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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months

Note

Hey I realy like your yandere twisted wonderland x kny post(s). Can I ask for the yandere dorm leaders react to (platonic and non-yandere) Tsutako Giyu blocking any of the leaders' romantic advancements toward their tanjirou!reader, because Giyu does not trust the leaders at all? Please and thank you,take care of yourself.

Tomioka Giyuu Blocking Tanjiro Reader| Yandere Twisted Wonderland

While Tsutako would certainly do that if you were her sibling but what would an average woman be able to do for you against a bunch of magical suitors stalkers. Tomioka is the one who’d really be an obstacle. No one seems to like him, let alone notice him half the time but his words are golden to you and the boys are having quite a lot of trouble getting past him. Giyuu himself may think he’s trash but you are most certainly not. You’re walking perfection and if he’s going to use the placeholder position of Hashira he’s using it to protect you:

Idia Shroud

“Whoa!? When did you get here?!”

“A couple minutes ago.”

“Oh…okay then…”

“...”

“If you bring that device anywhere near (Y/n) I’m slicing your legs off.”

He first thought Giyuu was like him

A fellow loner who could understand his desire to have you

And he found that Giyuu was a loner

Just not one that was friendly to him

And he’s more than aware of Idia’s influence but that won’t matter when Giyuu’s faster than Ortho when it comes to his blade

“A-a worthy opponent h-has entered the chat!”

Leona Kingscholar

“They won’t have to die fighting that demon king or whatever. Don’t you want that?”

“I want them to be the next water Hashira and if you’re going to get in the way of that I know over 46 pressure points on your body that will temporarily paralyze you.”

He didn’t like him from the start

He’s expression, his face, all of it infuriates him

Not to mention he really is that much faster than him

Leona’s going to have to try another tactic to get this guy off your back

“Maybe we’re not hearing each other right. How about you put down the sword and then try stopping me?”

Vil Schoenheit

“You seem really intent on getting in my way…is this jealousy?”

“It's not but you remind me of someone horrible.”

“Oh? Is it yourself?”

“Nope it's a horrible woman named Shinobu Kocho.”

He’s no match for him physically

But his charisma greatly exceeds Giyuu’s

Something he’s sure to remind the Hashira of with every chance

But since Giyuu doesn’t seem to sway he’s got to be more conniving

Which should be fine for someone with poisons against a sword

“Hope this isn't your first time playing with poisons because it may be your last.”

Azul Ashengrotto

“You might be interested in knowing the future, right? Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

“You sound like a demon.”

“Oh? Am I a handsome one at least?”

“I kill demons for a living.”

“...oh..”

Azul’s own charm doesn’t save him here and it's killing him

He already has to woo you

and this guy isn’t budging

The twins won’t bother him

And he won’t even look at a contract

This octopus is getting desperate

“You won’t like me when I’m cornered Giyuu.”

Kalim Al Asim

“What?! Why would you want to leave? I have more of that bread you like!”

“Nice try but we have a job to get to.”

“But how do you plan to do your job when you’re going to get hurt?”

“That shouldn’t matter to a civilian like you!”

While Giyuu is entranced by the way Kalim seems to like him

He’s sure its a trick

And he can’t afford to die before giving you his title

“Hey. Don’t leave, we were just having fun!”

Malleus Draconia

“Why would you leave this place? If you are certain you are going to die, why bring my (Y/n) with you?”

“I’m not bringing them anywhere, this is their decision. Don’t you want to honor their avenging of their family?!”

“Not if it means losing them!”

This is a hard one

Malleus can actually defeat Giyuu

But his will is strong as well as his effect on you

So he can’t be too hasty

But a prince forgets and Giyuu’s in trouble

“If you are going to be such a problem for us, I will just skip to a time where you are not alive.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“As the queen’s decree you cannot just run off with my subjects or prospective lovers!”

“And I can’t stand you types.”

“Grr! Off with his head!”

He doesn’t initially have a problem with him

But to see you rely on someone so awkward much taller

It irks him

Even worse he’s warning you about him now

And he can’t have that

“Don’t get in my way unless you want to be beheaded too!"

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yandere-writer-momo · 5 months

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Baki 12 days of Christmas… an angsty yandere for @justamegafan. Merry Christmas!!

The mc is Hanayama’s arranged fiancée who he hates (at first). A trope I will never stop writing until I’m shot dead on the spot

Yandere Baki Shorts: A Christmas Carol

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Afab Reader

TW: Angst, mentioned character death (spoiler), Yandere, and mention of terminal illness

Hanayama often found his fiancée scuttling around his office like a little crab. She was such a skittish thing, with big, innocent eyes and a soft voice. She was weak, something Hanayama disliked most in a partner. And she always tried her best to get to know him… today was no exception

“Can we please spend Christmas together? Just this once?” Hanayama sighed when she stared up at him with her doe like eyes. Why couldn’t she get the hint that he wanted to be left alone?

“This is merely an arrangement by our families, I could care less about your feelings and the stupid holidays.” Hanayama ran a hand through his dark locks. “You’re bothering me so I suggest you leave.”

Hanayama ignored the soft sobs that escaped her lips and he didn’t even cast her a glance when she wished him a soft “Happy holidays.” The door quietly shut behind her and he went back to work. At least she could shut the door properly.

Hanayama shoved the Christmas cookies she made him into the trash beside his desk and continued to work on his paperwork. Hopefully this was the last time he’d ever have to deal with her… he couldn’t stand this arrangement but he kept with it because he wanted to honor his deceased mother’s wishes. Hanayama knew he could never grow to love the meek woman no matter how hard he tried, she’d break if he so much as touched her. She was far too fragile for him.

When it finally became night, Hanayama decided to retire for the night. The yakuza went to lay down in his bed but the screen door to his room suddenly opened and a cold, winter breeze blew in. What on earth?

“Hello.” Hanayama nearly jumped out of his skin when a ghostly apparition stood at the foot of his bed. The youthful face of his mother stared back at him which left his mouth gaping like a fish. “It’s been so long…”

“M-mom?” Hanayama reached out for the figure but she gently put his hands down. She was as cold as ice… “Why are you here?”

“We need to go for a walk… a nice, long walk.” His mother gave him a soft smile as she lead him around towards the door of his room. “A walk in the past.”

“The past… what do you mean?”

“Well, I’m the ghost of Christmas past.” His mother smiled as the walls of the compound began to change to the ones he was familiar with when he was a child. What kind of magic was this? How was this even possible? “You need to be reminded of your origins…”

Hanayama was shocked to see himself as a child crying as he sat beside his mother in the old family room. The ghost beside him pointed to the red welt on her human body’s face. “I used to beg your father to stay with me every once and awhile… to spend time with us as a family.”

Hanayama frowned as he watched the image play out of his mother. How could he forget that his mother had begged to spend time with his father when he was younger… perhaps he had blocked all those memories out since he had to become the leader of the yakuza at a young age? “This was the Christmas where I found out I had cancer… I really wanted to spend time with him since my time was running out…”

The ghost shook her head and lead Hanayama back to his room once she felt as if he understood her point.

The ghost held Hanayama’s hand. “You’ve grown so much… you look just like your father.”

Hanayama went to hold the ghost but she pushed him back, “and you’re just like your father.”

“Wait! Please don’t go-“ the figure of his mother was gone in a flash which left him clutching his chest in sorrow. Why did his mom leave so fast… wasn’t she proud that he’s taken over the family? Why did she show him such an image?

“It’s been awhile, Hanayama.” Hanayama froze when he noticed the ghostly figure of Retsu standing at his door. “It seems that it’s my turn with you as the ghost of Christmas Present.”

Hanayama was silent in thought. Retsu had just passed away recently yet… why would he be here? Retsu had nothing to do with his life…

Retsu waved Hanayama to follow him and Hanayama obliged. The two walked in silence until they stopped in front of a small room in the furthest corner of the compound. Retsu placed a hand on the screen door which made it into a mirror that they could see inside… (your name) sat in her room violently coughing.

“You know I was her best friend when I was alive.” Retsu whispered as he turned to look at Hanayama. “She’s dying, you know.”

Hanayama froze in shock. (Your name) was dying… she was dying. Why hadn’t she told him she was sick? Why- Hanayama was drawn out of his thoughts when Retsu held up a hand. The Chinese man frowned at Hanayama. “You don’t listen to her so she’s never told you… she needs new lungs.”

Hanayama placed a hand on the doorway when he saw her hold up a handkerchief full of blood. She was so fragile… just like his mother. And he had been so cruel to her. How could he-

“I was planning on confessing to her once I beat Musashi.” Retsu shared with Hanayama as he went into the room and sat beside (your name). She obviously couldn’t see Retsu as she softly cried. “I was in love with her.”

Hanayama clenched his fists as he watched Retsu drape a blanket around (your name)’s shoulders which made her look around the room in surprise. The man turned to Hanayama with a frown. “But my own pride ruined everything… I just want her to be happy.”

“… did you come here to gloat in my face?”

“No. She didn’t feel the same way.” Retsu smiled at Hanayama as he combed his fingers through (your name)’s hair. The ghost smiled sadly. “It’s so unfair… she deserves so much better than you.”

Hanayama was offended despite how correct Retsu was… he truly didn’t deserve (your name). She was always kind and sweet to him despite how many times he pushed her away over the years. She was undaunted by his rejection and still tried to get to know him… he should give it another chance. He should do something wonderful for her tomorrow…

Retsu rested his ghostly head on (your name)’s shoulder with a sad sigh. He pressed a parting kiss to her shoulder which made her glance around the room in confusion. The man then lead Hanayama back to his room. “I’m sorry… my feelings started to get in the way of what I was meant to show you. You’ll be visited by one last ghost, the ghost of Christmas future.”

Hanayama went to say something to Retsu but he was gone in a flash. The yakuza stood in the center of the room in confusion. One more ghost… who on earth could that be?

Hanayama then felt a sudden chill run down his spine as the room before him melted away into that of a grave yard. A ghastly figure in a black cloak that covered their body floated into the room. A skeletal hand was placed on his shoulder while the other pointed at a gravestone with (your name)‘s name on it. No… (your name) would die? She couldn’t die… she was so young.

Hanayama didn’t even have time to think before the ghost snapped their fingers and showed Hanayama a much older of himself who sat hunched over his desk. The older version sobbing as he held his head. What on earth had happened?

“You never found love again after she died.” The ghost whispered into his ear. “You actually went insane with guilt and it made your yakuza family fall apart.”

Hanayama watched this foreign version of him chug down an entire bottle of whiskey as he held a picture in his hand… it was a wedding picture of him and (your name)… they were meant to get married in a few months… so this must be a few years from now.

“I didn’t know… I didn’t know…” the other version of Hanayama whispered as he pressed his forehead against the picture. “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry.”

Hanayama frowned at how his office was in disarray. This wasn’t like him at all… why on earth was his office so messy?

“She kept all your paperwork organized. She’d sneak into your office when you were asleep to try to help you out since you’re not every good with numbers.” The ghost chuckled bitterly. “She as such a stupid woman… falling in love with a man as selfish as you.”

Hanayama gasped when the ghost pulled up the hood over their head to reveal (your name). Except there was no warmness in her eyes nor was there her tender smile. Why did she look so cold… why did she look at him with such eyes full of resentment? She loved him…

“This is your future. My future.” The ghost told him with a sigh. “You have to change, Hanayama.”

Hanayama but his lip as he stared at the sobbing figure of his future self. He didn’t want to be so pathetic…

“What do I have to do?” Hanayama asked the ghost who frowned at him. She didn’t say a word as she walked away. Hanayama went to follow her but the hallways began to distort and show Hanayama a different ghost of (your name) who sat side by side with the ghost Retsu. They looked so happy… she wasn’t supposed to be with Retsu. She was his. “Wait! Where are you going?”

Many images of the way he’s treated his fiancée flashed by him as he hopelessly chased after the ghost. Her teary face and bloody handkerchief now haunted him… he didn’t want her to suffer anymore. Hanayama didn’t want her to die… she couldn’t die. And he certainly didn’t want his wife to be with another man. No. She was his… (your name) belonged to him.

“There’s nothing you can do.” The ghost told him as she gave him a soft smile that was eerily similar to the ones his (your name) gave him. “Now wake up.”

And that’s when Hanayama fell into a dark bottomless pit. The large man couldn’t even utter a sound before he woke up in his bed. His body was covered in sweat and his eyes were wide in horror. A nightmare…

Hanayama’s hands grabbed at his body in shock before he gave a laugh full of disbelief escaped him. He was alive… he was fine…

Hanayama shot out of bed and quickly made his way towards (your name)’s room. He had to make sure she was alive… he had to make sure she was okay.

Hanayama slammed the door open to (your name)’s room which scared the poor girl out of her wits. She was already dressed for the day and was shocked to see Hanayama in his pajamas.

“O-oh. I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong-“ (your name) was shocked when Hanayama pulled her into a hug. The giant man pressed kissed all over her cheeks with passionate fervor.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Hanayama chanted as he ran his thumbs over her soft cheeks. “Let’s spend Christmas together.”

(Your name) couldn’t utter a single word out before she was whisked out of her room and brought to the dining room she had always wanted to sit at with him. What was going on? Had Hanayama gone insane? She was going to leave him alone just like he had wanted… so why did he have this sudden change of heart.

