors.

you blinked.

“bella?” you said, as they turned their head towards you, a confused smile quickly making its way up to their face.

“y/n?” they replied back, “holy crap. i knew you were a makeup artist, but i didn’t put two-and-two together.”

you giggled.

“you said you were an actor! that should’ve been easier for me to figure out the details,” you spoke, and bella shrugged.

“both of our mistakes then, i guess,” they began, a small chuckle leaving their lips.

“yeah,” you agreed.

maybe fate had a plan for the two of you after all.

***

the next few weeks had been magical. you saw bella everyday, sometimes for hours at a time. they’d be the first face you saw in the morning and the last face you saw leaving set.

it was nice, having ‘quality time’—as they called it, when you did their makeup. it wasn’t too much, it never was, just little touch ups to make their skin look less oily on camera and small things like that. you didn’t think bella needed any makeup at all.

the longest part of the makeup process for ellie was her scar. you had to do the scar on bella’s eyebrow every morning. that was probably the hardest part. it wasn’t the fact that you had to do it perfectly each time—no, that was easy—it was the fact you had to get extremely close to bella’s face.

they’d always giggle when your noses accidentally brushed together, or if you guys would make eye contact when they opened their eyes—even though you told them not to.

“i can’t help it,” they’d say, “if a pretty girl’s face is right in front of mine, i’ve gotta sneak a peek,” bella was obviously joking—they always were, but that didn’t change the way your face would go beet red as you struggled to find a comeback to their words.

the flirty dynamic of you and bella’s friendship was developed early on. you were easily flustered, and bella was a natural flirt. it was like two missing pieces of a puzzle.

you had the same schedule as bella—since you were their makeup artist, and since you did, the two of you often spent your lunch break together.

there was a small diner near the set, where bella took you almost everyday. you always playfully argued who’d pay.

bella always won, as they had secretly snuck the waitress their credit card before you even got the chance to get out your wallet.

“bella,” you’d say, “you don’t have to do that.”

“think of it as a thank you.” they’d reply.

“a thank you? for what?”

“for hanging out with me.”

you’d roll your eyes.

“we have the same schedule.”

“yeah,” bella would sigh, “but no one is forcing you to be here. you could be anywhere else in the world, but you’re here. with me.”

that would always shut you up pretty quickly.

they had your order memorized—a grilled cheese sandwich and a vanilla milkshake. you had their order of avocado salad memorized too—their meals were easy to remember, as bella was one of the only vegans you knew.

you guys would talk the hour away, most times giggling back and forth about how you dreaded going back to work that afternoon.

but you never dreaded it. not really.

how could you, when your lips got to be inches away from bella’s as you painted on their scar?

you knew pretty early on that bella made you really fucking happy. they brought out a giddiness in you that no one else ever had, they took the weight off of your shoulders.

brianna would tease you everyday about it.

“you guys are so whipped for each other,” she’d say, after bella left the trailer to go film.

you’d blush as you put away the brushes that had been tracing bella’s skin only moments prior as you shook your head.

“no way,” you’d deny, “we’re just friends.”

brianna would laugh, just like she always did.

“friends don’t look at friends that way.”

and as much as you pretended to deny it, god, you hoped she was right.

#bella ramsey #bella ramsey x y/n #bella ramsey blurb #bella ramsey drabble #bella ramsey fic #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey imagine #bella ramsey x fem!reader #bella ramsey x reader #ellie williams x reader #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey imagines

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hoyowomentournament · 28 days

Text

Quarterfinals: Bronya Zaychik vs Collei

(Propaganda under the cut)

Bronya Zaychik:

revamping this bc i feel like it could be better: i love her so so bad <3. canonically disabled lesbian who has trouble with feeling intense emotions BUT HER ENTIRE CHARACTER REVOLVES AROUND LOVE!! whether it be from her romantic love of seele in the early game/manhua (it being the primary motivation for her to take care of herself and a partial reflection of her initial goal of saving seele from the quantam space no matter what); familial love surrounding her (her inheritance of the legacy of reason from welt yang who lost his own father, her guardians love for her being the only reason shes survived for so long even after their death <- many examples of that but the most obvious one being alexandra trading her own life for bronya via misteln, cocolia's relationship with bronya being emphasized as complex in part because of the real love they do feel for each other alongside all the other resentment from cocolia's betrayal of her), literally just. the core of reason and its 300,000 minds being representative of welt joyce's decision to fight for humanity because he loved humanity from that. and all of this from (again!!!) a canonically disabled lesbian! who's character and marginalized identities have been dehumanized over and over again in real life and in the plot! this isn't even mentioning how her entire arc exemplifies honkai's theme of agency!! which makes me sob my eyes out bc bronya hasn't really been allowed agency since she came to cocolia's orphanage!! she was a child mercenary who's lost her home and guardians over and over and over again and forced to care for herself when she was young. her first true point of domestic stability was in cocolia's orphanage (which even then wasn't perfect!! cocolia, for how much she loved her children, still asked them to participate in dangerous experiments!) and when that was threatened because of her loss of seele and her trust in cocolia, she chose to leave. her agency is also exemplified with cocolia literally taking over her body in the early chapters of the game and ofc the parallels w wendy. AND DO YOU SEE HOW THIS CONNECTS TO WELT JOYCE, HUMANITY'S ADAM, WHO CHOSE TO FIGHT FOR HUMANITY AND EMBRACE HIMSELF AS A HUMAN INSPITE OF HIS ORIGIN AS THE CURRENT ERA'S FIRST HERRSCHER AND HOW THAT ALSO EXTENDS BACK TO ELYSIA'S SACRIFICE? she's so important to me everyone watch cyberangel rn.

Collei:

MY DEADALIVEGIRL!!!!!!!!!! i genuinely don't even know where to start. collei is such a beautiful beautiful character who's entire story revolves around a girl who's been dehumanized and exploited for her entire life, healing through compassion and a recognition of her own humanity. first of all, when we meet collei in the genshin manhua, she is full of vitriolic anger and hate at both the world and herself. she's been dehumanized over and over and over again and because its a repetitive experience, she fully believes that her lack of worth is something innately true. this only changes when someone (amber) shows her unrelenting compassion and trust. amber goes against everything that collei believed about herself. amber tells her that she is not only capable of good, but she is good. amber reinforces this novel idea that collei deserves goodness. and that realization is the moment that collei begins recognizing her own humanity, and thus, recognizing her own potential to grow, heal, and be the good person that amber knows she is. every moment thus forth is a demonstration of her attempts to grow and be kind!!!! she decides to go through with cyno's sealing ritual even with its conditions! she asks lisa to help her write a letter at the end of the manhua! she mends amber's tattered clothes like she promised! she decides to go to sumeru, a land of wisdom! it's so pertinent to her character that she gains her vision (representative of her ambition) during a show of compassion (protecting a child during a dangerous storm)! it's even in her symbolism with the way she's constantly referred to as a sproutling. NOT EVEN MENTIONING HOW THE REBIRTH METAPHOR THATS APPLIED TO HER CHARACTER (re: sprout of rebirth, revived serval, cyno and anubis and their ritual) IS SO DEEPLY CONNECTED TO SUMERU (her being the first sumeru character we know of and having that rebirth metaphor hinted at in the manhua! that rebirth metaphor carrying over to the actual sumeru plot w nahida! the rebirth metaphor tying in with the snake and cat symbolism that she and the archon residue complete!!!!!!) she's just such a loaded character!! AND collei's one of the few genshin characters with canonical cptsd who has identifiable and realistically common triggers. most importantly, the game acknowledges that its there and in spite of that, shows her resilience in still trying and healing!!!! my disabled deadalive mummygirl i love her so bad.

#hoyoverse women tournament #hoyoverse #tournament poll #honkai impact 3rd #hi3 #bronya zaychik #hi3 bronya #genshin impact #genshin #genshin collei #collei

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cookiesupplier · 5 months

Text

Hell Ain't So Bad - Part Two

pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut (eventually), angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, and swearing. – potential more to be added at stories progression

summary: Ellie is lost in the world, homeless and has been out of the world for so long in her mind she has no idea what to do and nowhere to go.. When the perfect opportunity falls into her lap, she doesn’t want to pass it up.. Turns out though, it might be a little bit stranger than she ever expected. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?

author’s note: Unbetaed, readers beware.. if you want to chat with me about ideas for this story I'm open to it, my asks are always open as well. I threw you a bone, Noah is there.. but not with Ellie lol

ALL COMMENTS ARE WELCOME. (my replies are broken I will reply via reblog to yours)

tags: Tags are open if anyone is interested.

Ellie offered Steven a smile in thanks before she moved past the door into the small office that he’d pointed her towards. It wasn’t anything special, not that she’d expected it to be. Places like this either went one of two ways. They were either simple down to earth, got the job done, or tried to show their accolades for every person and success story they’d had, and every person they’d managed to save.

She didn’t trust those people.

The office was empty though. Too Empty. It was Eerie.

Nicholas Ruffilo, he’d said. Okay.

