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#thanks to some peoples input I think my guess they’re all move and thank you 💖
ghostieyanyan · 2 months
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Is it ok if I can ask for a yandere Rollo Flamme? I like the idea of Rollo because he’s already based off a yandere villain so it makes sense. And I think Rolli would like to get close to Yuu cuz they don’t have any magic so they’re seen as ‘pure’ in Rollo’s eyes. Maybe Rollo can be seen trying hard to control his urges at the fireplace or he captured MC and tried to burn them at the stake like in the movie? Your choice.
hehehe... why not just add salt to injure? what if mc has pyrophobia, a fear of fire?
~Let the fire purify you~
Yan!Rollo x Pyrophobia!Mc
Warnings: Fire, burning, kidnapping, anxiety attack, chains, gag, breakdown,
~~~
Rollo hated magic... with a passion. A passion that burned so bright that hurricanes, rainstorms, floods, and tsunami together couldn't extinguish this flame of pure hatred.
How does no one sees the danger of magic? How many lives have to be taken in the hand of magic for people to understand this is a problem? He guesses that its one of humanities sin, playing dumb, playing ignorant, until it becomes someone they care about that gets hurt. its always like that... why could people just see things through his lenses BEFORE someone got hurt...
But for now, he just has to do gods work for everyone else, until they see things his ways...
He had a plan. a plan that will solve this problem before it could get worst. The plan to get rid of magic, from one of the most powerful mages in twisted wonderland, to the student "prodigies" of that sick, sinful school, to the townsfolks of Fleur city, to every inch of Twisted wonderland.
With this crazy plan, he'll make, no, he'll force everyone to see how he sees life should be. he didnt care on who got hurt-
until-
he met Night Raven College's gem in the rock, their Perfect. When all the students were introducing themselves, when it was your turn. He swore the world stopped and he would have swore on his life that he saw wings and a halo on you. You looked, spoke, and acted like an angel. you even allow these sinful... beasts... breathe the same air as you. then you have an ACTUAL beast as a familiar. don't tell grim that.
your heart and soul must be made out of pure gold. he has to protect it at all cost. he will use his own body to shield you from magical blast and then some to keep your purity in tact. he will move mountains and redivert lakes, rivers, seas, and oceans for you. Rollo Flamme will make you into his deity that he worships.
~
All the students decided to split into groups and explore Fleur City, after they got changed.
to say Rollo thought you looked breathe taking in your glorious masquerade outfit was an understatement. he was about to come up to you and compliment you, maybe even starting small talk with you but a certain lizard decided to be the first to do so...
Of course that monster would be charmed by an angel like you. Evil loves to tempt with good.
no matter, he'll just have to see you another time but if he gets too busy..? He'll make time for you.
~
Rollo lead you into his office, you didn't mind too much because he was telling you all about the school's history and art. it is a really pretty school, it gives very romantic feelings.
when you finally made it into his office, you froze at the doorway at seeing the fire place. Rollo quickly notices and puts out the flame with a very helpful near by bucket. You were grateful that Rollo was very accommodating to your fears.
you thanked him and sat down across from him while Rollo sat in his chair.
"I'm very sorry for asking you to meet me at this ungodly hour but i just needed your input on something and if i didn't ask you, i would have had a sleepless night tossing and turning." Rollo said as he got everything on his desk organized.
"hehe, its alright. I just happen to have a restless night myself.. but i don't mind the company."
"oh my that sounds awful. what seems to be troubling you?"
"w-well.."
It was really hard to tell someone you only just recently met that you had a "bad feeling" about something and how so far, in twisted wonderland, its always comes true...
"well.. i think... maybe, its just the 'sleeping at a new place' feeling and I'm just not getting use to it. but I'm sure its fine. heh.."
"hmm.."
Rollo seemed satisfied with that answer and continues, by leaning towards you on the desk.
"i know i asked you about this before, but id like to discuss it with you more in depth... hmm?"
since Rollo put out the fire place, there was only a small lamp on the desk to shine light in the room. you kind of wished that the fire place was still lit... cause everything in this scenario was telling you to run and never look back..
"o-okay..? what would you like to know..?"
Rollo smiled and leaned back into his chair.
"as a magicless student in a full school of magical.. mages, aren't you scared they might... turn and hurt you..?"
the way he worded that made you feel more unnerved.. you trusted your friends in Night Raven College. Even the ones that did try to hurt you, they still came to your defense and help and protected you when you needed them.. you trusted them with your life and having this man tell you "you shouldn't because they can use magic" was... laughable...
"no.. because they've earn my trust and I've earn theirs..!"
"Earned..?"
Rollo's face darkened as you stood up from the chair you were sitting in.
"I'm sorry Rollo. Thank you for your hospitality but i have to go."
you start walking to the door but stopped.
"with however you feel about magic, i wont sit down and let you disrespect them just because they possess a special ability and i don't. It doesn't make them less of a person. Magic or no magic."
you walked to the door but before you could even touch the doorknob, you feel a body press against your back, pinning you against the door. you couldn't even move, much less move the door.
"I'm sorry my sweet angel~... i guess.. I'll just have to show you myself then~"
you see a quick purple blur and then tightness around your throat. Rollo was using his signature purple and gold handkerchief to strangle you! you tried to struggle. you tired to jab your elbow into his chest but his uniform was too thick for it to do any good.
You started to feel light headed then everything you saw was slowly turning black. the last thing you saw was Rollo, and the insanity in his eyes.
~
you had so many questions...
why you? was it because you don't have magic so you were "easy"? aren't there other people in twisted wonderland without magic? you just happened to go to a school "for" magic users so of course you'll see it a lot.
what's so bad about magic? ya it almost killed you here and there but it also almost killed either the user or other people around you.. but afterwards everything would have been fine. Plus you didn't blame the magic for those situations. you couldn't even say you blamed the user. some deserved the blame.. but not everyone..
how did you get here..? probably from your big mouth, you should have been smart when you were talking to Rollo. he was already giving you weird vibes and you just had to make it worst
you had more questions but you knew none of them would get answered..
you started to slowly open your eyes..
where are you..? what's this sound..? why cant you move..?
you slowly looked around, you remember this place... Rollo showed you, with your friends. the big bell, the bell of Solace. you noticed that you were alone though..
you looked around some more, you looked out from where you sat on the floor. it was dark out but with an orange hue... was the sun rising..? what's going on?
you went to take a step, to look out but something stopped you. a cold hand..? no..? a chain?!
if you weren't fully awake then, now you are! the chain was short, at least 2 feet long from the floor, it was attached to both your ankles. you could only go so far out.
what happened?! what's going on?!?
you started breathing heavily, tears started to form. you felt so confused, so lost. someone, anyone, please hel-
"oh my dear! you're awake."
your blood became ice, you looked up to see an uncomfortably happy Rollo.. he had a basket of breads and fruits.
"i was so worried that you'll never wake up. I'm very happy you did~"
with a heavy chest, you spoke.
"what's going on, Rollo!? Why are we here? why am i-?"
"oh within time my dear angel~ we just have to wait for those flowers to do their miracles. in the meantime, eat. you've been sleeping for a while and-"
"flowers..? what are you-...? Rollo...."
you took a deep breathe to try to settle your nerves.
"Please, Rollo... I'm scared. please tell me what's going on."
he looks at you and sighed, placing the basket down on a near by table. He then walked over to you and sat beside you, motioning you to come closer to him.
You did. you don't really have a choice right now..
"I'm making our perfect little world my love~ our paradise~"
you looked at the man like he was crazy. he was, at this point. But he continues.
"the Crimson flowers, the one that looks like fire, the flowers i shown you when you toured the city, they have the ability to take a mage's magic until they are just magicless people.. like you."
you stared at him but he kept smiling.
"magicless.. like me..?"
"yes my dear, then everyone in this world would have to understand magic is like a poisonous weed that has to be pulled out. or it'll spread to the other crops."
you just stared. you couldn't bare to keep looking at him so you turned to look at anything else..
magicless like you... no.. this isn't right. this cant happened!
Rollo thought the conversation was over and sat up to get the basket.
"Before this started, i made sure to get some food. i thought you'll be hungry so-"
"...mon...ster..."
Rollo froze. he was facing the backet and didn't turn around.
"excuse me..?"
you stood up, leaning against the wall, as best as you could. You knew your big mouth was gonna put you in a tough situation again but- what were you suppose to do?
"you, Rollo Flamme, are a monster."
he slowly turned to you, his eyes screamed murder. even if your body is shaking, from fear, from anxiety, from anger, maybe all of them at once's, but you kept your eye contact with Rollo.
You knew a comment like that will hurt him. you knew you couldn't physically harm him but you just wanted to hurt him like he planned to do the same to everyone you cared for..
the silence was deafening.
Rollo took some slow steps to you and leaned down to your level.
"take. that. back."
"no. cause i didn't say anything wrong.."
you hear Rollo take a deep breath and he quickly snaked his hand to grab the nape of your neck. you let out a gasp, from the sudden movement. he straighten his posture and brought you to his eye level.
"it's seems that those... mages.. have filled you with their poison. I'll just have to purify you myself. don't say i didn't warn you, my angel.."
he dragged you to a window and made you look outside. the entire city was filled with those flowers but... the looks of those flowers... made it look like you were in the middle of a raging firestorm. you felt your stomach drop. you felt cold shivers, and you didn't even realized that tears were falling. when you looked more, you noticed that the "fire" was slowly climbing the tower you were in.
you were about to let out a blood curdling scream but you were stopped by Rollo tying that purple handkerchief into a makeshift gag for you.
After that, he threw you, face down into the ground. Your body was shivering from fear so intensely, to the point that it feels like you lost complete control over your body. you couldn't even fight back when Rollo tied your hands together.
"i, really, am sorry for this my sweet angel~ but i have to get rid of the poison that those mages put in you... you have to be purified."
Rollo walked off and came back holding a fireplace poker. it was glowing red and you could see smoke coming off of it. where he got that, you didn't know but your attempt to get away from him was met with a wall against your back.
you felt your head spin, you were trembling to no return, the hot tears wouldn't stop, and the makeshift gag he put on you was now soak with tears, saliva, and snot.
Rollo kept walking towards you, in an agonizing slow pace.
"don't worry, my angel love~ after this, all will be forgiven~"
when he went to grab your face, he-
"MC!!"
those are.. familiar voices.. you know those voices..
"tch.. i suppose your punishment will have to wait my love. apparently, ill have to finish these pesky mages off myself."
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hurlumerlu · 3 months
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I find it quite simple
a little Not Me fic about Gumpa and Black (sort of) bonding over being older siblings :
It was an evening like many others. Yok and Gram had already left, Sean with one of them, or both of them, or off to one of Namo’s haunts, leaving Gumpa to clean the table like a dissatisfied housewife. Except this time, Black was still here.
"These fuckers, I swear," he said, contemplating the wasteland of dirty plates and empty bottles, unlit cigarette already firmly in mouth. "This is how you can tell they’re all only children."
Gumpa almost pointed out that Black generally didn’t stick around to help either, but decided against it : the kid talking about anything else than their next move was a rare enough occurrence. Better not nip it in the bud.
"I don’t know about that," he mused instead. "My younger brother has three siblings and I don’t think he’s picked up after himself even once in his life."
"That’s what elder siblings are for."
"Ha ! Good thing my sisters didn’t see it that way. I would have gone mad, always taking care of a four-people mess all by myself."
"Aren’t you taking care of a five-people mess right now ?"
"You’re helping me, aren’t you ?"
Black snorted. They’d brought the dishes to the courtyard and set out to clean them. "So, you’re the eldest of four ?"
"Two sisters, one brother. You ?"
"Eldest too, by an hour. He took his sweet time."
"A twin ?"
"You think ?"
"Okay, smartass." He flicked water at him. Black rolled his eyes, but said nothing. The heat of the day had lessened, and the night air was companionably warm – the silence too.
It remained that way until they were back inside, cigarette smoked, dishes stored, table wiped, and Gumpa took two beers from the fridge.
"About what we do," asked Black. "Do your siblings know ?"
Gumpa opened his bottle and swallowed a mouthfull. It gave him some time. "No. No one does. A few years ago, my sister – the oldest – was arrested for helping women get illegal abortions." He tensed despite himself, bracing for the usual comments and questions, but Black didn’t talk. He just kept looking at him with the aggressive focus typically reserved for their plans. "As you can guess, this was a pretty hard time for the family. Harder for her, of course, she’s not done building herself back up, but – if I can save my parents some worries over another child… I have to try, at least."
"But you didn’t tel your sister either. The oldest, I mean."
"Nah." He couldn’t help but smile.  "She’d try to help."
To his surprise, Black was smiling too, and raised his beer in an I’ll-drink-to-that gesture. It seemed as good a time as any to pry.
"And your brother, does he know ?"
The smile vanished like it’d never been there.
"We were separated," Black said, after a long enough moment that Gumpa had wondered if the conversation was over. "When our parents divorced.  Father took one, Mom the other. I tried to write, but I assume they intercepted my letters – don’t ask me why, I won’t answer. And don’t tell me that’s fucked up because I already know."
What was there to reply to that ? Gumpa took another beer and held it out. Black nodded curtly.
"I don’t want him anywhere near all that anyway. He’s not like me, he’s..." He gave a vague handwave, leaving it for Gumpa to figure out. Softer. Fragile. Better, maybe, as in worth more. "It’s ugly here, and it’s only gonna get worse."
There they were.
"Things getting worse, is that why you didn’t leave tonight ?"
"Nothing gets past you."
"Come on, Black."
"My roommate, my – the guy I’m crashing at, I told you about him."
"Todd."
"Hmm. He’s more crooked than I believed, I think. Or exactly as much, but I’m only facing it now."
"Black..."
"I don’t need comfort. I don’t need your input at all. I’ll deal with him if I have to, and that’s the end of it. Understood ?"
"Normally I’d tell you off for bossing me around under my roof, but you get a pass this time. Understood, I won’t meddle."
"Thanks."
"Don’t make me regret it."
"Oh, piss off."
The impulse came, unexpected : to ruffle the younger man’s hair, give him an embarassing hug. He didn’t indulge. They weren’t brothers.
"Gumpa ?"
"Yes ?"
"Can I stay here tonight ? I’ll sleep on the couch, and I’ll be gone first thing in the morning."
You can stay as long as you need, he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure it would be well received.
"Sean might not even come back tonight. You could sleep in his bed."
"I’d rather gouge my eyes out," replied Black quite genially, and they went back to their drink.
"I met your brother the other day."
Black, of course, doesn’t answer.
"Kid just showed up at your uni, all dressed like you and ready to poke his nose into everything. He’s in over his head, and scared shitless, but he holds on for your sake. You should be proud."
Gumpa sighs. He can’t stay long – it was a bad idea, coming here, but he had to.
"I don’t know who told him about you. And I don’t know how to convince him to trust us. But I’ll look after him, you have my word. I’m trying to make him stay at the garage. Let’s hope he’s less of a loner than you."
He rises. There is nothing more to say, nothing more to do. No point in ruminating his failures. He still looks back before he lets the curtain drop.
"If he does take me up on the offer," he says. "I’ll make him room with Sean. With any luck, that’ll piss you off enough fo you to wake up."
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bi-functional · 10 months
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Bottom right sequence reads “and when I move out—,” —> “yes. I’m sorry. I l-… love you too. Thank you.”
Now with more art !
So all this reincarnation talk for @tswwwit ‘s masterpiece has me throwing My little familiar au idea in the rings but its no where near as sweet or interesting as @kitty-serenade ‘s but if you like angst, hear me out!
Imagine a Dipper reborn with The Mark and what are his parents supposed to do? They love him sooo much they can’t possibly let him enter the Real World and be taken away by some Vile Demon!
So… they just keep him inside. They shelter him. They manipulate him and put him down all to keep him cooped up and ‘Safe’.
They care about his well being enough but… well who wouldn’t want to be known as the parents who Won against Bill Cipher? Like imagine the worst rich people ever who can’t Possibly be abusive of neglectful cause they give their baby anything he wants! They’re such good parents! Bill won’t stand a chance!
Dipper’s so broken down and rubbed raw by the constant emotional abuse that he has No concept of what living a life for himself might look like. In his eyes, he’s been trapped living the life he’s expected to lead to make his parents happy but ultimately, apparently, he’s also promised to a demon a few years down the line.
Like think of the possibilities here. Dipper who doesn’t have any Real knowledge about what Bill is and why he’s coming, he only has the info his parents have given him about how Bill will control him and take him away to do his bidding and possibly even Torture him!
Think about a Dipper who’s so dissociated and detached from his life as he realizes that he’s simply not meant to live a life for himself and that’s something he’s Never going to get.
Then you throw in Bill, who’s going to show up and rescue his sapling from this fucked up weird emotional monstrosity of a place that just Reeks of despair only to find? Unlike all the other pinetree’s he’s come for these past centuries this one… is… compliant? And imagine Bill, being reminded of a Dipper just as unresponsive and depressed from the very first time they met only now he has No Idea what has caused such a huge break in character.
No matter how much pushing and prodding Bill gives, Dipper just doesn’t budge, waiting for the inevitable. And Bill is such a narcissist that he doesn’t realize that his speech pattern Also affects Dipper’s reactions. ‘Hey Sapling, I wanna explore the woods let’s go.’ ‘Pinetree I’m tellin’ ya, it’s not worth it let’s not even bother.’ He’s doing and suggesting things he knows Dipper would like and help cheer him up but… unwittingly taking any choice or input from Dipper away. Think of it as a learned don’t speak unless spoken to kinda trauma. Bill’s not doing anything wrong! He’s just… not getting any results.