Hanayama had his servants quickly prepare a gran breakfast for the two of them. His large hand held hers close to his chest. The yakuza boss pressed kisses all over her knuckles as he waited for their food.

“I won’t ever ignore you again. We’ll spend every meal together and you can move into my room…” Hanayama gave her a soft smile. “And I’ll pay for your medicine, okay? You can get that procedure-“

“I-I never told you I was sick.” (Your name) whispered as she tried to pull her hand away. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything for me-“

(Your name) gasped when Hanayama suddenly pulled her onto his lap and pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss. His dark eyes never let hers. “Nonsense… I’m going to be a good fiancé from now on and an even better husband.”

Hanayama’s hands began to explore her curves as a different kind of hunger filled his eyes. “I’ll take care of your every need from now on… because you’re mine.”

Rather than change for the better, he had changed for the worse

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imaginecolby · 1 year

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quietly || c.b.

summary: you were the shy type, comparatively to colby’s social status. but he loved you no matter what.

requested by anonymous.

how you found yourself in the relationship you were in was confusing, but you were never one to complain. you were with someone who was very much in the spotlight, and had minimal privacy, which was the exact opposite of who you were. you were more the shy, quiet, reserved type, and how your boyfriend developed feelings for you was still a shock.

again, you were never one to complain.

you and colby had met a few years ago, quite literally bumping into each other at a coffee shop. your meeting felt like it was out of a tv show or work of fiction, as your drinks crushed between you and spilled onto the floor.

"oh god, i am so sorry." he said, embarrassed as the two of your picked the trash up from the floor. he turned to the barista and alerted them of the mess.

"no, i was on my phone and not paying attention. it's okay." you said, scooping trash into your hand before moving it to the can, barely looking up at the stranger.

you cleaned up as much of the trash as you could before someone came over to mop. you and colby apologized profusely for making a mess. they told you not to worry about it, and they were thankful you at least attempted to clean up some.

colby got back in line to reorder his drinks and insisted paying for another drink for you as well. you took him up on his offer, standing with him while you waited. you made idle and awkward conversation while you did so.

colby was seemingly a very nice man, and you were sure that your reluctance to answer his questions was pushing him away. but you didn't know how to hold conversation with strangers. you didn't want to seem to eager or accidentally overshare.

"im sorry for staining your shirt, but i hope this makes up for it a little bit." colby said, handing you your drink.

"it's okay. this is an old shirt anyway." you laughed, shrugging your shoulders. you exchanged your goodbyes and went on your way.

you and colby ended up crossing paths many times over the next few months. you realized quickly that you must've lived near each other, because you kept running into each other at restaurants and stores, and a couple more times at the same coffee shop.

all that to say that you and him had a very unusual start, but over the years you'd grown very close. you became quick friends and eventually began dating.

a few years into your relationship, you were out with colby, sam, and katrina, having been invited to a house party of some friends of theirs.

throughout the night, you and katrina hung out mostly with each other, as colby mingled with the guests, making small talk with some people he knew. after a while, he met you back in the kitchen, mixing both you and him fresh drinks.

"you enjoying yourself?" he asked you. you nodded, a small "mhm" escaping your lips.

"katrina and i have been talking to a bunch of people. katrina mostly, but im enjoying listening to the conversations." you said. you didn't want to admit it to him, but you were feeling a little overwhelmed with your surroundings, and wished you could call it a night and head home. he knew you wouldn't admit it, but he could tell that you were ready to go.

you watched as colby glanced down at his watch, noting the time. "we'll probably head out soon. sam and i will make the rounds, say bye, and i'll come find you." he said, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your temple.

"i love you." you said quietly as he walked off.

he found sam and the two of them made their way around the house, wrapping up conversations and saying their good byes.

just as he was about to make his way back to you, colby heard someone calling his name. he turned to find some guy he'd met in the social media space maybe once or twice. definitely not someone he really considered a friend.

"hey, what's up man?" he asked, stopping at the guy who had called out to him. they talked for a little bit, exchanging pleasantries.

"so, i met your girl earlier." the guy said, his glance shifting towards the kitchen. colby followed his gaze and his eyes landed on you. his heart stuttered in his chest, just looking at you was enough to make him nervous.

"y/n." colby corrected, but the guy ignored him.

"is she always that quiet? it felt like she was judging me the whole time we were talking. it was kinda off-putting."

"she's quite shy, yes, but it normally doesn't take long for her to warm up to people. if you felt like she was judging you, then maybe that's on you." colby said with a shrug, walking away before the guy had another chance to speak. he made his way to the kitchen, meeting back up with you and katrina. sam had joined as well, and the four of you were ready to go.

once you got back home, you were in the bathroom getting ready for bed. you'd finished taking off your makeup and washing your face, and you moved to the closet to grab your pajamas. as you were changing, you heard colby walk into the bathroom.

"hey, who was that guy you were talking to just before we left? it looked like he said something that pissed you off." you asked. you stood behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"i dont even remember his name, i’ve only met him a couple other times. he said that he talked to you a little bit at some point during the night," his eyes met yours in the mirror and you nodded in confirmation, "and that it felt like you were judging him because of how quiet you were in the midst of the conversation."

"well, he did seem kinda douchey, so," you laughed quietly before moving to the bedroom.

"that's the same thing i told him. i told him that it normally doesn't take you long to warm up to people, and if he felt that way, then it was probably his own doing." colby said, climbing into bed next to you.

"i appreciate you defending my character." you said with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pulled him into your chest and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"i always will." he said, kissing you again. "i love you."

"i love you." you repeated. you turned your back to him as he pulled you into his chest, his lips pressing to your cheeks as he kissed you good night.

you wished that your demeanor didn't turn people, strangers especially, off from wanting to talk to you. but you appreciated that colby would always stick up for you.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction

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uchihaharlot · 3 months

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I didn't mean to break their hearts, I was just curious, srry!😭😭 (but Itachi's one was kinda funny-)

But anyway, now I'm wondering about how they would react if they found out that you can draw really cool and beautiful.

(I'm an artist, so😎)

Nonny 🥹🥹

That put me in an really good mood; lol. That was way too fun to write; maybe I can one day write a super angsty break up (but I love them too much!!!).

I love all artists 😭😭😭 Painters, writers — digital or paper. Anything that expresses the inner workings of someone’s mind and the fact that they can manifest it to reality is so so so beautiful. I hope I’ve secretly seen your art, I’d probably simp over it. Always simp over art. 😂😂🥹🥹

N/SFW; very cute Uchiha men adoring your artwork! 🥹🥹🥹 (ooc Madara??); Simpy Obito; …Scandalous Shisui; abnormally observant Itachi 😂 suggestive themes rolled out the further I got. For some reason, I just had to. (P.s. I should not be allowed to write when tired??? Half of this was done while my eyes rolled shut in bed).

Madara:

It’s not everyday that Madara is blown like a leaf in the wind. When you mentioned being a patron of the arts, he thought maybe the art of battle?? Didn’t expect your weapon to be a paint brush with some acrylic paint. Thought it was some weird jutsu infused shit.

And then you just had to go above and beyond and do a portrait of him for his birthday!!!!! It’s hung on the living room center wall so that it’s the first thing anyone sees! Honestly, this man is a brute, but your art envokes his softer side! A side that he hasn’t been in touch with for…well, a long time.

Makes sure that everyone and I mean, everyone, is aware of your talent! Still, he tries to find the side hussle in it, soliciting customers for you and all. 😭😭 Will trash talk the chalk art children make on the sidewalk, which ‘…that’s not nice, they’re children..’ you say. He shrugs, nobody is as good as you.

Obito:

Finds out and tries to ‘secretly’ commission you lmao. Makes it totally obvious too, his handwriting is shit and eveeeerrryyyyone knows who Tobi really is…. Plus how can you even begin without discussing what he wants done!! Duh, Obito! Unfortunately for him, you are more interested in drawing matters of the flesh. He’ll only show his chest, nothing more.

‘That’s fine.’ You shrug, and get to work. Obito, however, does not have the resolve to sit still! It’s frustrating to no end, but alas, after what seems an eternity— its done. Sort of. Still much to add, but the basics are there and you’ll work better when he’s not asking how does it look every twenty minutes.

Eventually you do finish this beautiful piece of him, and Obito cries. You made his scars tolerable and beautiful with your mind’s creativity, he feels less self conscious about them, only a little.

Shisui:

Is the least normal about it when he discovered your sketchbook — more like snatched and played keep away. Had to fight him for it, literally. Will ask you to paint/draw him naked…many times lol and you respectfully say no... Not that he likes people to see him naked (ok maybe a little?) but he secretly hopes it might happen one day. It would be a private thing for the two of you, cause he wants that ass.

And when you do cave to his whim, just to satiate him. He’s nervous lmao. Had this oh so macho man idea of rocking a hard on but Shisui simply maintains his usual semi. It’s nice though, you make sure it’s extremely detailed..as he asked for.

But, ‘(y/n)… this is chibbi!!!’ Lol, jokes on Shisui!! He didn’t say how to draw his pp.

Itachi:

Is the most normal about it. Though he still will praise you every time you finish a piece and show him, he is still massively impressed. How does your wrist not get tired? …maybe this is why your hand jobs are so good. 😈 Just watching you try a new technique (pointillism, which is my favorite style) makes his wrist hurt. Enjoys when you ask him for ideas! He has lots of them! Mostly…obscure and derelict landscapes though.

Would not be opposed to having his portrait done, but it’s really not his style. He is disciplined enough to sit still but doesn’t see the value in it. Not until the final product is revealed, does he truly understand how important this piece was. You’ve captured his personality in a new light.

#madara headcanons #obito headcanons #shisui headcanons #itachi headcanons #madara x reader #obito x reader #shisui x reader #itachi x reader #madara uchiha #obito uchiha #shisui uchiha #itachi uchiha #uchiha clan #uchiha family #uchiha headcanons

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rodricksfilipinagf · 7 days

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Karma's A Bitch Part 1 (Jamie Tartt x Reader, Enemies to Lovers)

Summary: Idealistic, hopeless romantic Y/N is the new marketing intern at AFC Richmond who instantly tops star player and major asshole Jamie Tartt's shit list for daring to stand up to him.

Today’s my first day as a marketing intern at AFC Richmond! I really like Keeley already- she’s so nice. She was immediately welcoming to me and even listened to my rant about the newest season of Bridgerton. I think working here is going to be exciting because Jamie Tartt trains here and I’ve had sex fantasies about him ever since I saw him modeling in a champagne ad. I was ecstatic to be placed here because then that meant we can meet and interact and possibly fall in love and reenact my sex dreams.

I can see the players coming into the building from the field. Oh my God, that means Jamie’s coming! What if he falls in love with me on sight? That wouldn’t happen probably but it’d be so romantic.

Jamie is wearing his gray practice jersey and grey warm up jacket. He is making the drab colors work for him.

When he’s just about to pass me, I say, “Hey, Jamie, I’m Y/N and I just want to say-“

He brushes right past me, shoving his water bottle into my hands. “Thanks,” he dismisses, not even turning around.

Well. That dream’s dead now. My cheeks flush with anger and I guess my body reacts before my mind. I don’t think about how this will affect my internship or dealing with him in the future. I just want to make him pay.

I catch up to him, seizing his arm and blocking his path.

His eyes narrow in annoyance. “What do you want?”

I unscrew the bottle cap. “I used to admire you a lot, but…” I stand on my tiptoes and pour all the water from the bottle onto Jamie’s face. “Not anymore, dickhead.”

He blinks, looking furious. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you know who I am?”

“Yes,” I say. “A terrible person who treats people like crap. Everything else doesn’t matter to me. Not how famous you are or how rich you are or how many goals you score and certainly not how hot you are!” I regret saying that last part.

“You think I’m hot?” he asks. Then he laughs. “What, are you mad that I’m not falling all over myself for you?”

“You wish,” I say. “I just think you shouldn’t be rude to interns- or anyone- because you’re some big star.”

“You’re interning here?” Jamie’s nose wrinkles as if he smells something rancid. Then he draws up. “Then let me tell you how it works around here. You learn respect, you do what I say, and if I want your fucking opinion, I’ll ask.”

“I’m actually in the marketing department, not your personal assistant. And I’ll respect you when you learn not to be a dick,” I retort.

“Whatever. Just stay out of my way.” He knocks my shoulder with his before storming off.

Today I’m handing out schedules to the players about marketing stuff. I barely make eye contact when I get to Jamie, who is chewing gum. I just shove it at him. “This is yours.”

“Perfect,” Jamie says. “I’ve been looking for a place to put my gum.”

“How about up your ass?” I say nastily.

Scorn enters Jamie’s eyes. “I see you still haven’t learned respect, intern.” He takes his wet gum out of his mouth and sticks it into my hand. “Toss this in the trash for me.”

` What an entitled prick. “In the trash? Sure.” I press his chewed gum into his forehead. By now the whole team is watching. “Is here good?” I taunt.

A lot of the other players start laughing. I bet Jamie’s been an ass to all of them at least once, and they love seeing him brought down a peg.

He looks furious, using the paper his schedule is on to scrape gum off his face. And then he gets right up in mine. “How many times do I have to fucking tell you to stay in your place?” he growls.