Ellie glanced around, the office was pretty much the barest of bones, not even a photo to show anything other than a computer on his desk, a notepad and pen.. It gave the impression he’d walked in this morning, plonked it down this morning and said, this was good, let's work from here today, and yet.. Right there was a name plate.. But anyone could get one of those made, cheap. It was weird.

It made her nervous. How did she never notice this place before, right across from the clinic. Today had been so strange, so unnerving all around, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

A feeling she’d had since she’d yesterday.

Just when she was thinking that maybe she should listen to that feeling, when she turned to go, a coughing fit hit her, and she almost doubled over. She almost collapsed to the floor before a pair of arms caught her decent and guided her to sit in the chair across from the barely used desk. While she was hunched over trying to breathe, he moved to the side of the room, doing something, she was too focused on attempting to get air into her lungs to pay any mind until he was coming back to her, and gently pressing a cup of hot tea into her hand.

“Here, sip this tea, it should help with that cough, it’s a special blend. Just don’t ask me what's in it, my mother swore me to secrecy.”

Ellie lifted the mug to her lips grateful for the kindness, sipping at the warm liquid, and letting the tiny, tiny sips soothe her throat. She knew better than to take more, especially at first. She could barely swallow with how sore her throat was with the coughing was right now, and, oh, that warning he gave her for not asking, fuck, whatever was in it, his mother was a miracle worker. All it took was a few sips, whether from the warmth, or the herbs of the tea mix, but the irritation calmed down and soothed her throat something blissfully.

It felt like she could actually take in a breath for a moment.

“Better?”

Lifting the mug back to her lips to take another life saving sip, that’s what it felt like, how it felt with each sip of the tea right then easing her throat just for a moment. Part of her considered how long she could draw out this cup, wondering if the effects would allow her to get a decent sleep tonight. She knew better though, she knew better than to wonder, because even if she walked out of this building with a new job, she would still be going back to the overpass. She would still be wearing these overworn threadbare clothes that didn’t keep her warm. She still wouldn’t be able to breathe properly tonight.

Ellie would still be back tomorrow morning to go to the clinic again, this time, hopefully, she’d get in.

“Yes, thank you.”

She smiled at the man as she took his appearance. Instead of moving around the desk to sit behind it with his notepad and computer, he pulled up the other random chair in the room and sat this side with her. His hair was long, dark, but it wasn’t down, he had it piled up on his head, in a sort of messy knot, gauges in his ears, and he was covered in tattoos.

Ellie couldn’t help but think of all the stories he might have to go along with them. She had a few herself, back from before she’d had to drop out of college.. When she could afford to rub a couple of pennies together. Then again, maybe he had no stories, maybe he was one of those guys that just wanted to look cool naked, nothing wrong with aesthetics, she loved seeing beautiful artwork. Ellie also just loved how it made her feel though, and that in itself was a story for her.

“Alright, so, before we get started, I’m going to need you to sign this waiver allowing me access to your records so we can find you the best placement possible.”

Reaching across his desk, he plucked up his notebook, and sure enough, underneath there was the waver, and he snagged the pen from his notebook that he held out from her,

“Just sign away at the bottom and we can get started.”

He said best placement, but really, she just needed any placement, she’d take any job, she needed a job to fill her belly, to get somewhere to live. Ellie was tired of merely existing, she wanted to live again.

Setting the waiver down so she could sign it without giving up her mug of tea, she handed the pen back with a sigh.

“Alright then.”

Standing from his chair, he moved back around the desk with the pen and waiver, and started to click away at his laptop,

“We actually have a prime entry level position opened up just this morning that might be perfect for you Ellis if-”

“Ellie.”

Nicholas looked up from the screen when her quiet voice interrupted him, and to her surprise, it was almost as soft as it used to be. It wasn’t the rough wheezing hack she’d felt like she’d had ever since the cough had started coming and abusing her throat back and forth.

“I prefer to be called Ellie.”

Nicholas just smiled softly, nodding lightly, and glanced back to his screen.

“Well, there is a particular position that seems to have come up that looks to be perfect for you, its entry level, a postal worker placement, making sure goods get from A to B. It will involve a bit of relocation on your part, but the company in question will provide you with travel and lodging entirely free of charge for the entirety of your employment with them.”

He listed off information for the job details as he clicked away at the computer. Her eyes went wide, oh, that sounded both like a gift and a horror. Going somewhere she had never been, but also they would just be giving her a place to live as long as she was working for them. Where was it though?

“Nice warm climate too, so it’ll help take care of that cough, I might even throw in some tea for you, we won’t tell my mom, Ruffilo secret.”

Winking to her, Ellie couldn’t help but smile.. Was this.. Was this just too good to be true? After everything feeling so strange all day, and everything just slotting into place, why did this feel so… odd?

“Now one caveat listed here, is that you must note that you will need to be capable of handling the packages with care.”

She was curious how he said that, with care, because how he said it sounded quite specific, but at the same time, she really didn’t want to ruin this chance, even if there was something screaming that this might be too good.. She needed this. Ellie needed this.

“Oh, thats not problem for me at all.”

Smiling, it really wasn’t.

“I ah, I used to volunteer as an ‘Angel’ at my local hospital in the children’s oncology wing. Unfortunately I started college, and..”

She sighed.. Her boyfriend and classes had taken up a lot of her time. She had a lot of regrets.

Swallowing, the smile Nicholas got though as he nodded, with a knowing look in his eye as if he heard it all before.. Sighing, she knew that look. He probably thought she was just trying to talk herself up, make herself sound good, because she used to volunteer to look after sick kids. Didn’t matter, she just regretted that she stopped.

“Alright, well then, in that case, I have a few more forms I need you to sign once I have printed them out for you.”

Nicholas watched Ellie walk out from his office with Steven with the promise of some more sandwiches, and a place to sleep tonight. They were not going to let her go back to the overpass where Steven had found her yesterday, and her transport wouldn’t arrive until the morning, he was sending word for it now. Clicking away at his computer, it wouldn’t take long, but even for them sometimes paperwork could be tedious.. Everyone had to dot their I’s and cross their T’s though. Got to make the world go around.

All the world.

Just as he was hitting send on the email to Folio letting him know the time to pick her up in the morning, his phone started to ring, and sure enough, a familiar name flashed across his screen, coupled with a familiar pair of dark eyes that flashed with fire when annoyed.

Swiping the green circle to accept the call,

“What do you want, asshole?”

The chuckle from the voice on the other end had Nicholas shaking his head with a knowing smile,

“Is that anyway to greet your best friend Nicholas Ruffilo, what will your mother say?”

“My mother knows you Noah Sebastian, as much as she’d clip me around the ear, but still ask me what her sweet darling angel did to annoy me this time. She knows.”

The answering laughter on the other end of the line as Nicholas rolled his eyes said it all. Still, he just continued to click away at the laptop on his desk, looking over at the information on Ellie’s file, this was so much easier now that they could download information rather than just use paper hardcopies all the time, it could be so tedious.

“You want me to say hello like a normal person asshole, don’t eat all my fucking food.. like always.”

You’d think he’d learn, you really did, but he didn’t, Nicholas always had left overs that just disappeared whenever Noah came over to his apartment to hangout, which was, always. The man practically lived there more than he did at his own place. Not that he was complaining.

“We have a new one by the way, this one might take some time though, she’s going to be an interesting transition. Not sure how she’ll take it.”

A rumble of a humm was all he got from his best friend on the other end of the line.. And Nicholas paused at his typing as he looked suspiciously at his phone sitting on the desk. His best friends goofy face looking up at him from the screen, back from when they were younger, still kids and Noah was nothing but a fucking giant string bean. The noises in the background of the call made his eyes narrow..

“Oh you fucker, you’re at my place right now aren't you?! Step away from the pizza right now you jackass!”

All he got in response was cackle in response before the call cut off.

Noah ‘Fucking’ Sebastian, the food thief, his days were numbered.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#bad omens #noah sebastian #fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo #demon noah #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x ofc #original female character #ofc #bad omens au #noah bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #hell au #slow burn

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sencity · 10 months

Note

yan! botanist content? i am eating this up, we are so well-fed. but dare i present, yan! botanist x entomologist darling?

hear me out… as a botanist, he does happen to dabble in fieldwork from time to time. prior to meeting you, he’s always gone out alone, but that won’t be necessary anymore, not with you around of course. and, oh, how perfect it is that you too, partake in nature research.

conducting fieldwork with him is so wonderful! he’s so knowledgeable, and surprisingly even a bit in entomology; plants and insects are crucial for their environment and one another, you know. he’s showing you all the beautiful flora, even informing you about their histories and roles in the ecosystem. while you’re studying the insects, he offers to help catch them in jars for you! no matter how many bug bites he gets, it’s all worth it for you. and how his heart swells with absolute love and adoration when you patch him up with bandaids and kisses afterwards.

nothing beats bonding over two people’s passions that co-exist perfectly–– especially when you’re in a grand field, of tall grass and little visibility, miles and miles away from any type of civilization; no one to bother the both of you, no one to take you away from him, just you two.