It would be such a fun concept to play with in a really heartbreaking way. Imagine a Bill who’s finally relinquished his hate for the word love, who might on occasions let it slip just for a shock factor, uk for funsies, only to come across a Dipper who recoils at the very thought because he’s simply never seen it, and thinks something like that doesn’t get to people like him.
Imagine Bill, suave and rich with the universe at his fingertips offering Dipper love and glory and curiosity, only to find out that Dipper’s family had also showered him in ‘love’ and ‘riches’.
Like… imagine thinking Bill would just say well fuck it I guess I’ll wait for the memories to kick in and then live out the rest of this lifetime when it comes, cause he wouldn’t. Imagine a Bill so frustrated and angry tearing apart his realm for /anything/ that might give him a real direction to step forward cause all the usual things he has at his disposal aren’t gonna cut it this time.
Bill who begrudgingly starts asking the questions. Real Genuine Questions that usually tumble from his saplings mouth that he can give witty clapbacks to serve as banter. Dipper being the one to give the sarcastic and clipped remarks cause he’s so guarded against this unknown even though… maybe things aren’t that bad. He starts to unwind ever so slowly as Bill learns how to properly interact with him in a way that’s beneficial to both of them.
Just… Bill coming across a Dipper that’s been through the ringer in way’s Bill never anticipated. Even if he’s found Dipper alone or at wits end, he’s always had a fire and determination. He’s always had his spirit in tact. Bill being angry and upset about the reincarnation deal for the first time /ever/ cause he hates seeing that people hurt the one thing he loves in the entire multiverse and unraveled Dipper like a cheap sweater. Like the emotions and story you could weave for this that’s fundamentally about Love and Learning and never hesitating to do whatever’s possible to make things Work.
Like grgrgrg just a Bill who’s being faced with a Dipper who’s been abused but not in any way Bill’s encountered. Dipper who’s suffered abuse of the MIND. Which is Bill’s entire domain! The one thing in the universe that’s his fundamentally! And he has absolutely no power here. Bill who wants to reach in and fix and help for the First Time and struggling not only with his inability to do anything, but with the urge to help and fix in the first place. Bill who has to take care of Dipper the Human way and just grits through it cause dammit it’s worth it. Just man come on.
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wildrangers · 2 years
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Summer Lovin’ {part 4} // Matt Boldy
Word Count: 4.1K
Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Finale
Summary: After befriending Trevor during your time away at school, you find yourself taking him up on an invitation to the Hughes Lake House.
Warnings: Smut (oral, m receiving; protected sex; dirty talk/foul language), swearing, mentions of anxiety, teeth-rotting fluff
*18+ only, minors DNI*
You both ignored Cole’s outburst, swimming alongside one another towards solid ground. When you reached dry sand, you threw yourselves onto one of the large towels the guides had laid out for everyone. You closed your eyes, still catching your breath, as you felt Matt’s large hands unbuckling your lifejacket.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm but I’m not much of an exhibitionist” you half-joked, sitting up so he could remove the damp material from your body. He chuckled, shaking his head as he unclipped and removed your helmet.
“I just want to hold you without these stupid things in the way” he explained, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you onto his chest as he laid back down. You sighed contentedly, nuzzling deeper into him as the sun began drying you off.
“Is now okay to talk? I promise I was going to wait until tonight but I feel like given recent events we can move it up” you suggested quietly, playing with the chain around his neck. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest.
“Yes, we can talk now. Thanks for saving me.” You sat up, rolling your eyes as you leaned on your elbow. “I did not save your life; you would have been okay. But I appreciate you thinking so highly of me.”
He stroked the arm you still had around his torso, waiting patiently for you to begin. “Well, clearly everyone now knows we’re dating” you started. He nodded, “And how are you feeling about that?”
You thought it over before admitting, “I honestly don’t care, it seems silly that I was so worried about it this morning.”
“There had to have been a reason you were so against it though” he pushed, trying to understand what had led to your argument. You sat up fully, pulling him with you so you could face him easier. You noticed the group’s boats approaching the shore so you quickly began explaining yourself.
“I’m generally a pretty private person, especially with romantic relationships. In the past, I’d kind of dive in head first, bringing the guy to every party or get together and I just felt it made something that should be personal and intimate into something very public. Not that I’m trying to hide it but-” you sighed. “Am I making any sense?”
“Yeah, I mean you know I’m a quiet guy so I get not wanting everyone in your business. But they’re our friends who we’re sharing a house with for the next few weeks. I don’t think it’s the same thing as being all over each other at a party” he replied, playing with your fingers.
“You’re right, but my instinct was to protect this, protect us. I love Z, but you know how he is. I didn’t want anyone else’s input or comments on our relationship when it literally just began. I’m sorry about not explaining myself better before” you said, kissing his hands.
“I’m sorry too, we should’ve just had this conversation this morning rather than rushing out when things got tense.” He searched your face, sensing something else was going on. “Are you sure that’s it, though?”
You sighed, “I guess I just really didn’t expect to develop feelings for you so quickly. And part of me thinks it would’ve been so much easier if you were playing in Canada or something because then it would be a simple, straightforward fling. But I like you and we’re both heading to Minny after this. And really seeing where this goes means navigating you being a professional hockey player.”
“I mean, you have some experience just being friends with Z, right?”
“I can’t tell you the number of weird messages I got before I set all my socials to private and turned off my DM’s. So, part of me was really nervous when I actually started to like you because that reaction was just when people thought I was friends with an NHL player. It scares me to think about what they’d be like if we were publicly in a relationship.”  
“First of all, I don’t have anywhere near the number of fangirls as Z” he smiled, making you laugh and punch his shoulder. “And secondly, we don’t have to figure that all out right now. We can see where this goes. I know you like having clear plans and rules but I don’t think that’s realistic when it comes to relationships. People and situations change, you just have to face it together as it comes, you know?”
You nodded, still surprised at his maturity, especially in the face of all that was said and done to one another today. “You’re right, my control freak was definitely showing there.”
He shook his head and kissed your forehead, “Don’t say it like that, it’s normal to be nervous about things. I just want you to tell me when you get stuck in a loop like that so I can help you out of it, that’s all.” You nodded and pressed your lips to his, cupping his face in your hands. You two pulled away as you heard the first boat hit the sand and you shot up when you saw who was approaching.
“Y/N, please let me explain-” Z started but you cut him off.
“How could you possibly explain this away Trevor?! You could’ve seriously hurt Matt! Not everything is a game!” you shouted, feeling Matt place a hand on your shoulder to try to calm you down.
“Don’t you think I know that?! I’ve been panicked trying to get to you guys to make sure you’re okay” he yelled back. “I obviously know I fucked up, you don’t need to point it out!”
“What do you expect me to do?! Not be mad right now?! You’re unbelievable!”
“Oh, I’M unbelievable?!” Trevor shouted, taking a step closer. You felt Matt tense beside you as Cole tried to get between you saying, “Look, Y/N it was just as much my fault for goofing off with him in the boat.”
“Cole, I appreciate what you’re trying to-” you started at the same time as Trevor yelled, “Have you not butt into things enough today, man?!”
You were surprised Trevor was matching your anger and even directing it towards others. He usually stayed calmed and deflected your mood when it turned sour but his face was twisted with fury.
“I cannot believe you right now, Y/N! I at least know and can own that I fucked up back there, alright? Meanwhile you’ve been lying to my face for a week!”
“Trevor, not everything is about you! And I didn’t lie, I just…kept this to myself.”
“Oh, so it wasn’t a lie when I straight up asked you if anything was going on a few days ago and you said nothing? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” he shook his head at you.
“Fine, you’re right! That was a lie and I’m sorry. But forgive me for trying to figure this out on my own without your input on the matter! Matt and I are not your business.”
He scoffed turning away from you. You saw the rest of the group huddled together by the boats, trying to give you space but clearly overhearing everything. “You’re one of my best friends, Y/N, I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”
“Trevor, do you really think you would have let it go if I told you I was dating Matt? That you wouldn’t have poked and prodded, goading us for more information? Because you would have.”
“That’s not true, Y/N, and you didn’t even give me the chance to prove it. Would I have teased you guys? Obviously, I’m me. But I wouldn’t have kept inserting myself in the middle if you had told me to back off. I know how private you are, I would’ve respected that.”
You sighed, closing your eyes. He was right, you didn’t even give him the opportunity to be a good friend to you in this situation. “You’re right, Z, I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to keep this between Matt and I at the start but I shouldn’t have straight up lied to you like that. Will you forgive me?”
“Only if you forgive me for almost murdering your boyfriend.”
“I’ll only do that if you agree to take everyone out to a nice meal this evening for all the trouble you caused today.”
He grinned at you, opening his arms, “Deal.” You met him halfway in a hug and saw everyone else slowly make their way over. “Sorry everyone, I promise no more drama the rest of the summer.”
“Z, don’t make promises you can’t keep” Quinn joked, clapping him on the back. Everyone laughed and the tension disappeared. You also apologized to everyone but they brushed you off, saying this wasn’t uncommon. Apparently, shoving up to a dozen people in a house together led to quick tempers by July.
As you walked back to the cars, you held Matt’s hand, lost in thought. “Does this mean today will be our anniversary or should it be yesterday?” Matt mused, making you giggle. “Why are you laughing? That was a serious question.”
“Sorry, you’re just such a dork” you grinned, pecking his cheek. “I vote today because if we count last night, all we’ve done in our first 24 hours is fuck and fight.”
“I mean, it’s not the worst starting point.”
“Wouldn’t you rather consider us becoming official as I plunged into the water to rescue you?” He couldn’t argue with that logic so he smiled, “You’re right. Today it is.”
That matter settled, you got into Jack’s backseat for the ride home. You rested your head on Matt’s shoulder and quickly dozed off for the ride home.
****
Matt was beyond relieved that things were settled between the two of you now. He ran his hand through your hair as he watched the scenery pass by. “Jack, will you be honest with me?” he asked and Jack quickly agreed. “Were we fooling any of you?”
Sienna laughed loudly before remembering you were asleep but you didn’t even flinch at the noise. “I mean, Hannah and I pretty much had you pegged from the start but the boys really fell for the go around from you two and Quinn.”
“Babe, you knew this whole time and you didn’t let me in on the secret?!” Jack fake pouted.
“It wasn’t my secret! And I didn’t trust you to not spill the beans the moment you were tipsy.”
Matt chuckled at their banter, finding himself agreeing with Sienna on this one—Jack loved running his mouth when he was drinking. “Does this make you guys a real thing now?” Jack asked, making Matt smile as he nodded.
“We are but nothing on social media yet except for whatever we’re all up to as a group. She apparently got flooded with people in her DM’s and comments when Z posted them together on his story. It really freaked her out.”
“That’s understandable, people can be intense. I was already in the public eye because of my job but I get why she’s hesitant to put herself out there like that” Sienna agreed. The rest of the car ride was spent chatting quietly as you dozed on his shoulder and he couldn’t have been happier if he tried.
As you pulled up to the house, he gently shook you awake. He thought the way you yawned and stretched was adorable and you caught him staring. “What?” you laughed poking him and getting out of the car, which Matt somehow found even more endearing.
You both made your way upstairs but he hesitated by the bathroom door. “Do you want to shower first?”
You poked your head over the banister to find everyone else on the back patio, soaking up the last of the sun as they waited for you both to shower and get the lake grime off before dinner. “Or you could join me and we save time and water in the process” you countered, grinning up at him.
“Well, if it’ll help the environment” Matt agreed, making you giggle before pulling him behind you into the bathroom.
****
You both made quick work of your clothes as the water warmed behind the glass. You tested it with your hand as Matt dug around in the cabinets, “There is no way they don’t have condoms in here” he mumbled to himself making you giggle. He victoriously pulled one out that had been hiding behind a stack of towels. “Does that mean every other couple here has fucked in this shower at some point?” you grimaced.
He shrugged, peppering your face with kisses before replying, “Probably but didn’t you already kind of assume that?” You had no argument there so you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him deeply making him groan into your mouth. He backed up to enter the shower only to trip on the lip of the tub. Once you were sure he was okay, you doubled over in laughter.
“Babe, really? This is not setting the mood at all” he whined making you laugh more. “Plus, we can’t take forever, as much as I’d love to.”
You nodded in agreement following him into the shower, occasionally breaking your kisses to giggle again, much to Matt’s embarrassment. His hand began circling your clit, drawing a moan from your lips and making you forget all about his earlier mishap. He smirked proudly before kissing you again all while teasing you as the water coursed around you.
You pulled away to drop to your knees before him. “I really wanted to do this last night you know” you teased, taking him in your hand and slowly pumping the length of him. He moaned at the tight grip you had on his cock. “Well, I won’t be stopping you this time” he ground out as you ran your tongue softly along the length of him before sucking on his tip. “Shit, Y/N.”
You smirked before bobbing your head on his dick, your mouth meeting your hands at his base as you took him fully into your mouth. You continued the motion as quiet swears escaped his mouth. “Do you like that, Matty?” you asked, his nickname sounding filthy as you continued stroking him.
“Fuck, you know it does” he replied making you chuckle. “But I think your pussy will feel even better.”
You’d already felt yourself heating up as you worked him but his words made you pulse with desire. You stood up to kiss him as he made quick work of the condom. He spun you around, pressing you into the slick tile before entering you much faster than the night before.
“Shit, you’re soaked for me. Have you just been waiting for me to fuck you like this all day?” he asked, his words making you tighten around him. God, who would have expected this man to have such a deliciously dirty mouth?
“No, I’d been thinking a lot of about Z to be honest with you” you goaded.
“Well, if that’s the case…” he said, pulling out and making you whine. “I’m sorry, I was kidding, please put it back in.”
“Only good girls get fucked, you should know that Y/N” he murmured, teasing your entrance with his tip causing you to arch further into him.
“I’ll be so good for you, Matty, please” you whined and he obliged, pushing into you harder this time at the insult you’d thrown his way. “God, you fuck me so good” you moaned as he kept up his relentless pace. Your moans and the sound of him slamming into you from behind filled the room and the filthy noises sent a thrill down your spine.
“Do you like how tight my pussy is for you?” you questioned causing him to groan in your ear. His head dropped to your shoulder as he nodded, his fingers deftly finding your clit again. “I could stay buried in you all night, baby, but we got to wrap this up soon.”
You nodded, losing yourself in the feel of him filling you up while he rubbed you out. He gripped your hips so tightly you were sure you’d have bruises in the morning but you didn’t care as he lifted you off the floor to fuck you even deeper, causing you to moan and squeeze your eyes shut as you felt your orgasm building.
“I’m so close, please don’t stop” you panted, slamming back into him. This time, he allowed you to meet him halfway and the two of you grinding into each other
quickly sent you over the edge. You lost your footing as your knees gave out, Matt smoothly pulling you to his chest to keep you upright as he chased his own high.
He began losing his rhythm so you knew he was close as you said, “Please, Matty, I want you to cum for me.” Your words snapped whatever hold he had over himself and he groaned as he held your hips to his, shuddering as he came.
“Fuck, Y/N” he said a moment later, peppering your shoulders with kisses. He quickly pulled out, making you whine at the loss of him as he leaned out of the shower to toss out the condom. “No need to whine, I’m right here babe” he smirked. “Here, let’s clean up quick” he said reaching for what he knew was your bar of soap.
He lathered his hands up before massaging the suds into your skin. You leaned back into his chest until he finished, handing you the soap so you could return the favor. You made quick work of it, leaning up to grab the shampoo all the guys shared. “You have to lean down a bit babe” you laughed trying to reach the top of his head.
He smiled and kneeled down, placing gentle kisses on your belly as you massaged his scalp. Despite his protests, you grabbed your own conditioner and applied it to the ends of his hair. “Matthew, 2-in-1’s aren’t a real thing, okay?”
“Whatever you say” he hummed, simply enjoying the feel of your hands in his hair. As you finished, he stood up, jokingly pretending to squirt the guy’s shampoo into your hair.
“What did I just say?!” you laughed, making him chuckle as he reached above you to grab your actual shampoo. “I really have to thank whatever ex taught you to give scalp massages” you murmured.
“She ended up being pretty awful, so maybe not” he half-joked. You turned at the change in his tone. “Do you want to talk about it?” you questioned as he moved onto conditioning your hair. He shook his head, “Someday, but right now I just want to be here with you.” 
His answer made you grin and you gave him a quick kiss before shutting off the water. As you both dried yourselves, you checked the time on your phone, grimacing at how long you’d taken. You had maybe ten minutes before someone came looking for you both.
“Here’s the plan, Boldy. I’m going to dry my hair in here, you go to your room and get dressed. Pick out a dress from my closet and bring it back to me.”
“Aye, aye captain” he saluted before leaving the room. He returned a few moments later, somehow having picked out your favorite sundress from the ones you’d brought.
“Great choice, Matty, thank you” you said, slipping it on. You applied your makeup as efficiently as possible but you felt his eyes on you the whole time. “Okay, stop gawking and let’s head out weirdo.”
****
As Matt’s feet hit the stairs, he saw Quinn poke his head around the corner, seemingly to call for you both to hurry up. “Oh, perfect timing, let’s go.”
The restaurant was only a ten-minute walk, so you all opted against driving so everyone could enjoy drinking without two people having to DD. He smiled slightly as you swung your hands together between the two of you, chatting it up with Z. Once you were in viewing distance of the other patrons, Matt gave your hand a brief kiss before letting it go, wanting to respect your desire for privacy. You beamed up at him, mouthing ‘thank you’ before following Sienna inside.