“Maybe this all wouldn’t be happening if you were a nice person. Just a thought. Oh, and you have an interview at 3 tomorrow.” I start to walk away, but Jamie grabs the back of my shirt.

“I could make your life really miserable around here if I wanted to,” Jamie says.

“Sure, gum-face. Sure,” I say. I leave him seething behind me.

This morning I get an email that I have to be in the interview room 25 minutes earlier to “prep Jamie on talking points.”

When I pull open the door of the interview room, I’m showered from head to toe with whipped cream from a bucket hanging over the door. When I wipe my eyes, I see Jamie with a big bucket in his hand.

“You did this,” I spew.

He shrugs. “I thought you needed a makeover,” he says, emptying the bucket’s contents over my head. Which turn out to be feathers. Many, multicolored feathers that because of the whipped cream, stick everywhere. My hair, my face, and all over my body.

“Jamie!” I shriek furiously while he just looks smug. “Are you out of your mind?”

“What?” He feigns innocence. “I thought Americans liked this.”

“Okay, Jamie, what is your problem with me?” I demand. “Is it because I’m the only person ever to stand up to you?”

“You think you can talk to me and treat me however you want. You tried to embarrass me in front of my teammates today. You need to get it through your thick skull that you’re just some lowly American intern, and I’m the star player. You don’t tell me what to do.”

“You are so arrogant,” I say. “It’s no wonder your teammates don’t like you.”

“Think I give a shit?” Jamie scoffs. “They all know I’m the best.” He smirks. “And so will that reporter coming.”

My eyes widen. “Oh yeah, the reporter’s coming. Jamie, I guarantee you’ll blow them away.”

He looks confused at this, and I use this moment to tackle him to the floor. “What the fuck?” he demands angrily. Whipped cream is seeping into his jeans and shirt, and some of my feathers are transferring onto his clothes.

“Well, Jamie, karma’s a bitch, and she’s with you right now,” I say.

He glares at me. “You stupid twat. You ruined my outfit for my interview!”

“You ruined mine first!” I shoot back. “Like you say, you’re so much more important than me. Maybe you’ll make this look the new trend.”

“Piss off,” Jamie says, his eyes blazing.

“You ensured that I would get embarrassed on the Tube today. Thought I’d return the favor,” I spit.

“This is a national magazine,” Jamie says through clenched teeth. “It’s not the same and you know it. I’ll get you back for this.”

I scowl. “As if this prank wasn’t entirely your fault. But fine. You want a war? You’ve got one.”

A/N: Hi guys!!! I wrote this after getting super pissed off (in a good way) after reading a snippet of another Jamie Tartt fanfic on here, so I used like 3 lines from there to inspire this story and put my own unique spin on it. Also yes I had Y/N quote that song Jojo Siwa made famous and Brit Smith ~bodied~. She's such a girlboss, and I love seeing her put Jamie in his place. I also love writing slow burns!!

#jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #enemies to lovers

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vinylsbygi · 2 years

Text

blanket, bath and bed

a/n : hello! so, due to everything that's happening at the moment, I needed some comfort so, part two of soup, sniffles and sleep!

warnings : sick!eddie, bad memories, sickness, talk of abuse

Moving around, his hair in your face, Eddie finally wakes up, with you in his arms. When the hell did you get there? It’s not that he’s complaining, though. It feels nice to finally have someone who’s going to stay, no matter what. And as your eyes start to open, he couldn’t be more than happy that you’re that someone.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Mm, hi Eddie” you say. You still want to stay in bed, to feel safe in his arms, but then you remember he’s sick. With that thought, you get up, blanket falling on the floor, pulling Eddie to follow you, but clingy Eddie he is, that won’t be easy.

And after what felt like an hour of explaining to him that he has to get up and eat something, he finally does. When he was sitting at the table, soup in front of him, he decided that he wasn’t hungry. But after your “either you eat that soup or I tell Wayne what you did in History the other day”, he didn’t want to risk anything.

“Okay, Eds, c’mere” you say. When he leans over, he definitely wasn’t prepared for your sudden touch, and he can feel blood running to his cheeks. How could he not? You were lovely, beautiful and smart and he adored you. But he knew you didn’t feel the same way. Yes, of course you cared about him, if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here right now. But you didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. And that was alright. He got over it a long time ago.

“Holy. You’re burning. Finish that soup, Eddie, and get in the bath. Cold water. I’m gonna go and try to get your room at least in some order. Okay? And keep boxers on, I don’t want to see anything.”

“Oh, you sure about that, sweetheart? You could bless your eyes” he said, smirking to you. After you shot him a death glare, he simply just smiled. “I’m just kidding. As you wish, ma’am.”

It was crazy how many random stuff Eddie had on his floor. From school books, to bottles of beer, from a bunch of cigarettes to sun glasses. Were those someone’s panties? Oh. Ew, you thought to yourself, using a pencil you also found on the floor, to carefully pick it up and throw it into the trash bin.

Then there was his mattress. Taking the sheets off was disgusting, but the fact that you were laying there forty minutes ago made you want to throw up. Eddie probably hasn't washed those since last year.

Bringing those down to put them in the laundry basket, you could hear Eddie in the bathroom. Hopefully he didn’t take boxers off, you thought to yourself, as you entered the bathroom.

“Well, hello there. You decided that your eyes needed some blessings, darling?” he said from the bath. But you don’t answer, because steam is rising from the bath. Steam doesn’t rise from cold water.

Walking to him, he smiles, but when you feel the water and, again, give him a death glare, he’s just confused.

“What? Is everything alright?”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Eddie? I said cold water. Cold water is supposed to stop you from being cooked alive since you’re burning so much. Doesn’t that make any simple sense to you?” oh no. You were angry. He really, really didn’t need you to be angry. Especially right now. And you were really angry. It was visible from the way you told him to get out, the way you let water go and waited for cold water to fill the tub.

“Sorry.” he tried.

“Nope, not working. Get in.”

“But it’s cold.” and that was the moment he knew he wasn’t supposed to say that.

“Really? I thought warm water helped get your temperature down. Get. In. “

And he finally did. When he did, on the other hand, he silently screamed.

"Oh don't go all dramatic on me now. If you got in the cold water from the beginning you would already be in your bed." you said. But you didn't have the energy to be mad at him, especially now that he's sick.

So, instead of still being angry, you decided to sit on the floor, looking at his back. He had a beautiful back, and you loved hugging him from behind. But right now, being so close to him, you couldn't help but notice something different this time. You couldn't figure out what, so you took some water from the bath and soap, and rubbed his back. At some point he started singing Stand by me. And even though he was full on metal and hard rock, he found something beautiful in every single song you ever considered your favourite.But your smile disappeared when you saw a scar on his back. It wasn’t just a scar you can get because you hit your back on the edge of the window or you accidentally fell on your pen. It was, it looked like it was there on purpose.

Eddie somehow felt that you saw it, because his whole body went numb.

"That one was by my father." he started. But you cared about him way too much to make him feel uncomfortable in any way.

"Eds, you don't have to say anything if you do-"

"It's okay. To be honest with you I've been dying to finally let it out." he gave you a weak smile. Then he continued.

"It was the last time I saw him. He was drunk. He came home and had a knife in his hand. I didn't ask anything, hell, I was already scared of him. But he was angry and kept yelling about something. I don't remember what. That night is a bit cloudy. He raised his hand, knife got me. I remember laying on the floor, not sure if I should run or scream or something. But then police stormed in. Glad they did. I woke up in the hospital, Wayne sitting next to me." he finished the story. By now, you were looking at him, tears slowly streaming down his face. When he looked up at you, your heart broke, and you couldn't handle it anymore.

And even though water in the tub was cold, you still got in, took him in his arms and stayed there for all the time he needed.

After that, he went back to bed. It felt good to sleep on new sheets, but when you joined him after fifteen minutes, he was home.

#fictional men #fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #stranger things volume 2 #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x reader

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the1975attheirverybest · 1 year

Text

A Brief History of Time

A/N: sorry this request took a minute. My mental health as been trash lately and I feel like it’s starting to affect my writing. Hope this can still bring a smile to your faces though. Or at least make the person who requested it happy. Let me know what you think!

Warnings: none.

—-

“When I said I wanted to go for a walk, I didn’t realize it was gonna be raining.” She groaned, using her purse as a makeshift rain hat to protect herself from the rain.

“What, you call this rain? That’s not real rain. We’re in Manchester, baby.” Matty smiled, looking up at the sky as raindrops landed in his hair.

“What else would I call it?”

“Spitting.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“Is that a Manchester thing?”

“Could be? I think it’s just an England thing to be honest.” He shrugged, watching her frown with every raindrop that landed on her clothes. “Alright, alright, you big baby. let’s find you an umbrella.”

***

“This was their last one.” Matty called out as he emerged out of the store. “You got really lucky- allow me.” He opened the umbrella for her, sticking his arm out, and gesturing for her to get underneath it. “M’lady.” She hopped closer to it, relieved at the shelter it provided. Matty held the umbrella up for her while she wrapped her fingers around his arm, huddling in to share in the cover with him.

“All better now?” He smiled down at her.

“Mhm.” She reached up, kissing his lips as a gesture of gratitude. “You know what would be even better, though?”

“What, my love?”

“If we could stop at that Starbucks over there. I think a coffee might be nice.”

“You want a coffee? Alright. But we’re absolutely NOT going into a Starbucks. I know a better place.”

“It’s gonna be really far away, isn’t it?”

Matty said nothing, simply smiling as he sprinted down the street, causing her to giggle and speed up to keep up with him.

***

“Oh, hey, look. It’s The Deaf Institute.” Matty stopped in his tracks abruptly, pointing at the building. A smile crept its way onto his face as he walked closer to the front door, leaning in to take a peak through the glass.

She couldn’t help but smile as well as she watched him visibly light up at the sight of the place whispering exclamations to himself.

“It’s where we had our first proper 1975 show, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…like, just when we were starting to attract attention. We played here and it fucking blew my mind that people knew the lyrics to ‘The City.’” Matty’s eyes twinkled with pride as he recalled the night, a decade ago. He couldn’t believe how quickly his whole life had changed.

“Hey, let’s go in there.” She whispered in his ear, as if sharing a secret plan.

“I thought you wanted a coffee…”

“Just a quick look around. I wanna see!”

“Alright, then.” Matty held the door open for her. “After you.”

“You’re such a gentleman.” She teased.

The place bustled with energy. The warm orange -red lights giving everything a golden glow. The space was by no means huge, but it was definitely packed. The walls lined with promotional posters of upcoming events. Some announced comedy shows, others were for bands and up and coming artists. She found herself imaging a 24 year old Matty, excitedly bouncing around the place. The image made her heart flutter with joy.

“I mean, at the time, the place felt enormous to us. We didn’t even have that many songs yet, I can’t believe we managed to put together a set list.” He laughed. “Oh my god. Look how low the stage is. In my mind, I was way above the crowd. This can’t be more than a few inches.” He giggled at the power of his memory to exaggerate the details of such a concrete moment.

An idea popped into her head. She pulled her phone out, typing “the 1975 the deaf institute,” into the search engine. “Oh my god, look! It’s on YouTube!” She held her phone up to his face, watching as he chuckled dramatically. “Look at my fuckin hair. What a wanker!” He shook his head.

“Hey, Matty? I have an idea. Go stand over there. I wanna take a picture of you. Re-create this original moment.”

“Babe-“

“Nope. I’m not taking no for an answer. Go!”

Begrudgingly, Matty did as she said, standing in the same corner that he clung to 10 years ago, smiling at her.

“Iconic! I’m making that my phone background.” She announced, proud of herself for having made him do it.

Within moments, a group of friends at the bar had recognized him and walked over to say hello.

She stood a short distance away, watching, and brimming with pride as he shook the fans’ hands and posed for pictures with them.

“Thank you. Nice to meet you!” He waved at them on the way out, flinging his arm around her and getting ready to open his umbrella again.

The rain had picked up when they stepped back out onto the street. It was definitely no longer just ‘spitting.’

“We’re having our afterparty at The Deaf Institute, you know? Like after our Manchester show.” Matty informed her as the building began to disappear behind them.

The pitter-patter of the rain against their umbrella was too loud for them to hold a conversation. They walked side by side, in silence, Matty occasionally pulling her to him and kissing her forehead.

“What- the- fu-“ Matty’s face dropped, pausing at the sidewalk.

“What? What is it, baby?”

“This- this was supposed to be the coffee shop.”

She looked around, confused. “Where?”

“Exactly! It’s gone! This- here!” He pointed to a partially demolished building. “This is where George and I would come get a coffee sometimes. Adam and Ross hated it. I mean, they’re right, it was shit, but it was all we could afford when we were kids, so- I can’t believe it’s gone!”

“I hate to interrupt your nostalgic grief, but umm, you were purposefully bringing me to a shitty coffee place?”

Matty smiled, his reminiscent bubble popping instantly. He shook his head. “It’s shit in a good way. You know when somethings so bad that it’s actually kinda good?”

“Nope. No, sorry, I do not.” The coffee snob in her finding his logic unacceptable.

He chuckled, taking her hand in his and resuming their walk once again. “C’mon. Let’s keep walking. We’ll find something eventually.”