RAHH this man has awakened something in me…

you don’t understand how i’m tittering in my covers reading ts. my mind FLOODED with ideas bro. just… let me add onto this thought. your mind is WONDROUS.

nightmare fuel: none, unfortunately. except me not proofreading.

sen’s statement(s): link to the rest of my yandere!stinkers, let alone the yandere!botanist because why not?

it was a given that mother nature had finally answered his prayers; of course his love interest has an adoration towards insects! could life get any better!? insects are essential to plant life and vice versa. it’s the universe telling you that he needs you, and you need him! the two of you will soon flourish under each other’s love, why wouldn’t you become the butterfly to his pistil?

although you’ve forgotten about the times when he’d try to act cool for you or a little uncharacteristically, he surely goes out of his way to assist you on your projects. whether it’s collecting blister beetles in jars for your research despite the seething pain emerging in his palms or leading you into secluded fields to chase butterflies with wings that match the colors of your guys’ eyes, he’ll be there! still, you do tend to question his motives when he asks what a certain flower reminds you of and comes up with some poetic, philosophical answer to impress you. jeez, save it for the yandere!poet…

“is that right? hm, i’d assume that wisteria reminds you of your dreams… or that little starfish you’re so fond of—”

“the ochre sea star! yes, they’re nowhere near as perfect as you, but they’re lovely—oh! or plums and grapes! i love purple!”

there’s the sencha you love, the one who rambles about his simplistic passions and dislikes since he’s easily (dis)pleased. you’re here to listen to them all, even if they’re a little irrational and aimless like stick bugs…

goddamn, he can’t stand stick bugs.

even though he alters his personality to your liking sometimes (and fails horrifically, of course) he sometimes manages to appeal to your interest… by being himself. there was a time when you fixated on fireflies, wanting to study the patterns and language of their little light bulbs or what genetics causes some lightning bugs to not glow. sencha of course ran with this information and wanted to help to his best ability by insisting on you to sit your pretty self on the porch while he fetches a few for your research. you weren’t too fond of the idea of him doing the job for you, also potentially taking the fun out of it, but you allowed it this once…

you were going to go retrieve him since it seemed that he disappeared, but it just took him so long to collect so many. you would think he used the jar method again but decided that that’s not enough to truly get you to believe that he loves you, therefore he attracted fireflies with his bare hands…

…by coating his hands and forearms with sugar water in order to please the ravenous lightning bugs. primary his sticky hands were coated with tiny gleaming lights since he started off catching them with his palms, and it’s only natural for the rest of them to follow in pursuit.

“i uh, made a few friends along the way…?” he would titter unsurely as his arms expressed ethereality. he was referring to the random moths or flies that were also interested in the treacly treat, but that was the last thing you were fixated on since you were ordering him to not move so you could take pictures…

the two of you were truly an inseparable duo, a nature fusion much like leaf bugs or orchid mantises…

while we’re on the subject of orchids, the flower is one the both of you are very fond of, even though the both of you are suffering from a silly case of synesthesia.

when y/n hears the word orchid she sees a fuzzy yellow that resembles a bumble bee ever so faultlessly. she could never forget how he managed to get his hands on a bee orchid just to prove that his field of study compliments yours greatly. his point has only been proven even more when you giddily bring up that “orchid mantises” exist somewhere in the wild…

when sencha reads the word orchid, your honey-imbued lips drip onto his taste buds which awakens his sweet tooth and sends him into a sugar rush. you were a gift from mother nature, handcrafted by the goddess psyche herself. he even grew different species of orchids just because he cares for the flower so much!

normally you would adulate the bed of vibrant orchids and laborious pollinators that sprawled across the fields while pondering about those simple facts, whereas he would adulate you like how the tides adore the sand. it’s very hard to wrap around that the two of you were a match-made in heaven; he was sure to make you his once the fireflies began to coruscate …

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purplekiwis · 2 years

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Hi I hope you are doing well ❤️ I just want to say that your ceo harry fic is one of my absolute favs, it’s so well written and so fun to read ❤️ any new chapters coming soon? Can’t wait to read them, have a nice day ❤️

The Party (PART 6 of CEO!Harry having a crush on adorable and chubby Y/N)

You can read:

PART 1; PART 2; PART 3; PART 4; PART 5

hii lovely readers!!! i'm so sorry for keeping you waiting for a ceorry update for so many months 🥲 i know you guys love this story very dearly so, i really hope you like where its going. this chapter is a bit different from the ones before so i'm excited to hear your feedback on it ❤️

“I should probably head back to my table but… this was great! Seeing each other outside the office, I mean. Maybe we could um… do it again soon,” Harry ventured. He knew Y/N was probably a bit too tipsy to process anything but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to test the waters. Get a feel for her reaction, so to say. They'd been chatting by the bar for a bit, and she looked to be enjoying herself. He'd stay with her the rest of the night if he could, but when he caught her sneaking a glance at her friends, he knew it was time to say goodbye. She wanted to return to her table, and Harry wasn’t going to stand in the way.

“Oh! You mean like an office party, right?” Whether it was for the better or for the worse, the prospect of a party appeared to have reignited Y/N's focus on him. “That would be so fun! People at work have told me you guys used to do that sometimes…”

“Uhh… we-um… yeah, I guess we used to do that. Haven’t in a while though…” Harry faintly recalled having thrown a party or two, and while that was far from what he'd had in mind, he was frankly lacking the guts to correct Y/N after seeing her so excited.

And his guts only shrank when she told him that if he was ever looking for ideas, she had one. It goes without saying that he hadn't been looking, but the fact that she had an idea piqued his interest. “What’s that?”

It was that question that ended up with Harry organizing an office party. It was ridiculous… especially at such a time when everyone had important projects they were working on. If someone else had suggested he’d throw a party, Harry would have told them to take a walk, but as it was Y/N, he went along with the damn thing.

Her idea was that they would host a Murder Mystery event, where the team would have work together to find out ‘who killed the boss’. Harry will admit he didn’t find that last bit very amusing, but Y/N had looked so cute while drunkenly explaining everything to him that night at the bar that by the time she was finishing, he was smiling and nodding along without even realizing.

On the bright side, the idea would be easy to follow. Harry would only have to purchase a silly little game kit, and perhaps play dead for an hour or two (he didn’t really know what the game consisted of yet, but he was assuming that should be part of it). But then, of course… once they went to present the idea to the rest of the team the following Monday, everyone wanted to have a say on the matter.

They also wanted dinner… which Harry was fine with. That was what the corporate card was for after all. He would even let them pick the restaurant themselves… and as long as he got to spend time with Y/N and the food tasted decent, he wouldn't even think to look twice at the bill before swiping his bougie debit card. But that wasn’t enough for them, the greedy little bastards… they didn’t just ask for ‘regular dinner’, they wanted a potluck dinner. It was Margaret's idea, of course... because she could never pass up the opportunity to flaunt her cooking skills. Harry on the other hand, was well aware that his weren’t that impressive. He could put about five dishes together successfully, and none of those were party foods.

The fact that everyone was bringing food from home instead of going out to eat would save his corporate money, but not him from the potential humiliation of showing up with something that didn’t taste that good. And yes, he could always play it safe by bringing in the good ol’ trail mix bowl, but there was nothing particularly exciting about that.

He could also opt to buy some fancy pastries at a bakery… those would be a surefire hit, but everyone would know he hadn’t made them. That’s the annoying thing about in-store baked goods… they always look a little too elaborate to pass as homemade.

So Harry did the unpredictable, he settled upon trying to cook something himself. Figuring that, if everything went to shit, he could always pick something up on his way to work the next day. He searched for recipes that were fun, easy, and suitable for most dietary preferences. Mostly because he didn’t know if Y/N was a vegetarian and whatnot, and he didn’t want to give her any reasons to not eat his food. Not if he could help it anyway...

So he made spinach puffs from scratch.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely from scratch because he used frozen puff pastry… but the filling part he did all himself! And he still had to cut, fold and egg brush his pastry, which had to count for something, right?

All in all, Harry was quite enthusiastic the moment he got to showcase his plate full of golden brown treats to his team, but nothing could beat his excitement to taste whatever it was that Y/N had brought in.

His entire evening was consumed by food and other people, so when Y/N finally spoke to him, it was the highlight of his evening that far. She complimented him on his food, and he returned the compliment, “These look spectacular.” He said regarding her cake pops. That she had made look extra cute by tying little ribbons around the ends.

“Really? Thank you!” She looked happily surprised. “I figured that since Simon has been pestering me to bring him cake, now would be the perfect time.”

“Oh.” Well, that certainly caught Harry off guard. “So you two have been getting along, then?”

“Mhm. I’d say we're becoming good friends.” She raised her finger to her lips in thought. “Now that I think about it, I think I actually have you to thank, because the first time Simon and I talked was when you asked me to call him to your office.”