The restaurant was owned by family friends so they placed your group in a private section, a curtained door separating you from the other guests. Matt settled into his seat beside you. Z took the other spot next to you, quickly capturing your attention with a story.
Awhile later, your appetizers arrived along with your drinks. “To one more rascal joining us for the summer!” Jack toasted to Cole, causing a cheer to erupt from the group. You all dug into the apps, everyone’s volume increasing as more drinks were consumed.
A few hours later, Matt put his napkin on top of his plate. He felt you loop your arm through his and he turned to see you smiling at him with slightly glazed eyes, “Hi Matty” you slurred, making him chuckle.
“Hi, darling, did you enjoy your dinner?” he asked and you nodded eagerly. “It’s been great, the best part is I guilted Z into footing the bill” you giggled.
“I know, you were very clever with that before” he smiled and you beamed proudly up at him, placing a quick kiss on his nose before turning to Sienna, who had called your name. After Z settled the tab, Matt helped you to your feet.
“Stop fussing, I’m fine!” you hissed, defiantly pulling away to try and prove your point. He let you go but stayed close behind as you and Sienna held onto one another to keep from stumbling during the short walk home.
“Bolds I have a small request for you” Trevor whispered, throwing his arm around Matt’s shoulders. Matt rolled his eyes but motioned for him to continue. “Do you think you could corral your girl into your room for the night? I want to have someone over.”
“Sure, I can manage that.” Trevor thanked Matt before stopping behind the group to pull out his phone and call his new girl. The group was safely out of sight of any random passersby, so Matt stepped up to you, pulling you into his side, Jack doing the same with Sienna. “Hey beautiful, how about you spend the night with me again?”
You paused to think it over, the house quickly coming into view. “I’ll allow it but no funny business, mister, I am way too far gone” you hiccupped.
“Don’t worry, it wasn’t even on my mind babe” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I don’t know if I should appreciate that or be insulted” you mumbled as he helped you up the front stairs and into the house. He waved to the others, continuing to guide you up to his room. He left you standing by the closed bedroom door, quickly pulling down the covers to help you settle in.
“I’m going to grab a wipe for your makeup, just wait here, okay?” You nodded, sitting on the bed to remove your shoes. Matt couldn’t have been gone more than a minute but he still returned to find you curled up and asleep. He smiled taking in the sight of your tussled hair, mouth slightly open as you breathed deeply.
He grabbed a few more supplies before settling on the floor in front of your sleeping frame. He gently removed your makeup before massaging a wet washcloth over your face to get what he had missed. He scooped out some of your moisturizer, applying a thick layer to your skin, figuring it would be better to use too much than too little. He gently propped you up despite your sleepy protests, replacing your dress with one of his tees before tucking you in under the covers. He placed the water and Tylenol he had gotten for you on your nightstand before changing into shorts. He was about to climb into bed beside you but couldn’t help himself from taking a quick photo of you before turning off the lights.
He felt as though he’d already disturbed you enough by doing your nighttime routine for you, so he settled into his side of the bed. Not a moment later, he felt you flip over and wrap your arms around his torso, resting your head against his back. He smiled before whispering, “Good night beautiful."
A/N: I'm sorry this one took a bit longer to get out, I had to edit it down quite a bit. I'm hoping to get the next part up some time this weekend/early next but I don't think this story has much more to it so it may resolve itself soon. As always, thanks for the love :)
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me-uglypretty · 2 years
Note
(tbh i don’t think you’re going to need to rewatch runaways because i may just end up summarizing it all for you)
just gotta say that i was not expecting to be getting the parents pov on what went down, it definitely did a good job on making the audience understand how they know each other and make us already peg them as the threat compared to how they brought the kids together in the first episode but made us feel sympathetic towards them based off of the parents
((man, i really do love it when shows go back to tell both sides of the same story))
the way they are totally setting up nico with alex and karolina with chase is so stereotypical though, it bugs me how people mostly see relationships between two people of the opposite sex and expect it to be romantic and not just platonic BUT i am 100% here for the triangle between karolina, chase, and gert (((good thing i know the future though *wink*)))
OH MY FUCKING GOODNESS IS THAT A DINOSAUR PLEASE TELL ME THAT’S A DINOSAUR PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
omg am i gonna have to fight mr. wilder to protect molly?! *cracks knuckles* [fast forward to the next episode] oop i am gonna have to fight the wilders
molly is such a mood, she’s giving me ‘fuck around and find out’ vibes when using her abilities
((((but the car scene where she’s talking with mrs. wilder has my heart in pieces))))
damn we got lots of info on nico in this episode.
1. she has to use a chair to grab the staff (aka she really is that short)
2. her parents really need to go to therapy
3. she lets alex’s smoothness blind her to the biggest red flag of all- he drives a prius (this a joke i swear) (goodness i hope you don’t drive a prius) (i’m moving on now)
YES YES YES IT IS A DINOSAUR!!!!!! right? AND IT’S SOMEHOW CONNECTED TO GERT?!
overall, so far i am loving how they’re giving little glimpses/hints of everyone’s abilities!
(((((i’m going to try to get some rest now, so until next time and good day/evening/night to you!)))))
~ input runaway anon
First of all, YOU GOT TO MY FAV PART WHICH IS THE DINOSAUR!!! I LOVE THAT LIL BABY. GERT AND OLD LACE IS EVERYTHING. I love dinosaurs aka another reason why I wanted to watch the show.
The conflicting feelings I have between the kids and their parents like you’re gonna get annoyed or feel sympathy for them later on in the season. I just wanna go off saying AH RICH KIDS RICH PARENTS AHH RICH PEOPLE PROBLEMS. Also, there’s one scene with the love triangle argument that’s just funny and totally made for the lgbtq+ cause it mentioned another ship that i will not deny how much i ship and hoped with all the delusions in me that it'll happen. 
NICO IS SO TINY ((Molly is the youngest and she’s still taller???)). THAT SCENE IS SO FUNNY CAUSE HER MUM DID IT WITH SO MUCH EASE??? Her height went to her gay level I guess. I think ALL their parents need therapy. Alex is messy, that’s all I gotta say (pls this input is the funniest, and nope, I do not drive a prius and it’s giving the type of vibe that I do not want).
THANK YOU FOR SHARING YOUR THOUGHTS! and the mess of this show is just the beginning ahaHA
(((I hope you got a good rest!!! and have an even better day/night ahead!)))
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sillysnack · 2 years
Text
art imitates life (2/2)
& (platonic) , / (romantic)
pairing: camilo madrigal / reader
prns used: they/them (told in 2nd person)
word count: 1344
read part one here | masterlist
— — — — —
6 PM arrived quickly.
Camilo made sure to take a nap after an exhausting day of running around town with energetic children before meeting up with you in the same bakery you worked at. He also made sure to bring the collection of romantic short stories with him.
He puts on his signature ruana before walking out of his room, his mind still half-asleep.
“Where are you going?”
Camilo turns to Mirabel. Why’s Mami with her? And Dolores?
“Bakery.”
Dolores narrows her eyes at Camilo. “Why?” He answers, “I thought you’d know why.”
“We don’t.” Mirabel gestures to herself and Pepa.
“I’m seeing someone?”
Pepa gasps. “Like a date?” Camilo shrugs. “I think?” His face is peppered with kisses. “My son is all grown up now! Have fun, Cami. I’ll tell this to your papa later. Don’t stay out too late! Or if you’re spending the night at their place, just let Dolores know.”
Camilo nods. “Gracias, mami.” He turns to Mirabel, “You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“You. On a date?” Camilo nods. “Tia, I think he’s pranking us.”
“I’m not! Dolores knows what I’m talking about!” Dolores just shrugs. “I didn’t hear anything, sorry Cami. You’re on your own.”
WHAT..??
“You two, leave him alone. Whether or not this partner of his is real, at least he’s going out. I trust you, cariño. You should bring them over tomorrow.” Camilo nods. “I’ll ask them if they’re free. Bye!”
— — —
6 PM arrived quickly for the both of you. Camilo, however, did not.
“I was starting to think you forgot.” You walk up to Camilo, holding the same book he brought with him. He smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. Mirabel talked to me for a while. Anyways, there’s this place that papa and I used to go to every weekend.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Used to?” Camilo shrugs. “We just… stopped..? After Casita broke down. I don’t not miss it but… I guess I mentioned this to you because I like you and I want to show you a place that’s special to me?”
“You like me?” You tease. Camilo nods. “Like, ‘like-like’? The one where you want to hold hands and do ‘couple stuff’? Like that?”
Camilo nods. “Yes..? I don’t know, maybe not. I think I’ve read this book too many times.” You laugh and hold his hand. “Don’t know if my input matters but, I think you like fast-paced love stories and you wish to have one of your own,” Camilo pretends to look at some other event around you two to hide his blushing face, “you know, I’d be willing to be the love interest in your story.” You plant a kiss on the back of his hand. “That is, if you let me.”
Camilo Madrigal is many things: charming, funny, kind, extroverted, cute, but he is not immune to smooth lines like that. Especially coming from you.
Camilo manages to choke out an answer, “Of course. I’d… I’d love that.” He turns to you, “What are your favorite stories from the collection? We could… recreate some of the stories here. It’s been something I want to try out.”
You’re lost in your thoughts, looking for your answers to Camilo’s first question.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to, though-”
“I’d like that very much, actually! By the way, where’s this place you were talking about earlier?”
Camilo tightens his grip on your hand, “Try to catch up,” and starts running. You did try to catch up. “Are we really supposed to be running?” You hold your book close to your chest. Thank God none of us are bringing any food.
You mindlessly follow Camilo through the town, silently thanking God that there weren't too many people around. Given that the sun had set early.
The two of you stop in front of an empty house.
“Papa told me he and Mami were supposed to stay here. They planned on moving out from Casita and raising us in this very home.”
You turn to him, “What made them not go through with it?”
“Isabela and Dolores. Apparently they were so close to the point Isabela didn’t want her cousin to live in a house that’s, like, just a few kilometers away.” You hum in response. “Makes sense.”
The two of you stay silent.
“You didn’t answer my question a while ago.” You turn to Camilo. “My bad. If I had to pick favorites… I’m going to do the top three things, by the way. Third is probably the one where two teens - like us - sneak out at night to stargaze.” You two sit on the floor. You open your book and show Camilo the story you’re talking about.
“Oh, that one is top three for me too! You sure you aren’t just copying me so I like you more?”
You shut close the book in your hands. “You like me? What happened to ‘maybe not’?”
“You put me on the spot!” You cheekily smile at Camilo, he turns red. “You’re doing it again!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m merely bringing up a conversation we had hours ago.” You rest yourself on his lap. “How am I putting you on the spot?”
Camilo buries his face in his hands. “Are you being serious right now?” You shrug. “Tell me about what you think are the top three best stories in this little collection we’ve both read. Go on, pretend this is a normal moment between friends.”
Friends? That’s what we are?
“Aw, friends? Lástima que quería que fuéramos más que amigos.” (Too bad I wanted us to be more than friends.) Camilo hopes his last statement made you blush. It did. You abruptly sit up and grab your book to hide your face.
“Cat got your tongue?” You playfully shove him. “Shut up.” Camilo puts his hands up in surrender. “I will. Only if you put the book down, such a gorgeous face like yours shouldn’t be hidden.”
“You didn’t answer my question…” Camilo sighs. “Fine. If I answer, will I get free food tomorrow?” You look up at the ceiling. “How about free food for life? Starts when we get married.” Camilo opens his mouth in shock. Marriage, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad.
“There’s a field nearby, would you like to stargaze with me?” Camilo just nods and stands up, reaching his hand out to you. You intertwine your fingers together while the two of you walk towards a nearby field, it was probably this house’s supposed-to-be backyard.
“About your question, my second favorite is the story of the man admiring his wife playing with their children. It’s my second favorite because… I don’t know.” You narrow your eyes at Camilo as the two of you lay on the grass beside each other, “I don’t believe that last part.”
“Mkay. It’s my second favorite because I don’t have to ask you to recreate it with me. Just seeing you with the children in town this morning was so… breathtaking.”
You look at him. Seeing you right now is equally as breathtaking.
“Your all-time favorite?”
Camilo props himself up with his elbow, resting his chin on his hand. “The one where the main character talks about their love for their friend. It doesn’t seem like the friend likes them back but, the character never confessed, so…”
“It’s a cliffhanger. I don’t like them, do you?” Camilo’s lying beside you again. “No… I prefer to know what happens to the characters.” You hum in response, “Me too.”
The two of you are silent for a while. It was pleasant.
“Would it be too straightforward if I asked you to be my partner? Like, romantically?” Camilo nervously tugs at his ruana, waiting for your answer. “Yeah. But I’m not against it. I’d love to be your significant other.”
Camilo sits up and you do the same. “Significant other is too long of a word though, how about I start calling you ‘mi amor’?” You leave a soft kiss on his cheek. “Me gustaría mucho, mi novio.” (I’d like that very much, my boyfriend).
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beth-yeet365 · 3 years
Text
“Could I have your number?”
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Requested by @m-a-r-z​ - thank you for the request <3
I was wondering if you could do a Bradley Simpson fluff like maybe I’m a friend of Tristan’s and we meet for the first time.
Pairing: Bradley Will Simpson x fem!reader
Genre: fluff (there is a small smidgeon of angst in the start)
Word count: 1.6k+
Summary: your best friend encourages you to go to a bar to meet his friends and who knows? maybe you might find a new one...
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**CREDIT TO OWNER OF THIS GIF**
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“Come on Y/NNN,” Tristan begs you.
“I just want to be at home, Tris,” you tell him, half lying.
Tristan, your best friend, has tried for the past 5 minutes to get you to meet his friends at a bar since you had only met them in passing and Tris wanted bring his best friends together so you could be one group of best friends. 
He had been asking for a while now and each time you turned him down coming up with different excuses each time like “I’m not in the mood to go out” or “I’m not feeling that well, raincheck?”.
Truth is, you were worried they mightn’t like you or you would feel excluded because you’re new to the group and they’ve been friends a long time now and therefore feel excluded. Like an outsider.
Also a guy you didn’t have a name for, ‘cause you only met them briefly, was so handsome with the most gorgeous curls.
“Y/N,” Tristan began, worried now. “What is it? You keep turning it down.”
You could see on his face he was worried. 
“Okay, well,” you began and cleared your throat before continuing. “I-I am just worried that they mightn’t like me or because you guys have been friends for a long time now that I will feel...” You trailed off.
“Y/N, they will love you,” Tristan assured you, grasping both your arms to make you at him. “They’re good guys and you won’t feel like you’re not there. I won’t let that happen, Okay?”
You sighed and looked anywhere but his face.
It had always been hard for you to meet new people but maybe now it’s a good time to meet new people - break out of your shell, you thought.
“Okay,” you began, seeing his face light up at your answer. “Just let me get ready quickly:” You told him, gesturing down to the joggers and oversized sweater you were wearing and you hair in a bun you had slept in. 
“Fair, I’ll be waiting here,” he said and sat down on your sofa.
You went your room and went straight to your dresser.
There you found some simple, dark blue jeans, a black, short sleeved t-shirt and an oversized zip-up sweater. Very casual.
You were already going out of your comfort zone so you definitely weren’t wearing something out of your comfort zone.
You looked in the mirror to determine what to do with your hair. 
You decided to take it out and throw it in a pony tail because of the kinks in your hair from the bun. 
You also put on some lip balm, mascara and tinted brow gel to make it like you at least tried.
You walked out of your room and saw Tristan look up form his phone.
“Ready?” he asked. You nod as confirmation.
You moved to the hallway of your flat to put on your shoes.
You locked the door and went down to Tris’ car.
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You arrived at the bar and Tris stopped the car.
He looked at you again as if asking if you were still okay with it you smiled back.
You appreciated how much he cared for you.
You went into the bar and were instantly met with the loud voices of various groups of people sitting and talking with each other.
You felt Tris take your hand and leading you to a booth in the back where the three guys and a girl you hadn’t met before were sitting in and deep in conversation.
You guessed they chose the back to avoid recognition as much as possible.
You stopped at the table they were sitting at and the four before stopped their conversation.
“Guys, this is Y/N,” Tris introduced. “You have met her before.”
“Yeah I remember you,” James started. “I’m James and this is Kirstie, my fiancée.” He introduced. 
His fiancée held out her hand to shake yours, which you gladly took. 
“I’m Brad.”
Shit.
That’s the handsome guy with the most gorgeous curls. 
So his name is Brad.
Oh Lord, he’s so attractive.
“And I’m Connor, but call me Con,” the guy with the pastel pink hair said.
Connor sat in towards the wall on his right with Brad to his left.
Brad moved in a bit to make some space for you to sit beside him and you gratefully took the invitation. You were sitting shoulder to shoulder since the booth was a bit on small side. Sitting this close
“I’m just getting a chair,” Tris said.
The conversations ran smoothly and they included you in the conversations. 
At first you didn’t give that much input in the conversations ‘cause you were still nervous but soon enough you loosened up a bit more and you made jokes with them. You felt at ease.
You do however notice that Kirstie looks at Brad with a raised eyebrow occasionally.
“It’s so good to have another girl today, Y/N,” Kirstie says. “Sometimes there’s just too much testosterone when you’re the only one.”
“Tell me about it,” you add. “Do you know how hard it is to keep up with him?” You ask, pointing at Tris. 
“Hey! We’re not that bad!” Connor exclaims.
“Well, you guys can’t feel ‘cause you share the hormone,” Kirstie answers.
“Us people with estrogen can definitely feel it at times,” you point between yourself and Kirstie. 