***

“Do you like Manchester?” He looked down at her face. The rain had finally stopped, so he closed the umbrella, using his now free arm to keep her close to him as they walked on.

“You know what? I think I do, actually. Plus, you seem to love it, and I like seeing you so happy.”

“Think I’d like to raise my kids here.” Matty blurted out, unthinkingly.

“You-you think about having kids?”

“Yeah, I mean….you know. Someday. Don’t you?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, me too. I guess I just didn’t realize you were thinking about stuff like this- like, where you’d raise them.”

“Can’t help it. When I’m here, it’s kind of all I want.”

She felt a warm and fuzzy tingle in her stomach at the thought of Matty raising his kids in the place that had brought him up. She thought it was sweet that he’d considered something like that.

Matty had seen something that made him stop right away. She hadn’t realized it until she felt his arm pull her back like an anchor, and when she turned around to see what he was looking at, she noticed the posters herself.

“Wow…record shop?”

“No, it’s a club actually.”

“Look! The Arctic Monkeys.” She giggled, pointing to the poster, having noticed that The 1975’s own ILWYS poster was hanging just a few rows below.

“You think you’re teasing me, but I’m genuinely an Arctic Monkeys fan so, I don’t mind.” Matty laughed.

“Yeah, you’re probably the only person who doesn’t hate their new album.”

“Hey! No slagging off my boy, Alex.”

“Did you just…call Alex Turner ‘your boy’ ?” She shook her head.

“Don’t care what Twitter says. He and I get on and I think their song ‘Perfect Sense,’ is fucking mint.”

“Alright, well, we’ve been walking for like an hour and I still don’t have coffee. Can we please go to Starbucks now?”

***

They sat on the bench by the river, sipping their coffee and enjoying watching the birds land and dip into the water for a drink.

When Matty turned to look into her eyes, he noticed that she was shivering. Quietly, he took off his long, black coat and wrapped it around her, laughing to himself at the sight of her being swallowed whole by the fabric.

“Thank you, babe.” She kissed his hand.“Where’d you get this coat, anyway?”

“Stole it off the wardrobe department. Patricia found it for a photo shoot, but I liked it too much to let it go, so…”

“So, I’m wrapped up in stolen goods is what you’re telling me.”

“But doesn’t the fabric feel really nice, though?”

“I….can’t lie, it does.” She conceded, closing her eyes and enjoying the whiff of Matty’s cologne that flooded her senses when a gust of air rattled the coat around her body.

“If you’re too cold, we could just go home.”

“No, please. I’m having the best afternoon. Let’s stay for a little while.”

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analogwriting · 3 months

Text

Childhood Crush

Chapter 17: Silicon

Killer x gn!reader word count: 3.4k a/n: figured i'd give you some up before we get to the real downs next

After your little confrontation with Killer, if you can even call it that, you decided to see what you could find out about the SMILE fruit that you could. You did find out that Kaido was getting it from the warlord Donquixote Doflamingo who had someone named Caesar the Clown making it. Though, in your research, you found out that someone else had been somewhat wrapped up in things. At least he was there when things went belly up in Punk Hazard.

Trafalgar Law.

Luckily, everyone was on the same port as the ships were being repaired and prepared for departures. Everyone around the same area meant it was going to be easier for you to slip away for a few moments to try and talk to him. You knew your brother absolutely loathed the guy and everyone else would just raise an eyebrow on why you might want to strike up a conversation with him. And if you wanted to be incognito about your whole plan then…

You spotted him leaning against some rock somewhat on the edge of all the commotion, so no one would probably pay attention to the both of you as long as neither of you brought attention to yourselves. You headed that way, plopping down next to him. He looked at you with a confused expression.

“The hell you want Eustass 2.0?”

You could suddenly see why your brother hated him. What a warm, stand up guy. Though, his whole personality was surrounded by the idea of death - so you guess it checked out. You glared at him. “First of all, I’m the older sibling, so if anything he’d be y/n 2.0.” Law stared at you in disbelief.

“You two are related? So there really are two of him?”

“Oh my fuck, just fuck off with that. Anyway.” You shook your head, you were here for a reason. You weren’t about to let your annoyance get to you over some petty comments.

“I need to know everything you know about the SMILE fruit.” You looked at him and his expression changed to a more serious one.

“And why would I tell you anything?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

He seemed to pause at that retort. “Because I don’t have to.”

Your face changed to that of a deadpanned one. Nice to know his trash talk was garbage. “Wow. King of comebacks, you are, huh?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re not making me want to help you, you know.”

With a roll of your eyes and a sigh, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Well, whether or not you tell me the information doesn’t actually matter. I just thought I could start with some kind of foundation.”

“What are you getting on about?”

You looked at him once more. “Since no one else seems wants to fucking do anything about it, I’m going to be trying to cure the SMILE fruit.”

“And you need my help? What could I do?”

“I don’t need your help, I just need to know what you learned on Punk Hazard.”

He stared at you for a moment and you could feel your irritation growing. This man was impossible. You absolutely saw why your brother was always irritated by his mere presence. With a sigh of irritation, you stood up and dusted yourself off.

“You know what? Forget I asked. I just wanted to help someone I fucking care about but I should’ve know better than to fucking ask for help.” You casted a glance across the port to Killer who was talking to Dive at the moment before starting to head in that direction.

“Wait!” You stopped, honestly surprised. You turned around to look at the pirate lounging on the rock. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I know. But I’m only going to say it once, so listen close.”

A smile spread across your face. “Thank you, Trafalgar. I owe you.”

After that irritating interaction with the other pirate captain, he did provide some pretty useful information to you. You wouldn’t exactly be starting at ground zero, so at least that helped. You headed back over to your own crew, feeling a bit lighter.

“Y/n!” Dive ran over to you, looking up at you. “Did you hear about the bounty update?” You shook your head. She held up the paper with your brother’s face on it and your eyes widened. “Fucking what now?” You took the paper, looking at it closer.

“Just cause you hold it closer to your face, doesn’t mean the number’s gonna change.” You glared at Killer before you looked around. “Wait, where’s Tungsten?”

“Well, after the bounty reveal…” You looked at Killer and groaned. “Yeah. Probably gonna pick a fight.” You made a face. “I should probably go and stop him,” you grumbled. Killer laughed and you started trudging your way to the Flower Capital as the other followed you. There was supposed to be some kind of feast anyway.

“Tungsten! Get your ass down here!”

Eustass looked down at you from where he was…being held? by Luffy. You assumed your brother tried to attack him and Luffy took it as a celebration of some sort. You haven’t known him long, but you could already tell that this Strawhat was quite the character.

You placed your hands on your hips as you looked up at your brother. “Fuck off, Bigs! You don’t tell me what to do!” He was shouting at you from up above and you groaned.

“We’re not going to start another war here in Wano. Wait until y’all leave then sort out whatever beef you have!”

“There’s no time like the present! If I take him down now-”

As the two of you argued loud enough for just about everyone to hear, Law was watching the interaction. The person you were when you were with your brother was completely different from the one who had a conversation with him earlier. “Are they always like this?”

“Yeah, actually.” Killer laughed. “It’s weird if they’re not.”

“Isn’t it a headache?”

He shook his head. “You kind of start to miss it when one of them is gone and presumed dead,” Killer said with a shrug. Law just looked at him, about to ask what in the hell that cryptic statement meant when the other moved forward and threw you over his shoulder as he always did to diffuse the situation.

“Killer!” You groaned, not even bothering to fight it, as your brother cackled - the situation diffusing as it always does. At least he stopped trying to fight Luffy and the lot of you could enjoy the festivities now.

When the festivities began, it was a whole entire different atmosphere. There were no enemies here, only allies. The three pirate crews, the citizens of Wano, everyone was intermingling. It was truly peaceful and light hearted. You were going to enjoy it while it lasted because you had a long journey ahead of you.

The night dragged on and you felt yourself growing tired. You were sitting in between Killer and your brother when Dive popped up next to you. Her pigtails looked worse for wear and she looked at you with urgency. “Will you fix my hair?!” You blinked.

“Sure?” She was more than capable of fixing her own hair, but you also weren’t sure why she cared. She wasn’t exactly one to care about her appearance. She plopped into your lap. “Heat got rice and stuff in it!” She folded her arms with a pout.

She handed you a brush that she said she acquired from someone, but you didn’t exactly question it. You took out her hair, picking out the food. You used the water you had to wash out whatever sticky shit had also ended up in her hair.

As you did her hair, she idly talked about whatever was on her mind and you heard Killer laugh from next to you. You looked at him. “What?” He shook his head. “I’m assuming you gained a more domestic side while you were gone?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“What do you mean by that?”

He stuck up his hands. “You just seem more soft around the edges - not a bad thing.”

“Well, I grew up around you guys. Then I was on an island of scientists for, like, two years. Much less rowdy. Plus, Lily always liked it when I did her hair.” As you were brushing Dive’s hair, your heart hurt. Your mind shifted to what Kese had said. You still couldn’t believe Myra had deceived you in such a way. Your mind still couldn’t wrap around it.

You did find yourself missing Lily though. She was a breath of fresh air. You’d brush her hair like this before bed every night.

Before your thoughts could delve any further down that spiral, you felt a hand on your thigh. You looked over, seeing Killer looking towards you. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t mean anything by it.” Though, your face was growing more and more red by the second.

“I think she just wanted to spend some time with you before you left,” he mumbled so Dive couldn’t hear what he said. You looked at him before looking to Dive. It made sense. She seemed to have missed you a lot.

One deep breath later, you focused on Dive’s hair and whatever she was prattling on about, trying not to think too much about the hand that currently wasn’t leaving your thigh.

And it didn’t.

As the night droned on, Dive eventually fell asleep against you. Killer’s hand never left your thigh, or if it did, it returned back to it. You were at a table, so no one else noticed, but you were painfully aware of it. You were flustered, but you also felt incredibly at ease at the same time. It didn’t matter if the two of you were talking to each other or someone else, he was always keeping contact with you.

You almost regretted deciding to stay, but you knew this was important. This was for him. Whatever feelings were happening and whatever the hell this was - you could figure that out when you met up again. You were going to enjoy it while it lasted though.

You weren’t exactly sure when you fell asleep, but you woke up back on the ship with Dive curled into your side. How did you end up back here? Did your brother carry you back? The events of last night flooded your brain, mostly the hand that never left you last night. Did Killer carry you back then? What was all that about? You had a feeling you weren’t going to be able to get any answers today.

You pushed those thoughts away. Today was departure day. Eustass was to set sail and you were to migrate to your new lab. You had spoken with Momonosuke about everything and he seemed more than willing to let you help his people - even told you he’d give you anything you needed to succeed. You appreciated that.

The morning was pretty busy. You were helping your brother ready the ship for departure as well as everyone saying their goodbyes to you. It was pretty emotional, but you guess that the last time you left, they thought you had died while you were gone, so the hesitation and emotions all made sense.

When it was time to go, there was a group hug that took place. You were nearly crushed by everyone, but you were accepting of a fate like that. At least you were surrounded by endless love if you died that way.

Everyone dispersed to head back onto the ship. Eustass stayed behind for a moment. You knew he was hesitant to leave you behind. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you talking to Trafalgar yesterday,” he grumbled, looking annoyed. You looked at him and rolled your eyes.

“I was trying to get information about the SMILE fruit. He was on Punk Hazard for some months before Strawhat and he took it down.”

That changed your brother’s tune a little. “Oh.”

“What do you mean ‘oh’? Why the fuck else would I talk to that dickhead?”

Eustass snorted and shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s why I was asking. So you don’t like him either?”

You shrugged. “He’s got that air of arrogance about him. Made me want to punch him in the nose. But I do appreciate the information he gave me.” You smirked, causing your brother to laugh.

“That’s my Bigs.” He wrapped his arm around you and the both of you looked at the ship.

“Make sure you don’t die, yeah?” Eustass’ voice was soft. You looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I should be telling you that.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. He just shrugged, shaking his head. “I can’t die now. Not when we’re so close to getting to the One Piece.”

“Well, I’ll find you as soon as I develop a cure, okay? So, don’t do anything fucking stupid, okay?”

“Me? Stupid? Never.”

“Says the one that thought it was a good idea to fight Shanks.” You glared at him and he just narrowed his eyes at you. “I could totally take him.”

“You lost an arm!”

“And?!”

“What makes you think you’ll beat him the next time!?!”

“Because I can!”

“Oh my fuck, Tungsten, please.”

The two of you delve into more laughter and before sighing. “Suppose until next time, Bigs.”

“Until next time, Tungsten.” Then he paused, turning to you. “Did Killer talk to you?” You blinked, tilting your head to the side. “About what?”

He shook his head. “I take that as a no then.”

With that, he boarded his ship. “Wait! Tungsten! You can’t-” But he wasn’t listening. You watched as he approached Killer, asking him something. You blinked as he proceeded to smack Killer upside the head and start yelling at him while Killer just sheepishly rubbed his neck. What was that about? What did he apparently want to talk to you about? Or supposed to talk to you about? Great. Just another unanswered question.

You weren’t able to dwell on it long before the rest of the crew were yelling goodbye to you once more and you waved, shouting your own send offs. Then you paused. “Are they just…”

Your stupid fucking brother.

“Are they just going to launch themselves over the mountain?” Then you watched them do just that - much to your dismay.