The knowledge that Simon got to hang out with Y/N often unsettled Harry… and kind of enraged him too, mainly because he was jealous that she was spending her time with somebody else other than him. Did this mean they were together? Harry couldn't resist the impulse to ask, “Good friends as in… just friends?”

“Yeah, of course. Just friends.” She replied immediately. “But why? Do we have a policy on dating coworkers or something? Not that I’m asking because of Simon, it's just... I’d like to be informed, on the off chance that we have one…”

Y/N’s question caused a quickening in Harry’s pulse. “Uh, no. We don’t. But… personally, I'd say it would be best not to date someone you're working on the same department with… just in case, you know… things get off-kilter.” Harry ended the subject by bringing one of Y/N’s cake pops to his mouth and taking a bite. “These are really good...”

“Oh, thank you! I’m glad you like them… and yeah, I get that. Thanks for the advice.”

Her reaction blindsided Harry. He was just hoping she didn't think she'd have to follow his advice. Because one, it was very biased advice, and two, it was only referencing her and Simon, not the entire company… much less the executive department, where the only option available was Harry himself.

“Were you able to use that coupon I told you about to buy the game?” She asked when her eyes fell on the store bag that Harry had brought to the table with him.

He looked down as well, having completely lost sight of why they were standing there talking in the first place. “Oh, yes. I did use that. Thanks for recommending it. Struck us a deal.”

“Oh, cool! If you’re ever looking for any other coupons, remember I'm the person to ask!” She smiled goodbye at him once one of her coworkers interrupted them to steal her attention, and suddenly Harry feared that none of the beverages available at dinner would be powerful enough to help him beat the heat coming up his neck.

What the hell was he doing? Why had he given her that stupid advice? Like she would ever take it into consideration if she was seriously contemplating dating Simon... If his advice was going to serve for anything, it would be to remind her of how hypocritical he was being whenever he eventually asked her on a date. And yes, as for the latter, he was still planning to do it... but as usual, his biggest challenge was finding the right opportunity. What only got harder once they started playing the game, because just as Harry had already been expecting, his only role in it was to be absent.

Which was annoying, all Harry had wanted was to eat a decent dinner and talk to Y/N… and now he was being made to stay inside the meeting room by his team. Lounging on the office sofa and staring at the blue wall painting. How fun.

Everyone else seemed to be having fun though… at least judging by the commotion outside. Harry wouldn't be too shocked if everyone accidentally forgot about him by the end of the evening… he was actually kind of expecting them to, until a soft knock on the door pulled him out of his self-absorbed reveries. “May I?” A sweet voice made him sit up. Y/N. Harry didn't need to peek at the door to know it was her.

“Yeah, of course.” He replied as he swiftly moved into a more flattering position. “Is everything okay? How’s the game going?”

“Good. It’s good. I just got killed off, though.” She smiled, sighing and laughing at the same time. “Is it okay if I wait in here with you?”

“Oh, by all means… I’ll definitely enjoy the company.” Harry smiled back, shifting to give her a space to sit beside him. “I thought I was going to be the only one getting killed, though...”

“Oh, no. Someone will on every round until they figure out who the killer is. The story is just like any other serial killer mystery... Which, in hindsight, also explains why the bigger girl was killed first.”

Harry could tell that Y/N was kidding, but the implication she was making didn't sit well with him. “I doubt that was the case; I think they just killed you first ‘cause they knew how much I wanted your company…”

“Oh, I wasn't whining about getting killed.” She quickly began to explain. “I'm sorry if I sounded like I was sympathy-seeking- I wasn’t. I was just trying to break the tension with a joke.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s not that. It's just no fun listening to someone as great as you underestimate yourself.”

“Yeah, I know. I try not to, but these types of jokes usually come to me when I'm nervous.” She acknowledged with a sigh. “I’m sorry if that was awkward.”

“It wasn’t. But what is it, that's making you nervous? Is it me?”

“Kind of. Not you in particular, but it's just a different situation being here with you this way.”

“Would it make you less nervous if I turned on the overhead lights?”

“Oh no. It's not that kind of nervous.” She laughed softly. “It's more like never knowing what to say or what to talk about…”

“Tell me about you, then…” He asked her honestly. “What do you usually do when you’re not at work?”

“I don't do much, to be honest. I used to go out with friends a lot, but since I’ve gotten my dog I’ve been spending most of my time at home with him instead.”

“Oh, you’ve got a dog. How’s he like?”

“He’s uh… white and tiny?” She chuckled. “Would you like to see a picture?”

“I’d love to.” Harry said, leaning closer to look at the photo Y/N was showing him on her phone. “Aw, look at this little guy!”

“His name is Mochi, like the dessert.”

“It’s a good name.” Harry had never heard of Mochi and had no idea what it was, but after learning that Y/N enjoyed it, he really wanted to try it. “I have a cat, by the way. My lock screen is a picture of her, actually so… I can show her too if you'd like to see.”

“Yeah, ‘course I’d like to see.” She said, and so he took his phone out to show her. “My goodness! Is that really your cat? Look at that hair- it’s so fluffy!” Harry smiled at the comment. He was definitely proud of how well-groomed Atlas’s fur was in that picture, and it made him feel good that Y/N could tell it was well taken care of. “How much did you give for her? She looks expensive.”

“Oh, that's a touchy subject. We don’t talk about that.” He shook his head, smiling. “A little over two thousand. I know it’s a lot for a cat, especially when I could’ve easily gotten one for free but… I don’t know. To be honest, I had never considered owning a pet before, but after seeing her I just couldn't let her go. She was too cute.”

“No, I’m not judging. I completely get the appeal. I saw her and wanted to have her right away.” Her face drew back once she was done admiring Atlas. “I have to say I’m surprised, though. I would’ve never pictured you as a cat person…”

“Really? What did you make of me, then?”

“I'm not sure, but you look like someone who would be more into dogs.”

“I like dogs.” He’s not a big fan, to be totally honest… but as long as they don't growl or bite at his shins he can sympathize with them. “Do you like cats?”

“I do, yes. But I wanted a dog because I was hoping it would help me become somewhat more active. That backfired though, because Mochi’s a couch potato like me, so we basically just stay home and watch Netflix.”

That, by Harry's standards, sounded like a perfect weekend. That's exactly how he spends his too, but God… if he had Y/N there, it'd take things to a whole other level of perfect. He adored the concept, and he really wanted to know what her favorite shows were. “What have you been watching on Netflix, anything good?”

Harry could tell she was excited that he’d asked, which made him wonder whether she had been waiting to tell someone. “I started watching this show called The Umbrella Academy. It’s pretty fun if you’re into goofy, sci-fi shows.”

“No way! That’s what I’m watching too!” He was the one getting giddy now. “I’ve binged through the entire first season on Sunday. Haven't had the chance to start season two yet, sadly… What season are you on?”

“I’m halfway through season two. I won't give anything away since you haven’t seen it yet, but it has been fantastic so far.” Harry could tell she was enjoying the conversation by the way her body had turned entirely to face him. “What’s your favorite character?”

“Hmm… I’d say it’s a tie between Five and Klaus for me. Yours?”

“It’s the same for me, but I think I might like Klaus a little bit more...”

“That’s fair. He’s a great character…” Their legs brush as Harry adjusts on the sofa. He noticed she didn’t draw away, which he interprets as a favorable indication. His body is itching to make a move. They’re alone, the lights are dim, and she looks so lovely under them. Harry cannot keep that question bottled up inside his chest anymore, he has to ask her now. “So… Is that also all you're planning to do next weekend—just Netflix?”

“I believe so. I won't lie; the weekends are usually very unexciting for me.” She laughed, and Harry gulped.

For a moment, he feels the words tremble in his throat. Harry's not too sure on how to approach this with her. He doesn't want to lose out on the opportunity… he's done it before and regretted it immensely after. He really wants to spit it out and get this over with, but he's so nervous that his tongue feels tied to his mouth. And, to add insult to injury, she was staring right at him with those pretty eyes. He couldn’t wait any longer though, so he does the only thing he knows will benefit him in this situation: He takes a deep breath to settle himself before speaking, “I was thinking it could be fun to go do something together, since you're free. We could, er... watch a movie. Perhaps have dinner or grab a drink... whatever you'd prefer, really.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed for a little, but then she made a face as though she had finally grasped what he was saying. “Oh. So you're saying like you, me and...”

“Just us, that's what I’m saying.” Harry could feel the reddening forming on his cheeks, but he hoped Y/N wouldn't be able to notice it in the low light. “I’ve been trying to push away my interest but I… can’t. I think you’re great, and I’d like to get to know you better, if you let me, of course.”

Her face was giving him the impression that she was perplexed by this suggestion, like she couldn't believe her ears. “I, um… I’m sorry. I’m really confused.”

“That’s okay. I know that this was most likely unexpected, but don't be scared to speak your mind. I’m a grown man. I can take rejection. And, course, whatever you decide won’t have any implications on your job or anything. I shouldn't even have to mention that, but just in case it wasn't clear enough.”

