#(seriously it was a -4 for sleeping alone and a -6 for sleeping with two metamours)
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nonbinary-octopus · 1 year ago
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you know, I think it's cute they take their hats off to do cute lovey dovey stuff
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And Mila is getting her romance bar absolutely filled by her husband and boyfriends. Oppossom apparently didn't do anything cute with her super recently, but they were the first ones I saw doing romancey stuff-- he left his hospital bed to go cloudwatching with her.
...wait, where did VT and Mila find a campfire? Did they light a fire for a date???
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saikira999 · 7 months ago
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~ Headcanons for twst characters playing Minecraft.
Another parts about:
Idia and Malleus!
Riddle and Leona!
Jade and Floyd!
[Azul]
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Headcanon, what if Idia and Yuu somehow convinced Him to play minecraft, Azul...:
1) "Why are there cubes everywhere??? I don’t understand anything...."
2) When he learns that monsters are appearing in the dark, he places two stacks of torches around himself in horror.
3) Crying from the physics of trees.
4) Will try to make a copy of Mostro in Minecraft.
5) He does not like to dig in mines and fight, but prefers to engage in agriculture, construction and trade.
6) He built his own village, with a complex hierarchy, its own economy and an underground mafia, where he keeps all the villagers under iron grip.
7) Every five minutes:
<Octo_businessman> fell from a high place.
<Octo_businessman> tried to swim in lava.
<Octo_businessman> was blown up by creeper.
<Octo_businessman> was drowned.
<Octo_businessman> starved to dead.
8) If one of the players hits or kills an squid in front of Him, He will take it as a personal insult.
9) The only one on the server who goes to bed on time and swears at everyone in the chat, because he cannot miss the night while others are awake.
10) Chief of food, armor and potions (Not for free, of course)...
11) Tries to negotiate with the pillagers.
12) Most likely, his house is either a clumsy box decorated with vines and blue flowers, or a huge penthouse with twenty rooms. There is no middle ground. Also, it seems to me that his house would be somewhere on the beach, or in the middle of the lake.
13) Drowned people are his worst enemies.
14) Makes secret chests with all sorts of treasures that he clearly does not intend to share.
15) Already dug up all the gold and ransacked all the treasuries, while the others fought with the ghasts and withers.
16) He comes into the game the least often, because “I actually have my fill of things to do.”
17) He is afraid of dolphins, because he personally knew real ones and knows that they are not the friendliest guys (No, seriously. Dolphins are assholes. Just Google it).
18) Terrible in PVP and always dies first.
19) He says that He doesn’t care about griefers and considers their tricks to be child’s play, but in reality, he is very offended and complains to Yuu in PM on discord.
20) Likes to play in small groups of 2-3 people and does not like to play alone or with too many players.
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(A SMALL UPDATE! Previously, this post was dedicated only to Azul, but I decided to make two characters for each post, for beauty, so I'll add another Lilia from the request here.)
[Lilia]
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Lilia has been familiar with Minecraft since the game's inception:
1) "Ha-ha, I love adventures!"
2) Competes with Idia, who spends more time in the game and brazenly takes advantage of the fact that fairies do not need sleep as much as people (even the cursed).
3) Daddy's house is either a cave full of vegetation and bats, or there is none at all, since Lilia prefers to roam the entire server. Usually wanders the world on a fast black horse in leather armor painted green, but often runs on His own two feet.
4) He named His horse Samson.
5) He is constantly accompanied by bats.
6) During His adventures, Lily has found many interesting resources and items, and in order not to carry everything with Him, He makes ingenious warehouses with traps, which the entire server covets.
7) Sometimes takes other players on His campaigns. For example, Malleus, Sebek, Silver, Idia and Yuu.
8) Thunderstorm of PVP. Want to fight Him? Good luck.
9) Seriously... You will need luck VERY much.
10) His favorite biomes are forest ones. He hangs out especially often in Taiga and Tundra.
11) The second admin and dad of the server, who suggested Idia the idea of ​​creating a world for the rest of the Twst guys.
12) The most secretive player on the server after Idia. In most cases, He disappears somewhere far, far away, but occasionally, He can be found bargaining with other players, sitting in a tree, or on a campaign. He also likes to play pranks and make fun of other players.
13) For some reason, all the monsters in the area ignore Him, or quickly run away.
14) Collects records (He especially likes "Ward" and "Pigstep").
15) His favorite soundtracks from the game are "One More Day" and "Firebugs".
16) Lilia has already cleared out all the treasures, sunken ships and pyramids, and in order to further annoy other players, He usually leaves signs next to the empty chests saying “Lilia Vanrouge was here :3”
17) Didn’t go to the End because caught flashbacks because of the dragon.
18) Was the one who informed Malleus that a dragon egg cannot be hatched and raise a baby dragon, and without knowing it, he regrets it.
19) Helped Idia find suitable mods for hatching and taming the dragon :D
20) "Silver, bring Your old man a glass bottle of water..."
...And then He goes off to brew an invisibility potion so he can shoo away and banter other players around with an evil giggle.
If you like My post, please reblog Me! :3
Also, if You want a doodle and headcannons for some other twst character, I will be happy to answer Your requests. They are open :D
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imshii-kin · 6 months ago
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Good Luck
Chapter # 4 As Sweet as Sugar Cookies
Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader
Wattpad
Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 (You are here), Chapter 5, Chapter 6
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Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. - Mary Poppins
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
"No," Tim says crossing his arms. "I have homework to catch up on, I can't play Minecraft with you right now."
Y/n frowns, "But Tim," she whines "Everyone else is busy, and I'm booored!" She complained while tugging at his shirt.
The boy rolls his eye at the young girl's antics, "Fine if I play with you, will you leave me alone?" Y/n nodded furiously.
With a tired sigh, Tim leaves his desk, picking up the game chip. "Thirty minutes, max, you got it?"
Y/n laughs happily, running out of his room and down to the lounging room. Tim smiles, a familiar warmth filling his chest.
_
Tim opens his eyes slowly, the early morning sky peeking through the curtains to greet him. A dream, a memory, a mix of both. Tim groans, what a mess this whole situation was.
Slowly, he lifted himself out of bed, checking his phone to see what time it was.
5:34 am
He let out another tired groan, it was too early to be awake. Sadly, he knew falling back asleep would be impossible. Slipping on some sweatpants, Tim makes his way to the kitchen to brew some coffee.
He makes it to the kitchen, tiredly grabbing the coffee grounds from the cabinet, and making his way to the coffee machine.
Tim watches the coffee slide into his mug, the smell of coffee filling the kitchen, before walking back to the cabinet to get some sugar. While he would usually drink his coffee black, he was in the mood for something sweet.
"Can I borrow the sugar when you're done?" A groggy voice asked him.
Tim jumps, swiftly turning around to see who spooked him. Y/n stands behind him with a bowl of Cheerios.
"..."
"..."
Tim sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Why are you up this early?" Y/n shrugged, "Couldn't sleep." She answered.
Frowning, Tim walks back over to the coffee machine, which has stopped brewing. Y/n watches, frowning at his lack of answering, before following.
He puts two spoons of sugar into his coffee, stirring it thoroughly, then passes Y/n the sugar. She mumbles a quiet thank you, putting a little bit of sugar in her cheerios.
Tim and Y/n sit with each other, quietly enjoying the silent Manor.
──●◎●──
It was early afternoon, and Y/n was sneaking some of the cookies Alfred had made. They were heavenly, light, and sweet, the chocolate rich and smooth.
Jason enters the kitchen, clearing his voice, and catching Y/n's attention. "Looks like I've caught a little thief," Jason smirked, Y/n giving him a wide-eyed look, knowing she was caught red-handed.
"...You can have Dick's portion if you don't tell."
Jason laughs, before nodding, "OK, deal." He walks over to Y/n, taking a cookie and biting into it. "Mmm~ They are as good as I remember." Jason chuckles, "Plus, Dick has enough sweets, I'm sure he won't mind me taking some of his."
"Oh? Really now?"
Y/n and Jason look at each other before turning around slowly facing the eldest Wayne. He had a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.
"You think I've had enough sweets? Can't help but feel like you're implying something, Jaybird."
Y/n makes a break for it, leaving Jason behind. "Wha- You Traitor!!" Jason yells as Y/n makes her getaway.
While running Y/n bumps into Damien, causing both of them to stumble. "What the- why are you running around the mansion? You're supposed to be with Alfred." Damion glares at Y/n, annoyed. She bashfully rubs the back of her head, "I was running from Dick," she admits, "speaking of which, do you know any hiding spots? I think I can hear him coming, he must have finished off Jason." Rest in peace Jason... again.
Damion deadpanned, "Seriously?" He blandly questioned. He grumbled when Y/n nodded, a pleading look in her eyes. Dick has been annoying him recently. So, Damien supposes helping Y/n would be a good way to get back at him. Nodding, he helps Y/n up. "I've got some places for you to hide. Follow me."
──●◎●──
Y/n and Damion hid in a small crawl space behind one of the larger paintings for around twenty minutes.
Sadly, Dick is very set on finding Y/n, so twenty minutes was not enough hiding time.
"I got you Y/n!" Dick picked Y/n up, a squeal escaping her as he spins her around. "I'm going to get you back for eating my cookies," he said playfully while carrying Y/n to the living room. Throwing her onto the couch, then trapping her in a hug.
"Let me go." She whined, trying to get out of his grip. Dick smiles, laughing at Y/n's misery, "No, you ate my cookies. Now you must pay the ultimate price." He cackled evilly.
Y/n frowned, "And here I thought you were a hero who believed in mercy." She said, giving him a betrayed and disappointed look, and making him laugh.
Bruce enters the room with a serious look on his face, instantly killing the mood. He looks at Y/n and Dick, before talking.
"Y/n, Clark is here to visit you."
──●◎●──
@rosecentury
Chapter 5
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plotsignificanthaircut555 · 2 months ago
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Honey Cappuccino with Cinnamon
Kento Nanami x Barista! Reader SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY
You get a new patron in your cafe, a dashingly handsome, well mannered, well spoken, Kento Nanami.
wc: 13k, whoops
Content: Smut, Fluff, comfort, kind of a slow burn, kissing (ooooo!!), sex, brief fear/violence (but not sexual), small curse appearance, cunnalingus, reader is female, smoking, swearing no spit (r u guys proud or disappointed), bad ending
Ao3, Masterlist, Coffee headcannons. dont reproduce my work or post it anywhere else. i came up with it out of my head. Enjoy.
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You loved your morning openings, most people would have preferred to sleep in, enjoy their mornings at home, take their time getting ready for the day, all while the sun was settled in the sky. But you loved waking up in the misty dark, walking in the clean, morning air, and setting up the cafe before the sun found its way out of bed. The hour and a half before the cafe opened felt like you were the only person in the entire world, total serenity. You could make your own coffee, just how you liked it, luxuriate in the smells of last night's prepped pastries baking to perfection in the oven, work at your own pace while listening to an audiobook or a playlist that you chose. It was the time you looked forward to most throughout the week; your perfect hour of bliss. Uninterrupted bliss. 
The ringing of the door chime was your indicator to return to reality and remember that the cafe didn’t exist solely for your own personal enjoyment, but was in fact a buzzing success. From 6 AM opening to 7 PM closing the cafe would see anywhere between 300-700 customers a day. The large majority of them just stopped in, ordering, and leaving upon receiving their coffee and scone or whatever it was they wanted. A handful you saw nearly every day. You, of course, knew their names, you were a professional. But your first rung of memory was always their orders. 