Settling into your new lab wasn’t too difficult. You didn’t have too many things, as most of it had still been on the island in which you had lived for a couple of years. You never got that stuff back and now you supposed you never would. Which sucked because you did have some stuff in there that would probably help with what you were dealing with now.

You started making new notes, first writing down everything Law had told you. You were lucky you had an amazing memory - you didn’t forget a single thing he had mentioned.

You heard something clatter behind you and you turned around, seeing a small child standing there. “Oh, sorry!” She picked up the book she had knocked over and held it up. “My name is Toko! I am not sure if you remember me though.”

You blinked, taken aback. You remembered her, yes. But, you hadn’t noticed before because of the whole, defending them from Killer thing - she seemed to be affected by the fruit too. You could tell with the unnatural curl the edges of her smile had.

“Nice to meet you, Toko,” you said, walking over to her and taking the book. You knelt down to meet her on her level. “I’m y/n.”

“Is it true you’re trying to find a cure for the SMILE fruit?” You blinked. Were they just telling everyone? “I overheard Hiyori talking about it.” Ah, that made sense.

You smiled, ruffling her hair. “It’s true. I’m going to try my best to help you and everyone else who was affected, okay?” You saw her eyes light up. “Really?!” You nodded and she threw her arms around you. “Oh thank you!”

You awkwardly patted her back, your heart aching. Talk about pressure. You already had the weight of your brother’s disappointment looming over your shoulders, now this small child? Well, there was also just the shogun and whomever that guy told. Ugh, there was more pressure building by the minute.

“Toko! You shouldn’t be bothering them. I am so sorry, doctor.” Hiyori appeared in the doorway. You looked at her and shook your head with a smile. “It’s quite alright. She just seems curious.”

“Also, thank you for rescuing us!” Toko looked at you, her smile reaching her eyes. When dealing with people affected by the fruit, you tend to focus on their eyes more. That’s how you gauged their real emotion. You were just luckily Killer had always really worn a helmet so you could just read his entire being.

You blinked. “Oh, uh…you’re welcome?” Hiyori laughed softly. “Humble, I see.” You looked at her. You almost wanted to apologize on Killer’s behalf, but you also felt it was probably best they just never knew that little tidbit of information.

With the energy of Toko and the calm nature of Hiyori, they really did remind you of Myra and Lily. Your chest aches at the thought of them. You missed Lily, but you knew that you’d never see her again. And when you thought of Myra you just…hurt. All that love turned to pain.

“Well, we’ll leave you be. Let us know if you need anything. Come along, Toko.” You nodded, waving as they left.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. When you exhaled, you opened your eyes again and went back to your notes.

The first few weeks of your time at Wano, post-battle, was spent cooped up in the lab. You were trying to figure things out. You were gathering as much information as you could about the stupid fruits before you tried experimenting with them. You slept in the lab most nights - mainly because you’d work so long you’d just pass out at your desk.

Toko visited almost daily. She just enjoyed chatting with you, mostly talking about nothing. You always enjoyed the background noise of people talking. She’d bring you snacks and such. It was nice to have at least some kind of distraction every once and a while. Hiyori would sometimes join her in the visits. They were both incredibly sweet and a welcomed breath of fresh air from your stuffy lab.

“Doctor y/n?” You turned, smiling at Toko. “C’mon, I told you that you didn’t have to call me doctor, Toko.”

“I know, but I like the way it rolls off the tongue.” She laughed and you smiled. “Alright. So, what’s up? How can I help you today?”

Whenever she visited, you always paused what you were doing to fully turn your attention to her. If you ever were doing something where you couldn’t be interrupted, you’d just lock the door.

“There is someone here for you. They said that you know them but we wanted to come and check first!” You blinked, tilting your head to the side. Who the hell could possibly be visiting you? You knew there was no way in hell Eustass would be here. Or anyone else from your crew.

“Who is it?”

The look in Toko’s eyes fell. “Oh, I forgot already. Toko sorry.”

You walked over, ruffling her hair. “Oh, don’t apologize. There’s nothing wrong with forgetting. Let’s go take a look together, hm?”

Her eyes brightened once more as she took your hand and walked with you to the front of the building. You walked with her when you heard a familiar voice talking with the guard that stayed stationed at the front. You immediately stopped in your tracks. “Y/n?” Toko asked, looking back at you.

Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped as your eyes fell on your ‘guest.’

Myra.

#once again pulled something out of my ass #i wasnt originally gonna have myra come in but ive been feeling extra angsty so i need to take my anger out on her a lil bit #im about to harrass yalls eyeballs with lyrics tho and yall are gonna be none the wiser - there was one in this chap tho #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #massacre soldier killer #killer x reader #killer one piece #am fics #cc

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vaporwavebeach-writes · 2 months

Text

PoisonCat (Valentine’s Day Exchange)

Pamela (Poison Ivy) Isley x Selina (Catwoman) Kyle

(1,055 words)

Summary: Ivy discovers she really likes to be called “Doctor”

Warnings/Tags: 18+ (not quite smut, but it gets reallll suggestive), botched heist, patching up wounds, friends with benefits (they are definitely gay LMAO), light medical play, discovering a new kink, make outs, getting real sensual with it

Notes: Surprise @acapelladitty!!! I was ur gifter for the exchange!!! I’ve never written for Poisoncat before, but after doing a bunch of research for them, I now love them (I mean, I already did before but you get it LMAO). I wanted to let you know that you are a huge inspo to me and I’ve really enjoyed all the times we’ve cooked up some wild shit 😭😭 Happy Valentine’s Day!!!

It wasn’t often that a heist went awry for Selina, but this time was sure to take the cake. Triggered security systems and broken glass were the least of her problems, now having to face the consequences of working with Edward Nygma. Mentally, Selina beat herself up for knowing better than to work with a conniving snake like him, but that didn’t matter now. The loud blaring of sirens could be heard in the distance as she lept from rooftop to rooftop with ease. Continuing to escape deeper into the night, Selina knew exactly where to run to.

Far enough away from the scene of the crime, Selina found herself perched on top of the overgrown warehouse. Thick branches and moss covered the outside, making the building look abandoned. Nobody would even think that a place such as this would be an ideal hideout, but for Selina, it was a refuge. A sanctuary. The home of an old friend.

Climbing through the window, Selina’s entrance was almost anticipated as Ivy watched her come in expectantly.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Ivy grinned.

“Nice to see you too, Pam.” Selina leaned against the wall, out of breath. “How did you…?”

“Word gets around fast,” Ivy shrugged. “Plus, all the cop cars woke me up.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I was up anyway.” Ivy made her way over to Selina. Pulling up her mask, Ivy inspected the small cuts and bits of glass occupying Selina’s face and body. Her face was streaked with blood and sweat. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? You look like hell.”

“Yeah,” Selina snickered. “I just got back.”

———

Selina was seated on top of the table. Her tight, black suit was cast aside, leaving her in an undershirt, her underwear, and several small bandages. Around her was a bowl of discarded glass and a small trash can of bloodied gauze.

Ivy made her way in between Selina’s legs, standing in front of her. She applied the disinfectant carefully. Selina winced at the sudden sting, but Ivy took a gentle hand in the application. The gaze in Ivy’s eyes was soft. It was easy for Selina to get lost in them.

“You’re staring again.” Ivy spoke up faintly.

“Am I? Purred Selina. “You’re so close to me, must be your pheromones.” She giggled. “Or blood loss.”

Ivy chuckled playfully. “First of all, my little flower,” she pushed a bit of Selina’s short hair off her face. “You haven’t lost nearly enough blood for delirium.” Ivy set down the disinfect. Her arms soothed their way up to Selina’s shoulders. “As for the pheromones?” Ivy’s hands cradled the area between Selina’s jaw and neck. “They only amplify what’s already there.”

Selina glanced down and back up again, soft laughter escaping her lips. “Whatever you say, Dr. Isley.”

There was a pause from Ivy. It was as if a switch went off. Cocking her head in consideration, she asked Selina to repeat what she had said.

“Whatever you say… Dr. Isley.” Selina repeated.

Ivy’s green complexion flushed. Selina’s forwardness was always welcome in their interactions. Having Selina in her current position would more often than not signal that they were going to have sex on a night like this. It seemed to be going that way thus far. It was the use of Ivy’s professional title being used in such a flirtatious manner that stopped her dead in her tracks. It fired her up, far more than usual, and Selina could see it from a mile away.

“Y’know…” Selina swiftly wrapped a leg around Ivy’s body, pulling her in closer. “I still feel a little hurt from the glass, I think I might need a more thorough examination, what do you think… Doctor?”

Their faces are just inches apart. Ivy scans Selina’s face. Selina’s dark, pleading eyes sparkled with mischief. Ivy always enjoyed the little dynamic they had. Usually she would be the one to initiate anything. A few whispers of filthy nothings, controlling some stray vines to gently twist around her thighs, and a kiss to the neck and Selina would be a goner. However, tonight was not one of those nights. Selina was pushing Ivy’s buttons and they both fucking loved it.

“Well, I may not be a doctor in a medical sense,” Ivy cleared the table, getting up behind her. “But in my professional opinion,” she continued as her hands reached Selina’s sides, pulling the cat burglar closer to her. Ivy’s hands wandered up to trail over Selina’s breasts. Ivy could hear Selina’s breath hitch, and decided to push forward. “Maybe if you’re in that much pain…” Ivy whispers as Selina can feel her breath tickle her ear. “… I think some bed rest is in order.”

Selina turns her head around and presses her lips to Ivy’s. What first started as small pecks soon evolved into a tender kiss. Ivy could feel Selina snake a hand through her red curls; her nails gently scratching her scalp. Ivy let out a soft sigh as Selina pulled away for a moment. She fully moved herself around to face Ivy completely, before straddling her thigh and returning the the kiss. Selina let out a low moan as Ivy playfully bucked her up her thigh. With a coquettish chuckle, Ivy’s hands trailed down to Selina’s ass before gently nipping at her bottom lip.

“Fucking tease,” Selina grinned. “Who knew that the illustrious Dr. Isley could be so salacious?”

Ivy hummed before quickly hoisting Selina off her thigh and off the table. “Then I’d suggest we take this appointment to the bedroom,” Ivy wraps an arm around Selina’s shoulder. “I do have a reputation to uphold you know.”

“Oh please do,” Selina’s hungry gaze caught Ivy’s as they made their way into the bedroom. “I would so love to see that reputation in action.”

Ivy lowered Selina onto the bed, hands caressing her thighs as she sunk down, kneeling in between her legs. Selina shuddered at the sudden sensation of Ivy’s nails gently dragging across her thighs. It was one of her weak spots that Ivy loved to exploit.

Ivy batted her eyes puckishly up at the mewling Selina. “Don’t worry my dear,” Ivy placed a kiss on Selina’s inner thigh. “I know just the thing to make you feel all better.”

#poisoncat #selina kyle x pamela isley #catwoman x poison ivy #batman rogues smut #poison ivy smut #catwoman smut #pamela isley smut #selina kyle smut #mia writes batman!!!#mia writes

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punsmaster69 · 4 months

Text

22/DEC/20XX

"NOOO!!"

"Who did this."

(they definitely said it as a period.)

frisk's cookie was ruined in red sprinkles. the sprinkle container's lid sat in the middle.

"Really? You know EXACTLY who would do that."

flowey made a very non-discreet leaf-point towards me.

"whaat?"

"i would never."

"can't believe you would even accuse me of such a thing."

"You already ruined one of mine with that, of course it's you!"

going to put sprinkles over my own splotchily iced cookie, it suddenly twinned theirs, but in cyan.

"whoops."

i plucked the lid of the sprinkle container out of the icing and set it aside.

it stuck to the tablecloth.

"What's the matter? Got a taste of your own medicine, trash bag? How's it taste?"

"dunno. haven't tried the cookie yet."

his smug face dropped.

"That's not what I meant, idiot."

"i know."

"Do you?"

"nope."

"Why did you say you did?"

"because i do."

"You JUST said you don't."

"i don't."

"Do you do or do you don't?!"

"what? that's too much doing."

"let's start over."

"Wh- NO! We're not doing that!"

"i know."

"You don't!"

"i do."

"You don't!!"

"Will you two cut that out already?! It's like listening to two parrots!"

for once, flowey agreed with undyne.

——

"SANS. LOOK!"

"wow."

"...is it you?"

"OBVIOUSLY. WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE, WITH SUCH A DASHING RED SCARF?"

"i see it now."

"very cool, bro."

"WHAT DID YOU MAKE?"

"this. my magnum opus."

"THIS IS A BLANK COOKIE."

"two blank cookies."

"STUCK TOGETHER...?"

"sugar cookie sandwich."

"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DECORATE THEM, NOT STICK TWO TOGETHER AND CALL IT A DAY!"

"you're right."

"should have been three."

"I'M NOT SAYING TO ADD 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘."

"if i add less, they won't be a sandwich anymore."

"WHY DO YOU WANT THEM TO BE A SANDWICH AT ALL?"

"because i can decorate two for the price of one."

"YOU DIDN'T DECORATE EITHER ONE."

"yeah, it was a steal. decorated zero for the price of two."

"IS THIS ALL YOU'VE DONE??"

"no."

pointing to the cyan mess.

"there's that one."