Harry noticed her glancing down at his hands, gaze focused on his many rings, possibly looking for a wedding band. Her puzzlement seemed to ease some when she didn’t find one. “Right. So, um...”

Before she could finish her sentence, there was another knock on the meeting room's door. It slid open, as Mark, the fucking cockblocker, walked inside to announce that he, too, had been killed off in the game and was hoping he could join them. Despite the unwanted company in the room, Harry’s gaze still remained glued to Y/N for another moment, hoping she'd at least give him a hint on where her answer was going.

She didn’t. In fact, all she did after Mark's arrival was putting more space between them by giving up her seat next to Harry. He wasn't sure if she was nervous or trying to keep up appearances, but the rest of the night he had the impression she was wary of his proximity and avoided standing too close to him. Her distance was making Harry anxious. He desperately wanted to believe that the way she was acting was because he was making her sweat the same way she was making him, so he tricks his mind into believing so. His optimism begins to waver however, when the party’s over and he notices that Y/N doesn't linger around for him. On the contrary, she appeared to be in a mad dash to get to her car.

“Y/N…” Harry rushed after her. A pasted smile on his face since he had not yet realized how much her demeanor had changed since their talk. He did however notice it the moment their gazes met. She seemed uneasy and quite frankly unhappy to see him. “Hey, er… before you go, I wanted to ask on that thing from earlier, since Mark came in and I missed your answer.”

“Right, um… about that...” He noticed her eyes darting about the parking lot, as if she was anticipating someone to be staring. “I didn't give it much thought since I didn't think you were serious.”

Harry's brows furrowed. “Why would I ask you out if I wasn't serious?”

“I don’t know.” She looked frustrated. “I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings, but I feel like you're playing a joke on me and if that's the case, I don't find it funny.”

With each word she uttered, Harry's confusion intensified. “What makes you think it's a joke?” He waited for her to respond, but she didn't. “Do you not like me? Is that it? Cause if that's the case, I'd honestly rather you tell me than pretend it's not serious.”

“No, I- of course I like you. You're a good boss, and I've always appreciated that.”

Harry was unable to control his shaky laugh. “Don’t give me that… you know that's not what I'm asking.” She finally met his gaze at that point. The slight pout on her lips was beyond Harry's understanding, but he knew exactly what he wanted to do about it. He couldn't, though. Not there. Not yet. “Do you like me as a man, or… find me interesting in any way?”

Y/N went quiet for a moment. “Yes, I think you're interesting,” She finally confessed. “But I also genuinely love working here and I really, really am not looking to jeopardize that.”

Harry noticed Y/N turn towards the driver side of her car, so he took a step further, in a nonverbal request for her to halt. “You won’t. I assure you.”

“Whether or not that's the case, you're still my boss, and I don't think it would be appropriate for us to spend our free time together under these circumstances.” She hastily unlocked her car door. As far as Harry could tell, she seemed to want to end the conversation there.

“I understand that, but what if we look past the circumstances? One date, Y/N. You don’t have to compromise… just let me get to know you, it’s all I want.”

“I'm not that type of new hire, Harry.” Based on her words and expression, it seemed that his insistence had irked her. “I don’t know if this is something you typically do, but I respectfully ask that you do not bring up this topic with me again. Otherwise, you'll leave me with no choice except going to HR.”

“Y/N, hold on... You're reading this wrong. I'm not that kind of guy; please... let me clear things up.” He stood next to her car, pleading with her not to flee the parking lot the way he knew she wanted to.

“Have a good night, Harry.” That was all she said before shutting the door and starting her car. So Harry stood in that practically empty parking lot and watched her leave. He couldn't believe this had happened to him. It had felt like a nightmare, but it was real. The lingering scent of Y/N’s perfume emanating from the spot where her car had just been parked confirmed so.

His biggest worry wasn't whether Y/N would go to HR or not, that was the least of his concerns. He just felt awful that he made her feel like she would need such drastic measures to keep him away. Had he been too insistent? He didn't want that at all; all he wanted was for her to see past the downsides and give him a chance.

Maybe Harry was arrogant in thinking she should have. He was quite spoiled in that regard. When he asked women out, he wasn't used to getting a no. Of course he'd been dumped by exes before, but he couldn't exactly say he was used to getting turned down right away... they usually always let him have what he wanted first. If not for his looks, then most likely for his money.

Granted, he had never had to deal with such ethical dilemmas when persuing someone before, but still, he couldn't help but think that Y/N’s reaction had been slightly overkill. But perhaps Harry was just looking at things from his privileged point of view. The truth was that if shit went down, the worst thing he would have to face was getting marketed as a boss who sleeps with his employees. Meanwhile, Y/N could have to deal with much worse. He’s heard stories, after all. He knows people would feel much more at liberty badmouthing her and questioning her accomplishments than they would his.

So, he gets it. He does. He despises it, however. It's not even about the rejection for him; of course, that bothers him, but he can live with it. The knowledge that Y/N probably thinks he is a scumbag, however, is what’s killing him the most. He can't even look at himself. He wants to punch his reflection whenever his eyes land in the side view mirror as he drives, the same way he wants to punch himself in the bathroom mirror the next morning. He looked as miserable as he felt, but he wouldn't have expected anything less after drinking himself into that state the night before.

He had half the mind not to show up at work that morning. The alcohol and the lack of sleep had led to a severe hammering behind his eyeballs. His vision was still slightly skewed, and he felt absolutely rotten. It's not like anybody would bother checking on him… they'd just assume he had to attend a surprise meeting or was doing something more important. Speaking of, Harry did have some major stuff he needed to take care of at the office that day. That realization was only making him want to get back under his covers and never get out of bed again more.

But somehow he pushed through.

Because truth be told, he was acting like a wimp. He knew facing Y/N would be painful, like removing a bandage from a fresh sore. That’s why part of him wanted to put it off for as long as he could, even if the other was aware that wasn't a workable option. Logically speaking, he knew it was only a matter of minutes, or perhaps seconds until they ran into each other. And yet, never in a million years did he expect it to happen as quickly as it did.

Harry had just finished dragging his grumpy self inside the building’s elevator and was about to hit the button when she walked through the door and slid in beside him. The fragrance of her perfume engulfed him, what instantly transported him back to the previous night and made him shudder, but he inhaled it anyway.

“Good morning,” She greeted cordially while searching through her purse, oblivious to who the person standing next to her was.

“G’Morning.” Harry muttered back. The recognition of his voice eventually jolted her into looking at him. By then, he had already figured she hadn't consciously stepped inside the elevator with him, but it still stung to see her face drop at his presence.

Judging by her reaction, Harry was guessing her eyes had failed to recognize him at first glance. Sunglasses and jeans, after all, were not his style when it came to workwear. He liked to put in effort when it came to his appearance, and naturally that was only heightened by his not so little crush. His pants were always ironed the night before, and his clothes were always perfectly coordinated. On that day however, he had barely mustered the patience to comb his fingers through his hair, let alone put on something nice.

From that moment on, there was an awkward tension.

Harry desperately wanted to apologize for what had happened the night before, but he was trapped by shame. He couldn’t even look at her. His gaze was fixed on the elevator floor, and he had no intention of raising it until they arrived at their floor. He assumed hers was fixed somewhere within those close-fitting walls too, probably as far away from him as possible.

“I’m free on Saturday.” She suddenly said, to his great astonishment. “If you still want to hang out, we can, as long as it’s at a place where we are unlikely to run into anyone that works here. It isn't a date though, so don’t have any expectations.”

Despite his exhaustion, Harry couldn't keep a giddy smile from breaking out on his face. “Can I give you my number, then?”

taglist: @tenaciousperfectionunknown @kissyh94 @gviosca @mimischaos @marlananicole17 @sad-capuccino @princess-asteria @elenagilbert0 @thismaydestroyme @daphnesutton @ally5sos @imaddicted2hs @inlovewitheveryhandsomeguy @palenickelheropickle @hs-rry @harrysficreblog ; @80spinkharry ; @swiftmendeshoran ; @willie-ivy ; @soymilkwriter @itsjustsel @dopetravelanimedonkey @buckymydarlingangel @sassqwn

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tetsunabouquet · 10 months

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Just asking, do you write for nash gold jr? If you do could you do some nsfw headcanons or a scenario?

Also I hate how shallow they made jabberwock in the movies, I know they're meant to be like the typical antagonist but I personally don't think nash is as shallow as he seems

A/N: Here is a Nash Gold Jr X Reader one-shot considering the lack of Jabberwock content! Considering there wasn't any specification about the reader's gender or the scenario being an NSFW, I wrote it female coded and non-NSFW.