The gentleman that comes on his bike with his canvas backpack -- a double espresso with equal parts hot water to the espresso. 
The woman who comes with her daughters every morning -- two blended caramel frappes for them, three shots of espresso over ice in a large cup for her. (she pours a protein shake over it and mixes it together. She’s been trying to get you on it. You tried it once, she's onto something.) 
The college kid whose eye bags have doubled in size since they first came in. -- Iced americano, one more shot than you feel is ethical each time. 
Three shot soy latte guy, small decaf mocha woman with a fresh set of nails every time you saw her, long pull espresso always in a porcelain cup for the older woman with the faded purple lipstick, etc. etc. 
The mental list of orders must have been a mile long but you kept them all in your heart. You have seen people before job interviews, between shifts, between jobs, on breaks, days off, first dates, break ups, going to work, coming from it, anything in between. Second only to your sacred alone time, was the way you got to know the people who continued to come. Your position as a customer service worker was not without the obvious dregs of complaints and entitlement from the comers and goers, who never asked your name or about your day, and always had something wrong with their drinks, but it was all overshadowed by the kind faces you recognized so well. And nothing could compare to seeing someone for the second or third time, knowing you had secured another person a favorite coffee shop where they could feel comfortable and know that this small, but vital, piece of their life would be taken seriously and made carefully, exactly to their tastes. You liked giving people that peace, a little taste of your own. 
This morning when you opened, you got into the cafe at 4:30. Early for the 6:00 opening but you wanted to enjoy the languid morning hours a little extra today, and you did. You took your time setting the pastry display, straightening up the table, setting up the self service bar. Before you knew it, there was only a half hour left before opening. The large drip brewers were prepped, ready to fill the cafe with the rich smell of fresh coffee at the touch of a button, the last batch of lemon scones were in the oven, you had just finished counting the drawer for the register and were about to spend the last twenty minutes before turning on the open sign in sweet, perfect silence, enjoying your own favorite coffee when the bell chimed.
“We’re not open yet,” your eyes stayed closed, prepping for the first sip of your perfect morning indulgence. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. The sign is on, I didn’t realize.” A rich, oaky voice filled the echoey cafe. 
You opened your eyes and turned to face the voice. The owner of the voice was a tall man, over six feet, a full, broad figure clad in a tan coat over a dark blue button up. The outer layer couldn’t conceale the way his shirt stretched over his chest, buttons meeting, but just barely. A queer looking yellow tie spotted almost like a cheetah or a banana thankfully covered the higher up, more stretched gaps. But what struck you the most was his face, hard lined cheekbones, long, slender nose, hard set jaw, thin but full rosy lips, a set of unique green lensed glasses resting over his eyes. He was stunning, completely beautiful, the kind of beauty that could strike a god down to earth for the chance of love. You felt your throat tighten, your mouth fall open.
“I-uh, Sorry.” And yet you still couldn’t figure out how to respond. 
He took a moment to look at you, then checked his watch, pulling up his sleeve for you to see the joint of his wrist. Behind him you could see the white neon light of the open sign shining through the front window. Your face heated, mortified at how unprofessional you were being, gawking at him. 
“Oh. I am early-- I’ll come back. I’d hate for you to star----”
“No!” you interrupted, waiting just a touch too long before continuing, “You’re barely early, excuse my flippancy, please come in. What can I get you?” 
You took your place behind the counter, he moved to the other side of the counter, he scanned the menu board above your head, turning his chin up slightly, giving you a view of the muscles in his neck. Your mouth watered. You brought your eyes down to the screen in front of you, desperate to quiet the thoughts in your mind. 
“I really would hate for you to start work early. Especially for my sake I can wait outside.” 
“Don’t be silly! I couldn’t have you out there waiting when I can help you now.” 
You absolutely could, and had, on many occasions done exactly that. Letting the morning rush wait until operating hours no matter how early they wanted to “just squeak in super fast!”. But you wanted to keep him inside, bring him closer, give him anything he wanted. Hell, if he turned out to want all the money in the register you probably would have at least considered it.  
The rich voice filled your ears once again, “A cappuccino, please. With just a bit of honey, please.”
Great order, and so polite. 
“You got it.” You plugged it into the computer, the total appearing on his side of the screen, “dry or wet?” 
He cleared his throat abruptly, eyes wide behind the thick frames, “uh…?”
You didn’t realize how it came out, “more milk or more foam?” 
He collects himself, “uh wet, then.” 
You nod, “any preference of milk?”
“Whatever you have is fine.” 
You started the espresso grinder, the whirring filling the soundless air of the cafe, “this is a cafe, we have like six milks.” 
He nods, “right. Um…whatever you use I’m sure is fine.” 
You mirror his nod, “oat is, then. Anything else I can get you?” 
“One of those croissants, please.” He gestured to the pastry case, ten perfect flaky butter croissants sitting beautifully. 
“Great choice.” You smile, “I’ll get your drink.” 
You turned back toward the espresso machine as he moved to start paying on his screen of the register. You were grateful to have an excuse to turn away from him, away from the magnetism of him, to have something to focus on and hopefully regain an ounce of your composure. 
Nanami collected his breath, grateful to have your sparkling gaze out of his immediate eyeline. It takes more focus than would normally be necessary to complete his payment. Fingers trembling over the ‘no receipt’ button, his eyes drifted up again. The large espresso machine in front of you hissed and dripped the fragrant, rich liquid into the small espresso cup underneath. 
“Is this your first time in?” Your voice rang like a bell in the empty cafe, you were pouring milk into a metal pitcher as you spoke to him, not missing a drop. 
So much ease, precision, the routine of skilled work over years of honing, everything was perfectly measured, foamed, and stirred. You clearly took care in what you did, your hands were so still and even as you tipped the small fridge door open with your foot to slip the milk carton back inside. The brief scream of the milk knocked him back into his senses. 
“Yes.” He answered, hoping to keep his internal chastisement out of his tone. 
You nodded watching the milk whirlpool in its small silver pitcher, “I thought so. I don’t think I’ve seen you in before. I’m basically always here, and I think I would have remembered you.” 
A blush heated your cheeks, but you discarded it as steam, pulling the wand from the pitcher and tapping its bottom against the counter. You poured the honey sweetened espresso into a small to-go cup, and topped it with a fair serving of water before meeting the lip of the pitcher with the liquid so the foam could slide perfectly across. 
Nanami watched the smile slide across your lips, cheeks pulling upward, a satisfied sigh leaving you as you perfected the drink. His drink. His. 
He shouldn't be acting like this, he just stopped in to get a quick coffee before returning to the school. The last assignment had been grueling, he was only just finishing it. Talk about Overtime. This was ridiculous, he had been in an awful mood before walking in, miserably dragging himself through the doors of the first lit up cafe he stumbled across. And yet here he was, his previously drained heart beating, no palpitating, in his chest at just a few exchanges. You finally turned back around to face him, presenting the drink to him without its lid, letting him see the perfect line of dusted cinnamon across the foam cap. 
“Here you are!” You beamed at him, hoping to see a flicker of a smile or some kind of praise. 
He didn’t smile but you thought maybe you saw something soften in him. He accepted it across the counter, bringing it up to his mouth and taking a sip. Then he smiled. He couldn’t help it. It was perfect. Perfectly sweet from the honey, but still letting the robust bitterness of the espresso shine, the body of the oat milk complimenting the two perfectly, making the whole concoction taste like a cinnamon and oatmeal cookie that he’d indulge in in some private, anonymous, curseless cafe that he thought only existed in his mind. But he may have found it. 
“Wow. It’s excellent.” His lens-guarded eyes warmed at you through their green filters, “Thank you.” 
A chrysalis was twitching in your heart, “You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.” 
A moment passed as you waited for him to speak again, praying this interaction wouldn’t be over yet. The chime of the bell at the door broke you away from him, turning to see the beginning trickle of the morning flood enter. He was a nice enough guy, same thing every morning: four shots of espresso with two brown sugars in a porcelain mug that he would sit at one of the back tables in and read the morning paper no matter how ungodly early it was, but right now you wished he never dared step into your shop in the first place. When you looked back and saw the end of Honey Cappuccino’s motion to check his watch, he met your gaze once again. 
“Oh! Your croissant, I'm sorry.” You breathed out, kicking yourself for being foolish enough to think he was lingering to talk to you more, not waiting for the rest of his order.
“Right.” You heard from above you as you opened the pastry case. 
You retrieved the biggest, prettiest pastry for him and put it gently into a paper bag, straightening up to hand it to him. 
“No one going to work this early should go without breakfast.” You smiled, hoping to soften the blow of your unprofessional behavior. 
He nodded, accepting the bagged pastry, “Thank you, for indulging me so early. Next time I assure you I will be within the operating hours.” 
The chrysalis stirred again and you giggled its rhythm, “Don’t you worry. You come back anytime, okay?” 
He nodded again, before moving toward the door. You couldn't help the way your rubbernecked his exit all the way past the edges of the large shop windows. Turning back to the register and seeing your early bird regularly standing before you. Thankfully you knew his regular order by heart and could plug it in and nod through polite conversation without having to stop your rumination 
He had said Next time, implying he would come in again. You said a silent prayer to nothing that he would. At least so you could redeem yourself. So you could remind yourself and demonstrate to him  that you were a consummate professional. The rest of your day was spent smoothly, that tapping, fluttering feeling in your chest was quiet and still. You made drinks, cleaned and stocked the store, were courteous and charming with customers and coworkers alike. But you couldn’t get the man from this morning out of your mind, you didn't even ask what his name was. He would only be Honey Cappuccino Guy, for now, and that would have to be enough for now. 
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Nanami entered the school still nursing the last dregs of the cappuccino, savoring the taste of honey and the memory of you in tandem. The high of your interaction was beginning to wane, the head and body ache of a night of reconnaissance and curse slaying an albatros growing denser and denser around his neck. He longed to finish his report and head home as soon as possible, already budgeting the allotment of time that felt appropriate for an early afternoon nap before resuming the chores he had left unfinished at home in a rare act of laziness. He hadn’t eaten his croissant yet, finding it rude to eat on the train, and his stomach felt barren, it seemed every part of him was echoing in discomfort. An echo that was seemingly non-existent in the warm light of the cafe. 
He sighed, rounding the corner to the small extra room that had been designated as his “office”. Not being a member of the teaching staff at Jujutsu High, there was little necessity for him to have a space of his own on its campus. He could easily complete his necessary paperwork in the common areas, or even at home. But Yaga had insisted on marking one of the empty offices as his, with some encouragement from a certain white haired sorcerer. The dwindling number of active sorcerers in the area was certainly a motive to keep each other close. So Nanami obliged, stopping by for meetings, assignments; both at their beginnings and upon their completion.  
This last assignment had been grueling, extending too far into the night, he almost felt dishonest filling out the time card associated with the final report. Nearly twelve straight hours of traveling, hunting, and fighting. It was a miracle he wasn’t delirious. He stretched back in his chair, the lactic acid that longed to settle in his back and legs crackling and redispursing. He found himself again remembering the lilt of your voice, the smell of lemon and sugar and fresh roasted grounds in the air of the cafe. The sense of peaceful indulgence carried him through the next two hours of work before he could drag himself home to shed the day and pass out, dreaming amorphously about flaky pastries and kind expressions. 