You laugh again but you stop when you feel a hand on your thigh.
You looked up to see Brad talking to James with his hand on your thigh.
Oh goodness, a really hot guy has his hand on your thigh.
This is not a drill people! His hand is on. Your. Thigh!
You could feel your face heat up. You weren’t used to this sort of attention from a guy.
You looked around for the bathroom and find the sign for the bathroom.
“I just need to go to the bathroom quick, I’ll be right back.” You say to the group.
“I also need to go,” Kirstie also says. “Scooch, James.”
James scooched and Kirstie made it out of the booth.
You go to the bathroom with Kirstie even though you only wanted to go in there to calm down and control your thoughts.
When you don’t go into a booth Kirstie looks at you with a questioning gaze.
“I thought you wanted to go to the bathroom?” She asks.
“Umm,” you think of what to say to her. “Not really.”
Really, Y/N? That’s the best you can think of?
“Is it Brad?” This throws you off.
“W-what are you talking about?” You stutter out.
“Sweetheart, I noticed it from when he introduced himself,” she tells you.
Your face heats up and you look anywhere but her face, fiddling with you fingers.
“Are you okay?” She asks when you don’t say anything.
“I’m just not used to this stuff,” you start. “Hell, it even took Tris a long time to convince me to come meet you guys ‘cause I’m not one to meet new people and then Brad is so pretty and handsome and puts his hand on my thigh and my heart keeps racing so much and I don’t frickin’ know why!”
You finish your rant with deep breaths.
“Well, he looks at you when you don’t notice,” Kirstie throws Brad under the bus.
“Really?” You ask to which she nods. 
Than you piece it together.
“That’s why you’ve throwing him those looks!”
Again, she nods.
“Why don’t you take a few seconds to calm down, clear your mind and go back out and remember that Brad also feels what you feel but I actually to go the bathroom so I’m gonna go now.”
You laugh and nod.
She went into a booth and you took a deep breath before going out the door.
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“I need to get going now, “ Connor tells you and motions for you and Brad to move out the booth and you both comply.
“Yeah, Kirstie and I should probably head home as well,” James says.
“Yeah let’s all go home now, do you need a lift on the way home?” Tristan asks Brad.
“Yeah, thanks, mate,” he answers.
You all hug each other and all move to your separate cars.
“Shotgun!” Brad declares and you smile at it.
You move to the backseat while he claims the prized front seat of Tris’ car.
“I’m gonna leave Y/N off first and then you, Brad, ‘cause Y/N lives closest,” Tris tells both of you and you nod.
During the short drive that was the journey to you flat you heard some music.
You arrived at your flat and you got of your car.
“Bye guys, nice to meet you Brad,” you say and they both return the goodbye.
You’re almost at the door of the apartment complex you rent your flat when you hear a door open. 
“Hey Y/N!” Brad calls out to you and you turn around and see him jogging up to you.
“You almost forgot your phone,” He tells you.
“Oh! Thank you,” you thank him.
“You’re welcome.”
He turns around, walks a few steps before turning around to face you again.
“Could I have your number?” He asks you and you smile shyly and nod.
He unlocks his phone for you and you type in your number to his contacts.
“Thanks,” he says breathlessly.
“You’re welcome.”
You move to kiss his cheek and he blushes and you can’t keep that goofy smile off your face.
“Bye,” you both say simultaneously.
When he’s in the car again you unlock the door of the complex.
You do a little happy dance but nobody needs to know that.
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specialagentsergio · 3 years
Text
love, in ink
summary: Spencer wants to do something special to commemorate your relationship. (or, reader and spencer get a couples’ tattoo)
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
category: fluff
content warnings: tattoos & tattooing, one very light sexual reference bc i'm a hoe
a/n: i recently got my first tattoo and i’ve been absolutely obsessed with tattoos ever since, so here you go. location and design was purposefully left vague so you can imagine anything you want, but i do write reader as already having at least two tattoos.
word count: 2.9k
masterlist
Spencer’s been thinking about it for years.
Two years, eight months, and twenty days to be exact.
Looking back, four months and ten days was pretty early to be thinking of something so permanent. But he couldn’t help it—contrary to how he thinks people perceive him, he’s a romantic. A bit of a hopeless one, really.
In any case, he had been right. Almost three years after your first date, you’re still together and absolutely in love. You live together, your lives are inseparably entwined. Every day has been an affirmation of the conclusion he came to three months into your relationship—you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
So really, four months and ten days wasn’t all that early to think of getting a tattoo with you.
He doesn’t have any, but you do, and he’s always loved them. He likes running his fingers over them, pressing kisses to them, rubbing moisturizer into them, and aiding you in making sure they’re all well covered in sunscreen before you’re going to be outside for a while.
He’d never really considered getting a tattoo until he saw how much you loved yours. It’s one of your favorite forms of self-expression, you’ve told him. You say the body art helps you feel more confident, comfortable, and at home in your body. Confidence in your body—that’s definitely something he could do with. But above everything, because it’s something you love, and Spencer loves you, it’s an experience he wants to share with you.
He brings up the idea over dinner forty-five days before your three-year anniversary. You’re reading while you eat—a common occurrence in your home for the both of you. He spins his fork in his hand a few times, then carefully sets it down and says your name.
You hold up a finger to ask him to wait; he watches your eyes move across the page as you finish the paragraph you’re on. Your attention is on him as soon as you’re finished. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He’s nervous—he knows you love him, but what if you say no anyways? What if you don’t want to get a tattoo with him? They are permanent, after all. “It’s… I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he admits.
Your eyes widen when you pick up on his anxiety. “Oh god, are you breaking up with me?”
He nearly chokes on the water he’d nervously sipped. “Wha—no, no!” he rushes to assure. “I—I love you. I don’t—I don’t ever want that.”
You take in a deep breath, carefully putting your book aside. “Alright. Okay.”
“Why would you think I was breaking up with you?” he asks, concerned about the conclusion you’d jumped to. “Are… are you not happy? Are things not good between us, for you? I thought—well, think, they are. Maybe I’m wrong? I could be. I’ve never been the best at reading social clues. Have I missed something? I’m sorry if I have. I--”
“Spence, Spencer.” You interrupt his nervous rambling and reach across the table, placing your hand on top of his. “Things are great between us for me. I love you, too. You were just so serious when you said you wanted to talk, it caught me off guard. It’s… not an uncommon way for a conversation about breaking up to start.”
“Oh. Sorry. I—I didn’t realize it could come off like that,” he says quietly.
“It’s okay. As long as we’re not breaking up, I’m happy.” You give his hand a squeeze before leaning back in your chair. “So, what is it you want to talk about?”
“Right.” He squares his shoulders and wipes his damp palms on his pants. “Our three year anniversary is in forty-five days, and I was thinking to celebrate, maybe we could… get a tattoo together?”
Immediately you break into the most beautiful smile—he’s happy to have an eidetic memory when it comes to moments like this. “Really?” you ask, body tense with excitement.
“Yeah. Really,” he confirms. “I, um… I guess you’re on board, then?”
“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Spencer this is so exciting! Your first tattoo!”
He doesn’t bother to correct you about calling it his first. He’s got no plans to get more, so this could very well be his only tattoo. But he doesn’t want to dampen the moment, so instead he says, “I don’t really have any ideas for it. I just want to do it with you.”
“Wait here.” You disappear into the bedroom and return with a folded piece of notebook paper. It’s worn and wrinkled, the edges curled in. He unfolds it carefully to find the page covered in your handwriting. Some of the writing looks more rushed than other parts. Some sections are in blue ink, some are in black. It’s clear you’ve been compiling this list for quite a while.
He reads it at his normal, rapid pace, but it takes him a few moments to understand it. “Is this a list of…?”
You nod. “Tattoo ideas.” He looks up at you in… well, in awe, and you shrug. “I don’t want to just get your name on me, as nice as it is.”
“How long have you been working on this?”
“Um.” The answer seems to embarrass you a little. “A… a couple of years.”
“Years?” he repeats. “But you never said anything.”
“I didn’t want you to feel pressured into getting a tattoo,” you say. “Since they are, you know, permanent.”
“Relatively.” He looks back to the paper, running his fingertips over the indents left by the pressure of the pen. “They naturally fade with age, and can age prematurely through sun exposure.”
“Yeah. Listen, it’s okay if you don’t like any of my ideas.”
Spencer shakes his head—he likes a lot of them, but he already knows which one he wants—he knew as soon as he read it. He points. “This one.”
You bend down to see it and smile. “I was hoping you’d pick that one.”
“It’s perfect,” he says, and presses a kiss to your cheek.
---
You handle pretty much everything, contacting one of your favorite artists and pitching the idea. You’ve been tattooed by her before—specifically, she did his favorite of your tattoos. So he’s happy to have her do this one, too, putting down the deposit without hesitation. The artwork she sends back is everything he pictured and more. She’s taken the idea and brought it to life better than he could ever hope to. A few tweaks here and there, then the date is set. You’ll be getting tattooed the Friday before your anniversary.
Yours will be done first, near the end of his work day—when he arrives, you should be just about done. It’s not exactly how he imagined it happening, but you said it would be better this way. If he sits and watches you get the entire thing done, you think he’ll end up psyching himself out about his own tattoo.
“Is it really that bad?” he had asked.
You shrug. “Well, it’s pain, so it’s obviously not super fun, but it’s tolerable. You overreacted when I stubbed my toe last week, so I think it’s probably best if you’re not there watching me the entire time.”
“I don’t like seeing you in pain,” he defends sheepishly.
“Exactly. I’ll keep you updated with texts and pictures, though, okay?”
He agrees, because honestly, you’re probably right.
Getting into bed with you the night before he asks, “What does it feel like? Besides it just hurting.”
“It’s different for everyone. It also depends on where you get it.” Spencer bumps your arm with his nose, silently requesting for you to adjust your position in a way that allows him to press as much of his body as he possibly can against yours. You place your hand in his hair once he’s settled, as usual, then continue. “It does kind of… vibrate. That’s something I didn’t expect going into my first tattoo.”
“Vibrate?” he repeats. “That’s… well, I guess it makes sense, considering how tattoo machines work.”
“Mm-hmm. But I wouldn’t worry about that part if I were you. Last time I checked, vibration isn’t a sensation that bothers you.” A very slight tug on his hair. “The opposite, actually.”
The squeak he makes is involuntary. “I, um… okay. I’ll—I’ll keep that in mind.”
He’s treated to a little laugh, but then your tone changes. “Seriously, though, Spencer. It’s okay if it ends up being too much, or just not for you, and you can’t finish the tattoo. Or if you just don’t want to finish it. I won’t be mad.”
He’s taken by surprise at first. It is a worry that he’s been harboring, that all the sensory input will be too much, but he’s never said anything about it, so how did you know?
Then again, it’s you. Of course you know. You always do.
“Okay,” he whispers. “Thank you.”
---
“Hey, how can I help you?”
Spencer looks up from his phone to the woman who’s just come into the front of the shop from the back. As promised, you’d kept him updated on your tattoo process with texts and pictures.
“Um, I—I have an appointment?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he’s really nervous—you were definitely right to have him come in later than you so he doesn’t have enough time to get really worked up.
“Who’s it with?”
“Megan.”
She glances over her shoulder. “Megan is currently with someone. I can go ask her how long the wait will be.”
“No, it’s okay, she’s working on my partner. We’re—we’re getting tattoos together,” he explains.
“Oh, fun! I’ll lead you back, then.”
He follows her to an open doorway. Your body is still and unmoving; Megan is hunched over your skin. You smile when you see him. “Hi, Spencer.”
“Hey. Um, how’s it going?”
You sigh. “Well, to be honest, I think this is going to be my last tattoo.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Megan says without looking up.
The little angry huff you make before replying with “I know” makes him smile, and his nerves settle a little. “Why do I do this to myself?”
Spencer can tell it’s just a rhetorical question, asked in good humor, but he can’t stop himself from answering it regardless.
“There are many different reasons that could drive someone to get a tattoo despite the pain, including the adrenaline and endorphins the body produces in response to pain, stress relief, and the need for creative expression.”
“Stress relief?” you repeat. “I haven’t heard that one before.”
“It is a strange concept at face value. An example, though, would be getting a tattoo to mark the end of a difficult period in your life. Some people get them to symbolize personal difficulties or trauma, or to memorialize people they’ve lost. It can be a form of catharsis that helps them process painful emotions, memories, or other stressful feelings.”
Your head tilts as you take the information in. “That’s interesting.”
“Alright.” Megan leans back. “It’s done. Go take a look.”
Spencer follows you to the full length mirror. “Oh, wow,” you breathe out as soon as you see it. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Spencer.” You touch his arm. “What do you think?”
It takes him a few moments to answer because he’s been overcome with emotion. He’s overwhelmed with just how much you love and care for him to have permanently embedded a reminder of him into your skin. “It’s perfect,” he whispers.
“It is,�� you agree.
You return to Megan and she takes a few photos of the tattoo, promising to text them to you, then gets started on the aftercare. “You know the drill,” she says, but still gives you the instructions for what to do as the artwork heals. He only barely registers what she’s saying—his eyes are glued to the tattoo.
“Okay, let me get everything switched out and cleaned up, and then we can start on yours, Spencer.”
“Hmm?” He tears his gaze away to find Megan looking at him. “Oh, right. Okay.” He sits off to the side with you while she disposes of supplies, replaces them with new, sterile ones, and wipes everything down.
She works fast—before he knows it, Megan has shaved and cleaned his skin, and has him in front of the mirror as she places the stencil. It takes a few tries to get it just right. He apologizes when she has to print the stencil again, but she waves him off. “It’s your tattoo and it’s going to be on you forever. I want you to be one-hundred percent happy with the placement.”
His nerves spike back up when he’s settled down and all ready to be tattooed. You sit in a chair on the opposite side of him than Megan, and when you offer your hand, he grabs it immediately.
“Breathe, baby,” you say gently. “Try not to tense up too much.”
He does try, but still jumps a little when Megan’s gloved hand touches him. “Sorry,” he says breathlessly. “I’m a little nervous.”
“Oh, no, you’re fine,” she reassures. “I won’t start until you’re ready.”  
“I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Okay. I’ll start with just one small line.”
It’s a strange sensation, unlike anything he’s felt before, but it’s… not horrible. He’s been scratched by cats in the past, and it feels kind of like that, but hot. There’s the vibrating you had mentioned, too.
“How was that?” Megan asks.
“Not so bad,” he answers honestly.
“That’s great. I’ll keep going then. Settle in. Just let me know if you start feeling funny or if you need a break, alright?” At his nod, she goes to work, and he switches his attention to you. He knows he shouldn’t, that it’ll probably come back to bite him in the ass, but he can’t stop himself from teasing you.
“I don’t know why you were complaining earlier,” he says in his best innocent voice, with his best innocent expression. “It’s not that bad.”
The way your mouth drops open just a little bit is adorable, and so is the noise of disbelief that follows. “Yeah, okay. Tell me that again at the end.”
“I will,” he replies, mentally adding probably not to the sentence.
You roll your eyes and let go of his hand to sort through your things. You give him a lollipop when you find it.
“What’s this for?” Suckers aren’t really his favorite candy.
“Your adrenaline is probably going to drop now that the tattoo has started and I don’t want you to pass out,” you say. “The sugar will help prevent you from getting lightheaded.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
The tattoo goes well overall, he thinks. It’s definitely painful, but like you said, it’s tolerable. He’s certainly felt worse. Near the end, though, he really starts hurting, and a grimace slips across his face.
“She’s almost done,” you reassure. He hasn’t been looking at it, but you have. “Also, what was that you saying earlier?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “It’s not even the needle, you know. It’s the paper towels.”
“A lot of people say that,” Megan says. “Just a few more minutes left.”
He spends those last few minutes questioning every decision he’s made in his life that has led him to this moment, and swearing to himself that he’s never going to do this again. But then it’s over and he’s looking at in the mirror, and it’s suddenly like the past five minutes never happened.
Spencer loves it. He absolutely adores it. Not just the art itself, but how it looks on his body and how it’s making him feel.
“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask, making him jump a little. He’d been so fixated on the tattoo that he didn’t notice you joining him.
He ponders for a moment to find the right words. “I’m beginning to understand why you like doing this so much.”
You grin. “It’s great, huh?”
“It is, yeah. I kind of want to touch it; is that weird?”
“No, but don’t,” you reply. “It’s an open wound.”
“I know.” He looks back at Megan. “This is perfect. Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she says. “Thank you for trusting me with your first tattoo.”
When he drags himself away from the mirror, she goes over aftercare with him, and he listens more intently this time. A few things are going to be a little inconvenient, he thinks, but it’s more than worth the trade off.
You take his hand as you leave the shop. “I’m so happy that I got to do that with you.”
He squeezes your hand back. “Me too.”
You reach the car, but before he can move towards the passenger side, you pull him in close. “I love you.”
His free hand comes up to cradle your cheek. “I love you, too.”
You kiss him, soft and sweet. “Happy three years,” you say when you pull back.
“Here’s to three more?” he offers, a little nervous, but mostly hopeful.
Your smile leaves no room for doubt. “I like the sound of that.”
---------------
hit up my inbox if you wanna talk tattoos bc i fucking love them. what do you see spencer getting with his partner?
general taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ , @spencerreid9​
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Evil Scar on 3rd life? I really like your writing btw
3rd Life rly is just a place for people to have villain arcs lmfao /hj also thank you, i’m so glad you enjoy my stuff :D
(just a reminder: do not tag this or any of my work as shipping of any kind)
  “Mrrow.”