Nash Gold Jr's hands were aching. After the game they lost in Japan, they had left back for the US. Silver had been rageful the entire time, and didn't seem to calm down until he beat Nash Gold Jr. Nash Gold Jr fought him, knowing he needed to vent. This wasn't the first time Silver would beat someone up, nor, would it be his last. Unless Silver were to work on his anger issues, and Nash Gold Jr did not see Silver do such a thing in the near future. So Nash Gold Jr drifted alone on the streets, preparing what to say to his mother, who undoubtedly was extremely worried for his emotional state and had probably been baking like a madwoman. She had a tendency to keep baking cakes for him to the point where the entire kitchen was bursting with an abundance of cake whenever he was sad. It was a habit she had developped ever since his father's disappearance. His father was a proud soldier who had gone missing last year. He had been sent to the conflict in Afghanistan, and neither his mother or himself, even knew whether he was still alive or not. As he reached his house, he could see your bike parked in their tiny small garden. 'Great, I should have known y/n was here to pester us.' Nash Gold Jr sighed. It had been this way too, for a while. You were his long-time study buddy. You had saved his grades countless of times. You'd noticed his mother's unstable emotional state after his father had went missing and would often help her with things around the house Even now the two of you had graduated, you had remained a pesky presence, always making sure his mother was okay. He wanted to be grateful for you, but you snapping about the risks he always put himself in was frankly annoying. 'She really should stop offering me help all the god damn time. Doesn't she have her own life?' Nash Gold Jr sighed as he went up the steps, unlocking the door with ease. "Mother, Y/n, I am home." He lazily called out as a greeting. You entered the hallway, carrying balloons in your hand and a sour, disappointed expression on your face. "We wanted to surprise you!" You whined, and Nash Gold Jr slightly melted. His mother stood in the doorway of the living room and said, "We had planned a party for you. We thought it was important to celebrate your first competition abroad, even if the second one didn't went so well." Nash Gold Jr couldn't help but smile ever so slightly. Probably your idea, to turn his mother's baking obsession into a operation. He chuckled and ruffled your hair, and as you pouted he greeted his mother, glancing into the living room to see even more balloons, decorations and a plethora of cakes, but not as many as his mother would have baked otherwise. He held his mother tightly to himself, whether to reassure her, or himself, he had no idea. "I will admit, there's some foreign potential, alright." He omitted another small sigh, and felt your hand slapping him across the back. "Well, now you know what to expect and how to prepare, right?" You asked enthusiasitcally, and Nash's slip of smile broke way for a bigger one. You always did this, you were always there to pump hope into his veins. "I hope you haven't stuffed yourself full with too many cakes already, because you're totally helping me with those," Nash said instead of telling you how much he appreciated you, but he figured you knew anyways. You always seemed to know the question to every answer. "Of course I haven't, I figured you needed my assistance. I gave any cake your mother tried feeding me over the past days to my own family so I could spare my stomach." You declared, ever so knowingly. Sometimes, when Nash dared to allow himself to think about his growing feelings for you, he couldn't help but think; 'If I am the Magician, Y/n is my Oracle.' Perhaps someday he'd say them out loud, but not now. Now, he would eat cake with you and his mom and celebrate his first opportunity to basketball overseas. His mother started blasting one of his childhood favorite songs, and began dancing in the living room as you cheered her on and Nash did feel grateful for what he had indeed.

#knb #kuroko's basketball #nash gold jr #jabberwock #nash gold jr x reader #kuroko no basuke x reader #knb x reader

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floof-writes · 4 months

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I just figured out why the "Don't hate on Kristen, she's just a traumatized 17 year old girl she wasn't prepared to create and care for a deity and it's not fair to expect her to" argument bugs me so much!

First and foremost, Kristen Applebees owns my entire heart and soul. She saved my fucking life. She and I went through a scarily similar religious crisis at fifteen and she and Ally helped me process it. By extension, I respect Ally immensely. They are integral in what D20 is today, and I can't thank them enough for that, Chaotic Dumb shit included. Whatever choices they make to A) have fun at the table and B) play Kristen to her truest potential, I support them.

Right now, Kristen is certainly acting in character, I'm not denying that, but her character still hasn't learned the lesson she needed to. The argument above boils down to the claim that teenagers shouldn't be held responsible for their actions, and as someone who was 17 fairly recently, YES THEY FUCKING SHOULD. Teenagers are capable of doing amazing things. They are more than capable of making moral and practical judgements, and they should be allowed to. They are intelligent and thoughtful and complex. Kristen proves that every second she's on screen. Denying her the consequences of her actions, both good and bad, is just disrespectful to her accomplishments.

Teenagers should receive unconditional love and support from the adults in their lives, but they do not get consequence immunity that expires at 18. Kristen, more than any other bad kid, lacks parental support. Her connection to stable adults is largely through her girlfriend, and that's not ideal. But Kristen has proven she understands what it means to be the cleric of a new god, that in the same way her devotion raised her from the grave, her apathy could bury her once more. It's happened to [redacted] before. Apparently she hasn't even attempted to spread that responsibility out by sharing the gospel. She hasn't asked for help, which is a teenager's most fundamental right. It makes sense that she hasn't, someone else pointed out that Kristen is still searching for the absolute security in knowing a god is all powerful that she had while believing in Helio and has yet to unlearn that, which is why she struggles with her deities. She very obviously relies on religion to fill a hole in her worldview. But if Kristen kills Cassandra, she kills Cassandra. That's her fault, even if it's a mistake that will one day become a dumb teenage decision in her past, rightfully paid for and rightfully regretted. And the adults in her life, whether that be Aguefort or Jawbone or someone else, have a responsibility to tell her she's out of line, because she is.

Junior year is about realizing that real life is a speeding train and you're tied to the tracks with just the pieces of a knife. Ally themself said this season is about Kristen suffering consequences for her chaotic decisions. Making a bad decision and being held responsible for it is okay. This is a theme that appears with Pete as well. Expecting them to learn from their experiences and behave better gets conflated with hating them and is met with excuses about their circumstances and lack of support, even though both demonstrate an extreme desire to learn and grow.

(Finally, the last piece of this argument that bugs me, is the claim that people criticizing Kristen must not have experienced a faith crisis. Bitch, with Kristen's help I banged that thing out in a year and half. By 16 I was an atheist out to my parents. Unlike Kristen, they didn't kick me out, and unlike Kristen, the existence of god/s isn't an objective reality in my world, so I get that I had it easier. But your experiences with faith aren't universal.)

#fantasy high #fhjy spoilers #kristen applebees #character analysis #might delete later #I fucking hate discourse but I love existing in a live fandom #I care too much

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hyperfixatedfandomer · 10 months

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Okay so I still keep seeing people propose how Lo'ak will go mad and try to kill Spider when he finds out he saved Quaritch. What's your opinion on that? How do you think everything will go? Do you think Spider will tell them himself or they just happen to know eventually? What do you think Sully family, Lo'aks particularly reaction will be? We seen before that Lo'ak cares about Spider and ready to risk his life to save him, the question is will it change after what happened? Also if he blames himself for Neteyam's death, does it mean he wishes he didn't go to save Spider? That Spider didn't worth it? There's not much information about his and Spiders relationships in a3 so I'm really concerned, and wonder what you think.

Lo’ak is a young, hot-headed kid so it would be very in-line with his character to get agressive as an initial reaction. He might even say something very hurtful, but will regret that later.

And about that. I believe he’d calm down after a while and approach Spider, asking him something like “Why? Why did you do this? Did he make you!? I-I just don’t understand. Speak to me bro!”

Lo’ak is mad, but also, Spider has been missing for MONTHS, and depending on how open he is about his experience, the Sullies may know nothing of what he went through in captivity. Lo’ak, in my opinion, would recognise that and give Spider a chance to explain himself, because as adopted as he might be, they still knew each other their whole lives and Spider is a brother to him as much as Kiri is his sister. It wasn’t shown well in the movie, but in the comics he (spoiler) tagged along to help him escape Hell’s gate because, and I quote, “Spider is our brother too!”

I’m 100% sure that Lo’ak blames himself for Neteyam’s death, but he definitely does not think that saving Spider was a mistake because, again, he was missing for months. For all he knew, Spider could have been brutally tortured and abused! He WAS going to be abused and tortured until Quaritch pulled him out of Bridgehead. For all they knew, it was their last chance to save their brother from cruel, monstrous captors that would hurt him again if he didn’t intervene.