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It would be almost two weeks before you would see him in the cafe again. You were restocking the milks in the small fridge underneath the counter that housed the espresso machine when the bell rang. It had been a dreadfully slow morning, mostly regulars and single, simple drink orders. It had given you plenty of time to clean, and fantasize. The large, well dressed man from eleven days ago hadn’t yet left your mind. His voice, his stature, his odd clothing, his demeanor. You were positive your memory had to have been generous the more and more you recollected the meeting, surely no one person could be so handsome. So charming, so, in the truest sense of the word, attractive. But when he stepped through your threshold once again, you found that your memory was ironclad. Tall, broad, sculpted features, odd glasses, leopard print tie, pristine styled hair, every detail of him was perfect. Your breath caught in your throat, but even that couldn’t interrupt the smile that widened on your lips. 
“It’s you.” you all but gasp out. 
He crosses toward the counter, a faint smile showing itself only on the edges of his lips, eyes wide and set on you, an expression you couldn't realize was mirroring your own awe. 
“You can say that about anyone. It’s always true.” His voice was just as smooth and even as before, you felt an all too familiar stirring in your chest. 
You laugh, “Good point. I didn’t expect to see you back. Thought I might have scared you off.” 
“Certainly not!” He can feel the burn in his cheeks, “You were kind enough to extend your hours for me. How could I not return to at least say thank you.” 
“Oh!” you chastised yourself for the twinge of disappointment you felt realizing he wasn’t here with any motive other than politeness, “It was no trouble really, it’s like the easiest drink in the world to make.”
He nods, “well, Thank you nonetheless, your work got me through the rest of mine.” 
You let out a low whistle, “That was one hell of a clock in time. Do you always go in that early?” 
“I was finishing up actually. Long project, I…lost track of time.” He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to provide you with more information, ordinarily he would dodge questions in their entirety. Truthfully he would ordinarily never be in this situation to begin with, never having been one for casual small talk.  
“Wow…that’s intense.” you couldn't imagine working such a strange schedule, what extreme hours like that must do to a person, “what is it you do?”
This is exactly why Nanami does not engage in casual small talk, does not approach topics that could lead back to sorcery or jujutsu or anything related to his job, why he does not talk to the pretty girl behind the counter. Because now he has to lie. His heart sinks, but he steels himself. 
“I'm a sort of exterminator.” He answers smoothly. Not technically a lie. 
You hum, seeing him stiffen; you’ve seen this before, folks can be cagey about their professions, and particularly assumptions made about them based on what they do, you knew when not to pry, “Hm. You must have to be on your feet a lot.” 
He’s grateful you chose a surface level observation instead of prying further. 
“Well what can I get for you today? Got another long one in the books? Should I break out the hard stuff?” You smile warmly at him, catching his eyes. 
It's then that you realize he isn't wearing those peculiar glasses that he had before. Thick green lenses absent, and amber eyes revealed in their stead. The outermost rings of his irises were dark, oaky brown, his lashes were long but faint, small freckles now visible across his nose and dappling the tops of his high, hollow cheeks. Not only was your memory not being generous, he had somehow become more handsome. You took in a shaky breath, trying to ignore the stirring inside of you. 
“One cappuccino with honey, please. Just the same as last time.” 
“You got it!” You tap the corresponding buttons. 
He pays with a card, a chime sounding as he taps against the reader. He is grateful for an excuse to look away, it feels like every time he looks at you, you’re looking back at him, so intently. He feels studied by you, hot under your gaze. He wonders to himself if the blush he feels creeping up the back of his neck is visible to you. Your smile earlier made it begin its journey from the warmth of his chest up toward the tops of his ears. His harness feels too tight, his jacket feels stuffy and restricting. He reaches up as you finish up the payment across from him and tugs his tie looser, routinely unbuttoning the first button of his shirt. It's then that he notices his hands are sweating. 
Fuck me. Pull it together. He pleads to himself accepting the receipt as you turn away.
Back facing him you begin weighing out the espresso, you can hear his footsteps as he steps off to the side. You catch your breath, gearing yourself up for your next move. The drink comes together quickly. Honey, espresso, steamed and frothed oat milk, a small dusting of cinnamon. You giggle to yourself about the cinnamon on the creamy foam mirroring the dusting of freckles along his face. God, you're pathetic. You roll your eyes at yourself and inhale. You turn back to the counter before stalling. He wasn't waiting at the counter and you had, once again, been too frazzled to ask his name. 
“Uh…H-honey cappuccino?” Your voice wavered weakly. 
He crosses over from the other side of the cafe where he had been admiring the community board, where local artists would hang their work, organizers would add flyers for local events etc. He traversed the room in three long strided steps. 
“I’m sorry, I usually ask for a name, I forgot.” You explained. 
He accepts the paper to-go cup between you, “It’s Nanami, thank you.” 
“It's nice to meet you.” You smile. 
“And your name?” He is quick to inquire. 
You tell him, smile widening, he nods and repeats it softly. He sips from the black lid, ignoring the initial shock of heat. It's just as perfect as before, a small sound of approval resonates from his chest, you wish it had less of an effect on you than it does. 
“It’s perfect. You’re very talented, thank you.” He offers a small, polite bow before sipping again. 
“Like I said, it's an easy drink.” you shy away from his compliment. 
“Well, I’m grateful.” He begins to step away from the counter. 
“Thank you. Have a good rest of your day.” You put on your most professional and least loaded smile, “Come by and see us again Mr. Nanami.” 
He nods at you, smiling as he turns and exits the cafe. 
And he did come by again. And again. And again. 
Beginning as once a week, then twice a week, soon he begins to factor a third visit into his weekly routine. Coffee the same every time, including sometimes a pastry; taking a particular liking to the ginger and poppyseed scones, and the oat and lemon frosted cookies, but more often than both leaving with a simple croissant. One some trips the conversation if brief; shallow, single day focused conversation topics: weather, traffic within the cafe, the pastry selection you had out that day. On other days he would ask you questions: when did you learn to make coffee? Have you always lived in this area? Etc. Some days you would be so bogged down with making orders upon his arrival that one of your coworkers would be the one taking his order instead. You quieted the rising jealousy as you heard your fellow barista giggle and swoon at his rich, staccato voice. On those days you would write his name cleanly on the side of his cup and make sure to linger at the drop off counter as you called his name for his drink. 
“Busy in here, huh?” You baited, handing him the steaming cup. 
“It seems my favorite secret cafe is not so secret anymore.” Nanami’s voice sounded truly disappointed. 
You faked insult, “You think you discovered this place? I’ll have you know we’re a local staple!” 
He let out a small laugh, sipping his drink and sighing, “perfect as always, thank you.”
“Of course Nanami, anytime.” You blush at his praise, it never gets old. 
“WIll you be here next Wednesday?” He asked. 
He had never asked for your schedule before. You tried your best to hide your excitement. 
“I will! I’m opening. So feel free to stop by thirty minutes before if you're desperate.” you teased. 
He let out a guilty laugh, “ Well, I'll see you then. Well within operating hours, I promise.” 
You nod, a bit too quickly, “Sounds good.” 
He smiled and nodded again, turning and exiting. 
Your favorite coworker who had been working the register approached you, following your eyeline as it tailed him out of the cafe. 
“Planning on asking him out soon?” She poked your side. 
“No way, Nanami?” You dismissed, “Yeah right, he’s just being nice.”
“Right.” She begins, “because he comes here every week because the coffee here is just that good.” 
Her tone is cutting and sarcastic, she pushes your shoulder lightly before returning to the register, leaving you to your own thoughts. You hadn’t considered the fact that he could actually be coming here for you, of course you hoped and fantasized about exactly that, but faced with someone else’s observation you felt…strange. Embarrassed and exhilarated. You wondered what would come on Wednesday. 
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“Thanks for taking me to coffee Nanami-san, You really don’t have to treat me!” Ino Takuma beamed as he walked into the cafe. 
He was beyond excited when his mentor had asked him to have a meeting today after training to discuss the upcoming recommendations. Nanami held the door for Ino as he babbled his way inside, reciting his thank yous over and over. 
“You’re welcome, Ino. I asked you here because I have something to discuss with you. Consider it an expensed lunch.” 
“Still! Thank you so much. I’m honored that you would make time for me, I know how demanding the schedule of a grade one sorcerer can be!” Ino continued, wanting to showcase how prepared he was to take on the demand himself. 
“Lower your voice,” Nanami chastized and pushed up his glasses, shielding his eyes as he scanned the population of the cafe. It must be a slow day, only three patrons to be seen. One sitting at the bar top, reading the newspaper, and a couple seated in the front corner, focused on splitting a pastry right down the center with a small butter knife. 
“Nanami!” 
Ino watched as the muscles in Nanami’s neck appeared. Not in frustration or exertion, the way he had seen so many times before, but a completely new reflex. Dare he think, excitement? He watched carefully as his mentor was urged forward by the woman behind the counter, the beautiful woman behind the counter. Nanami was quick to cross to the empty counter, Ino trotted behind with wide, watching eyes. 
“Good morning! It’s still morning isn’t it?” You smiled craning to see the wall clock. When you turned back your gaze fell to the slightly younger man behind Nanami. He was probably twenty or twenty one, his frame similarly toned and cultivated, hair shaggy and smile twinkling, “You brought a friend. Wait! Is this your brother?”
You looked closely between the two men, both handsome, both well made men with cut features and toned, imposing bodies. A similar height, a similar build. The younger man’s coloring was slightly darker; Nanami’s eyes amber, where his were deep oak, Nanami’s blonde hair contrasted against the other’s shaggy brown hair, but you could see where a family resemblance would reside. 
“No.” Nanami answers cooly, much to Takuma’s chagrin (despite its honesty), “Ino is an apprentice of mine, I’m treating him to lunch today because of his hard work.”
“Well, congratulations, it’s nice to meet you.  What can I get you both?” You smile, side glancing at Nanami. 
Ino blushes through his order, taken by how magnetic you feel when you talk to him. Privately watching how Nanami listens closely when you talk, uses his eyebrows more in his responses to you. You know his order, you sound flirtatious as you ask if he wants his “usual”, Ino sees as Nanami’s lips curl as he nods and selects two pastries from the case to accompany their lunch. Was Nanami…flirting? It seemed everytime you would turn your back, Nanami was catching his breath, and as soon as you returned he hung on your every word. Ino was beyond delighted, he had never seen this side of his mentor before. He watches as you complete the payment, fluttering your lashes and stringing your words together. When the order is complete he follows Nanami to a table in the back of the cafe.
“Ino, I wanted to ask you…”Nanami struggled with the next part of his request. He had found himself at a loss for what to do recently, feeling his standing with you plateau, “I hope you will forgive the candor of my question, In fact I- I am slightly embarrassed to even be asking you,”
“Go ahead, please. You have helped me so much, I’d be happy to try and help however I can. ” Ino had a growing suspicion as to what could have been the subject of his inquiry.  
“The…barista, what do you think of her?”
Nanami prepared himself for anything that could come next. Ino could laugh at him, Ino could laugh in pity before explaining that it was pathetic for a man of his circumstance to be entertaining the idea of a relationship. Ino could chastise him for reading into the kindness of someone who is actively working customer service. Ino could express his disappointment of not talking about the recommendations. He could call upon Nanami’s embarrassment for his own inexperience with flirtation. Nanami prepared himself to be exposed, shamed and cursed. 