"DID YOU EVEN ADD ANYTHING TO ONE OF THE GINGERBREAD HOUSES?"

"i added a peppermint."

"𝘈 PEPPERMINT."

"a peppermint and two gumdrops."

"....WELL. IT'S MORE THAN LAST YEAR."

"PROGRESS!"

"Are your standards for what is 'progress' not a bit low..?"

"THEY HAVE TO BE WHEN IT COMES TO HIM."

"you know me; seeing how low the the bar is and still barely tripping on it."

"WHAT DID YOU MAKE, MS. TORIEL?"

"I have been getting this house standing."

"and sneaking the candies."

"Just a few here and there."

"and a cookie."

"I at least frosted mine before eating it, unlike someone."

"wonder who that could be."

"YOU'RE STILL EATING THE COOKIE."

"we'll never know."

——

𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙢.

the table shook as undyne smashed her fist into their gingerbread house.

i hardly saw the finished product before they decided on eating it immediately.

as a result of the table shaking, papyrus sighed as the other toppled over as well.

"At least we were pretty much done."

frisk consoled.

"now you get to eat it."

various pieces of gingerbread were passed around the table, as well as decorated cookies.

——

asgore was here but couldn't stay too much longer, so we packed him a nice to-go bag. papyrus even put a bow on it.

——

considering how long he's been doing food stuff, it should come as no surprise that grillby's decorated cookies are neat and pretty.

he and tori's are both on the same level, really.

flowey tried his best.

so did papyrus.

and anyone who's not the aforementioned same level.

didn't expect frisk to struggle with it so much.

"It's so goopy, dude! How does anyone work with icing??"

——

they stared at the icing tube in their hand.

"just gonna hold onto that all night?"

"....."

"Can I slurp it like a yogurt tube?"

"I've been fighting the urge this whole time."

"let me see."

"paps, are we gonna need these icings again?"

"NO, I BELIEVE THEY WERE JUST FOR TODAY. ANYONE CAN TAKE THEM."

tori was too engaged in conversation with undyne and alphys to be paying attention.

grillby couldn't care less.

he's used to someone downing odd things in his vicinity.

mettaton and napsta wouldn't care even if they were paying attention, either.

"promise to brush your teeth extra good tonight?"

"Yep."

"if you get sick from it, that's on you."

"Yep."

"ok."

"go ahead."

——

flowey poked at them, face-down to the floor in front of the couch.

with a slippered foot, i tapped frisk's side.

"so."

"So?"

"regret?"

"Regret that my body couldn't take it. I don't, otherwise."

"ok. if you do get sick, don't do it on your old lady's carpet here."

"I woon'tt."

doofus.

"think i should try it too?"

"Please do! I'd love to see you drop to the floor exactly like this idiot."

flowey said, also eating straight up icing.

he seems only benefitted from what'd be a unhealthy amount of sugar for anyone else.

"see you on the floor in a few minutes, kid."

——

"YOU DID WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU WHEN YOU'RE TALKING INTO THE CARPET."

"drank icing."

"𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧'𝗦 WHY YOU ASKED ABOUT THE ICING??"

"yep."

"WHY, BROTHER?"

"sounded good."

"FEELS LESS SO, BY THE LOOKS OF IT."

"i'll get over it."

dual sugar overload aside, it's chill down here.

#undertale #journal #sans #flowey #papyrus #frisk #toriel #sans and frisk #frisk and sans #sans and papyrus

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iboatedhere · 1 year

Text

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you yesterday.”

TK sets the phone on speaker and puts it down on the counter so he can dig through the cupboard with both hands. “Don’t worry about it,” he tells Paul.

“I totally meant to but then the mayor had this thing and I felt a little weird ducking away on my first week on the job…”

“Dude, I said don’t worry about it–ah! Found you,” he says as he pulls out the jar of peanut butter and twists open the top. “Ugh. Is peanut butter supposed to separate into liquid and chunks?”

“Is it chunky peanut butter?” Paul asks.

“Not according to the label.”

“Don’t eat that, TK.”

“Well then I have no breakfast.”

“Go grocery shopping.”

“That is easier said than done,” TK tells him as he drops the jar into the trash. “Anyway, congrats on starting your new job, happy for you, not upset that you didn’t call, I probably wouldn’t have picked up anyway.”

“Wild night?”

“Yes and no. I went out with Ethan and those guys—.” He pauses to let Paul groan. “And then they all ditched me—.” Another pause so Paul can groan even louder. “And then, Carlos took me out to this barbecue place that had amazing food and dancing—.”

“Wait–,” Paul interrupts. “Carlos as in Agent Carlos Reyes? When did the switch to the first names happen?”

“I guess something about watching me get my heart stomped on in public softened him to me. We’re friends, I guess. Friendly, at least. I don't know, but last night something happened…”

“Something bad?”

“Something…I don’t know. There was a moment last night when we were dancing–.”

“What kind of dancing?”

TK rolls his eyes. “What does that matter?”

“I want to know if you were grinding on your secret service agent, I feel like that’s important to the story.”

“It was line dancing, okay, there was no grinding. We barely even touched until this moment at the end where I bumped into this guy and Carlos got weird. He yanked me against his side and I thought we could kiss right now.”

There’s a long pause on the other side of the call until Paul sighs. “So it was something bad.”

“Why is that bad?”

“Because he’s your secret service agent,” Paul stresses, “and he works for your mother, and your life is in his hands on a daily basis.”

“He has nice hands,” TK notes and Paul makes a distressed sound. “He does. He was licking barbecue sauce off of them all night…it was hot. What do you expect from me, I’m only human with a strong pull toward oral fixation.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“Whatever,” TK says, “you’re just jealous I never wanted to makeout with you.”

“Everyone wants to makeout with me,” Paul corrects. “You know you can’t do anything about this, right?”

“I wonder if he would’ve tasted sweet like the tea we were drinking or spicy from the sauce.”

“TK, you can’t.”

“I know,” TK tells him. “I get it, I really do and I would never act on it. I don’t even know if I want to act on it or if I’m just upset about Alex and trying to move on and Carlos is just the guy that happens to be there.”

“I think that’s a good possibility.”

There’s a knock on the front door and TK grabs the phone. “I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t climb into his lap while we’re in the back of the car–oh god.”

“What?”

“Do you think there’s cameras here? Do you think they bugged my house for security reasons and he’s been listening to this conversation the whole time?”

“No, I don’t, but I do think there’s an NSA agent that’s been listening to this call the whole time.”

“Hello NSA Agent,” TK jokes and Paul laughs. “Are you hot? Do you want my tongue in your mouth?”

With Carlos on his mind, TK stops to look through the peephole. There’s no one there, and TK frowns as he unlocks and opens the door.

There’s a plain brown package on the front step with his name and addressed typed in bold font and taped to the top. It’s too early for anyone to be out and about, but down the end of the street a FedEx truck rattles as it turns left onto 33rd.

TK leans down to grab the package but a feeling of dread passes over him before he gets more than halfway.

“Paul,” he says as he straightens up. “There’s a package on my front steps.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not expecting anything.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #wip wednesday #secret service au

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 8 months

Text

I See You : Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Warnings and Information: Going with a 13+ rating just on account of language in the form of Star Wars and real-world swearing, just to be cautious. Self-indulgent modern AU fic, but you can read it too. This is practice for Crosshair's character as well as something mildly therapeutic. I'm… fine, but not fabulous, y'know? Job hunting is not exactly fun, so I'm just writing out my frustrations. How many Clone cameos can I fit in here? We'll find out together. They're not dead, what are you talking about? Empire gets compared to any one of those multimillion-dollar companies that treat you like shit no matter how good of a worker you are with Palp as the soul-sucking CEO in modernized terms. Rare fic without minor instances of Mando'a, but plenty of my stylistic and narrative use of italics. Minor proofreading.

Word-count: 4,237

The phone rings. You put it up to your ear so fast you nearly drop your cell in your haste to answer, not even looking at the screen. You should've. It would have saved you time, the realization that these people were not reaching out to get back to you about your job application. You hang up halfway into the pitch about repairing damaged products you don't even own.

The lid slams to the washing machine."Oh, fuck me!" you yell, groaning loudly.

You're of two minds; be consumed with your frustrations and take it out on the washing machine, or just clean the paint stains out with your tears. You're sure that'll work just as well as the detergent in order to get out that large smear of phthalo blue. Except, it won't, and the sooner you get this load started, the less time the paint has to set and stain. The lid is lifted.

Footfall softer than falling snow, Crosshair makes his way in from some other part of the shared house, his expression passive as he observes you dunking fistfuls of dirty clothing into the wash-drum. "Is that an invitation or a request?" He at least waited to make his remark until he was certain you noticed him and gave him a trademark "what the kriff do you want?" sort of look.

Knuckles pale as you grip the lip of the machine with one hand. "I'm not in the mood for your-"

"No; I know you're not." Crosshair interrupts you. "But I came to see if you hurt yourself, mostly."

"I'm fine." you snarl, slam-dunking the last of the clothing from the hamper anchored against your hip. "I slammed the lid." A neat brow buckles just a fraction, all the response you get as you push your way past him, returning to the small office that served as your art studio in this house. You're really not in the mood. You were a whirlwind of emotion, most of it negative.

You can feel his eyes from the doorway, trained on the back of your neck as you work. Gosh you made such a mess, you shouldn't have used so much paint thinner. "Go away, Cross. I need to clean up my easel and see if I can't salvage this portrait of…" You stop, breath hitching when you hear Crosshair clear his throat softly. He's directly behind you now, his voice taking on a slightly serpentine quality in its softness.

"Your clean shirt's on backwards, doll."

You shake your head, stubbornly refusing to believe him. "Nice try. Not while my hands are dirty. Tell me again once I get this mess cleaned up."

Wordlessly, Crosshair plucks the runny canvas from its easel and makes sure not to take it beyond the edge of the tarp. Hunter would be disappointed to find a mess on the beautiful hardwood floors so soon after he's treated them. And you'd be disappointed with yourself to give a portrait to an important friend in its current state. What should have been beautiful, angular and geometric lines are little more than a royal mess.

"Just go ahead and trash it for me…"

The same brow arches. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to give Hardcase a painting that looks like that..." you reply, huffing in your disappointment and frustration that you'd gotten so sloppy with your oils. "I said his portrait would be perfect practice for crisp, angular forms with that beautiful pop of blue from his tattoo and this is… far from it."

Your housemate looks at you with mild surprise. As far as mild surprise goes for Crosshair, anyhow. He wouldn't look quite so aghast like Wrecker, or frown quite so deeply as Echo.

"Who are you and what have you done to the Bob Rossified [____] we know and admire? What happened to the happy accidents?" Ordinarily, the comparison to the famous art instructor and television host would have made your face burn brighter than your favorite brand of alizarin crimson paint.

Instead, you scoff at him. "Very funny..."

"I'm serious." Crosshair insists, setting the portrait back on the easel once you've wiped it down, "What's the matter?"

You shouldn't snap at him, but your mouth just runs away from you. "I thought I got a call back from the place I applied to. I was wrong! It was some damn spam call, and I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed. Okay? Happy now?"

The palms of his hands flash in a surrendering fashion to you before he speaks. "I'd say you're more angry than disappointed." Sighing, you take your cleaning rag and do Crosshair a favor by removing the thinned, blue oil paint from his hands after he notices it himself. "Kriff. Sorry."

Gently, you assure him you'll take care of it. That it's no trouble. That he's right, after some thought, "I guess… I am angry. All these places that are supposedly so kriffing desperate for employees sure take their damn sweet time. Or they seem to be hiring everyone but you. It makes me feel… invisible. They should have called me by now! Right…?" Crosshair looks at the calendar tacked to the wall of your little studio, where it's written in your favorite color the day you applied to the art supply store. They definitely should have by this point, he agrees.

"Have they reached out by email?" he asks gently, watching as you take that same cleaning cloth and gingerly wipe down the bottom edge of the canvas. He's convinced you for the time being not to break it over your knee and pitch it into the curbside bin until you at least give yourself an hour away from your brushes to think it over.

You shake your head, "I've been checking every day. Nothing." You now wash your brushes before the paint gums up the bristles, at least. And then you promise you'll lay aside your brushes and go grab a bite to eat with him. "And most places these days, they're likely to actually trash your résumé if you call them to 'follow up' on your application process. That old piece of unsolicited advice needs to die out, pronto. Just because it worked for- for- Agatha and her generation, doesn't mean it works for mine!"

Crosshair snorts.

"What?"

"Agatha?"

"Shut up… I could have gone with Karen and been unoriginal." you grumble, gingerly fixing the arrangement of your fan brush.

Crosshair retorts sarcastically, giving you a playful smirk. "The 1930s called, they'd like to know why you're using such a dated name." Ordinarily, Crosshair stays out of your hair (and your studio) by never bothering you as you work, but it's clear that he's trying to cheer you up, even a little.

"Unless the 1930s is offering me a job," you start, plucking the thin script brush from his dexterous fingers just as he begins to twirl it, "it better not bother me by calling…"

"The art store will call you eventually, I'm sure…" he tells you, the grim frown matching your souring expression. "You love art. You're a creative person. What better person to work at a place like that than someone who could practically recite an episode of The Joy of Painting in her sleep?" You point out, playfully, that Tech could recite an episode of Painting in his sleep just as easily as you. But at least you crack a smile as you do so, so he lets it slide. "Okay, you and my brother." Cross concedes, thinking back to the time the household decided to try a "painting party" to break up the seasonal gloom last December. "Maybe Hardcase and Wrecker too, if the pocket squirrels make an appearance."