  Etho chuckles and leans on his pickaxe as his cat, named Pineapple Pizza, sits down on the staircase behind him, looking up at him. “Heyo. What can I do for you? You hungry?”
  Pineapple meows again in response.
  “Okay, then. Let’s get you some fish.”
  Seemingly delighted with his response, Pineapple jumps up onto Etho’s shoulders and curls herself round the back of his neck. Etho grins and tickles her under the chin as he goes back up the stairs of his mine and emerges back in the swamp. His wool bridge stands proud through the middle of the swampy water, looking rather good for a build made of white wool. 
  Etho roots around in his chest for some fish, but by the time he finds some, he realises that Pineapple has jumped down from his shoulders. Glancing around, he spots a figure moving around in the trees and heads over to investigate.
  As he approaches, Scar emerges from behind the tree and spots him. “Ah, Etho! Good to see you.”
  Etho blinks, acutely aware of the red heart on Scar’s neck. “Hi, Scar,” he says warily, but still with a friendly tone. “What can I do for you?”
  “Oh, I was just in the neighbourhood and I-.”
  “Meow.”
  Scar breaks off as Pineapple appears between them, sitting down and starting to lick her paw.
  “Is this your cat?” Scar asks, bending down and picking Pineapple up. 
  Etho starts to reach for his cat but stops, as if afraid of spooking a wild animal. “Uh, yes. Yes, that’s Pineapple Pizza, Piney for short. Scar, could you, um… Sorry, but would you mind not picking her up? She doesn’t like being held by anyone who isn’t me.”
  “But she’s so cute.” Scar strokes the top of Pineapple’s head. “I’ve been looking for a cat, you know. Haven’t seen any Jellies on this server so I guess this one’ll have to do.”
  As Etho stares at him in shock, Scar turns and walks out onto the bridge. Etho falls into step beside him. “Scar, please,” he pleads. “She’s my cat. I can help you find one of your own, but-.”
  “No, I like this one. Not only is she adorable but she seems to be in need of a new home.”
  “No, please!” Etho’s voice rises. “Scar, please don’t take her from me! Please!”
  Scar steps back, still holding Pineapple in his arms. “I’d stay back from me, if I were you. Otherwise you might lose more than just your cat and your extremely flammable bridge.”
  “Wh-.”
  Before Impulse even finishes his word, Scar turns and strikes his flint and steel, setting the wool bridge on fire. 
  “NO!” Etho screeches.
  He charges forwards and attempts to stamp out the fire but it’s already spreading, and all he succeeds in doing is burning his leg. Stumbling backwards, Etho realises quickly that his bridge is a lost cause. As the flames explode outwards, all he can do is dive over the edge into the swampy water. 
  He swims to safety and climbs out onto the shore. By the time he turns around, his entire bridge is alight. Abandoning it, he dashes down the swampy banks, searching wildly for any sign of Scar. 
  But his former friend is long gone, along with his beloved cat. 
  As the sun rises, Etho sits on top of the hill with his knees drawn into his chest, gazing numbly down at where his bridge used to be. All that’s left is two blocks of wool and some fences. He’s shed so many tears tonight that he has nothing left in him. 
  Everything he loves is gone. His tree, his bridge, and even his beloved cat. He has nothing now. Nothing. 
  “Etho!” comes Tango’s call from somewhere to his left. “Etho, where are you?” 
  Etho doesn’t respond. 
  After a moment, Tango and Impulse emerge from the forest and discover him sitting on the edge of the hill. Neither of them speak; they’ve already heard what happened. News and gossip travels fast on the server. 
  They sit down on either side of him, neither of them entirely sure what to say. 
  “How you holding up, buddy?” Impulse asks eventually. 
  Etho closes his eyes briefly, releasing one stray tear he didn’t know was there. “Why does Scar hate me?” he whispers. 
  Tango and Impulse exchange a sympathetic look. 
  “He doesn’t hate you,” Tango begins. “He…” 
  “He burned down my tree and my bridge, and took my cat away from me. I must have done something to make him hate me.” 
  “No, buddy.” Impulse puts his arm over Etho’s shoulder. “Scar is… He’s… different than how he used to be. This server has changed him, and I guess it’s changed all of us. Just… him in a different way.”
  After a moment, Etho stands up, shaking Impulse’s arm off his shoulder. 
  Tango and Impulse also simultaneously rise to their feet. “Are you gonna be okay?” Tango asks. 
  Etho takes his gloves out of his pocket and puts them on. “Eventually.”
  “Not sure I like that answer. Etho, don’t push us away, okay? We’ll help you out, we’ll support you. Anything you need.”
  “Yeah,” adds Impulse. “Anything.” 
  “Alright, I appreciate that. I think I just need to be left alone for a while.”
  Exchanging another look, Tango and Impulse reluctantly nod. “Okay,” says the former. “You know where we are if you need us.”
  Etho waits until they’re out of sight before climbing into his boat and taking off across the swamp. He has somewhere to be.
  Etho climbs the sandy hill and stands a safe distance away from the small castle at the top. “Scar!” he calls. “Scar, come here!”
  He spots Grian dithering just inside the entrance of the house, but before he can call to him, Scar brushes past him and stands in front of him, crossing his arms. “What do you want, Etho?”
  “I want my cat back,” Etho responds steadily. “You’ve now burned down two things that meant a lot to me and I couldn’t stop you, so I’m here to fight for the only thing I have left. If you don’t give her back to me, I WILL resort to violence.” 
  Grian glances sharply at Scar. “That black cat is Etho’s?” 
  Scar shrugs. “So what if it is? He’s not gonna do anything about it. The rules say that PvP can only begin if a red lifer initiates it. And if I do initiate violence, I promise you, you won’t last long enough to strike me back.” 
  Etho’s narrowed eyes flicker to Grian, who reluctantly nods. “He’s right. If Scar strikes first, you’re allowed to strike back. But if he doesn’t, you can’t legally touch him.”
  Etho curls his hands into fists. “Why are you doing this, Scar? First my tree, then my cat, then my bridge. Why do you delight in taking away everything I care about?”
  “You have no idea how delicious it is to take things from people and watch as they slowly come to realise they can’t do a single thing about it,” replies Scar, grinning maliciously. “Maybe if you had a red heart like me, you’d understand.”
  “You get how being on red isn’t a GOOD thing, right?” Grian says warily from behind him. “One more death and you’re gone. And Etho could kill you right now, you know. He’d be breaking the rules, but that wouldn’t bring you back from the dead.” 
  “You shut up, Grian,” snarls Scar. “I didn’t ask for your input.”
  Grian flinches and turns away. 
  Seeing his friend mistreated like that pushes Etho over the edge. Grian is clearly scared of Scar. There’s no reason for him to be, unless Scar isn’t exactly his friend anymore. 
  Etho grabs Scar’s lapels and shoves him against the wall. Before Scar can even make a noise, Etho shoves his face close to Scar’s and snarls, “WHERE. IS. MY. CAT.”
  “I-I put her upstairs in the bedroom,” yelps Scar. “G-Grian, save me! Don’t let him kill me!”
  “I’m not gonna kill you.” 
  Etho shoves Scar aside and barges into the building. Grian wordlessly leads him upstairs to the room in question, where Etho finds Pineapple curled up on the bed. “Piney!”
  She opens her eyes and, upon spotting him, jumps down from the bed and circles his feet, rubbing her head against his ankles. 
  Etho almost cries with relief. “Oh, Piney… I’m so glad you’re okay.”
  He picks up Pineapple and lets her lie across his shoulders, before turning to Grian. “You don’t have to stay with him anymore, Grian. I know you said you owe him your first life, but just look at yourself. You’re miserable here with him. Scar’s turned into a bully, and you’re the person he targets when there’s nobody else around. You don’t have to live like this anymore.”
  Grian sighs quietly. “Where would I go? I burned all my bridges when I came here with Scar. And would I even be safe from him?”
  “Come live with me in the swamp,” Etho urges. “I’ll protect you. He may be on his red life but if he strikes one of us, the other can take him down. I’ll make sure if he strikes either of us, it’ll be me. You’ve been through a lot since Scar’s first death; you deserve your freedom.”
  For a moment, Grian doesn’t seem convinced. 
  Then Scar’s voice yells his name from downstairs and Grian again finds himself flinching. 
  This clinches it. He can’t spend the rest of his time on the server doing Scar’s bidding, waiting for either Scar or himself to die. That’s no way to live and he knows it.
  Finally, he nods. “Okay, I’ll come with you. Th-Thank you.”
  “No problem.”
  Etho leads the way back downstairs. He finds Scar standing in the doorway, arms crossed again, seemingly having regained his composure. “I heard what you said. Do you really think you can get away with stealing my cat AND my best friend?”
  “She’s not your cat,” snaps Etho.
  “I’m not your best friend!” Grian bursts out at the same time.
  Scar blinks. “Grian, what’d you just say?”
  “You’re not my best friend, Scar! Not anymore. Ever since you lost your first life, you’ve been different. And you’ve only gotten worse since you lost your second. I-I can’t live here with you anymore.” Grian’s voice cracks. “I’m sorry.”
  Scar’s shocked expression quickly turns into a ferocious glare. “Fine, then! Go, both of you. But don’t expect any mercy from me when I’m ready to start killing people. I’ll be coming for you first.”
  Grian freezes.
  Etho takes hold of his wrist and skilfully pulls him past Scar and out of the house. “You’ll be okay, Grian,” he says reassuringly. “I promise.” To Scar, he says a simple, “Goodbye.”
  Scar turns away as Etho and Grian head down the sandy mountain. “Did that really just happen?” Grian says numbly. “Did I really just abandon Scar?”
  “You did,” says Etho warmly, putting his arm over Grian’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
  Grian takes a deep breath. It’s the same air, but somehow, it tastes fresher. “Good, I think. You?”
  Etho smiles as he feels Pineapple rub her head against his cheek. For the first time, he hasn’t let Scar get away with taking something he cares about. It feels great. 
  “Never better.”
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legaciezzz · 3 years
Text
All Best Friends Have Seen Each Other Naked
Lizzie x Male Reader
Genre: Smut
Request: Could you do Lizzie x reader where everyone thinks they’re dating but they’re just friends. He calms her down when she’s about to have a breakdown and helps her with anything. One day they get really drunk and hook up but they don’t want to ruin their friendship so they don’t tell anyone. The reader accidentally lets it out in front of all their friends and hope gets a little jealous even though she’s dating Landon.
A/N: I don't know if you wanted this to be that start of a triangle but let me know if you would like a part 2.
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You and Lizzie were bestfriends. You hung out all the time, you were always there to calm her down when she has an episode, you studied together, you basically did everything together. But of course, a boy and a girl can never just be friends. Asides from the squad, the whole school thought you guys were an item even though you guys were just really close.
For the most part, you and Lizzie would laugh at the comments people made about you too, but you had to admit it did hinder you in the dating pool, not that you cared about dating that much.
"You know, it's sort of how girls just stopped after I became friends with Lizzie." You said as you sat with your friends for lunch.
"Maybe because they think you're dating." MG reminded you.
"It's nice to know that's the one line they won't cross." Hope chimed in.
"Thanks for the cynical input as always, Hope." you teased.
One night while partying at the mill as you and Lizzie usually did, you guys had a lot to drink-- especially that night. By the end you were stumbling through the halls of the school giggling with your arms around each other to support yourselves.
"My dad's gonna kill me if he sees me like this." Lizzie said.
"Let's go to my room, it's closer." you suggested.
You guys made it to your dorm and both fell back on your bed. After you took a moment to collect yourselves, you turned to look at each other. You smiled and the longer your eyes lingered Lizzie's kept falling to your lips, and so did you.
You kissed her as she leaned in. She then climbed on top of your lap after the kiss deepened. You sat up to take her top off, her returning the favour. Your hand slid up her body, groping her breast.
As things continued to get more heated, you felt your jeans begin to tighten underneath her. Lizzie undid your pants, taking out your cock, and started to stroke. You moaned into the kiss.
You felt yourself hard in her hand  as she continued to touch you. Things were now progressing at a fast pace, with her quickly pulling your pants all the way off then lowering herself onto you.
She was moving her hips fast and nothing but moans and profanities could be heard from you two. Her hands were running through your hair, while your lips kissed all over her chest.
"God.."
You could hear her moan when you put both of your hands under her ass and lifted her up a bit, then lowering again.
Lizzie's breathing was now becoming heavy and raspy.
"Oh fuck!" she cried out as you started thrusting into her faster and harder.
You matched her pace, holding her tightly as you gave her your all.
"I'm-- I'm commi--" she stuttered as she grip onto you tightly.
You could feel the pressure building up within you. "Fuck, I'm commi---"
You could feel yourself release inside of her, and you continued to thrust into her until just a few more pumps were given before you were done and then collapsed onto the bed together.
. . .
“What the hell did we just do?” Lizzie said as she stared up at the ceiling as you guys lied in bed, the hungover and the regret washing over her.
“Proved everyone right, I guess.”
She sat up, clutching onto the sheets. “Oh god. What are we gonna do?”
“What do you mean?” you asked, sitting up with her.
Without answering you, she got out of bed and started looking for her clothes.
“Y/N. you’re my best friend and I love you, but we can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Okay.” you chuckled, confused by her behaviour.
“I’m serious, Y/N. Nothing can change about our friendship. You’re the only guy in my life I haven’t screwed thing up with and--”
“Hey, don’t worry,” you said, grabbing her hand in attempt to relax her. “I still see you like I always did before last night. Besides, all best friends have seen each other naked at some point, right?" you joked, lighting up the mood a bit.
A couple days later in the afternoon, you and the squad were having yet another discussion about the questionable image of your friendship with Lizzie.
"C'mon, you two already act like a couple." Kaleb said.
"Yeah, the only thing you guys haven't done is sleep together." Rafael joked which caused you and Lizzie to go awkwardly silent
Everyone looked at you, waiting for a response. "Right?" Josie asked.
You felt the pressure as they all stared at you.
"We were drunk." you confessed.
"Y/N!" Lizzie yelled as the others reacted in shock. Josie clearly regretted learning that information and the guys were surprised and amused.
"Sorry!"
"Wait, you and Y/N seriously had sex?" Landon asked.
"They were drunk, it's not like it meant anything." Hope said, glancing over to you, arms crossed as she sat back on the arm of the chair that Landon was in.
"Exactly," Lizzie said, ignoring her tone. "So if we could please keep this to ourselves. God knows what Penelope would do if this got out."
Tags: @eliotsbambimargo​, @stewie-castle​
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platypanthewriter · 3 years
Text
Guess Again
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Day Four of Harringrove AUgust, Profession AU!  Steve runs into a hot guy named Billy on his plane flight back to Indianapolis, and Billy lies about what he does for a living, then, laughing, admits he lied.  The prize for this guessing game: an exchange of phone numbers.
Steve found his seat, in coach, because that was the only seat available on the overbooked flight into Indianapolis a week before Thanksgiving.  He shoved his carry-on under the seat, and wedged himself in the limited leg room, opening his laptop to answer the emails that had been pinging his phone before the plane was ready to take off, and he—blessedly—had to go into airplane mode.  
He barely even noticed the guy wedging himself in to sit by the window, and trying to get the damn table to stay up.  Steve typed away as the busted table mechanism flapped onto the guy’s lap over and over.  Finally, Steve grimaced, glancing over.  “You can use my table,” he offered, registering only that the guy was tattooed, and kinda...hot.  “I’ll put this away as soon as we taxi to the runway.”
“It’s fine,” the dude said, smacking the floppy table with a sigh.  “Not like there’s a meal on this flight.”
“You can lean in and share my pretzels,” Steve told him, grinning over, and was met with big, long-lashed blue eyes, an annoying mustache, and curls that curved around an attractively firm jaw.  
The guy nodded, and put the broken table away.  “...kind of a workaholic?” he asked, probably because it was nearly ten o’clock at night, and Steve was glaring at his screen and typing emails like his survival depended on a high word count.  
He snorted a laugh.  “I left them all until now,” he said, grimacing.  “They really don’t need my input, but if I replied earlier, they’d just ask me something else.  Something they could google.”  He narrowed his eyes at an email from a coworker who’d actually emailed to ask for exact details of what was allowed under the sexual harassment policy.  Talk to HR, he sent back.  Creep, he thought.  He finished the last of the replies, hoping he wasn’t sending anything too weird in his distraction, and closed his laptop.  “Um.  Sorry.  What do you do?”
“I sell life insurance,” the guy said immediately, with a toothy grin.  “I’ll sell you so much insurance on this flight.”
“Uh,” Steve said, blinking at him.  “Umm...oh.”
“That’s a lie,” was the dude’s followup, and Steve stared at him, starting to regret his offer to share a table, or catch the flight at all.  “I don’t sell life insurance, I swear.  I promise,” the guy said, laughing.  “God, your face.  I just...my job is...I started telling people I sell life insurance, so they wouldn’t talk to me.”
“I can just sit over here,” Steve offered, pretending to zip his lips.
“No, no, it’s, uh.  Sorry I lied.  Talk to me, it’s a long flight.”
“Why do you have to lie?” Steve had to ask, and the guy grimaced.  
“My job’s kinda awkward,” he said, laughing.
“Are you a...porn star?” Steve asked, trying to figure out what kind of job would get the worst people to talk to you, and the dude cracked up.  
“Jesus, no, but thanks for the ego boost,” he said, and Steve snorted a laugh.  
“Um.  What about…” Steve thought, opened his mouth, and then closed it.  “Can I guess?” he asked, grinning, and the guy snickered.  