“Oh! So you know she really likes you, I think she seems funny and smart. She’s really pretty, like really beautiful. I like her outfit, and hairstyle.” Ino began just as eager and delighted as he had been when Nanami invited him to lunch.  
“Wait, what do you mean she likes me?” Nanami’s brows inched together, although subtly. 
“Oh! Well, she smiles a lot when you talk and listens really carefully, and she called your name when we got here and…”
“That’s her job, she has to be polite and accommodating.”
“Sure,” Ino nodded, “But she seemed really interested in you, not so much with me. I don't know, I guess, but it just seemed like she liked you” Ino shrugged. 
Nanami was lost in thought as Ino trailed off. Could you really like him? Your encounters were so brief, he was so stilted around you, or at least he felt as much. You were accommodating and kind because you were good at your job, it was only natural that he recognized it as charm. He missed your call of his name, signaling the drinks he and Ino had ordered were ready. 
“I’ll get them!” Ino perked up, standing quickly and heading to the pick up counter. 
You pushed the two fresh drinks forward as the shaggy haired mentee approached the counter. He had the floppy stride of a well trained dog, bouncy and excited as he hurried over. 
“Thank you so much!” He beamed. 
“You’re so welcome, enjoy. Your food should be out soon!” You smiled back. 
“Hey, can I ask?” Takuma leaned in conspiratorially, “does he come in here a lot?”
You couldn't help but indulge the genuine curiosity in his voice, “A few times a week for about two months. How long have you been working with him?”
“About two years.” He answered, “I’m so glad too, he usually never takes someone under his wing like this!” 
You smiled, cocking your head to the side, “So he’s a big deal at work, huh?” 
Takuma nodded, “Oh yeah! He’s focused and hardworking, brave and careful.I hope to be half as skilled as he is one day.”
Your smile grew at the extrapolation. It was praise befitting of the man so dedicated to his work that he could be seeking out coffee at five in the morning at the end of his shift. The younger man nodded and couriered the drinks back over to the table. You thought you saw as Nanami’s eyes flashed over to you, but behind his glasses it was hard to be sure. You smiled all the same, just in case. You returned to your work, Ino and Nanami would both wave goodbye to you with mannered ‘thank you’s’ offered as they left after their meeting. You watched as Nanami held the door over his mentee’s head, ushering him out and looking back over to you. You looked away quickly, and when you looked back he was gone. Your lower lip settled in between your teeth, replaying your memories of him in a flash before returning your attention to the steaming milk whirlpooling in front of you.  
You didn’t see Nanami for three weeks after that. 
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You were today’s closer, your shift already dragging far into the afternoon. The morning crowd was tired, desperate, and reliant upon memorized routine above all else. Simple orders, simpler conversations. The evening crowd was far more likely to experiment. They are unpredictable en masse in a way that your morning regulars were not, making it so that you had to be that much more attentive when discussing menu options. Not only that but you also had to clean and secure all parts of the cafe before you could leave. On a usual day this is fine, although a complicated and oft tedious dance, but today it is much worse. Your usual array of alternative milks were on backorder meaning you were running out more and more with every order, with now replacements on their way. Also dwindling in stock were multiple menu items, including both pastries and lunch menu components, flavors, even lids for to-go cups had started to wane faster than anticipated. You recalled a conversation with your manager that ended dismissively about the coming weekend and how poorly you were prepared to do your job effectively. Your concerns had been barely acknowledged at the best and outright discarded at worst. Over the course of the last three hours you had had eyes rolled at you six times, had to remake a drink four times, been asked why your stock was so low ten times, and had to give one full refund to a customer who took it upon himself to reprimand you personally for the lack of options available to him. You tried your best to push through but the orders kept coming, and the wait times grew longer and longer, you weren’t making nearly enough progress. 
“Switch out?” Your coworker offers to you marking your wide, scared eyes gazing at the growing number of tickets. 
“Please.” You nod turning to operate the register instead. 
They nodded taking over at the espresso machine from where you left off. You approached the counter just as a woman stepped forward from the line. 
“Hello! What can I get you?” You smiled brightly. 
“Well, I don't know yet…”She was already frustrated, “I’ll tell you in a minute.” 
She turned her gaze upward to the menu board above your head, rolling her eyes on the ascent. It shouldn’t have, but it brought a hot burn of tears to your eyes. Sure, she was being condescending, but you dealt with far more pointed forms of belittlement on a daily basis. Somehow though, after the day that had already transpired, you had to choke back tears. You felt yourself shut down in order to keep from crying at such a stupid remark. You took her order without incident, asking only the necessary questions and issuing the payment efficiently. Upon retrieval of her receipt she left the counter. The tears were threatening to spill over as you sighed in relief. In an example of the universe’s kindness you saw your coworker approach, indicating to you that it was time for you to take your lunch break. You passed her quickly as she entered the floor, grabbing your bag and rushing out the front door in embarrassment. Or rather, you tried to rush out of the door. As you scrambled toward the threshold you collided with something hard, it felt like you hadn't bothered to open the door at all, study and unmoving. You bounced back, feeling a rattle in your bones as you tried to gather your senses enough to turn your head upwards. Two strong hands gripped you in place. You gazed upon the face above you, looking down with wide, green guarded eyes. 
“Are you alright? I didn’t see you, I’m sorry.” Nanami’s hands moved up your arms to your shoulders. 
You haven't ever seen his face so worried before, eyes carefully studying you, brows furrowed, hands hard on your arms, “I--i--Its been..”
Nanami sees the tears well up in your eyes, brimming and nearly spilling over, “Were you going outside? May I join you?”
You nod and he ushers you out quickly, holding the door before following in stride as you hurry down the sidewalk. He watched as you pulled a pack of cigarettes from your purse, drawing one forward, long and thin, and continued to dig inside the bag, growing more and more frustrated. Nanami pulled his own lighter from his jacket pocket, a pristine silver zippo with the characters of his name engraved at the base. He lit the end for you and watched you savor the first drag. Your eyes closed and your lips plump and pursed around the filter. When you opened your eyes and exhaled you offered him a cigarette from your pack, and he took one. Smoking the same cigarette as you made him feel close to you somehow. He lit it as you plopped down on a smoker’s bench two and a half blocks from the cafe. 
“Bad day?” Nanami asked after a beat or two.  
You groaned in response, resting your head on your hands and your elbows on your knees, cigarette dangling dangerously close to your hair. He nodded, suddenly feeling awkward and ill prepared to comfort you. You had probably left the cafe to be free of customers and work, and here he was following you. Shame rose in his chest as he realized his imposition. All the same, Nanami stood next to you, smoking silently, trying to offer you the space you needed, space he had already intruded on. The wind rushed past the both of you, the coming fall air carrying the cigarette smoke away. It seemed to trigger the raising of your head.
“Do you like your job, Nanami?” 
He was surprised. Not by the suddenness of the question but by the sincerity in your voice, and the defeated look on your face. The tops of your cheeks were wet, your eyelashes damp, the usual casual smile you carried now replaced by a deep frown. The sight tore at his heart, until now you had been a consistent source of joy for him, he never expected to see you in such duress. 
“No. I don’t.” He confessed, it was always relieving to be honest about his distaste for sorcery, he made no effort to conceal how he felt, but when he has to do it every day he finds himself pretending occasionally. 
You nod, understandingly, taking the cigarette between your lips and sliding over, for him to plop into the seat next to you and continue, “Well I love mine. I know it’s silly, it's just coffee. But, I don't know, I like seeing people everyday, talking to them, providing something they can enjoy and indulge in, no matter what happens over the course of the day. Something they can rely on for comfort.”
You shook your head, already starting to chuckle at yourself for how stupid you must sound. Before that feeling could take root, Nanami cut in. 
“It’s important. It isn’t silly at all. These people come to you to provide them with a service they can not provide themselves, something you have spent years perfecting for their benefit. You sustain people with energy, you allow them space to rest and stay cool, you offer a moment of kind conversation in a time when people feel more lonely than ever.” His voice stayed even, almost stern, as he spoke to you. 
You watched his face as he spoke, similarly stoic. He was being overgenerous, far too complimentary of your work in something as brief as a coffee stop. You knew this to be the case, it had to be. But, his words echoed the same romanticism that filled you when you had first started in coffee, you did like the idea of providing for people, you liked having a specialized skill, you genuinely cared when your customers engaged you in conversations or told you their problems, human connection was the main draw of the job. And it was why you loved it. You were able to connect with hundreds of people a day, if only for a moment. 
“What happened today?” He inquired further. 
You sighed, “Not any one thing. Just one of the bad ones. I hate disappointing people, and I disappointed a lot of people today.”
“So what?” He responds flatly, taking a drag of the loaner cigarette.  
You’re shocked, a confused laugh leaves you. 
“So what.” He repeats, “if they are disappointed, then they can get over it. Surely the next time they stop in you will take the great care of them that they are used to.” 
His voice is sincere; as though it’s the most obvious, logical line of thinking available. You wanted to defend how bad you felt, to slip into your habits of valuing the negative outlook rather than compartmentalizing. But you can’t, looking at Nanami, with his kind, intelligent eyes looking right back into yours, you’re struck by the heart of his words. You nod reflectively, considering all the situations today where you could feel the disappointment coming from a customer; each situation would be easily fixable when more resources or corresponding orders came in. You had plenty of experience diffusing situations like this, you would be able to fix them all eventually, and anything you didn’t get the chance to — was out of your hands. 
“Thank you.”
 Nanami watched as the smile returned to your face. Your eyes had dried themselves, your back stood straighter as you finished your cigarette and extinguished against the sole of your shoe. He had smoked much slower than you, he wasn't a frequent smoker anymore, an old habit that lingered from needing quick getaways from his former office, so the nicotine buzz was starting to swirl his head, he noticed a small tremor in one of his legs that he recognized as his limit. 
You tucked the butt of your cigarette into a small outer pocket of your purse. Nanami followed your motions, extinguishing his own and handing the double checked no longer burning butt to you. You tucked it inside the same pocket, holding them there to dispose of properly later in a real trashcan. Smoking was bad enough for the environment, you didn’t need to add litter to the equation. Some silly, overly whimsical part of you treasured the idea that the remnants of his mouth and the remnants of yours were in there together, getting cozy. 
He shared that thought with you, although privately. 
“How long is your break?” Nanami asked, wanting to scrub his mind of the thoughts of the indirect kiss between the two of you occurring in your pocket. 
You reached across his lap and took his left wrist in your hand pulling it over to you. His heart stopped, he didn’t dare breathe, immediately conscious of the smoke on his breath wouldn’t disturb you. You had never touched him before, excluding the collision that brought the two of you out here. Nearly three months of over the counter exchanges without a single instance of contact, broken here, with your warm, soft fingers touching the thin skin on the inside of his wrist. He watched your face as you looked at his watch. 
“About ten minutes left.” You sighed. 