On the topic of whether Spider would crack or not, I think he will. Not immediately, but when the RDA comes back and starts posing danger of the reefs once more, he’ll have no choice but to warn them, lest he wants to loose another sibling or potential parent to his psycho father, whom they are not expecting. On the other hand, he could spill the truth much earlier if he chooses to only tell half of it, something along the lines of: “I saw Quaritch on the rocks, leaving on his ikran…”

#atwow #atwow spider #spider atwow #avatar spider #spider avatar #spider socorro #avatar 2 #avatar way of water #avatar #avatar quaritch #atwow lo’ak #atwow loak #lo’ak sully #loak sully #Lo’ak #avatar lo’ak #avatar loak

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emzzy · 1 year

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HADES 2!!!!

ok so WOW i was not expecting this so i am compiling all of my thoughts/theories i have gathered from the trailer

ok so for those of you who don’t know the main character is Melinoe zagreus’s sister (or half sister because sometimes Hades and Zeus are swapped around in regards to her origin) so no thanzag fan baby for us :’( sadge, but anyways, on to the story(that we know of)

so the story from what we can gather is that kronos (titan of time, father of zeus, hades & posiedon ETC, ate all of his children, was chopped up and had his chunks scattered around tartarus for said child eating) is the big bad here and he has presumably taken over the underworld after capturing hades as seen here

(and presumably all the other cthonic gods as well, but we don’t know for certain)

we know from the supergiant blog post that melinoe will be fighting through the underworld (and maybe more) but instead of going up through the underworld to the surface melinoe will instead be going down through the underworld to tartarus, which is presumably where kronos, and maybe even the other titans are waiting.

we also have a bunch of new characters such as:

moros! doom incarnate and im calling it now, he is SO gonna be a romance candidate like come ON look at this emo bitch and tell me supergiant wont let us fuck him, no idea whether he gives is boons or not.

we also have apollo, who does give is boons and seems to have a ‘daze’ debuff effect he can give you he seems to fill the same roll as the other Olympian gods so i dont have much to say about him yet

nemesis, very cool looking, probably also a romance character

and dora, who is a shade, which is interesting because before this we could only listen to shades in passing conversation, so the fact that we can talk to them is cool, and may also have something to do with melinoe apparently being the goddess of ghosts

we also see a few potential non-underworld areas, mostly the forests, but there is one in particular i want to call attention too

this one, just look at this place, water everywhere, coral growing on the floor, fishy looking enemies, even those shell shaped jugs, id bet money that this is posidons realm, or at least his house or something which makes me question just how BIG this game really is and just how much is at stake here, we know kronos captured hades, but what about his other kids?, did he capture them too?, because i don’t know why else melinoe would be in posidons realm other than to free him, or maybe to ask for his help to save hades?, IDK man im just really exited for this game and needed to write out my initial thoughts

#hades #hades game #hades 2

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treeshroudrelic · 1 year

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Redownloaded Echo on my phone to check if I still had my old saves and reread Flynn's epilogue because something has been nagging me. Thankfully they're still there (though I wish the dates weren't all changed to today, oh well). Ended up spitballing a lot of messy thoughts about Flynn Epilogue!Chase.

Heavy Echo spoilers below.

I think the commonly accepted theory is that everyone cut Chase out of their lives once his crime of murdering Sydney was exposed but having reread Flynn's epilogue just now I kinda disagree. In fact, it's far more likely that the opposite is true.

Leo, TJ, Jenna, and Carl didn't cut Chase out of their lives. Chase cut himself out of their lives.

Now admittedly both can be true. On my file, Leo is still living in Echo cause I spoke to Daxton instead of him, but on one video I could find Chase outright says that he doesn't know how Leo is doing cause the latter doesn't speak really speak to him anymore.

But that doesn't really confirm that Leo cut Chase out, although it can imply it. But I think it can imply the reverse. Because Chase could talk to him too. And in my file (the Leo is still in Echo file) Chase's response to Devon asking if Leo is still in Echo because he couldn't sell his property due to the hysteria is to say "Mhm. Well, that and some other shit that we don't really need to get into."

This strikes me as Chase being incredibly avoidant and cagey about his friends. His next line has him refer to Flynn as "one other guy" (in response to Devon expressing sympathy that Chase and Leo had to grow up gay in Echo). And, then right after, Chase asks if he could smoke, then very slowly lights his cigarette, which strikes me as very "I don't wanna talk more about my friends, can we please move on."

This is in direct contrast to the fact that Chase is rather okay with talking about the 2015 Echo hysteria to the point of having two random college students meet him at Echo so they can make a Youtube Vlog about it. He admits to have watched Devon's own video of Echo (which used Chase's footage). And he gives a rather detailed explanation of the mines and how the fire that consumed Flynn happened five years ago. He's not avoiding Echo, but he's avoiding his friends.

Why? Very likely out of guilt, the fear of being rejected, and deep paranoia of the potential consequences. So Chase thought it was better to deal with it by being the one to lose their numbers. One of the saddest scenes in the epilogue is when Cameron and Devon see how miserable Chase is and try to comfort him to which the narration goes into Chase's feelings which in a nutshell are: "I see why Cameron likes Devon, he's so supportive" "I wish I had someone like that again" "I find myself feeling happy that Cameron is giving me physical comfort and he and Devon being considerate of my feelings" "I didn't realize I was so starved for compassion affection care touch".

It all caps off in this incredibly telling line: "Still, Chase can't help but avoid their reassuring gazes, the otter rubbing at the old spider mark at his neck." Chase doesn't believe that he deserves comfort, friendship, compassion, or kindness. The spider scar is a reminder of what Chase feels he deserves, to be abandoned in his own hell for his transgressions.

Then there's the bit when the trio go to the mines where Chase gives is very informative about the nature of the mines and how the fires that happened in their five years ago might have come to be. But when it comes to being asked about why Flynn went into the inferno, Chase clams up and leaves.

Chase killed Sydney who was Flynn's best friend. And Flynn died shortly after learning this. I wonder if Chase links these together and thus feels responsible for Flynn's death or at the very least feels a tremendous amount of grief knowing that he can never gain closure from him, whether it be by Flynn killing him in retribution (which I think is what Chase believes he would do and what Chase believes he deserves very deep down under all his avoidance of responsibility and paranoia of the consequences of his actions) or the (as Chase might see it) pipe dream of Flynn forgiving him (which I don't believe Chase thinks would ever happen).

So he just flakes rather than try to deal with it, even though Devon and Cameron have no knowledge about all that and are in absolutely no position or have any investment in judging him for it. Even though the question actually had no bearing on Chase's own actions, just Flynn's, which Chase had absolutely no control and influence over. Chase catastrophized what the outcome of him answering the question would be and left rather than confront it.

And I think that's exactly what Chase did to his friends. He left because he couldn't bring himself to truly confront what he did partly out of intense fear of what he saw were inevitable deadly consequences for himself and partly out of intense guilt.

Idk, I just feel that Chase being abandoned without any attempt from his friends to reach out to him doesn't fit at all. In fact, it ends up proving TJ Route!Chase right. His life would be 100% over if the secret ever came out so he has to continue running in circles of avoidance, denial, and burying the secret via any means. But would it really be?

I think this parallels him with Flynn himself. Both men end up destroying themselves due to their own obsessions blinding them to the potential path of healing and moving on. While Flynn's destruction is much more visceral and horrifying, Chase's is much more subtle and mundane. Flynn literally burns to death and his personhood is destroyed by the supernatural forces of Echo, forced into a timeless hell with seemingly no hope for him to attain freedom much as he would want to get out. Chase regains full control of himself from Echo's supernatural forces but deliberately denies himself any hope of finding happiness or freedom from his pain and would very much love to be sent to hell. And neither man are given the answers they so desperately want.

This was a rather messy rant and I feel like I have more to say and didn't put my points across that well but it's getting late and I wanna put out something.

#echo vn #echo vn spoilers #echo spoilers #chase hunter #my ramblings #my meta

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aita-blorbos · 3 months

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AITA for working to bring a neutral faction into a war?

My faction has been in a pretty awful war with an opposing faction. If the other side wins, it will mean the end of pretty much everything we know. And the truth is, right now, it’s not looking so great for us. Even if we come out on top, this is promising to be a potentially long and brutal war, and we’ve already lost a lot of people. I’ve come to realize that maybe the only thing right now that could really turn the tide would be if a third faction, who are currently neutral, instead join the war on our side.

So, enlisting the help of a local “tailor”, who we’ll call G, I had planned to try to bring this neutral faction into the war by giving them a falsified data rod showing our enemies secretly plotting an invasion of the neutral faction’s homeworld. But unfortunately we ran into a problem: the Senator we gave the rod to spotted that it was a fake because of imperfections in the forgery job. I was sure it was all over and the Senator was going to go back to his homeworld and tell them what we’d tried to do. But next thing I know, the Senator’s ship has been blown up. It seems like our enemies are responsible. A lot of my crew start talking about how with the enemy assassinating the Senator, it seems like his faction really will enter the war on our side. I know what’s going on. I go to confront G. I slapped him (I still think this was justified, not why I think I might be the AH) and confronted him about whether this was his plan all along, whether he knew the rod wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny. He tells me he really did hope the rod would stand up to the test but that, yes, he was prepared to do this and then admitted to also killing the criminal who helped make the rod. I yelled at him and told him it wasn’t worth it because there’s still no guarantee the other faction will enter the war. He pointed out they’ll still discover the rod with the recording of the plans for attack, on top of thinking their Senator was assassinated by our enemy. I reminded him that they’ll see the rod is a fraud, and he countered that any of the imperfections in the rod will now be blamed on the explosion.

Now, I admit, I can’t argue with him about that, but still- he was going against my plan, and I never asked him to do any of that. When I said as much to him, though, he told me that he thinks the reason I went to him for help in the first place was because I knew he could do things I wasn’t capable of doing, and therefore knew something like this might happen, and that I should just soothe my conscience by reminding myself that I may have just saved everyone, and all it cost was the lives of one Senator, one criminal, and the self-respect of one officer, and I should consider that a bargain.