“Sure.  Give it your best shot.  Just don’t tell me any horror stories.”
“Do you embalm bodies?” Steve tried, already holding back a tide of questions, like did you ever drop one and have to fix a broken nose.
“Nope!” said the guy, turning to lean more against the window, to face Steve.  “How many tries do you want before I just tell you?”
“Oh, no, no, lemme guess,” Steve said, thinking as they came around asking for drink orders.  “Horror stories...um.  Are you a soldier?” he asked, wide-eyed, and the guy laughed again.  
“No!  No, nothing like that.”  He leaned to see Steve’s ID as Steve pulled it out to order a beer, and Steve grinned.  
“I’m Steve.”
“Billy,” said his mysteriously-employed seatmate, offering his hand, and Steve flipped it over investigatively.  
“You don’t have those, like, love/hate knuckle tattoos,” he said, feeling like a detective.  “So...maybe not a biker?”
“I’m not a biker,” Billy snickered.  His hand was warm in Steve’s.  “Is that even a job?”
“Oh!  Oh!” Steve leaned forward, sure he had it this time, and Billy moved the armrest between them out of the way.  “A writer?”
“What?!” Billy laughed, which probably meant Steve was wrong, but he argued his point.  
“People tell you horror stories,” he said, narrowing his eyes.  “So—so probably everybody tells you they have a great idea for your next novel—”
“No, uh.  One clue,” Billy said, grimacing.  “They’re true stories.”
“True stories,” Steve said, going to cross his arms in thought, and realizing Billy hadn’t taken his hand back.  “Uh, what do I get if I guess right?” he asked, squeezing Billy’s hand, and Billy snorted a laugh, grinning like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
“I dunno, I feel like Rumpelstilzkin, you want like my firstborn or—”
“No, nope,” Steve made a face.  “I got enough kids around, thanks.  Oh—” he blinked, realizing how that sounded as Billy started to pull his hand back, and lean away, “—not, like, I’m not a dad, I don’t have a wife and kids or anything.  I just have some little shitheads that come over all the time and eat all my popsicles and pizza.”
“Oh good,” Billy said dryly.  “I’d feel terrible if holding my hand ruined your marriage.”
“No other knuckles can fulfill me, now,” Steve said soulfully, and then when Billy burst out laughing, Steve couldn’t hold a straight face.  
“You know how fucking dirty that sounds, right,” Billy whispered, rubbing his face with the hand Steve wasn’t holding, and Steve snorted a laugh.
“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to get you to fist me on the plane,” he hissed back.
“Coward,” Billy shot back, and then they started giggling again, like they were ten.  
 “True horror stories,” Steve repeated, later, as they leaned together over the napkin on his tiny airplane table, where he was keeping track of the guesses he’d already made.  “True horror stories.  Are you a reporter?” 
“God no,” Billy said, making a face.  “Imagine this many tattoos in front of the news cameras?  We’ve got a ways to go before they allow that.”
“Oh, true,” Steve nodded.  “I mean, unless you worked for, like, a tabloid.  Circling everyone’s stomach in pictures and writing ‘BABY BUMP?!’ on it.”  
Billy jumped when Steve yelled ‘BABY BUMP’, and half the plane twitched and mumbled.  “Fuck no!” he hissed, laughing.  “Ssh!”
“Huh,” Steve said, studying the napkin.  “Oh!  Um,” he grimaced.  “Police officer?”
“No,” Billy growled, and Steve nodded, writing that down and crossing it out, and sipping his third beer.  “We never worked out what you got if you guessed,” Billy said, watching.  
“Oh, yeah,” Steve agreed, nodding.  “Uh, what about...dinner?”
“We’re gonna land at like six in the morning,” Billy pointed out, and Steve fingergunned him.
“Breakfast.”
Billy laughed.  “I dunno if I’m willing to put out on our first plane trip together.”
“Lemme get you, like, bacon and eggs,” Steve said, leaning in and waggling his eyebrows, “—and my phone number.”  He smirked as Billy cackled, leaning his head in the window.
“Yeah, okay.  Gimme some breakfast sausage, Steve,” he said softly, the overhead reading light making his curls glow a little, like a halo.  
“Now I haveta figure it out,” Steve said, frowning at his list, and Billy’s fingers twitched towards him.  Steve grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together, and accepted another beer from the flight attendant.  “I wonder how many beers that is,” he said, prodding at the label with his thumbnail.  “I think they’re like ten bucks a pop.”
“I bet the alcohol will really help you think,” Billy said dryly, and Steve made a face at him.  
“Shut up, I got it.  I got it this time,” he said, tipping his head back for a long, satisfying drink of beer, and wiping his mouth.  Billy’s mouth hung a little open when he finished, and Steve licked his lips, grinning.  “You—you’re a doctor.  A—a doctor of butts.  A butt-doctor.”
Billy started laughing so hard, silently, that Steve was starting to wonder whether he could breathe.  
“I’m right, right?” Steve said, taking a triumphant swig, and Billy shook his head, wheezing for air.
“You mean a proctologist?!” he gasped.
“Yeah, and you understood fine,” Steve told him, annoyed.
“I’m not—I’m not a butt doctor,” Billy choked out, tears of laughter in his eyes.  “I don’t have a doctorate in ass—”
“Your loss,” Steve muttered, glaring at the napkin with the list.  “Man, my cousin is one, and he has some stories.  Dude, that’s everything, that’s every damn job.  Ever.  Do zookeepers get told horror stories?!  Oh!”  He pointed the beer bottle at Billy.  “Dentist!”
“No,” Billy giggled, his hair rising with static in the dry air of the plane, and sticking to the wall and window behind him.  He looked ruffled and fond, and Steve squeezed his hand again, trying to think of what he’d missed, before the plane landed, and he’d spent the entire flight guessing jobs, and Billy hadn’t even given him a last name.  
“Shit,” Steve said, then straightened again.  “No, okay, this time,” he said, the beer making his words a little soft around the edges, “This time I really have it.  You’re a Mickey Mouse person.”
“I’m a what now,” Billy said, still snickering.
“You know,” Steve said, his eyes narrowed.  “You crawl up the ass of one of those suits and let kids think you’re a Disney princess.”
“No, Harrington,” Billy said, breathlessly, as he shook with laughter.  “No, I do not.  Do people tell mascots horror stories?!  I don’t even want to know.  Which princess?  Just for scientific curiosity, Steve, which princess do I crawl up the ass of, in your brain?”
Steve tried to remember them all.  “Not Jasmine,” he said with certainty.  “Um.  Wait, Peter Pan?  Maybe?”
“Peter Pan’s not a princess,” Billy choked out, wiping his eyes as he tried to muffle his laughter.  
“Hrm,” Steve said, accepting another beer and huffing a sigh, but Billy leaned in suddenly and just kissed him.  His lips were warm and chapped, and Steve hummed happily against them.  Their teeth bumped, a little, because Billy was giggling so hard, and Steve was grinning so wide his cheek muscles ached.
“I’m a drug and alcohol counselor,” Billy said with a grimace, and Steve glared at his beer, betrayed, "—so, um, horror stories.  Yeah."
"I just have butt-doctor horror stories," Steve said quickly, trying to salvage the situation, and he shoved his beer behind him.
Billy laughed harder, shaking his head.  "I’ll still take that number,” he whispered, kissing Steve again—and snickering, his cheeks flushed.  “And breakfast?”
Here’s my other Harringrove stuff!  Or check out the Harringrove AUgust collection on Ao3!  Add something!  =D 
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nitannichionne · 3 years
Text
If He Was Your Fan, Chapter 59: Prerogatives (A Henry Cavill Fanfic)
Chapter 59: Prerogatives (Henry POV)
CHAPTER 59: Prerogatives
NOTE: Thanks for your support and input, especially last chapter!
(Henry POV)
I lay in bed, looking at her. I made it priority to wear her out last night:
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“Aaahhhhh!” she screamed as I drove her hips up and down an my cock. She gripped my shoulders, her head falling back riding out the previous orgasm. “I can’t—”
“You can,” I growled, turning her under me. My tongue snaked to her mouth, moistening her dried lips and the insides of her mouth. I went down on her again and she let out a whimper. We both moaned as we felt her passion flow again. “Ah, that’s it.” Her hips raised off the bed and I crawled between her legs, nibbling her torso on the way back up, and aligned my hips with hers again. I rubbed my meatus against her slit, kissing her neck.
She gave a kitten cry as my tongue surged inside her mouth, my cock thrusting into her at the same time. The sound struck the base of my neck and lit a path down my spine, making me ache to pound her again. How I loved hearing that sound, feeling her body become pliant in my arms but feeling her fingertips rake my back deliciously as her sex pulsed and pulled me, her eyes half open as if under a spell…my spell. Doesn’t she know what that does to me?
I sigh, blinking back to present. I am trying get it. She wants to establish her own identity in this new life here in the U.K. She didn’t see it coming, and she wants to try to start anew, get her bearings, as it were. I understand.
But I DON’T understand why she has to do it this way. I am being selfish, and I know it, but I barely care, I think as I lick my lips watching her. Yet I do care about her and how she feels, and I am going along with this. Did I sweep her off her feet? I must have not done a good job. She seemed stable the whole time we were together in all three film sites.
I hate games. Is that what this is? It’s hard for me to believe that. Our relationship started so differently from most. Our whole history is different from most. And I have never ever had a woman be so understanding of my quirks, like my gaming and such. She seemed fine when I went to work, didn’t even show a bit of insecurity until…until I put it there…damn, am I still paying for that?
And I gave her my ring! How can she question everything when she is wearing my crest on her finger? She had to know I was working up to popping the question. I looked down at the one she gave me. She thought it wasn’t good enough. How can she think that?
“Henry?”
I look at her. I’d been quiet too long.
She looks dejected. “Can we just…go outside awhile?”
I swallow hard. “Yeah, in a bit.”
“Oh, okay,” she nods, but she looks like she’s going to cry. “I’ll take Luna out. You bring Kal, alright?”
“Yeah.”
She gets Luna’s harness, and she, thinking she is part dog, trots over to be leashed. I can’t help but smile at that. “Okay, then.”
The second she’s alone, I get on my phone. I see all these numbers I’d conveniently blocked out—actresses and such, women I could call up. I slowed at Emma’s.
I call up my brother. I can’t believe I’m calling him. As the line rings, I realize how serious I am about her and how much I want to truly understand and not lose her.
“Hold on,” he says. “Let me get this right. She wants to not move in with you yet?”
“No.”
“Oh, she might be a proper lady, Henry.”
I roll my eyes at that. “She is.”
“No, you know what I mean,” he chastises. “She wants to establish her own status.”
“She wears my ring.”
“A ring, or the ring?”
“The ring.”
“Well, Good Lord, Henry, the horse is out of the barn!” he is quiet for a moment. “Did you ask her? Does she know what that ring means?”
“No.”
“Henry!”
“Good Lord, you sound like Mum.”
“No, she’d probably hit you in the back of the head with a paper,” he mutters.
“You’re not helping.”
“She loves you, and she wants to make a name for herself before you change it. She wants to be sure it isn’t proximity but really a desire to be together. She wants other people to at least have reason to feel that way too. Good enough?”
I sigh. “Good enough.”
“I kind of like her already.”
“She’s American.”
He lets out a low whistle. “Told Mum?”
“Met Mum online.”
“Well, well, well,” he teases. “When are the rest of us going to meet her?”
“Soon.”
“Good man,” he encourages. “Remember, it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind—”
“--And a man’s prerogative to change it back,” I finish with my brother. We have a laugh. Mum always hated that quote.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I hang up and look at Kal. “Well, I guess that’s that, Kal. Let’s go.”
We join her and Luna outside. She looks worried. I can’t help but soften. She wants my understanding.
“So, tell me about this place at Stella’s,” I exhale.
“It’s in Brixton, not far from you,” she says hopefully, her eyes widening. “It’s a studio.”
“Small?”
“I don’t know, but it’s furnished and I can still afford it even with the pet fees.”
I look at the stars in the sky, the Northern Lights beginning to fade. For the first time I hold to the fact that they are still there. I take a deep breath. “I can help you settle in.”
“You will?” Painful relief crosses her features as she leans into me.
I drag her to my side. “If this is what you need, pet, but I want you to know that ring means something to certain parts of society.”
She is quiet for a moment, and swallows hard, looking at the ring on her finger. “Should I give this back—”
“No,” I say flatly. “And you can take my ring off my cold dead hand!” I earn a laugh from her. I gather her close. “I don’t fully agree, my love, but if this is what you need—” I was cut off by her pulling me down for a kiss. It was tender and vulnerable, tasting of tears.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
We look at the skies. “They are fading.”
“They’re still there,” she whispers with a shrug. “They’ll be back. We’ll be back.”
“We should camp next time.”
“No plumbing?” Her eyes widen. “No thank you.”
i couldn't help but laugh at that, and honestly I couldn't agree more. We finished our playtime with Luna and Kal and head inside. We ate all of our leftovers and curled in bed that night, warming each other. Snow and rain had fallen in the time we were here, only to melt and warm again. “Brixton.”
“Yes, Brixton,” she whispers. “It’s not Group A, but I can afford it and Stella says it’s nice. I know it’s not the most desirable area.”
It dawns on me that she is afraid of London, really afraid of it-the society.
may be in middle middle and you are upper, and I know that I think your line was Baronet but now Gentry, and that I am…well, essentially, no one to that, but…”
“I assure you, it’s not as strict as you think.” I look into her eyes and see real fear.
“Well, your father is in finance, so he still has the status, your brothers are in professions that adheres to the same—”
“And I’m an actor, love.”
“Line and wealth, Henry.”
I chilled at her words. She was truly afraid of not being considered good enough. And what’s more, she really thought I cared. “I love you.”
“I love you,” she whispers, framing my face in her hands. “but what of James Bond? What of the Knighthood?”
I laugh, albeit nervously. “Knighthood?” I pull her on top of me. “Stop it.”
“What?”
“Do you really care about all that?”
“I guess the real question is, do you?”
The question hung in the air. “If it comes, it comes, darling.”
“And if the door is closed without consideration?”
“If I do great works that improve or enrich over time, I can be considered.” I tell her.
“Like Durrell?”
“Among other things.”
“I want to be an asset to you—”
“You already are,” I pull her down and squeeze her for a hug. “Good God, woman.” I pull her back, looking at her. “You are beautiful and brilliant with a heart bigger than the skies we’re under. That’s why I love you.” I slap her arse. “This bum doesn’t hurt, either.”
“You’re so bad!” she playfully slaps my chest, making me laugh.
I take a deep breath. “I will back you, whatever you do, pet. I see you need this now.” But in my eyes it was far from necessary.
“Thank you,” she whispers in my ear, hugging me. “thank you for understanding this.”
I hug her close. I hug her as if she is all I have. I hate that she feels this way, though there may be some truth to it, but it will be so subtle that she shouldn’t notice. Smart as she is, I should have known she would. But I have never felt like this before. I get the feeling she hasn’t either. It means something-we mean something…
@mistress-of-ward @nuggsmum @messyinsomnimaniac @jencanbeyouryengeralt @sweetdreamsofgelato @mary-ann84 @omgkatinka @the-soot-sprite @viking-raider @keanureevesisbae @henryobsessed @summersong69 @sunshine96love @michelehansel @thelastsock @tumblnewby @tenaciousneckpartypainter @rn7rocks @daydreamin83 @ruthoakenshield @musicartmayheminmyheart @kaatelyynn-blog-blog@forallthebrokenheartedthings @alphacancrii @liquorlaughslove @designerwriterchic @tamychm @nikkilynn303 @circesgirl1 @xoxohannahlee @pixie88@fckdeusername @maan24 @kaatelyyynn​ @october505​ @absentmindr​ @introvertedmouse​ @sassy-pelican @griscka75
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karasuno-chaos · 3 years
Text
Choosing His Tie (Osamu x Reader)
I feel like Osamu is one of those people that doesn’t dress up often, but when he does, he only serves quality looks.👔  -Giz
Word Count:  1,470
Fluffvember masterlist
“Y/N!” your husband shouts from the bedroom.
“What?” you holler back, not moving from your position on the couch watching Vine compilations.
“Come here!”
“Why?”
“I want your opinion!”
You sigh but pause the current video.  Osamu doesn’t ask for your opinion very often.  He’s pretty decisive, and even when you tell him what you think, he usually sticks with his own opinion.  If he’s proactively seeking your input, he’s a bit desperate.  You haul yourself off of the couch and head to the bedroom.
“What is it?” you ask, leaning in the doorway.  He’s standing in front of the dresser mirror wearing a black suit with a white button-up.  The jacket is unbuttoned, and he’s popped the collar on his shirt.  You take a moment to admire how he looks.  Osamu is much more comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans or sweatpants, but his natural confidence makes him look effortlessly suave in the simple black suit.  You’d insisted he get it tailored to fit his figure, and you’re so glad you did when the effect is so beautiful.
“Stop ogling,” he says, glancing at your reflection.  While his twin is quite obviously an attention hog, Osamu enjoys getting attention, too, especially from you.  The fact that he isn’t allowing you to stare means something is bothering him.
“I’ll try to keep it under control,” you say with a teasing smirk.  “If you didn’t call me over to flaunt your looks, what do you need?”
“Help me pick a tie.”
“Seriously?”  You pretend to complain.  “I was in the middle of a really funny video.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to pull you away from such an important activity.  It’s not like I’m trying to prepare to meet with the bank to secure a loan so we can open another branch of our restaurant chain.”