You looked back at him, your hold on his arm had brought him closer, much closer than expected. You still held his wrist, his face couldn’t have been further than eight inches, you had never been at eye level with him before. You could see his face so much closer and clearer, you could see the pores on his cheeks, the discoloration under his eyes from overwork and lack of sleep, you thought you saw some deeper discoloration around the side of his eye, but brushed it off as shadow. Your eyes flicked down to his lips, thin and shapely, a full bottom lip with a soft rosy hue. When you met his eyes again you could see through his glasses, seeing that his eyes were trained on you  just as intently. You felt that familiar stirring and buckling in your chest that had become so synonymous with your feelings of excitement around him. He was so close, so focused on you, you felt intimidated, and observed. You released his rest, back into his lap. 
“Thank you, Nanami. I needed that.” You sighed, looking away from him, trying to break the growing tension between the two of you, “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, I promise I'm usually better at this.” 
Nanami shook his head, similarly thankful for the severing of intensity, “don’t apologize, I understand. I’m glad I was here.” 
You took in the sidewalk and the street, the cool early fall air around the pair of you, the weather was perfect. Beautiful sun, chilly air, the smell of coming evening rain. You stood, brushing the back of your pants off for any eager fallen leaves that you had been previously too frustrated to notice. He stood quickly to meet you, adjusting his coat and sleeves to busy himself. You two took another moment to adjust yourselves before locking eyes again. You offered him the kind smile he knew so well. 
“Are you ready to head back?” Nanami cleared his throat. 
You nodded, feeling much more grounded, and grateful for this moment of respite. You walked back together, not needing to exchange words, just simply walking side by side the all too short two blocks back to the cafe’s door. Once you reached the door Nanami stalled. Something in him changed, an aura you hadn’t seen in him before 
“Would it be okay if I came by later today?” He asked, not quite looking at you, but over you and into the cafe behind you. 
“S-sure, of course.” You felt yourself shrinking, the embarrassment of how vulnerable you had just been creeping in in a vignette, shading the moment of connection you had just shared with him. 
Nanami gave a clipped nod, looking around once more before turning his gaze down to you. 
“Okay. I’ll be back here tonight. Take care of yourself.” He nodded once more before turning and heading back down the street, 
“W-wait, did you want your coffee?” Your sentence began as a call but faded into a whisper as you realized he wouldn’t be turning around. 
You watched his silhouette descend the path, turning and disappearing into the city. You weren’t sure exactly what happened, what you had done or what had called him away. But before you could dwell too long you heard the voice of your coworker calling to you, asking you for help back on the cafe floor. You looked once more down the path that Nanami had left down, before returning inside to finish your shift. 
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The rest of the day passed as well as it could have, and regardless of how grueling it was moment to moment, the time passed anyway, and once the cafe had cleared itself and the hiss of the open sign was made silent, you found yourself alone. The bakers had completed their prep bakes for the next day, allowing them to cool in the large industrial freezers overnight, the other baristas had swept and mopped before clocking out and returning to their own homes. You stood behind the counter waiting on the espresso machine to complete its last cleaning cycle. Nanami hadn’t come back as he said he would, and while you were alone you didn’t feel like hiding your disappointment. You scanned through what you could have done wrong, everything you said, everything you did, suddenly all felt wrong and overly familiar. You’d scared him off. But scared him off from what, you couldn’t figure out. According to your coworkers, he was flirting, and you knew you were, at least to some degree, however fruitless you considered your efforts. 
You were too bogged down by your spiral to hear the shlucking sound coming from the back. The espresso machine's routine of purging and clicking was too loud for you to hear the store room push itself open. It wasn't until you heard the broken, amalgamated voice calling out that you felt the fear slash itself up your spine. You couldn’t decipher the words, they were too garbled, like that of someone underwater trying to speak to you through an AM radio. The pitch was too high for your ears, and too low to even exist. You stood completely still, no one else should have been able to enter the building, the only unlocked door was the front, large lights and plenty of people making it safer than exiting out the back. Some instinct in you was holding you completely still, restricting you from being able to turn around and see where the sound has come from. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t move, the only thing you could think about was your coworker set to open tomorrow, and what ungodly nightmare was she going to have to walk into. Tears fell from your eyes, the wetness of your cheeks snapping you out of your paralysis, your body shaking as you started to turn and face what was coming. 
“Don’t turn around.” Nanami stood in front of you, his usual tan jacket removed, moving his sleeves up his arms, his gaze locked behind you. 
Your breath found you again, chin quivering with fear and relief at the sight of him. 
“Close your eyes.” Nanami’s voice was darker than you had ever heard before.He looked completely different, intense and large and imposing, if you didn’t know him you could have been scared of him, “Trust me, you’ll be fine. Close your eyes.” 
You squeezed your eyes shut, immediately missing the comfort the sight of him provided. You heard a thunk, a grunt, a slash, and then nothing. 
“You can open your eyes.” Nanami’s voice came from right behind you. 
You turned around quickly, seeing him standing over a pile of knocked over cups and pitchers, holding what looked like a butcher’s knife wrapped in cow print fabric. His yellow tie that you had grown to admire as a symbol of him was loose around his neck. He was still looking down at the ground. Once he seemed satisfied with whatever it was, he looked back at you. 
“Are you alright?” He asked, sheathing the paddle looking blade on the brown leather holster on his back, you had never noticed it before. 
“What the fuck was that?” You couldn't help the tears that fell from you as your body started to shake harder and harder. 
Nanami put his hands on your shoulders, his grip tight and soothing, “I’m sorry you had to see that. But it’s gone now, I assure you.”
You couldn’t help yourself, you started sobbing falling against his chest. He held you tight against him, letting your tears soil his shirt and your body tremble in his arms as he held you firm. You wept until openly, feeling no shame, there was no room for shame with all the fear and adrenaline vacating your body. He made no move to quiet you or tell you to calm yourself, he simply held you close. 
“Can I take you home?” Nanami asked, his voice resounding from his chest where your ear was pressed. 
You nodded. 
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Nanami had started sensing the build up of cursed energy on his last visit before bringing Ino. It was faint enough that he couldn’t place if it was coming within or from the general street. On his subsequent visits he noticed it growing exponentially, building on itself in a way that was inching toward concern. His selfish motives for bringing Ino to the cafe were overshadowed when he picked up on it as well. Confirming Nanami’s suspicion that it was an internal problem, and one growing more and more dangerous by the day. Earlier today was the first time he had noticed its effect in action. You tear stained face, the disgruntled patrons, you fevered, overworked companions. He knew he had to intervene. He had come after closing hoping you had already gone home, hoping to take care of it quietly before it became a larger problem. It wasn’t until he saw you terror-stricken with a low level curse emerging from behind that he conceded he would have to tell you. He didn’t want you to have to experience any of this, you shouldn’t have to face the reality of this world, and the monster’s within it. You deserved the same ignorance as everyone else outside of sorcery. But it was no longer his decision. 
He walked you home, which wasn’t far from the cafe, and up to your apartment. You unlocked the door and stepped inside, he hesitated briefly before following you. These aren't the circumstances he had anticipated for his first foray into your living space, but again, it was out of his hands. 
“You said ‘it's gone now’, what is ‘it’?” You asked as you locked the front door behind you, check the peephole for anything out of order. 
Nanami sighed, “It’s…a lot to explain, most of it would be incomprehensible right away. It would take me hours to make it all make sense. And that isn't a slight against you, it’s because I know you're smart that it would only take that long.”  
Your voice was returning fully, the fear having left itself behind at the cafe, “Nanami, you knew. You knew that whatever it was was there, you…killed it? Drove it away? Would it show up here? Do I need to be worried about this thing coming here?”
“No.” he was quick to shake his head, “It’s dead. Well it wasn’t ever really alive, not really. But you don’t have anything to worry about, anymore. I’m sorry it got that bad.”
“Please just tell me.” You groan, “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
And he believed you. So he told you. 
It took nearly four hours, one and a half pots of coffee, and a few crudely drawn diagrams on the back of a take out menu that he drew. But eventually you understood that what had attempted to attack you was a curse, and that curse had likely been building over a series of months or maybe years before it reached this form. He was a sorcerer, a kind of soldier tasked with the exorcisms of these curses in an intensely guarded organization dedicated to keeping curses secret and the public safe. The young man, Ino, who he had brought with him is a sorcerer as well. He explained the rank of threat, and how yours was incredibly low for any skilled sorcerer, which apparently, he was. He showed you the blade he kept on his back, the one that had been hiding just below his jacket for the entire time you had known him. He explained to you how he was able to kill the curse in a single strike, how his technique worked. When his explanations had been completed you felt strange. Stuffed to the brim with new information, most of which terrified you and made you feel powerless against a threat you could have gone through your whole life without knowing about.  But a part of you felt good, knowing there were people kind enough and skilled enough to make this an insular problem, one that did not necessitate the knowledge of the general populace out of sheer humility. 
“I understand that this must be a lot for you to take in. But, I promise you that what attacked you tonight will never show its face again. I can give you a talisman, something to keep in the cafe to keep it safe from future curse development.” Nanami had taken off his coat and harness, his blade lay on your coffee table alongside his glasses and your purse. 
“Was that why you left so quickly today?” It may have been a silly thing to inquire about in the wake of so much life changing information, but you couldn’t hold your tongue. 
Nanami nodded, “I had to run back to my..boss basically, and get a formal assignment to exorcise the curse. I’m sorry I left. I didn’t want to. When we got back the energy was too strong, I knew I would only have a few hours.” His apologized, setting his nearly complete coffee cup on the table, “But I had to make sure that nothing happened to you,” after a beat he adds, “or your coworkers.”
“So you, you saved my life tonight.” You whispered. 
The front pieces of his hair had fallen out of their usual styling, they now hung in front of his face. Through the sandy strands you met his eyes, looking tired and locked with yours. The faint bruise on his brow suddenly made sense, the bags under his eyes, the serious demeanor, it was all recontextualized. You didn;t stop your hand when it traced your middle finger over a small, well healed scar along his eyebrow. 
“I wouldn’t say that.” Nanami conceded, usually not one to accept praise for his work. 
“Nanami you saved me.” Your hand cupped his cheek, “I would be a mess for someone to clean up tomorrow morning if you weren’t there.” 
He was speechless, your hand on his cheek was warming as heat crept to his face. Your eyes were so big and beautiful, your lips looked so soft as they shaped your gratitude. 
“Thank you.” 
“I’m glad you’re okay.” Was all he could choke out. 
You had read about this. After near death experiences, or other instances of extreme adrenaline, the body could have all kinds of after effects; nausea, sleeplessness, exhaustion, arousal. The arousal coursing through your body was a natural side effect of what you had just been through, and what was right in front of you. He had been there watching over you, keeping you safe from threats you couldn't even imagine. Every day he returned was another day that he was caring for you, protecting you, trending to you. His skin was smooth and hot under your touch, the hair of his sideburns was soft under your fingers, it felt like every nerve in your body was turned up to a thousand. The quick hatching chrysalis was nearing its emergence, it was so still as you leaned closer to him. 
“You must be tired. I can go, if you need to sleep.” His resolve was faltering. 
“If you aren’t busy, I know it’s been a long night,” Your hand traveled down to his shoulder, the barrier of his shirt helping him regain some sense, “I think I would sleep better if you were here. Just for the night?”
The cock of your head and the flutter of your lashes made your offer clear. Nanami’s cheeks became more pronounced as he tried to swallow down the burning desire to have you right here. But he, too, had read about the aphrodisiac effects of adrenaline. He knew that there was a chance that your gratitude and your exhilaration were converging inside of you to make you feel like you wanted him, when you were actually just happy to be alive. 