Here, you finally chuckle. "Forgetting Fives would be criminal. Or how concentrated Dogma gets."

Cross just nods agreeably, hoping to keep a good thing going. "I wouldn't dare. My point is, you'd be amazing at an art store. They'd be lucky to have a gal like you who gives a kriff about art working for them."

You flash Crosshair a confused and crooked smile as you set down the last of your brushes and tighten the last twist-cap on your tube of oil-based paints. "You think so?" You're surprised how… sincere Crosshair sounds. You had to do a little metaphorical arm twisting just to get him to join you when the only spot left in the living room was a seat on the couch next to Rex.

Cross just nods decidedly. "C'mon. Let's grab a burger or something. My treat." A burger sounds great, you tell him, fixing your shirt so it's not on backwards before you stroll out the door.

Maker above, did he really mean his treat. Crosshair took you both down to the best burger joint in the city, where the two of you ate your respective orders and split a carton of fries with the house seasoning and plenty of salt.

"Oooh, kriff me…" you moaned blissfully, sucking your fingers clean of the granules of salt and seasoning, "these fries hit the spot every time." They're probably your favorite thing here, honestly. Perfect amount of crispness, balanced flavor, and hot; never ever tepid or cold. Cross snags a few more fries from the carton before nudging it your way, inviting you to polish off the rest. "You don't want any more?" you ask, curious. "There's still plenty in there to share."

He offers a lazy shrug, "I'll think about it." He slips his phone from his pocket when he hears a ping, and he hums thoughtfully after reading the message. "... Think I should let Wrecker find out on his own that he's home alone?" You can only shake your head disapprovingly of the wry smile, mouth too full of food to chastise him. While Wrecker and Crosshair weren't afraid of messing around with one another, you worried about it getting out of hand on occasion. "Fine. I'll let him know we're not home so the big guy doesn't worry, doll. In fact…"

Cross types down a message much longer than a simple courtesy "we're not home" text, and then cleans up the discarded burger wrappers and straw sleeves, snagging a few more fries once you say you can't possibly eat another bite. "Good. Not a lot of fun when you go shopping hungry."

"Didn't we just make a grocery run two days ago?" Crosshair shakes his head, then pitches everything into the large garbage receptacle as you grab your things. "Not that kind of shopping then." you determine. There were a lot of possible options, but you didn't have to slog through another massive grocery list, at least. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." Crosshair replies simply, holding the door for you to follow after as he steps into the parking lot. "I had an idea." Now you really wonder where you're going, or what he has planned. Crosshair and spontaneity get along about as well as a Tooka and bathwater, sometimes.

You have to remind yourself that Crosshair wasn't a complete stick in the mud all the time, and when you first met him, he was still working for the same company that his other brothers had quit once they found out what kind of person the man who ran this multimillion company turned out to be.

First found himself working under some bloke named Edmon down the managerial line, before he was arrested for embezzlement. Then a real asswipe of a superior named Nolan took over, and after someone got hurt really badly on a "company retreat" and Nolan refused to call for an ambulance, Crosshair finally came to his senses about the place.

They don't give a shit about how loyal of a worker you are, just like Hunter, Wrecker, Tech and Echo warned him. They were right all along.

You thought you mattered to us? Please… Someone younger and desperate enough will come in and take your place if we feed them enough honeyed lies!

So Cross stole Nolan's car and drove himself and the injured coworker down to a hospital two hours away from the company retreat. Crosshair had known the guy for less than 24 hours (or something like that), but Mayday's injury helped Cross come to realize that the company was a sinking ship. So he got them both out. Now, Mayday and Cross spend every Sunday night checking in on each other. Cross works odd jobs from home, mostly, and Mayday… Well he was content with not being employed for a while.

The longer Crosshair has been living at home with his brothers again, the more he's starting to get (some of) his old sense of self back. He's no longer couch surfing because he didn't want to deal with his brothers fussing over his choice to remain with the company.

He was never, ever kicked out.

Cross had always been welcome to come back home, with a spare key tucked under the welcome mat if he ever needed it.

You'd been the one to find him letting himself into the house at three in the morning after Mayday talked Cross into going and seeing his brothers. You were "leasing" a room from the brothers at the time, and they had let you know the deal about Crosshair. "Please don't call the police if you ever find someone who's just… let himself into the house. That's our brother. We've been worried about him. He's made choices we don't agree with, but he's still our brother. We care about him."

Of course, Cross had no warning about you, but he eventually warmed up to you in time after you had practically broken Hunter's door off its hinges to let him know that Cross was here and he was tackled into the coffee table by the biggest of his brothers in Wrecker's excitement.

That spare key under the welcome mat now sits on your ring of keys, which you fiddle with in your hands the longer you and Crosshair drive through the city.

"Isn't this the way downtown?"

"Mhm."

"Still won't give me a hint, Cross?"

"No." he chuckles, pulling the steering wheel into a smooth left turn. "You'll see soon enough, doll."

He's taken you to the art store, to your surprise. The one you applied to. Not that specific location you applied to in town, thank the Maker, but the chain, rather. "I haven't been to one of these places in years…" Cross admits softly as he pulls himself out of the car. "Figured while we were out of the house, we'd stop by."

"How come?" you ask. You'd recently just bought a bunch of paint, so it's not like you needed anything in particular, really, maybe just wanted… There was one particularly pricey art supply you've had your eye on and lusting after for a while now, but given your current unemployment status, you're really trying to control your spending. "You got a project in mind, or somethin', Cross?"

Shoulders bounce. "Not really."

"So… what are we doing here?"

"Looking." he declares, steering you into the store by your shoulder. "Lookings always free. So is anything you can apply the five-finger disco-"

"Cross!"

"I'm kidding." he declares semi-defensively, laughing at the expression on your face. "C'mon, doll, you know I'm kidding. Hard to smuggle out a whole canvas or large pack of… whaddya call those markers? Cop-picks?"

Mild mortification turns into bubbly giggles over his decent effort to pronounce the brand name. "Copics. They're called Copic markers. And, they're kind of a scam." He just looks at you with an expression of confusion, so you figure you better explain. "Here, lemme show you." Taking his hand, you lead Cross down to the aisle dedicated to sketch pads, pencils and markers. On the shelves, there's dozens of specialty packs and bundles with quirky names.

Oceanic, "Beach Blast!", and skin tones are all prominently stocked for the summer. Singleton markers are what you're looking for though. You pluck a Copic Classic from one of the slots, and point to the price sticker.

A whopping 9.65 credits for a single kriffing marker. "Keep that in mind," you say, as you scoot down the aisle and show him the stock of Ohuhu brand markers, "and compare it to this." You select a similar color to the Classic in the Ohuhu brand, and tap the price sticker. A far more reasonable 2.49 credits.

He scratches the back of his head and neck. "What the kriff…? Is there a significant difference in the brand or something?" He's not exactly all that artistically inclined like you are, so to him, he's not sure if there's anything he's seeing that warrants such sticker-shock for a damn marker.

"Just the name, really. Copic markers aren't really the end-all-be-all of alcohol-based art markers anymore. Ohuhu branded markers are just as good as Copics, and you get more markers for say… fifty credits in Ohuhus than Copics." you explain, putting the markers back in their respective slots. "I won't bore you with more details that go into it, but that's the bare bones of it."

Cross nods politely to indicate he's listening to you, lifting a pack of art markers off the display to give it a closer look. Once he has satisfied his curiosity, he puts it back and glances at the different sketch pads. "And these probably tell you what they're best suited for, somewhere." You confirm his thought with a simple nod, tapping one of the sketchbooks. Drawing pad, 64 pages best suited for graphite, marker and colored pencils.

"They'll often tell you either on the cover, or on an inside page, sometimes. Depends on the brand."

You're getting the feeling that maybe Cross is looking for something after all, but he won't admit it to you. He keeps asking you question after question as you go down each aisle of the store. If there's a section dedicated to a particular craft you're not very familiar with, the two of you just look at the items in silence for the most part. You're (pun not entirely intended) pouring over all the different resin supplies together when Crosshair asks you another question to break the silence.

"Do you ever show your art online? Some kind of… creative forum, or something? Or is it all just personal projects, like the portraits you've done for Rex and the one you're trying to do for Hardcase?"

You chew your bottom lip for a moment as you mull over what you'll say. "I… stopped. For a long time."

"Why?"

You huff softly, returning one of the unusual resin molds back to the shelf. Little space shuttles and UFOs and such. (Space travel… wouldn't that be something?) "I couldn't get out of the trap of comparing myself to others. I don't know if you could call it imposter syndrome, or anxiety, or what. But I just felt… small. Unnoticed. Invisible." Crosshair frowns, stepping closer to you to allow someone with a large cartful of yarn and children's paint sets squeeze past. She looked like a teacher, gentle and kind and so, so tired. But she gave the pair of you a kind smile as she moved down the aisle and pondered over the different bags of beads one could buy in bulk for crafts.

"That's the second time you've used that word, [____]."

You give him an inquisitive look, surprised by his statement. The rare use of your name. "Wh-what word?"

"Invisible." Crosshair answers, closing that gap between you further when his hand reaches out to cup your face for a moment to scrutinize you, study you. "Is that how you feel?"

"I guess?" you start, but you think a little more, and you find that, yes, sometimes you do feel invisible. "I feel like… people don't… notice me. Like I'm trying to do it all damn wrong. It's been fucking weeks and places won't call me back! Or I'll post things and it gets a handful of interactions when I put the effort into it, but the shit I don't, that's what fucking blows up and goes viral. I don't fucking get it and I… sometimes I just don't know why I bother trying to apply myself when I'm just… invisible and unseen. This shit sucks, Cross." you admit a little bitterly. You take a deep breath and apologize for swearing in the store, in case the other customers can hear you. You apologize again when the tears begin to prickle and well in the corners of your eyes for getting so worked up, but you're just kind of at a loss for what to do next. You've tried so many things… you just feel like you're talking to yourself because no one will answer your applications.

Crosshair doesn't say anything for a while, and you don't take it to heart. He's not the chattiest of your housemates, as you learned a long time ago. Sometimes, he did have things to say, but he wanted to take some care with his words if Cross sensed he needed to be a little more delicate.

And he could be surprisingly good at being delicate when the need arises.

Assuringly, tenderly, Crosshair brushes the tears from your eyes and motions for you to follow him. "I see how much this stuff matters to you. If a stuffy old art store can't see it, just know that I see it. You're not invisible to me, kid. I see you." He's brought you to the paint section, coming to a stop in front of the selection of oil paints in particular.

"I may not understand all of… this," he gestures broadly at the display of thick, silver-foil tubes of paint, and selects a beautiful cerulean blue off the rack, "but I see how much this means to you. You know your shit. You're getting better all the time. I see that. One day, I think people will see that you know your shit too, and you won't have to feel so invisible anymore. But I see you. Hunter, and Wrecker and Tech, and- your friends see you, doll. You've got such a passion for these things… but you're…"

You wait for him to continue for a moment, wondering what he wants to say. You decide to hazard a guess when all he can offer is a soft shrug when he finds himself at a loss for words. "Beating myself up, too much…?" You eye the tube of paint in his hands, and wonder for a moment why he's been taking so many things off the shelves only to look at them before putting them back in their proper place. Tech's told you Cross has sharp eyesight, perhaps more on the farsighted side if anything. (Was he more farsighted than you initially assumed?)

"Perhaps." Cross admits, softly juggling the tube in the palm of his hand. "If nothing else I said sticks with you… I just hope that the fact that I see and recognize your efforts does, doll. I know I'm only one person, but sometimes, just hearing it from one person is all we need."

You feel your cheeks pinch with a little smile hearing him say that. One of those things, one of those times where someone says exactly what you needed to hear when you didn't know you needed to hear it most. "That's… awfully nice of you to say, Crosshair. Thank you…"

"I should give some credit to Mayday," Crosshair admits with a soft laugh, now pulling a tube of cobalt and ultramarine blue off the shelves, "he's the one who's been encouraging me to… do what feels right, if he thinks I'm feeling a little lost between the odd job. And doing what feels right includes helping you restart that portrait of Hardcase if you really think you need to trash the first one."

"Is that why you keep grabbing all those different blues?" you giggle, watching him now idly shuffle three different tubes of blue oil paint in his hands.

Crosshair nodded, making you laugh as he grabbed a fourth tube with a wink. "Yeah. I noticed that you didn't have these blues back at home. And that you use phthalo blue a lot like a certain painter."

"Are you comparing me to Bob Ross again?" you tease, stifling a laugh as you make your way to the checkout together. You've been away from your brushes for more than an hour at this point, and you're itching to get back to the process of creating while you still have the time to do as much as you want; before you're hopefully contracted with a job offer and have less time to dedicate to such things.

"Maybe." he purrs mischievously, ringing up each of the paints before carefully wrapping them up in their own separate plastic bags for the trip home. "If I am, do I get to see you paint?"

You can only shake your head with a gentle laugh. "We'll see, Cross."