His words are a bit harsh, but you’re used to his bluntness.  You also know how much this next step in his business means to him.  With the additional brand exposure from sponsoring volleyball events, there’s been a significant increase in sales at every Onigiri Miya location.  Eager to ride the wave of steady popularity, Osamu’s decided now is the perfect time to extend that success to the nation’s capital.  He has his eye on a location near the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, but to move forward with his plan, he needs another loan from the bank.
“It’s just a tie, Samu,” you say soothingly.  “It won’t make or break their decision.”
“You don’t know that.”
You frown.  Your husband is stubborn, but he also doesn’t bother with trivialities unless he’s being intentionally petty.  A tie shouldn’t worry him this much.
“Are you feeling okay?” you ask, walking to him and placing the back of your hand on his forehead.  He looks annoyed for a second, but you move your hand to his cheek and he sighs.  Osamu closes his eyes, allowing your touch to temporarily soothe his mind.
“I’m fine,” he promises.  When he opens his eyes, they’re serious but not manic.  You think he’s a little more focused, which means he’s better prepared to get the job done.
“Good,” you say, dropping your hand.  “For a moment, I definitely thought you were freaking out, which would have been totally uncool.”
“Huh?”  His eyes narrow in a challenge.  You do love to push his buttons, but only because you can take the heat.
“You’ve had this meeting how many times now?”
“Twice I guess.”
“Exactly,” you hum, turning your attention to the pile of ties he’s laid out on the dresser.  You begin selecting options and draping them over his shoulders to see how they look with his outfit.  “You’ve already opened two very successful locations and paid back those loans in good time with good faith.  You’ve given the bank no reason to doubt your reliability.  You’re a solid investment.  The way I see it, this meeting’s more of a formality than anything.  You’ve got this in the bag.”
“Do you know how impractical you sound?  Thank goodness I’m in charge of our business,” he sighs.
“Yes of course dear.  I’ll just stick to our branding and menu design and visual advertising and picking out your ties.  Unless you can do that last one yourself now?”
Osamu rolls his eyes, neither apologizing nor thanking you.  A less secure person would never survive his hot and cold nature, but you know him well enough to see how much he appreciates you.  It’s why you’re such good partners in both business and life.
You also know that the back and forth banter is helping him to focus.  You’ve heard numerous stories about the rambunctious exchanges he and his twin would have before volleyball games.  Somehow the snide remarks and sense of competition make him perform better, and you’re happy to rile him up a bit if it helps.
“Okay, I’ve got it down to three options,” you announce.  “First up-”
“No,” your husband says immediately, pulling a frown from your lips.
“Come on,” you whine.  “This is my favorite.”
“It’s childish.”
“It’s whimsical and fun,” you counter.  “Just look at the happy little onigiri!”
He looks at the tie with the cartoon food dancing across a deep blue background.  It had been a joke gift from Atsumu a few years ago, but you love it so he wears it sometimes.  Today, however, won’t be one of those days.
“No,” he insists.  “I need them to take me seriously.”
“Buzzkill.”  You put the tie on the dresser and grab the other options.  “Okay boring businessman, which one screams ‘give me money’ more?”
One tie is an eye-catching abstract swirl of greens and blues.  The other is a shimmery silver with a subtle pattern that catches the light.  You have a favorite, but you want to let him choose.
After a moment of contemplation, he picks the silver one and starts putting it on without a word.  You were secretly rooting for that one.  The silver brings out some of the lighter grey in his eyes, and it looks really sharp paired with that suit.
You put away his other ties while he finishes primping.  He has plenty of time before the meeting, but you know he’ll arrive at the bank early and take a few minutes to look over his business plan again.  After hanging up the last tie, you turn to watch him.  Now that his outfit is complete, he seems much more at ease, as he should be.  You have no doubt he is ready for this meeting.
“You’re ogling again,” he says.
“I can’t help it,” you reply with a grin.  You wrap your arms around his waist, and he smirks at you.  “You look like a billion yen.”
“Let’s hope so.”  He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back.  It’s the most thanks you’re likely to get from him, but you don’t mind.  You feel his appreciation in the way he holds you.
“Need me for anything else?” you ask, looking up at him.
“The rest of my life,” he says smoothly.
“Only if you make dinner tonight.”
Osamu quirks an eyebrow.
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Really?  I feel like dinner is a small price to pay for my eternal love and support,” you hum.  “You should definitely accept before I rethink the terms of this contract.”
“It’s a deal.”  He smiles as he kisses you.
“Good negotiation.  Now go do it again with the bank people.”
“And what are you going to do?” he asks as he follows you out of the bedroom.
“I was in the middle of a really funny video, remember?  And I have a few more queued up after that.”
“Sounds thrilling.”
“You know me.  I live a life of adrenaline and excitement.”
“Just as long as you don’t waste your time at work like this.”
“Feed me a good dinner tonight and I promise to be on my game all day tomorrow.”
“There you go negotiating again.  Maybe I should send you to this meeting instead.”
“No way, not after you got all dressed up for it.  You can’t deprive the world of this rare sighting of Suave Businessman Samu.”  You straighten his tie when you reach the front door.  “You’re going to kill it, okay?  Like service ace, blockout, wicked spike kill it.”
“Volleyball metaphors?  That’s so three years ago.”
“Whatever.”  You capture his lips in a quick kiss.  “See you later.”
“Yeah.”
His goodbye isn’t overly heartfelt, but it’s perfectly him.  Osamu grins at you before he leaves, and you get a second to admire this confident, well-dressed man that you’ve married before you’re staring at the back of the door.  You sigh and settle onto the couch to distract yourself with videos until he’s back to tell you how it went.
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I don’t get you, CJ. Why are you so quick to throw around the term “bad writing” when you don’t agree with something? Why not simply chalk it up to having different likes or dislikes than other people and move on?
Instead of deconstructing characters you don’t like, why not use your platform to empower other voices and highlight others with different tastes or opinions than you? Different people notice different things about the games. That’s one of the nice things about fandom.
You clearly love writing and analysis, but when you post answers to asks that hold different opinions than you’re own, you often go “you’re valid, but…” and launch into paragraphs upon paragraphs of your opposite opinion rather than truly exploring theirs.
I guess what I’m trying to say is I think your blog and analyses would be stronger if rather than dismissing plot points or characters as “bad writing” you step outside yourself and ask others what they see in that writing since it’s not connecting with you.
To be fair, anon, I don't get me either.
But I hear you, so if you'll allow me to do the thing where I launch into paragraphs upon paragraphs, let's talk about this.
I assume this might've come about because of the recent Violet talk here? Or maybe it's from older posts, I dunno, you didn't specify so I can only speculate and use the Violet posts as the main example here.
So here's the thing... deconstructing characters and storylines is something I enjoy doing. Hell, it's one of my favorite things to do. It doesn't matter if I like or dislike the character, or if I agree with plot directions, or if I think it's "good" or "bad" writing. That's how I work things out for myself, how I try to understand why I'm feeling the way I am about certain characters and story elements. I break apart the different aspects of these things and analyze them so that I can improve the content I create and try to avoid the same mistakes I've come across that I wanted to be better.
When it comes to me tossing around "bad writing", or just implying it, I'm not trying to say that "bad writing = trash, garbage, unenjoyable, anyone who likes this is a dingus, how could you?" it's more "I see flaws here and I want it to be better, I know it can be better and it frustrates me that I can't fix it," y'know?
And I'm fully aware that other people might not see it that way. With that basketball Violet post, I know that a lot of the Violet crowd are gonna read that and be like "no, I love the bell tower scene! It fits well with her character! What are you talking about?" and that's fine, I expect that. That post was me writing something that's been on my mind that I wanted to share, it wasn't me trying to scold anyone for liking it or trying to dismiss their feelings about it.
When it comes to differing opinions, especially on Violet, I've come to the conclusion that we just gotta agree to disagree. I've tried for years at this point to understand the appeal of Violet and gone looking for answers about her in hopes of being enlightened, and I have asked around.
In the past, I have made posts inquiring about what people see in Violet [Minerva, too] and why they prefer Violentine, and I got little to nothing in response. So I totally get where you're coming from when you say I should ask others what they see in the writing that I don't, but there's only so much I can do when no one is willing to answer me. So, I have to look around myself.
I've searched through several threads on reddit and none of them have been insightful, unsurprisingly.
That's what sparked my mini-rant about Louis before. On reddit, a lot of the answers on why people like Violet are either "she sided with Clementine, she's just really sweet deep down, she has more trauma, and lesbian," or "I like Violet more because Louis is a traitor," and what the hell am I supposed to get out of that, y'know? They're not really telling me anything, they're just looking to argue among themselves and I've had to throw in the towel on that one.
I've had better luck here, having read some truly insightful posts about Violet, her arc, and her relationship with Clementine. The conclusion I've reached it that the things people find appealing about her are things that I don't.
If you need an example, we'll use the aftermath of Marlon's murder when Violet turns on the group to defend AJ. Every post from the Violet crowd I've read that talks about that scene praises her for turning against her friends/family to defend AJ when they were gonna attack him, it shows what she's willing to do for them, that's something that drew them to her. Then there's me, who sees that as adding unnecessary aggression to the situation when none of them were going to attack AJ, they weren't looking at AJ, and none of this is helping. Neither of these interpretations are wrong.
Guess what I'm trying to get at is I'm one person, and having discussions takes more than one willing person.
Moving on, "when you post answers to asks that hold different opinions than you’re own, you often go “you’re valid, but…” and launch into paragraphs upon paragraphs of your opposite opinion rather than truly exploring theirs."
I've thought about this for a while, and maybe I do actually do this but don't realize it. I like to think that I'm engaging with the ideas that people send me, but I dunno, maybe I can be dismissive of things because I have a hard time being objective. That's something I've always struggled with, and I'm sorry if I ever came across as dismissive or didn't fully explore ideas, that's something I can definitely get better at.
As for "why not use your platform to empower other voices and highlight others with different tastes or opinions than you? Different people notice different things about the games. That’s one of the nice things about fandom."
I've done character nights, ship nights, season nights, etc. for about two years, give or take. That's what those nights were about. Usually, I'd put up a poll and we'd all vote on what we wanted to discuss, and then the floor was open for anyone to give their input, and we'd discuss.
I stopped doing them a little while ago because I was burnt out on themed nights. Remembering to make new polls, setting aside part of my weekends to spend hours answering asks the best I could, usually dealing with other projects on top of it all.... it may not seem like it, but god, those nights took a lot out of me. I loved doing it! Having those discussions were some of the best parts of running this blog, but now my new job has me working 40+ hours a week, four days with ten hour shifts and occasionally some overtime on the weekends, I just don't have it in me anymore to do it every single weekend. Not with how tired I am and with all the other projects I'm working on.
That's why I've started testing the waters with these shorter posts of me throwing out ideas or going on mini-rants. They're something simple I can do with no pressure, just me with an empty document getting whatever's on my mind out... and it helps that it feels like my last fuck has just flown away to the heavens to weave itself into the boat god's beard like as he sails among the clouds and stars..... so now I'm gonna talk about whatever I want and the fact that it's my opinion is implied.
I'm sorry if I'm coming off as a little defensive with this part, I tend to get that way whenever people tell me what I should or shouldn't do with my blog, even if they're just trying to be helpful and I don't believe you have any ill intent with your message. I've had this blog for three years now, and I've always had people telling me I shouldn't do character analyses, I should stay in my lane, just write fanfics and do character nights. I should answer more asks otherwise people will think I don't care. I shouldn't write headcanon posts, that's what other blogs do and I'll be taking content away from them. I shouldn't write that one au I've always wanted to because I should be working on [with you]. I shouldn't write anything but [with you.] I shouldn't talk about Violet because I'm a Louis blog.
And that's dumb. All of that is dumb! No one owns the concept of headcanon posts or character analyses! Just like how I don't own the concept of character nights!
Again, my last fuck is lost in Kenny's beard, I don't have it anymore. I'm going to write and analyze whatever I want, when I want, and the best I can do is promise to be better. My inbox is open, I'll try to answer and engage with you guys when I can, I'll keep doing these posts where I ramble about whatever topic is on my mind, and I shouldn't have to put a disclaimer of "This is all my opinion and it's okay if you disagree, I'm not trying to invalidate you" because that's implied.
Before I close out this long response, I do wanna add a thank you for the ask, I do appreciate the constructive criticism. Usually anons that have any problem with me after I talk about Violet will just call me a piece of shit and tell me to delete my blog. Maybe this helped you, maybe it didn't, either way thanks :)
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A Miraculous TikTok Account
Part 7
First
Previous
Next
Five people. There were five people in this group.
So why could NONE OF THEM drive?!
Carapace hadn’t been expecting the rich kids to know to drive. Knowing them, they probably had chauffeurs who did it for them or whatever.
But Rena? Ladybug?!
He groaned and struggled to rub his eyes through his mask. It was too early for this.
It was a good thing all of them were fit, because the nearest Home Depot was ages away.
When they got there they decided it was best to just go in a group. Mostly because Chat was still only about half awake and someone (Ladybug) needed to push him around in a cart, but also because they all wanted to have some kind of input about how the board looked.
Carapace took out his phone.
The whole point of the ‘living together’ thing was so they could convince the public they were friends, he might as well get content that made them look like they actually got along.
The first part of the video was Chat, slumped over the front of the cart, face drawn in a sleepy smile, practically purring (actually WAS that purring? Carapace was pretty sure it was...). The camera then panned to Ladybug, who was casually throwing the items they chose at him in attempts to wake them up.
Yes, this included the giant board they were going to use to tack different things on.
No, that didn’t wake him up.
But, then, a few minutes later, he started filming again.
Chloe smiled for the camera. “Testing what can wake up our resident idiot. Trial One!”
She kicked the cart as hard as she could and sent it rolling into a wall.
Chat snored on.
Rena frowned. “Isn’t that more trial two? Ladybug throwing things was trial one.”
“Don’t rope me into this,” said Ladybug without looking up from the two different thumb tacks. She clicked her tongue and held them up for Carapace. “Glittery or not glittery?”
Carapace raised his eyebrows. “Uh… anyone gonna check on him?”
“I’ve watched him fall three stories and say ‘it’s fine’. Now, glittery or not glittery?”
Carapace opened his mouth, then shook his head. It wasn’t worth it. “Not glittery.”
“... I’ve decided you’re not allowed to have an opinion.”
“Then why would you --?!”
Rena held up a hand. “She’s right. You don’t get a say in this.”
“I --?!”
“Hey, Queen Bee, noise usually gets him up.”
“Genius!” Chloe snatched the glittery thumb tacks from Ladybug. “Trial three!”
She walked over to Chat and rattled the box by his ear. There was a shrieking noise and the camera barely caught a flicker of black before the entire cart tipped over and spilled it’s contents (including a very frazzled Chat Noir) onto the floor.
There was a short silence as the miraculous holders and the staff members who had been unfortunate enough to be scheduled for work that day processed what had just happened.
And then Ladybug doubled over laughing.
“Oh my kwami I’m so -- pftHAHAHA -- I’ll help clean up I… I just --” She giggled a little more and held up a finger for a moment as she tried to pull herself together. “One -- heheheh -- sec.”
The camera panned away from her to zoom in on Chat Noir’s pout for a brief second before it cut.
~
All the heroes helped clean up. Obviously. They were heroes.
Once they were done with their cleaning and fifty million apologies, they went back to shopping.
Chat was still in the cart but, after being woken up twice in the same day to the worst sounds his fellow miraculous holders could think of, he was wide awake.
“Guys, it’s Hawkmoth, we have to do purple!”
“No, that’s what he’d want us to do. Go the whole other way and do yellow.”
“Of course you would say that, Bee.”
“What’s that supposed to --?”
Ladybug held her hands up. “Guys, compromise. They’re complimentary colors. We can use both.”
The other three looked at her like she was insane.
Ladybug clicked her tongue and looked over at Carapace. “Are you going to weigh in on this?”
“No. I’d prefer not to get into… whatever this is.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Greeeat. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Ladybug turned to give a tired glare to the three in front of her. “Fine. Fine! I’m deciding. We’re doing purple.”
“But --!” Started Chloe.
“Nope.”
“I --!” Tried Chat.
“Shhhhhhh. It’s decided. Purple.”
There was a little bit of grumbling, but Chloe and Chat did end up putting the yellow back.
Still, the discontent didn’t last long. Partially because it’s Paris and no one is allowed to be annoyed for over five minutes, but also because they all quickly got into choosing different things for the board.
Carapace kind of hung back for this part, because he couldn’t help but cringe whenever Chat or Chloe put something in the cart without looking at the price tags.
(What if Master Fu didn’t count this as a necessary expense? He probably would, and if he didn’t one of the rich kids would end up paying, but… it was still weird to see how careless they were with money.)
Part of him wondered what people thought about their group as they made their way through the store. A group of teenagers, all dressed in varying aesthetics from ‘literally woke up this way’ (Carapace) to ‘oh wow is that child a lawyer’ (Ladybug) to ‘I don’t care about how this looks as long as you know I’m rich’ (Chloe). They didn’t really look like the kind of people who would hang out together...
They were also all wearing masks, that had to be pretty shady.
Actually, now that he was paying attention, he noticed that quite a bit of staff seemed to be watching them.
He tried to tell himself that it was just because they’d made a mess earlier.
He knew that likely wasn’t it.
Carapace instinctively pulled his hoodie lower over his face, sinking into the green fabric. He sped up a little to walk closer to his housemates.
They had stopped to look at different borders.
Chloe was frowning. “ -- which one to choose, they’re all so ugly…”
“We could make our own…?” Said Chat.