He put his hand on your arm, “Sometimes, when someone has been through something like what you have, they may look for…other forms of excitement to help with the adrenaline dump…it’s very natural..”
The back of his neck was hot, his shirt felt too tight, his pants felt much too tight, his mouth was so wet he risked drooling right in front of you. But he couldn’t take advantage of this moment, it would be wrong. He liked you. Ino claims you liked him, but he doesn’t know for sure, it would be deplorable for him to act on this offer without knowing if this is something your right mind wanted. 
“I’ve read that before.” You nodded, looking at his hand wrapped around your forearm, he was so big, “I’ve never experienced a curse before.”
He nodded along with you, still watching your mouth move. 
“But, I’ve experienced attraction before, Nanami. I know what it feels like to want someone. And I want you.” You told him, pulling your legs up under you on the couch.  
A small shake from his head, “It’s just psychosomatic. You’ll feel better in the morning, or after a shower. It’s the adrenaline.”
“I don’t think I had excess adrenaline the morning you came in first. Or the next time, or earlier today outside. Nanami,” You dipped your head down to look up at his, “Nanami, please. I’ve been too scared to say anything, I didn’t want to seem unprofessional or scare you. But, I like you. I really like you, I think you're gorgeous and kind and funny. You’re brave and smooth and a little weird, but I like that.”
He scanned your face for signs of lying, twitching eyes, avoidant eye contact, swallowing, anything that he could rely on to keep himself from getting exactly what he wanted. But he found nothing. Nothing to let him off the hook of being honest about how he felt. 
He let out a heavy breath, his hand on your arm growing tighter, “I fell for you the moment I walked in. Everytime I went back I went for you. To see you. I think you’re so beautiful and charming. I don’t want this to be wrong.”
You shook your head, your hands returning to his face, the one he had on you now moved to the back of your couch, “It’s not wrong. Nothing about this is wrong.”
He grips your hands, looking you right in the eye. You see his pupils have grown wide, you can feel the sweat on his palms, mixing with your own on the backs of your hands. He held you right in front of him, looking over every inch of your face. You were gorgeous, His heart pounded in his chest, like it was reaching for you. He let out a grateful breath. 
“Thank god.” He couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could you. 
The both of you leaned forward in the same moment, meeting at the perfect center of both pursuits to press your lips together. The chrysalis inside of you hatched, the beating of your heart, the flapping of wet, quickly drying butterfly’s wings. He touched your neck, downy hairs at the nape of your neck soft under his fingers. He was quick to pull you by the waist into his lap. His tongue was smooth on its entrance into your mouth, tasting the underside of your own, the backs of your teeth, the coffee you had shared. The kiss was heated and smooth, personal styles learning to blend together. Your arms wrapped around his neck, hands in his hair, over the back of the couch, anywhere to offer you stability. Nanami’s hands gripped your waist, sliding under your shirt and feeling the first of the body he dreamed of. Kicking himself in the privacy of his own home for thinking of you so disrespectfully. But in your home, on your couch, with you in his lap, he wanted to worship you. The hands he had cursed for pleasuring himself to the thought of you were not reverent as they felt your hips, your ribs, the sensitive flank inbetween. He could feel your shiver as he made his way back and forth, you were sensitive there. He was toying with you, relishing in your hissing inhales, and your breathy moans. But you were never one to be toyed with, you tested a personal theory of yours, one you had formulated with your hand in your panties on nights when sleep wouldnt come and you looked to your own devices to tucker yourself out. You scratched your nails across the cropped undercut at the back of his neck, gripping and tugging at the hair. Nanami let out a strangled moan underneath you, his hips bucking into yours, and his hands gripping you tighter. Just as soon as his mouth left yours, he found your exposed neck, kissing, practically lapping at the skin there. This pulled the more embarrassingly pitched moans out of you. High whimpers as you keened against him in his lap. 
“You’re so beautiful, you’re so good, fuck.” He peppered his praise in with kisses along the column of your throat. 
You haven't heard him swear before now, the words fell from him so easily. He was clearly practiced, it made you wonder what other sides of him came easily that you hadn’t yet seen. 
“Yu-you are,” You could feel your brain covering itself in honey, the saccharine sweet feeling of him under your, on you, all around you, consuming your ability to think. 
You felt him smile against your skin, pulling off of your neck and sliding his hand around to the back of your neck. 
“I-I don’t do this very often, it’s been a while, please don't tease me too much.” This was the softest you had ever heard him, his voice was breathy and it almost came out as a beg. 
You looked down at him sweetly, his hair mussed across his forehead, buttons of his shirt seeming to have undone themselves, tie falling to either side, his chest flush in splotchy red patches. He looked stunning, the light of your living room you had previously considered unflattering, was golden hour. 
“We can take it slow, if you want.” You offered, wanting to accommodate him, the way he had already for you. 
He shook his head leaning forward and readjusting you on his lap. When he settled you back down you realized the reason for his frantic reaction. The very big reason. The pants tenting, hot, probably leaking, reason. 
You nodded, quick to understand. You leaned forward to kiss him again, making sure to grind yourself down in his lap before pulling off completely and grabbing his hand, tugging him behind you. Nanami felt drunk following you to your room, found himself almost stumbling as he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. He crossed the threshold to your bedroom where you had already pulled your work pants off, standing in only a thin tank top and your panties. You approached him with mock disappointment and your bottom lip between your teeth. You moved your hands over his chest.
“I wanted to be the one to take off your shirt,” You cooed. 
Nanami’s hand found the lapels, “I can button it again if y--”
You giggled, “Next time.”
Before pulling him into another deep kiss by his neck. His hands found your hips, eager to slip one finger under the top of the waistband and feel the hidden skin. You slid his shirt down his shoulders, the tie falling along with it. Your lips smacked together over and over as you both tried to touch as much skin as was available to you. You pawed at the hard lines of his back, feeling ridges and valleys and muscles. He, similarly, was quick to find the hemline of your shirt and slip underneath. You both let out a haughty moan as he cupped one of your bare breasts. IF you had had your eyes open, you would have seen his eyes roll back in his head as he slipped his tongue between your lips once again, squeezing the tit in his hand. You freed your arms and pulled the shirt over your head as he undid his belt. 
“You’re so gorgeous.” Nanami gazed over you. 
“You’re gorgeous.” You echoed, hopping on to the bed and watching him pull his grey slacks down his legs. He wore a pair of navy colored briefs that hid almost nothing, especially the nearly black splotch of precum that had accumulated. 
“Fuck, you’re hot.” You marveled at him, his body, the evidence of the effect you had on him, his face, him, all of him. 
Nanami sucked in a quick breath, fighting his embarrassment by looking at the hungry look on your face. You were nearly naked on the bed, waiting for him. You had only your panties on, your chest exposed, nipples once puffy now hardening with excitement. Eyes trained on him, mouth panting and swollen from his kiss. He could see a small bruise forming on the side of your neck, he would apologize in the morning, flowers or breakfast, but for now it was all his to admire. He joined you on the bed, climbing over your body to do so. His torso caged you in completely, wide shoulders shadowing over your frame. He pulled you by your thighs. Taking time to stretch your legs and admire the muscle and skin and fat that made up your gorgeous form. He seemed impressed with your flexibility, at least the little click of his tongue indicated as much. His clothed cock pressed right against your panty clad pussy, both hot and begging to be aligned. He pressed his hips a little as he brought one of your ankles to his lips, kissing the ball, then up the calf. You moaned at the wet kisses, relishing in his affection. He looped his thumbs into your panties, releasing your leg so he could pull them from your legs. Nanami caught your eyes before spreading your legs in front of him, you gave him the go ahead and he sank before you, aligning himself to see your pussy spread open for him. If he wasn't drunk earlier, he was now. Sticky, dripping, gorgeous. He couldn’t hold back, he licked a long, wet stripe up you slit, tasting his first of you. 
Your body was on fire, completely electrified, and weightless underwater all at once. His tongue made its home between your labia, sharp nose being buried in your mound. Your back arched off the bed as a wanton moan left your wet mouth. Your hand flew to his hair, finding a grip for you to cling to. Your other hand held your breast. Nanami’s tongue flicked itself up and down, kissing your clit, drawing out more and more arousal from your dripping hole. 
“Fuck, you taste so good.” He says, soft enough to be just for himself. 
You can't respond, only mewl as he sucks at your clit. You release your breast and grip on to the headboard, accidentally pulling yourself away from him. Nanami grabs your hips and pulls you back onto his tongue. 
“Come back.” He mumbles, again, almost to himself. 
“N-Nanami, i-..”You are cut off by another harsh suck to your clit, his tongue circling inhumanly. 
You were so close, it usually would have taken you much longer to orgasm but the excitement coursing through your body and his skill had turned you to keening, pathetic putty in mere minutes. He flicks his golden eyes up at you, watching you start to unravel. He knows what to do, or rather what not to do, he carries on exactly as he has been, every flick of his tongue pulling you down further. It became too much, and you bubbled over. You cried out in white out pleasure, pulling on his hair. Your legs clapped around his head. He drank up everything you gave, your moans upsettingly muffled by your flesh over his ears. 
When he felt you relax again, he pulled his mouth from you, a thick, gossamer string of spit and cum connecting from his lips to your pussy. The hand from his hair fell to his face, pairing nicely with his blown out eyes and fucked out expression. He caught his breath while looking over your body, your full breasts, your tummy rising and falling as you caught your own. He moved over you once again, kissing you deeply. He tasted like you, his tongue was heavy and hot in your mouth, his hands were fast to rid himself of his underwear and pull your legs over his bare hips. You could feel the length of his cock pressing against your throbbing, overly sensitive cunt. Your outer lips, now much more sensitive from Nanami’s expert work. 
“You’re amazing.” You gasped out against his mouth. 
He hummed pridefully, kissing you again. He grinds his hips hard, hoping to prepare you further for what's to come, but he miscalculated, a rare occurrence. Both of you let out long, glorious moans as he pushes himself inside of you, all the way to the hilt. Nanami shudders briefly before gaining his strength back, you dig your nails into his back, but he cant feel anything except the pulsing of your pussy around him. He may never be able to think again, not of anything other than having the hot velvet muscle between your legs tight around his cock. You whimper at his penetration, feeling him press the deepest parts of you. Tip of his cock kissing your cervix, just as passionately as he kissed you. He was not a small man by any measure, and the entirety of his cock probably made up close to eight inches, with the girth to burn as it stretched you open. 
Which he did again, catching your panting lips on his own, quick kisses between caught breaths as you both adjusted to the feeling of being joined together. He pulled his hips back, pulling a shaky moan from you, and pushed in once more. Somehow he reached even deeper than he did before, his cock arching up to press that beautiful, spongy spot inside of you, the spot that made you clit throb and your eyes squeeze shut. 
“Look at me, baby.” Nanami pleaded, “I wanna see your pretty eyes.”
Your eyes flutter open, a drunken droop to the lids as he thrusted again. He found an even, well paced rhythm. Kissing you occasionally, when one of you wasn't gasping out in bliss. Your hand moves up one of his arms, gripping his taut bicep and his sinewy shoulders. He pressed his forehead to yours, looking down your body to see his pelvis meeting yours. His cock throbbed inside of you at the sight, in turn making your walls grip him tighter. You pull him back to your lips, wanting to be consumed by every sensation he could give you. His hand by your head grips the pillow hard, ripening a hole in the casing. You move your hand up to meet his, holding it and interlocking your fingers. His grip softened instantly, becoming as sweet and generous as ever part of him had been already. You felt him twitch inside of you once more. Followed by a choked moan. 