That's good enough for him, he says as you collect the receipt from the self checkout machine, just so long as you promised you'd give yourself a little more grace and faith that soon enough, you'd get the job offer you wanted.

Some days will be easier than others… but you'll do your best, you promise. You're pretty sure you can manage that.

[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]

Tagging: @the-hexfiles who wanted to see some soft!Crosshair <3

Note from Frost: Apparently Mayday got assigned some kind of "Work Dad who takes care of and looks out for the younger employees" vibes while I was writing this self-indulgent (and mildly therapeutic) quick-fic, lmao. And hopefully, this ends up being good practice for soft!Crosshair down the line, as it comes into play in the next long-form series I'm working on. Yeah maybe it's perhaps a tad too out-of-character, but kriff it.

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inkybloom-luv · 9 months

Text

Words Unsaid 4, housing arrangements suck

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

Hello hello everyone who's been reading this series!! Part 4 is here! I hope you enjoy the series as much as I do!

Characters may be a bit ooc in this but this also includes some personal headcanons about Kalim and some stuff that'll be resolved in the next chapters

Some more spoilers from ch.4 so be aware

Again, can be read as x reader but I have been mentioning my prefect's name more in this chapter so be aware of that.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Tw: injuries, absolutely abysmal and disgusting living situation, Crowley being a bad headmage

1.6+k words

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Have I ever told you your hair looked pretty the way you wear it? The way you tie that beaten up black bandana around your dark hair that only barely differs in colour enough to differentiate? The blue in it makes it easier perhaps, but it's a recent change, from what I'd seen. Has the headmage decided to pay for a visit to the local hairdresser? I can't help but think you look nice, though your messy hair from before had its charm.

I digress. Your hair is not why I'm writing this, though I could go on about yours. I wanted to apologize to you. I want you to know that I regret nothing more than treating you the way I did. I took advantage of the way it seemed you could look only me in the eyes when speaking to someone. I betrayed Kalim. But that didn't hurt me as much as it did to betray you.

I found one of them, your letters. I wonder how many more there are. I wonder if any of them describe how much I'd hurt you. When I read it my heart ached and cracked and broke. It bled. I wish I'd known sooner. I wish I'd known about the incident with Azul. I wish I hadn't turned your dream, your desert mirage into a walking nightmare.

No, that wouldn't do. It didn't feel right. It felt.. Jamil didn't know what it felt like. He crumpled this paper too, throwing it way towards a trash can. He'd set up in his room, ducking away from prying eyes. But no matter how many papers he wrote, nothing felt right, felt good. It just wouldn't compare to the words she'd written about him. For once in his life he was at a loss. He had no plan, he didn't know what to do.

To make matters worse a knock sounded. Kalim. He was asking for tea once Jamil was free, but really, Jamil needed a break. He sighed a frustrated sigh and opened the door. He told Kalim he'd make him the tea, not noticing he'd kicked a ball of paper into the hallway. The most recent letter he'd thrown away. Kalim noticed it only after Jamil had left it. Picked it up and read it too. Kalim was a lot of things, though he acted carefree, dense and yes, kind of stupid, he was observant. He knew people. He knew Jamil. And he knew who this letter was addressed to. Even if it has been weeks since then, almost a month even. Sure, Jamil had thrown this letter out, but it was something Jamil had been doing for those weeks. Shutting himself in his room for at least an hour and especially at night the light from there would keep burning. And Kalim had had enough. He decided to help.

And that he did. He took the letter and headed straight for Ramshackle. It was pouring rain on campus. Ramshackle wasn't much better, seeing as it was an old building. Heck, he'd met the prefect a while back and they looked exhausted and slightly injured.

Kalim knew the dorm needed renovations but.. when he got there it was worse than he expected. Sure some areas were fixed up but the stairs had holes and the roof leaked, judging by the bowls and buckets all over the floor. The old couch was a bit uncomfortable but it was better than the creaky floor. It was cold too, so much so that the prefect wore a jacket. But with a broken window, courtesy of some Savanaclaw students who had been ostracized and punished well enough by Leona according to the prefect, everyone would be cold. The prefect wrapped a blanket around kalim, seemingly the only nice one. The one from their room which they'd struggled to move down the stairs that were obviously breaking more and more under anyone's step, no matter how light.

The prefect, or, as he knew her better, Inky, had gotten injured fighting Jamil. A bandage around their arm indicated that. Their shirt had a sleeve lifted to accommodate. One of the snakes in Jamil's hair had bitten her there, ripping out a bit of skin. But that was the only injury she'd really gotten. The other bandages and bandaids were from the poor condition of their living quarters. She twisted her ankle going up stairs as one of the boards gave way, the floorboards made her trip and bruise, the large shards of the broken window had cut her hands. And still Crowley was running this girl dry. He'd talk to Crowley afterwards. He finished drying his hair off with one of the few nice towels the prefect did have. he'd gotten it before the blanket.

No more time should be wasted. He spoke. "Jamil is upset. Stressed. He shuts himself in his room for an hour at least almost every day. His light burns into the night. I wanted to know what he's doing. I found this in the hallway and it's.. addressed to you as far as I know. I don't think he wanted you to see this. But if he keeps this up he'll never say what he wants." Kalim was worried. More than. The prefect skimmed the letter. She sighed, her lips pressing together. She should tell Kalim.. and she did. Because her letters couldn't stay hidden anymore. Jamil mentioned them in his writing.

"I write letters to Jamil about my encounters or thoughts of him. I didn't think he knew. But I must've dropped the one I was writing at the time in Scarabia.", she explained, her gaze pointed at the letter in her hands, tears welling up in her eyes now as she continued, her voice breaking as she spoke as steady as she could,

"I miss him. I thought he hated me. I'm.. I'm not good at reading people. I can't look people in the eyes but it was so easy with him. I'm scared to try again. But- But I want to. I've just been.. far too busy. The storm that's been plaguing the island has been causing trouble. The other students have been causing trouble. Everything is loud all the time and I can't take it..! I want to see Jamil. But I can't. I have too much to do. This dorm is falling apart. Someone needs to fix it and Crowley sure as hell isn't doing it. I can't leave here right now."

Kalim nodded his white haired head. He sighed. This was harder than he thought. So Jamil wants to apologize but cannot bring himself to do it in person in fear of Inky being.. scared of him. And Inky.. is way too busy to do much of anything and the storm outside is destroying the old dorm she lives in. No wonder she's hardly been seen, she's constantly repairing her home here. And she could barely keep up much of anything. Everything costs way too much for the little amount of money she gets.

That was an hour ago. Kalim was sitting in the common room, drying off and being oddly quiet. He was thinking. He should.. oh.. he doesn't know what he should do. He should tell Jamil though. Tell Jamil the prefect wants to see him again, but is struggling to make time for anything. When he passed Kalim, the latter called out to him.

"Jamil..! I visited Inky..! Apparently she's really busy.. and she looked hurt all over! I'm worried about her..!" He said in a slightly overdramatic tone. Jamil's face held a look of concern, genuine worry even for only a split second.

"What's happened to the prefect? Why were you visiting her in this storm anyway?", the long haired desert dweller asked.

"Well..! We haven't heard from her at all and I got worried..! You won't believe the condition she's living in, it's terrible Jamil..! She's freezing because of broken windows and the creaky floor is made of tripping hazards..! She almost fell so many times..! And the stairs too, they're so old they have holes and they almost break when anything with any weight lands on it..! The roof is leaking too! It's terrible Jamil!" Kalim had to take a short breather after that. There was no way he could keep talking out of breath. Even all that was enough to send dread to the pit of Jamil's stomach. Was it really that terrible in ramshackle?

"Their roof is leaking too! They can barely keep up with replacing the buckets and bowls and her ankle twisted funny the other day..! She looked so tired.. I want to cheer her up.. but I don't know what to do..! Even I can tell how unsafe it is in there..!"

Now that had Jamil actually shocked. The prefect had been living in that the whole time? How could anyone even- he couldn't believe it. His mouth spoke before his head could react. "Put her up in Scarabia. Get her to stay here-"

And that was what Kalim was hoping for. He may not be good in school or anything like that and rely on Jamil a lot. But. He could think for himself. He could make his own plan. And he did. And it worked.

"You know what Jamil? That's a great idea! I should have my parents donate some money to renovate Ramshackle.. can you tell the principal to tell the prefect?"

Who would've thought Kalim would manipulate someone, and so well too. Not that it was big. But it went very well. Jamil didn't protest. He left. He went to go see the headmage to tell him what happened. What would happen. And while he did that Kalim called his parents. He told them the same thing. Told them about the living condition of the prefect. Ramshackle would most definitely get renovated, even if it would take quite some time. Funds were no issue after all.

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@leonistic

@cy-inky

@azulashengrottospiano

@dove-da-birb

@krenenbaker

If anyone else wants to be tagged, send me an ask!

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auromelt · 7 months

Note

thoughts on if suzaki somehow got adopted by oya????

i see him more as a suzuran guy i don’t actually think he’d fit into oya well unless he was having a Real Serious mental breakdown and they were the ones to help him out of it lol. i can see him being friends with at least fujio though and he knows that if anything happens to him at senomon he’ll have a safe place at oya

i have headcanons though 😭

oya!suzaki:

first he and amagai are Done in this scenario. they’ve split, it’s over. suzaki hates the way they went out, but what can he really do? where will he ever be wanted and needed again?

oya heard about it from their silly little intel guy and it’s just not right. no matter how they individually feel about senomon’s guard dog, he doesn’t deserve to be thrown out with the trash, not after everything he did for amagai. it’s this that drives fujio to extending a hand out for him.

did i mention suzaki would look hot as fuck in black? anyways.

a lot of the oya guys are probably pretty mistrustful of him. i mean, as expected, he did play an active role in abducting and almost killing their #2. i like to imagine fujio would trust him and prompt the others to treat him nicely which nobody really takes kindly to. it’s because of this that fujio might be the only person he’s willing to speak to properly. things do improve with time of course

strangely, of all people, tsukasa is quite fond of him. he’ll make conversation with suzaki too but suzaki is soooo awkward with him because of the aforementioned kidnapping thing

we saw in the movie that suzaki is Strong, like a one-man army, 3-on-1 kinda strong. having him definitely elevates oya’s fighting prowess. he’s a lot like the hope hill guys in the sense that from a very young age he’s had to learn to fight for himself and win a place away from the bottom to survive. without having to protect a useless crybaby, his full potential is unlocked and he essentially displaces fujio at the top. i mean did we watch the same movie? he took on todoroki and odajima at the same time and still had the ability to go against fujio and probably would’ve won if the power of friendship was on his side… or if amagai’s irritating ass didn’t wake the dead

he doesn’t replace fujio as the leader. his experiences with senomon and amagai have built immense loyalty within himself and this loyalty has projected onto fujio now. at his core, suzaki is built to serve and protect. he’ll protect fujio with all he has because fujio was kind to him when no one else was. he helps in defending fujio’s place, never steps beyond that

he doesn’t officially join any factions, he has a hard time with people and everyone’s still kinda scared of him. he mostly works alone and corresponds with fujio. still, despite not having anything to defend but himself, he’s always at the beck and call of tsukasa faction

speaking of todoroki he and suzaki do Not get along. their personalities just clash horribly but rather than conflict, the two just ignore each other unless they need to work together. i think they’d probably have some level of respect for each other and honestly they’re probably more alike than they believe themselves.

suzaki would look so good in black

hm… he’s also strangely nice to jamuo. jamuo is terrified of him but i think suzaki would find him quite interesting. he was never much of an intel guy, that was saboten’s job in senomon and he sucked at it, only ever really able to force information out through beating people up. he’ll absolutely defend jamuo from the people who like picking on him

when amagai actually does find out what suzaki’s been up to, he’s furious of course. but he doesn’t have his guard dog anymore and he’s just stuck with the absolutely useless senomon high students. amagai would absolutely feel like oya stole what’s his, even if he was the one to throw suzaki out in the first place. against what is probably smart, amagai goes directly to oya to find suzaki and confront him and take him back because suzaki was supposed to be a stray dog he wasn’t supposed to move on. amagai can’t stand that.

when he reaches oya, i think yasukiyo would be the ones to greet him 🤔 with a punch to the face. tsukasa handles amagai’s intrusion, telling him to get out before they show him what they do to intruders on their home turf. amagai demands to see suzaki but suzaki won't see him, hiding away within earshot. amagai calls him a coward and tells him it’s not over and that he’ll get back at suzaki somehow. i think oya would probably have their big realisation of what suzaki’s been through at that moment, listening to the way amagai speaks to him and threatens him, seeing the genuine sickness and fear on suzaki’s expression. suddenly, the guard dog looks more like an abandoned puppy.

he does come out as amagai leaves, telling him to leave oya alone. the people standing close to him can see the unbreakable suzaki ryo shake, can see how scared he is, but he defends fujio against the person who scarred him anyways

after that he gets along better with oya, they realise that despite their past, despite everything, suzaki’s loyalty rests with them

you know what? i said i didn’t see the vision so idk how i wrote this much and now i’ve low key kinda convinced myself? 😭 anyways i hope this is satisfactory!

#🦙 anons #high & low #high&low #suzaki ryo #high & low the worst x #high&low the worst x #oya high

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