That formally neutral faction has now declared war against our enemy. This is a huge victory for the good guys and might even be the turning point for the entire war. So, I lied, cheated, I bribed men to cover the crimes of other men, and am an accessory to murder. But here’s where I really think I may be the AH: I think I can live with it. And if I had to do it all over again, I would. So does that make me the asshole?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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aroaceacacia · 1 year

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HI!!!! sorry if you've already posted about this before, but i'm aware you help maintain a vod archive - we're trying to do this for another server and were wondering if you had any tips for useful tools or ways to go about this? thanks and sorry for bothering !!

yes ok!!! here r my tips

1. Have some sort of location where all the VODs are accessible from, for people who may want to find them. For us, we have a spreadsheet, with dates & labels; this could also take the form of a YouTube playlist or an archive.org collection

2. Having only one way to download VODs probably wont be able to cover every scenario you encounter. Here's a list of a BUNCH of resources and tools, many of which you might never need, and most of which I've never heard of. In terms of programs to download VODs, I personally use a mixture of three: Twitch Downloader, 4k Video Downloader, and Twitch Recover. (I use Downloader to access most Twitch VODs, 4k for YouTube videos/streams - although it also does Twitch - and Twitch Recover for when a VOD has been recently deleted*.)

3. TWITCH DELETES VODS !!!! unless a vod is saved as a highlight, those suckers go KABLOOEY at a certain point! the exact amount of time will vary, depending on whether ur streamer is affiliate, partner, or not, so knowing your streamer's status is very helpful. I think non-affiliates and affiliates have a week, and then partners have 60 days. Note that Twitch Recover does not work on VODs older than 60 days, so this time limit is REALLY IMPORTANT.

4. If you're able to get in touch with your streamers in some way, that is really cool and epic! Not necessary at all, but sometimes it's nice being able to remind streamers theres a demand for an official VODs channel, or asking if they have any spare VODs lying around

5. HAVE FRIENDS TO DO THIS WITH !! you said "we" so I assume theres probably a team of some sort already, but division of labor is HUGELY helpful for VOD archiving, because those GB start adding up fast. (It's about 2.5 GB per 1 hour of video at 1080p quality, and generally you want the highest quality possible, so VODs can get pretty chunky.) Oh yeah I guess storage space is useful too. Remember to do spring cleaning also every now and then and make sure you dont delete anything that isnt already backed up elsewhere 👍 but yes. Teamwork. Communicating with the group about who will do what, being able to mobilize in a potential crisis, and making occasional public calls for additional hands on help are all super important, I've found.

6. YouTube is a copyright bitch! While it's better for watching vods back on, it will occasionally block a vod for copyright. YouTube is great, I upload all my MCC vods there unlisted, but I also recommend getting familiar with archive.org. archive is a little slower to upload but it won't hide a VOD worldwide because it had a copyrighted song or three in it. Having mirrors of uploads is a good tool for peace of mind - one of my friends has been on a kick of double mirroring VODs lately, even ones that will eventually be up on a VODs channel, but that's also a lot of uploading and slows him down

7. Being aware to at least some degree of the contents of what you're archiving is a good thing. Sometimes you need to censor out an accidental doxxing or worry about an IP leak, and I find it makes me feel more confident in my work if I know what I'm preserving. Like, I archive plenty of MCC POVs I havent necessarily watched, but they're all MCC, and I know what happens, and I sometimes hear details from other people - but a random server VOD from a guy I don't watch much of could contain anything. Sometimes I worry I've accidentally stuck deeply personal information into the internets biggest document repository. And maybe I have. But having some familiarity helps the peace of mind

8. Have fun with it and take pride in your work! You're helping to prevent something you love, the hard work of others, from becoming lost media! That's sooooo epic and sexy and cool of you, actually, and more people should do it - either on their own for their own personal purposes, or in the context of a larger project, like me and you

tl;dr its work but it boils down to communication, having the right tools, and having a team that is willing to adapt and cooperate in order to get stuff done! best of luck in your efforts

#asks #the genesis institute #this is like sooooo much info most of it will come up naturally. & i think the exact rhythm and formula #will vary depending on the exact group of people you've got & the demands of the server itself

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bi-naesala · 2 months

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Dismas and lovers

10. Jester

If there’s one thing Dismas can say, with absolute certainty, about Sarmenti, it’s that he’s loud; apart from the obvious lute, which he keeps strumming in a way that really makes you want to grab it and smash it over his head, and the jingles of those stupid bells he keeps attached to his hat, he constantly laughs.

It’s not even a nice, warm laugh; it’s creepy, it’s weird, it’s… He’s not even able to describe it. Disturbed, maybe? Like you can tell something’s wrong with him, something big.

Dismas thought that, given the gloominess of his companions, that this was going to be a breath of fresh air, but that wasn’t the case at all.

Ugh, he wants him to shut his trap so bad, eternally too – that would be excellent.

With time, thankfully, he becomes more bearable, though whether that’s because he’s learned to tone down his voice, or if it’s because Dismas is slowly losing his sanity, this is hard to tell.

He’s learned to tune it out, to the point that, now, his incessant talking has become background noise, way less annoying than it used to be.

It would still be better if he found a different hobby than yapping his mouth on the worst occasions, but he supposes he can’t begrudge the guy for it: everyone copes in different ways, his is simply louder than usual.

In a way, he kind of reminds him of himself, when he was younger: loud, brash, never taking anything seriously, way too loud and way too sarcastic.

Not that he’s actually gotten wiser over the years, though: he simply learned to keep that shit for himself not to cross anyone who shouldn’t be crossed.

Maybe he’ll learn too, or maybe not. Frankly, he shouldn’t care about it and yet… He can’t help but to have a bit of a soft spot for the guy, even if he’s incredibly annoying.

He won’t try to get him under his wing because he’s no teacher, and because frankly it feels insulting to Sarmenti; he can look after himself without him nagging, though if he’s in trouble when Dismas happens to be nearby, well, why shouldn’t he give him a hand?

He’s always tried to be casual about it, not wanting to make a big deal out of it – that would be the absolute worst – but unfortunately for him, Sarmenti is more perceptive than what he’s given him credit for.

“Oh, my hero!” he sighs, in an obviously fake dreamy tone, after Dismas saves him from the umpteenth potential fight with the tavern owner – why does he like provoking him so much?

“Just shut up,” Dismas replies, looking away. “How about you stop getting into stupid fights, instead?”

Really, he should’ve learned his lesson at some point.

“Why should I? I can always count on my white knight to save me, after all.”

Oh, so that’s how it is? This guy, he swears…

“Y’know, you shouldn’t count on me saving your ass all the time. Next time I might not be there to help you.”

“You think? Curious, then, that you constantly tail me…”

Shit, he’s onto him.

Damn it, Dismas, you’re getting soft.

“I’ve had people pursue me, but never in such a roundabout way. You know you can just ask, right?”

At those words, Dismas almost chokes, but he manages not to, for his dignity’s sake – not that there is much of it to save anyway.

“The hell?!”

Sarmenti laughs, that laugh which Dismas has grown accustomed too. At least one of them is finding this funny.

“You don’t have to be shy, now,” the idiot bard insists, leaning closer and closer to Dismas. Just because he’s taller, doesn’t mean he should use it to his advantage; besides, he’s not really intimidating, not when Dismas knows he could easily take him – in a fight, of course!

… To tell the truth, he had thought about that a couple of times – every single resident of the Hamlet has thought about it, actually – but this has nothing to do with that is happening right now!

He doesn’t know what to say – he knows that any word that leaves his mouth will be used against him – which gives Sarmenti the occasion to keep babbling and babbling and babbling. Ugh, Dismas hates when he does that.

What to do? He has to find a way to stop him, or else it’ll get harder and harder to control the urge to stab him. Ideas, he needs some ideas… Or maybe he could…

Well, since he was the one who brought it up in the first place, maybe there is an effective way to shut him up; he moves quickly, without giving Sarmenti the chance to react or else he would’ve been the one getting stabbed that day – probably – because what he’s doing might not be something he likes at all, but it’s too late to stop now, not when Dismas has already gotten to his mask, raising it just enough to uncover up to his nose, then he presses their lips together. Ah, finally, silence.

This time, Sarmenti’s the one who struggles, when they pull away. The asshole teased, teased and teased, and yet he obviously didn’t believe him capable of something like that; serves him right.

“You!”

It’s Dismas turn to laugh, now, and he does without holding anything back, uncaring that he must be hurting Sarmenti’s ears with how loudly he’s being.

He’s not surprised when, moved by frustration, Sarmenti pulls him forward by his scarf and kisses him again; he could easily pull away, but he goes along with it – it doesn’t feel bad, after all.

At least, now, they’ve found a way to shut each other up.

#darkest dungeon #dd #dd1 #highwayman #dd highwayman #dismas #jester #dd jester #sarmenti #my fics #mine #dismas and lovers

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