“I-i, baby I,” Nanami struggled to get his words out as he drove himself further and further into you. 
“Please, Nanami, please.”You held him closer with your thighs, purring out his name. 
“I didn't put on a condom,” He struggled to collect himself, he knew he could be responsible with you, “I should..”
“Dont pull out,” You whine, sounding more pitiful than you intended, “please Nanami, cum inside me, please.” 
He finds your eyes quickly, his heart melting at your big watery pleading eyes. You swollen lips, you drooping, drooling mouth. How could he deny you? Nanami made quick work of chasing his own climax, thrusting harder, fucking faster, holding your body still underneath him. You feel every thrust in your throat. His pace quickens and his thrust become shallow and choppy. Nanami lets out a delicious, languid moan as he cums. You can feel his thick cock depositing load after load of cum into you. An elongated, uninterrupted E sound. He holds you at your hip and when your hand still holds his. His face is now buried in your neck. Your legs are slung over his hips along with your other hand over his shoulder. He thrusts twice more before stalling, having emptied himself, but not yet gathered the desire to pull out. When he finally comes to, he releases your tender hip and pushes himself up from above you, looking down at you. You pant up at him, taking in a post-coital vision of him you never expected, and he, the same. He flushed, sweaty, messy, drool and cum drying on his chin, hairstyle ruined by your grasping. You imagine you looked just as disheveled by half as gorgeous. Nanami, would of course, disagree. He kisses you again, soft and deep. When he finally pulls himself out of you he takes the spot to the right of you in bed. You lie together, allowing your bodies to return to a blissful equilibrium. You roll onto your side, moving a hand over his stomach. 
“So you’ll stay the night?” you gave a sly smile. 
And he laughed. Truly laughed, before kissing you again deeply. 
And he did stay the night. After a quick shower the pair of you returned to bed and slept soundly in each other's arms until he got up before the sunrise to make it back to his apartment with enough time to change before work. He kissed you goodbye and assured you he would come by the cafe. And he did, he met you right at the end of your shift, a bundle of flowers in one arm. He invited you to a home cooked dinner at his place. You were surprised at his determination to make you an established couple, but not even close to put off by it. 
“I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I am about to start a new assignment and it’s shaping up to be a lot of work. I may be indisposed for a few days. I’d really like to see you again before then” He explained as he walked you home. 
“I’d love to,” You giggled, kissing his cheek and admiring the bouquet he had picked out, “Where are you going for your assignment?”
“Shibuya.”
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OOOOOOOOOOO SURPISE, anyway hope yall like it and came good. Love you all, thanks for 150 followers. Also im on my barista high horse a little, but just be normal and nice to people, and if you'd tip a bartender, tip a barista. it's the same job. I hope this was worth the wait. I have work in fiv ehours. -Doodle.
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snitchcrimsonwrites · 6 months ago
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Maybe pt. 8
Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint
Former friends to a relationship?
Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.
Following the council meeting and Norm's reassignment, the two of you are enjoying a quiet evening together when a single question threatens to dredge up a whirlwind of emotions.
Part 1 Here. Part 6 Here Part 12 Here
Part 2 Here Part 7 Here
Part 3 Here Part 9 Here
Part 4 Here Part 10 Here
Part 5 Here Part 11 Here
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Norm was convinced you thought he was a lunatic. 
 One minute, the two of you were relaxing on the sofa. Norm‘s head resting against your lap while you read. The occasional brush of your fingers through his hair threatens to lull him to sleep. The next, he found himself unable to stop ranting and raving, all because of a simple question. How did everything go today? The book you were reading was long since discarded to the side as you gave him your full attention. He went on detailing the events of his day, from his “reassignment” at the council meeting to his first interaction with the raiders locked in the vault reading room. You didn’t interrupt, though he wasn’t sure he could have stopped even if you had. His frustrations with the council and whatever happened in the Vaults were not subtle. Norm always appreciated the candor you two shared when it came to communication. Still, he couldn’t help feeling some unease divulging all of these feelings, unsure of how you’d respond. 
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, putting his hand on his forehead and moving to sit upright. “Seeing how we treated them today, with food and kindness, just sent me over the edge.” Nothing about this situation with the Raiders felt right to him. Four square meals a day and a soft bed weren’t exactly punishment; how was no one else seeing it? 
“Cause it feels like the opposite of justice…” you validated after listening to everything he had to say about his punishment from the council and the situation he experienced with the Raiders. 
“Yes,” his tone laced with utmost seriousness. “We watched people commit some of the most heinous acts we could imagine, and now we’re expected to be the bigger person and move on?” 
You felt the weight of the shared resentment settles between you, the reality of the situation pressing heavily on your shoulders. Memories of recent events resurfaced with a vengeance, emotions that had been buried away over the last few days trying to escape. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the feelings of pain and anger were already seeping out uncontrolled. 
“For god’s sake, I had to kill a man with a pipe wrench the other day, and the council just wants to…” you stopped short, your words hanging before you like a poison in the air. You had avoided saying it out loud since that night, hopeful it would help you forget having to come to terms with the actions you took. 
Norm’s eyes widened with surprise. You had implied what had happened after the two of you were separated down Vault 32’s corridor, but he never pressed you for details you weren’t ready to share. He figured you were still processing your actions from the night of the raid but taking another life to save your own- a decision forced on you because of someone else's actions. He knew this was your nightmare scenario. Of course, you both had been reeling this entire time; how had he not noticed until now? He copied your gesture from the days before, offering his hand and intertwining it with yours with a squeeze. You took another deep breath, your eyes locking with Norm’s, raw with shared pain and anger. 
“You shouldn’t have been there alone, and I’ll always hate that part of myself for that.” 
“Don’t, you know full well how rushing into that situation would have gone. We’re here now.” You leaned in, pressing your forehead against Norm’s, a gesture of solidarity and unspoken promise. “We’ll get through this, Norm. One step at a time, together.”
The two of you continued this way throughout the evening, seamlessly shifting between playful banter and serious discussions. There were moments of shared laughter and tears, with deep emotions surfacing. As the hours passed, you both gradually moved from the couch to sprawling across the living room floor. Norm ended up lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, while you found a comfortable spot on your stomach.
“Your turn,” Norm says, encouraging another round of the question game you’ve been playing.
“Hmmm, if you could go back to before and experience one thing, what would it be?”
“Come on,” Norm groans, “there’s no point in...”
“Oh, please. At least try to be a little fun,” you tease.
He laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine.” He couldn’t help but give in to you. Norm ponders for a minute. “Maybe getting to experience an arcade or comic shop in their heyday, the way they’re portrayed in movies at least. Atomic Command on the Pip-Boy is only so entertaining; something new would be fun. Plus a day to do something I enjoy, with no obligations, maybe meet people who like the same things as me. What about you?”
“The national parks,” you answer immediately, without needing to think. “All of them, any one of them, wouldn’t matter. Even just sitting there to experience them with all my senses, that would be my day,” you say, conjuring up images from the picture books you read as a kid.” It’s heartbreaking seeing how we just squandered... never mind, we don’t need to end tonight on a sour note.”
Norm nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, well, at least we’ve got these moments now. I guess that counts for something.”
You smile, feeling a sense of connection. “Yeah, it really does.”  You stretch and move to stand while announcing, “It’s getting late; I should probably head out.”
“I’ll walk you you back.” 
“Such a gentleman,” you gush, heading out the door. Norm laughs. “I think that’s a sentiment only you and my mom would share.” 
“Well, your mom and I have excellent taste,” you reply with a wink. “Aside from your wit and charm, you’re incredibly thoughtful and caring, Norm. One of the many reasons I enjoy spending time with you.”
He grins a hint of bashfulness in his eyes. “Thanks. You know, you’re pretty amazing yourself. You have this way of making even the simplest moments feel special.”
You feel a warmth spread through you at his words. “That means a lot, Norm.” 
As you both reach the door of your living quarters, you turn to face Norm, a smile resting on your lips.
“Well, here we are,” you say softly.
“Yeah,” Norm replies, a hint of nervousness in his voice. He hesitates for a moment, then takes a deep breath. “Can I... can I kiss you?”
Your heart flutters at his question. “I’d like that,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
Norm steps closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. Seeing none, he gently cups your face with his hands and leans in. The world seems to slow down as his lips meet yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It's soft and sweet, filled with the promise of more shared moments.
As you pull back, you both smile, your foreheads resting against each other for the second time this evening. “That was nice,” you say, your voice filled with warmth.
“Yeah, it was,” Norm agrees, his eyes shining with happiness. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”
“Goodnight, Norm,” you reply, feeling a contented glow as you watch him walk away. 
—------------------------
Norm is lost in thought, walking home with a faint smile on his face. He rounds the corner of the hallway leading back to his living quarters and nearly collides with Betty Pearson.
“Whoa, Norm! Didn’t see you there,” Betty exclaims, steadying herself.
“Sorry, Betty,” Norm replies, snapping back to reality. “I didn’t see you either.”
She raises an eyebrow and glances at her Pip-Boy. “It’s pretty late to be out for a walk, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I was just, uh, walking a friend home,” Norm says, trying to sound casual as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.
Betty’s eyes narrow slightly, a knowing look crossing her face. “I’ve noticed you and (Y/N)  have been spending quite a bit of time together lately.”
Norm shifts uncomfortably, not wanting to reveal too much. “Yeah, we’ve been hanging out. She’s good company.”
Betty smiles, but there’s a hint of something more in her expression. “That’s nice to hear. It’s important to find good company these days. Just remember, people are always watching. It’s easy to lose track of time when you’re with someone special.”
“Thanks, Betty. I’ll keep that in mind,” Norm replies, feeling a bit uneasy as he continues down the hallway, Betty’s words lingering in his mind.
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biisexualemma · 2 years ago
Text
confessions (pt.5). rafe cameron
word count: 4.2k
warnings: swearing
requested: yup
plot: rafe won't leave you alone until you talk to him
a/n: i was gonna split this in two but then i thought fuck it... so prepare yourself this is a long one… but worth it 👀
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 6
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your bottom lip slipped out into a small pout as you walked away from the table you'd be serving and approached the bar, where your coworker nate wore a small smile.
"i need two seltzers and a small white wine for table six please, nathanial," you handed him the check you'd written out, turning away while he began making the drinks for your table.
you eyed up your section, running through each of your tables in your head to make sure everyone was sorted and you hadn't forgotten anything.
"when's your next day off?" nate asked, making conversation.
"sunday," you let out a soft sigh, leaning on the bar for a minute, propping your head up with your chin in the palm of your hand.
he hummed, "me too,"
"sucks," you huff and he raises his eyebrows in agreement. "i'm so tired i feel like i could sleep for a whole week."