“Or, consider, we don’t waste all our time making sure it looks good?” Said Rena.
“We’re not going to get much information for a while, we might as well use our time doing something,” said Chloe.
Rena winced. “Please don’t say that.”
Carapace raised his eyebrows. That was odd. Why was she so determined, anyways?
He shrugged it off. Maybe she just wanted to question Hawkmoth. He wouldn’t put it past her.
His eyes slid over the group to Ladybug, who was occasionally glancing at something and opening her mouth, only to close it again and look away.
He followed her gaze to a bunch of different sized purple, paper butterflies.
Oh. Did she want them and just didn’t know how to say it?
He walked over to the butterflies and checked the price. After a few seconds’ deliberation he made his way down the aisle to look at the construction paper’s prices. Hm… time versus convenience...
He looked up to ask which one would be better and cringed internally when he realized everyone had disappeared.
How did they disappear? They were so loud…
But that wasn’t his problem at the moment.
He pulled down the container of purple butterflies down and started walking.
He tried to ignore the stares of staff members as he wandered the aisles.
“Bonjour!”
Shit.
He turned around and brought a smile to his face as he looked at the lady that had come up to him.
“Salut!” He said brightly, and he tried not to take too much pleasure in the way she winced. It was his go to passive-aggressive move to say ‘Salut’ at this point, to imply that the person judging him was on the same level. Was it petty? Yes. Did it work when it came to trying to figure out if it was something innocent or not? Also yes.
“Is there something I can help you with, sir?”
“No thank you, ma’am, I’m just looking for my friends,” he said.
Should he avoid eye contact and bow his head a little? Would she think that was suspicious? He hadn’t done anything, but he also didn’t have any identification on him which wouldn’t look good if she was going to question him…
“Can I accompany you to help you find them?”
Ah. So she was going down that kind of route?
“Not necessary,” he tried.
“I insist.”
“No thank you. I’m fine.”
“A kid like you shouldn’t be left alone...”
He gripped the packet of paper butterflies so tightly that it dug into his palms.
“I can handle myself, thank you. I’m Carapace,” he said.
He fought back a cringe, but it had been necessary. If he stayed like this too long he could get akumatized, and he really didn’t need that right now.
“And I’m Ladybug,” she said, unimpressed.
Yeah. Fair enough. That was kind of hard to prove. Should he show her the kwami hiding in his pocket…?
No, reaching towards his pocket was decidedly a bad idea. She was way too wary of him for that, who knows what she’d think.
He pulled a fake smile to his face. Fine. If he could get this over with quickly he might be able to get through this without getting akumatized.
“Okay, ma’am, help would be nice, I guess…”
~~~
Taglist
@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0
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kim-miri · 3 years
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HALF(have a little fun) pt. v
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→ one | two | three | four
→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.
» part five / ?
» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka
» warnings: swearing, blood/violence
» a/n: helloo~ this is my first write ever, and it’ll probably be a pretty long series. I’m also balancing school and a part-time job so forgive me for slow updates! If you’re reading this, thank you so much for showing interest and please leave comments below with your inputs!
» word count: 3,127
☾v.
Name: Sayomi Zoldyck 小夜美 | "小" is small | "夜" is night | "美" is beauty |
Hair color: White
Eye Color: Purple
Nen: Manipulator (same exact abilities as Illumi)
Abilities: Same as Illumi Zoldyck - Body Alteration, Hypnotic Spell, Corpse Control, Needle People, Katana
☾v. part v: the mafia(2/2)
Sayomi made her way to the elevators once again, dispatching the control room through her walkie talkie that she needed to get to her shift.
It was currently a quarter to 1, the last minutes before her shift would start. With a hand resting on her katana, Sayomi now exited the elevator having arrived at the 48th floor.
As she approached the VIP’s room, the two bodyguards on duty sighed in relief. 
“Thank god, it’s finally rotation time”, the woman exhaled lazily.
Sayomi tried her luck at a friendly interaction, casually asking the pair a question. “I’m guessing there wasn’t any action?”
The man laughed a genuine, but tired laugh. “Absolutely nothing. We haven’t moved an inch since the start of our shift.”
Sayomi laughed at the pair’s lack of enthusiasm, her violet eyes crinkling at the edges. Her expression of joy seemed infectious, as the older members in front of her laughed along with her in their despair.
She was starting to feel like a true member of the team already.
This is nice, I didn’t expect the others to be as unmotivated as me. 
Closing in on the time designated for the shift change, Sayomi’s partner arrived as well. Seeing no purpose in waiting around when everyone was present, the pairs switched early, starting Sayomi on her very first stretch as a bodyguard.
☾v.
The first 30 minutes into her shift, Sayomi had learned that her partner was a rather quiet person by nature.
Upon starting their shift, the two had exchanged a brief greeting, nodding to acknowledge the other.
It was only after an hour of standing and staring at the wall that Sayomi decided she couldn’t stand the silence while they waited out their shift.
She initiated a conversation with the older man, coming out bold as to establish her character.
“So, how did such an average man like you get stuck working for the mafia?”
The man was unmoving, replying to her question in a soft voice. “My family’s debt… Why did a young girl like you get caught up with the mafia?”
She wasn’t expecting such an honest response from the man. It threw her off, making her unprepared to answer the question shot her way.
“Um… I guess you could say family circumstances?” She hadn’t lied, given that it was her family’s actions that left her at Meteor City.
The man nodded in understanding at her vague answer. 
Another wave of awkward silence fell over the two, Sayomi’s initial attempt at socializing having failed miserably. 
She decided not to reattempt a conversation with the man, sensing that he didn’t care for idle chatter.
Family circumstances, huh. That’s the best thing I could think of. 
Sayomi had fallen deep in thought, her brows furrowing as she reflected back on her life.
I wonder if… father ever came looking for me? Or Illumi… did Illumi want me gone too? Ah, I shouldn’t be so dramatic about this. Either way I won’t return home, because that would mean mother winning. 
She exhaled audibly, tired from the splurge of thoughts that had taken over her mind once again. 
The man glanced over at the teen stationed next to him. She was obviously just as bored as he was to be stuck with this job.
Moving his eyes back forward to the wall in front of him, he attempted to kickstart a conversation once again. “You seem a bit too young to be on your own, don’t you miss your family?”
Sayomi blinked at the man in surprise, both at the question and the fact that he had initiated a conversation.
She contemplated whether she should tell the truth or cover it up with a lie. Deciding that a lie would take more effort, she settled for the truth. “I’ve been in the assassin business for 6 years now, so I wouldn’t say too young… I do miss my little brother though. Do you miss your family?”
As the man appeared to be deep in thought, Sayomi mulled over her words. My little brother… Killua, are they treating you alright?
“My apologies for assuming. And, yes, I do indeed miss my family. But, why haven’t you escaped yet, then? With no leverage against you, you could easily run away at any time.” The man spoke while looking at her this time. 
She thought about his question. “I guess… well, I don’t really have anywhere else to go. It’s my first time in Yorknew City, and I wouldn’t want to go back home to the people that left me in the first place.”
He let out a hmm at her response, obviously putting the pieces of her situation together. “If I told you of a way you could live here in Yorknew without being trapped under the mafia… would you oblige?” 
His eyes were soft and earnest. He knew what it was like to remain helpless at the hands of the Mafia, and saw no reason she should as well, especially at such a young age.
Sayomi’s expression formed one of shock and surprise, obviously taken aback by the man’s sincerity to help.
“I suppose I would… but if you know of a way out, why haven’t you left yet?” The two were now holding eye contact as if to read the other’s intentions. 
“I’m afraid I’ve already received too much from the Mafia. I owe my life as well as my family’s safety to them.” He responded somberly.
Sayomi nodded silently, understanding the man’s situation. She decided to at least take a listen to the plan he had to offer. “So, you know of a way I can live in Yorknew without the Mafia breathing over my shoulder?”
There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, and the man could sense it as something between the recklessness of a teenager and the confidence of a powerful assassin. She has no fears. I wonder how much she’s experienced to be this strong at such a young age.
“Ah, yes. Sticking with the Mafia will never do you any good. There’s a way of living here in Yorknew City if you’re especially confident in your fighting abilities. It’s called Heaven’s Arena.”
Sayomi raised her eyebrows at the man’s words, curious. Heaven’s Arena? Sounds like some shoddy place where people bet on fights.
“Alright, you’ve got my attention. So, what does one do at Heaven’s Arena?” Sayomi asked.
The man cracked a ghost of a smile at her interest. “You fight. From what I’ve heard, it’s set up in multiple floors, and each time you win they let you advance to higher floors. I’m pretty sure the pay goes up with each floor as well.”
Sayomi was impressed. A place where they pay you to fight? Count me in.
“I wonder what the catch is though… if it’s as easy as you say, wouldn’t everyone be taking their chances at Heaven’s Arena?”
The man hummed in agreement with her words. “You’re right. The most I’ve heard is that once you reach a certain point, the matches become a fight to the death, and through any means possible. I’m guessing that’s where most people falter- it’s either life or death matches that’ll provide you with a stable income, or small fights once in a while that pay very little. Only the strongest find what they’re looking for at Heaven’s Arena.”
Gambling with your life in order to pay the bills… 
“And you think I could make it at Heaven’s Arena?”
The man looked down at Sayomi with a fatherly gaze. “I don’t think you’re the type of person to need someone else’s approval. But to answer your question, yes, I think with the right amount of training you could find a new life with Heaven’s Arena.”
Sayomi smiled at his judgement of her character. “Well, then that does it. I just need to find my way out of the Mafia’s grasp, and then I can get to training.”
☾v.
Sayomi’s shift was over before she knew it. Just as the pair before them had said, their VIP client had no one after him. 
Her partner had told her all he knew about Heaven’s Arena and the Mafia from his many years working in Yorknew City. 
She had learned that there were members of the Mafia hidden within the assassin recruits, keeping anyone from sneaking away. Her escape would have to be well planned out to avoid getting caught along with any consequences.
Tagging out with the next pair of bodyguards, Sayomi head back to her room once again.
2 days later
VIP Adachi Yuto’s stay came to an end, with it marking the end of Sayomi’s first job. The team was dissolved as a result, and Sayomi was dispatched by her section leader to meet with him down at the lobby.
The section leader turned out to be the man who had first brought her to Yorknew City, a familiar face that relaxed Sayomi’s nerves a great amount.
Upon meeting, he was immediately down to business, letting Sayomi know of her next assignment. 
It was an assassin’s job.
She had originally planned to find a way out of the Mafia’s scope soon, but with the mention of her finally getting some action, the plan was postponed. 
Her target was a man in his 30s. No other information was given to her besides a photo and his location. 
Not much to her surprise, an ankle monitor was situated around her right leg, keeping her from straying from the job.
Damn you, bloodlust. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to ditch the cold blood and murder mother and father drilled into my head.
Sayomi was falling victim to her old habits. She knew it was wrong to stick around any longer, but the consequences of the offer to satisfy her thirst for blood didn’t sink in until the cool metal of her ankle monitor pressed into her skin.
The man seemed to read Sayomi’s thoughts as she realized her mistake. “The ankle monitor is programmed to shock the user upon our command. It’s enough power to deal sufficient damage to even the largest of animals, so I insist you remain focused on the missions we give you. We never enjoy having to resort to using it, but keep in mind that we will not hesitate to, given a reason.”
She looked down at her ankle in defeat. It seemed Heaven’s Arena would have to wait.
☾v.
Later that night
Sayomi paced anxiously about in her hotel room. It was a mix of long-overdue bloodlust and hatred towards herself as a result of her assassin’s instinct to kill.
Deep inside her head, a war of conflicting feelings raged on.
Calm down, Sayomi. Every time you do this it’s only proving that mother succeeded in sculpting you into her little assassin. 
She had completely thrown away a perfect chance to escape just because she couldn’t control her impulses to kill in cold blood. 
But is it that wrong to want to kill? Being an assassin doesn’t mean I’ll be exactly like mother. I can control my own future now, I am my own person.
Setting her katana down against the wall, she opted for her needles instead. It had been a while since she’d used the smaller weapons because they reminded her of the past.
Now putting the past behind her, Sayomi walked with a new air of confidence. It was her greatest skill and job to kill, she’d decided. And this was a decision she had come to on her own, a new mindset for a new beginning.
A static-ridden dispatch over her walkie talkie marked the beginning of her assignment, and Sayomi headed down to the lobby. 
Since she was still underage, a driver was provided to her, stationed in front of the hotel with her designated license plate.
The brisk night air greeted Sayomi as she exited the hotel. It was currently a few minutes past 12, the streets being mostly empty except for the young city goers enjoying the nightlife in Yorknew City.
Exhaling out an envious sigh at the stunning city lights surrounding her, Sayomi watched her breath disappear into the night as she walked briskly to the car.
The drive to her target’s location was silent. Sayomi sat alone in the back seat, watching with empty eyes as friends, lovers, and complete strangers came together in harmony within the lively city.  
She started to wonder what it would be like to live a normal life like them. What would she be doing right now? Staying up and texting friends? Going to bed before midnight? 
As the teen sat in the back of a luxurious car going towards her next target to assassinate, she couldn’t help but wish she had a normal life, with friends who cared about her feelings or guy problems instead of waiting for orders on which guy she would kill next.
These are useless thoughts. There’s no turning back now.
The car came to a stop at an intimidatingly tall company building, around the same height as the hotel.
Stretching her limbs as she exited the car, the driver notified Sayomi he would wait for her return in the same spot. 
Thanking the driver for his services, she took quick steps towards the entrance of the building. With her persistently developed speed and underground techniques, sneaking in and out of the building would be no problem.
Taking notice of the lack of security, she rolled her eyes as she let out a breath in annoyance. This is amateur work. 
Activating her zetsu, Sayomi’s menacing purple aura dissipated into thin air as she dashed past the sorry line of security, making her way to a deserted hallway.
There was a lone guard doing rounds with a bright flashlight in hand, failing to notice the slight breeze that Sayomi had left in her path.
Positioning a needle between her fingers, Sayomi flicked her wrist out at lightning speed, sending the needle flying towards the guard. 
It hit home in the guard’s neck, knocking him out instantly. Taking nimble steps towards the fallen guard, Sayomi made quick work of grabbing his access badge before heading to the elevators. 
Seeing as no one else was around, she tabbed an elevator, rocking back and her toes as she waited.
Just as she had expected, the elevator required an access badge, which she tapped against the scanner while pressing on the button for the 38th floor.
In a bored attempt to keep herself preoccupied on the way up, Sayomi spread her band of needles out in her hands. Closing her eyes, she ran a pale hand over the band. 
Her hand came down on a single needle, the needle she would use to finish off her target. Putting the band back into her pocket, she held the single needle between her knuckles, adrenaline rushing through her veins.
The elevators chime signified Sayomi’s arrival at the 38th floor. The floor was empty, being past working hours and in between shifts for the security guards.
A single desk lamp shone in her target's office, and Sayomi strolled casually to the partially open door.
She could see from where she approached that her target was busy at work, having stayed overtime. 
Knocking twice on the inside of the open door, Sayomi just barely caught the attention of the man before moving her wrist in a single, fluid motion.
The man had no chance to react, slumping face down onto his desk with a muffled thump.
She had hit the jugular clean and precise, leaving no trail behind of her job besides the now motionless man.
Satisfied with her work, Sayomi returned to the elevators with a skip in her step. A few months without my needles and I’ve still got it!
Greeting her driver with a smile this time around, she didn’t blame him for being utterly confused. 
The job had taken her just under 5 minutes, the majority of the time belonging to the elevator rides up and down from the 38th floor.
Dispatching her section leader of the completed job, Sayomi returned back to the hotel, looking as if she had gone out for an evening stroll.
Her section leader greeted her in the lobby, letting her know she had the remainder of the night off. She frowned slightly at the news, her adrenaline still rushing from the short job. 
An easy target like today always left her wanting more, unsatisfied with the lack of fighting that came with it.
I’m getting all caught up in this again.
Shaking away her thoughts of possibly finding more action, Sayomi returned to her room with slumped shoulders. She forced herself to set her needles back down on her nightstand, finding it hard to keep herself from fiddling with them.
It was late. And though the 51st floor around her seemed to be deep in sleep, Sayomi was restless. 
She decided to wash up and take a quick shower to relax her nerves, changing out of the uniform and into one of the other outfits they had provided her with.
Wrapping her silvery-white hair in a towel, she opted to sit on the floor, gazing out of the floor length window in front of her.
Yorknew City was quieting down, the street vendors having cleaned up for the night, stores being long closed, and clubs starting to die down. The last of the neon signs flickered in the darkness, looking like tiny specks of color from where Sayomi sat, high above most of the buildings bordering the one she was in.
The 16 year old girl sat cross-legged in a trance, no longer focused on the city in front of her, but something within her mind.
What am I gonna do now… I ruined my chances of escaping anytime soon. All because I couldn’t control myself, my old habits. Does this mean mother was successful with her plans?
No. I don’t have to give in to defeat. I’ll find a way out, just like how I got out of Meteor City. Maybe if I gain their trust they’ll take this ankle monitor off. 
I just have to become one of their obedient assassins, quiet and reliable. 
Sayomi fell asleep slouched on the rough carpeted floor that night, lost in her own thoughts and emotions.
But despite the uncomfortable position, her face proved differently. She was only ever at peace when she was fast asleep, because that’s when she could see her loved ones within dreams.
Illumi, Killua… Are you two taking good care of each other? Are you doing better than I am? 
Do you guys even miss me? 
I miss you two so much I feel like I could die. 
☾v.
to be continued.
a/n: taglist open!
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