"think of the money," he tried to reassure and all you could do was nod. he pushed the tray towards you with the drinks made, ready to be taken to their table. "ready to go, better get a smile on that pretty face of yours if you want good tips."
you plastered on your best fake smile, to which he chuckled softly, "attagirl."
you walked over to your table balancing the tray on your hand, when something caught your eye on the other side of the room. you glanced over quickly to see kelce and topper talking amongst themselves, all geared up to play a round of golf. you gulped, this seriously couldn't be happening again, you didn't have it in you to deal with either of them today or ever again.
they continued to talk, seemingly unaware of your presence so you dragged your eyes away, focusing on the customers in front of you as they gave you their orders. you couldn't help but sneak glances at the pair of kooks, anxious that they might start something with you again. and when you thought it couldn't get much worse, rafe approached the two of them, adjusting the golf glove on his hand as they began talking all three of them.
you wanted the universe to swallow you whole, disappear, vanish before any of them could see you but it was too late. the universe hated you.
rafe caught your eye. you quickly looked away, finishing writing down the customers orders, fidgeting with your pen as you did so. you politely thanked them and took their menus, not daring to look over at the three boys again.
you quickly shuffled back to the bar, head in hands, hiding your face as best you could but it was too late, he'd already seen you.
"i hate my life," you muttered under your breath.
"what's going on?" nate asked, intrigued he leaned closer to you.
"rafe cameron," was all you said.
"what about him?" his eyebrows knitted slightly. 
"is he still standing over in the corner?" you asked, peering up through your hands at nate who was nosing discreetly at said-corner.
"no," he said quickly. you let out a brief sigh of relief. "he's walking over here."
your eyes widened, ready to scald nate for not leading with that but before you could say anything, rafe cameron was standing beside you.
"hey," you turned to face him, trying to disguise your obvious discomfort with a forced smile. "i didn't know you were working today."
"i picked up a last minute shift," you didn't know why you were explaining this to him, or why you were talking to him at all. you'd agreed to give yourself some space from him after the last time you'd seen him.
you'd been embarrassed for letting yourself get caught up in whatever rafe was doing. so what if he was nice to just you, so what if he looked really good in the morning (or all of the time), so what if he wanted to look out for you. these were all completely normal things and you had to get it out of your head that he had ulterior motives. it was clear the last time you'd spoken that he saw you as his sisters friend, someone he felt semi-obligated to look out for when the occasion arose. 
he hummed, eyes trailing over to nate who stood a bit too closely looking between the two of you. rafe furrowed his brows for a second, giving him a once over before moving back to you. nate seemed to take the hint and take a few steps back, giving you guys some space.
"i, uh, just wanted to let you know i spoke to kelce," he reached up, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he said it. "so you don't have to worry about him anymore."
your eyebrows pulled together into a small frown, lips parting slightly before you gathered your thoughts and answered him. "i didn't ask you to do that."
he shrugged. "you didn't have to," your eyes looked up at his curiously. why would he do that? "didn't want you to feel uncomfortable having to come to work when he's here."
you opened your mouth, hesitating to speak. "oh," was all you could think of to say. "oh ok," you repeated, slightly baffled. he definitely didn't need to defend you to his friends. your mind was working overtime trying to figure out why he'd go out of his way to do this for his sisters friend?
"thanks—" you were cut short when nate cleared his throat, your eyes pulling away from rafe and over to the tray of drinks.
"table two need their drinks and eight need their order taking," he eyed up rafe for a second before turning to you, trying to figure out what kind of situation this was.
you nodded quickly, pulling yourself out of the bubble you often found yourself in when it came to rafe. you looked up at him with sympathetic eyes as you grabbed the tray of drinks.
"i'm sorry i really have to go—" he went to speak but you were already moving away from him. you were so lost in this situation, all you could think to do was avoid him and maybe this would all go away and everything would go back to normal. "enjoy your golf!"
at least that was what you had convinced yourself you wanted.
-
you dragged your feet as you made your way across the parking lot, yawning as you tucked a few loose strands of hair behind your ears, pulling at your hair to tighten it where it was tied out of your face. you rubbed your tired eyes and thought about how good it would feel when you could finally get off your feet and switch your brain off.
but alas, you had a feeling that wouldn't be happening anytime soon because leaning against the side of your dad's truck was rafe cameron. he watched you walk over towards him, eyes raking over you until you stood in front of him. he shot you half a smile, you folded your arms over your chest.
"hey," he spoke once you were close enough, smile lingering on his lips.
"rafe," you acknowledged his existence but you didn't want to talk right now. you'd done enough smiling and conversing at work for the past eight hours, you didn't have it in you to smile and be nice to another kook today. even if it was rafe.
you'd done your best to avoid him all day. you were convinced you'd actually lose your mind if you had to spend another second thinking about rafe and his motives. so when he sent you a wave when he got back from his round of golf, you pretended not to see it, and when he sat at the bar and ordered himself a drink afterwards, you busied yourself with clearing tables. you couldn't let yourself get sucked into something that wasn't real, you didn't have the time or energy for it. 
"busy day?" you nodded, trying to reach around him for the door handle but he edged in front of it, blocking your way into the truck and wearing a cheeky half-grin while he was doing it. "yeah i figured that's why i didn't see much of you today."
you huffed, answering him, "yup."
it wasn't a lie because you had been busy working all day but you had also been busy ducking every time he walked passed the restaurant (which happened to be a lot— which meant a lot of ducking).
"right," he nodded, eyes squinted a little from the late afternoon sun. "so... how are you?"
you narrowed your eyes at him, "tired and ready to leave this place," still he didn't move. you sighed, wishing he would get to the point already so you could leave.
he hummed, staring at you for a moment, eyes flickering over your face, watching how you held his stare. he figured he'd get to the point. "you've been avoiding me."
"no, i haven't," he knew you were lying, but in order to get the nice, rosy, sweet image of rafe that had been developing in your head, out of your head, you had been doing just what he accused you of. "i've just been working."
he wasn't letting you off that easy, you weren't a good liar and rafe seemed to be able to tell when you weren't telling the whole truth. it was a little bit annoying to be honest.
"what'd i do?" the half-grin had slipped from his lips and was replaced with a sort of grimace as he questioned you. 
"nothing," you said it a bit too fast. 
"liar," he was just as quick.
"rafe," there you went saying his name like it was a burden. "c'mon, i'm tired."
he could tell by your tone of voice and the sour expression you wore on your face as you pleaded with him, that you'd had enough for one day. unfortunately, rafe couldn't let this one go, he hadn't been able to think about anything else all day. he'd had the worst game of golf he'd ever played in his life, all because of you. 
"just tell me what i did and i'll leave," he bargained but you just let out an impatient whine.
"you didn't do anything wrong," it was the truth. "so how can i have been avoiding you?" that was a lie.
you had gotten slightly swept up in something that wasn't there. that wasn't necessarily his fault so you couldn't hold it against him, he was just being nice. even if it was completely out of character.
you could see his mind ticking over as he thought hard about all of it, his eyebrows softly knitted together. he shook his head, eyes narrowing in on you. "y/n— c'mon, just tell me the truth— i won't be offended."
"seriously, i'm not mad at you and i've not been avoiding you," you sighed, trying your hardest to sound convincing because you really wanted him to drop the subject. "except for right now this second because you're blocking my only way outta' here and i'm so tired, rafe," you couldn't help but stomp your foot a little as you whined that last part. 
he looked you over for a second, hair kinda messy, your eyes heavy and your lip almost forming a pout. his eyebrows twitched into a frown. "what have they got you working so many hours for?" you breathed out a sigh, he was nothing if not persistent. 
"i choose to work so many hours because i don't have my daddy's money to fall back on," you were maybe a little meaner than you needed to be, but you had warned him you were tired and cranky and it was nothing rafe hadn't heard before. 
"ok— low ball but fair," he shrugged, letting you off but still not budging.
"get in the truck," you weren't going to shake him anytime soon so you said it quickly before you could change your mind.
"this truck?" he glanced briefly over his shoulder, pointing at the beaten up truck he'd been leaning up against for god knows how long. "your truck?"
"if you're gonna be like this then just come with me," you motioned towards the car, urging him to make a decision quickly.
"will you tell me why you're mad at me if you do?" he tried one last time.
"no," you rolled your eyes. "because i'm not."
he huffed. "alright, fine."
"you're not going home?" he questioned, finally breaking the silence when you took a different turning, pulling up in a small clearing leading to the water. he figured with you being so tired that the first thing you'd wanna do is go home and crash.
"no," you answered as you put the car in park. "my dad's working and i don't— i wanted to come here instead."
he looked over at you sceptically but before he could say anything, you were climbing out the truck and heading down to the water. he huffed, following after you with a jog to catch up.
"i didn't know this place was here," he said, slightly out of breath because you walk surprisingly fast. now he'd caught up with you, he found you sat by the water, looking out to where the sun had started to set.
"most people don't," you mumbled. he sat beside you. "they usually drive right by."
he hummed, glancing at you out the corner of his eyes while you were watching the water. you looked so pretty with the warm, golden sun trickling down your features, he couldn't bring himself to look away.
"stop staring," you muttered, glancing at him for only a second, catching him before he pulled his eyes away. he cleared his throat.
"why'd you bring me here?" he spoke after a few minutes sat in silence. he couldn't help himself, he was bursting with so many questions and you wouldn't answer any of them. 
"i don't wanna talk, rafe," you mumbled after he broke the silence. he turned to face you, one leg tucked under the other, his eyes trailing over your side profile. you sat with your leg's tucked up to your chest, your chin rested atop your knees.
"to me? or just in general?" he quizzed, his head tilted to the side as he did.
"both," you huffed, you didn't have the energy to beat around the bush.
he let out a low whistle, "wow ok," his voice a little bit quieter than it had been. "you still don't wanna' tell me what i did?"
you didn't say anything, sitting in your own silence, eyes on the somewhat still water in front of you.
"giving me the silent treatment, huh?" he continued.
your eyes rolled as you glanced at him out the corner of your eye, you were tired of his joking. you really didn't want to talk, you'd only brought him with you because he wouldn't leave you alone.
"can you give me a clue at least?" your head sunk, tucking your face between your knees to hide from him.
"ok, so you're serious about the no talking thing, huh?" he let out a huff, eyes rolling slightly. "i can't apologise if i don't know what i did."
"i don't want you to apologise, i want you to shut up," you mumbled from between your legs.
"she talks!"
"rafe," you groaned, tucking your head further down. you didn't want to have this conversation when you already knew how he would react. you knew he saw you as his little sisters friend, and nothing more, so there was no use dragging this out and kidding yourself into thinking it was something else. you just had to get your head down and suppress any feeling that might have arisen in the past couple weeks until they went away all together.
"c'mon," he reached out, hand gripping your shoulder and giving it a squeeze, trying to pull you out of your shell.
you wanted to push him away but you didn't, instead you lifted your head and turned to look at him with your cheek resting on your knee. you wore a soft frown on your face, one that did something to rafe's insides when he saw it.
he leaned down to look at you, his eyes level with yours, "talk to me."
you humph, straightening yourself out, his hand slipping from your shoulder, "you are relentless."
"that's not the first time i've been told that," his lips curved into a small smile, almost like he was proud of it.
"this is why i don't want to talk to you," your frown deepens and his smile slips. his eyes are watching you carefully, watching your expression change trying to figure you out.
"i—uh—" he lets out a chaste laugh, eyebrows pulling together slightly. "i don't understand."
"you say things like that all the time and i don't know what you mean," you looked visibly frustrated, rafe had no idea you had been holding onto everything he'd been saying. and rafe talked a lot. 
"y/n—"
"no, you wanted me to talk so i'm talking," you snapped and he quickly shut his mouth. "you haven't left me alone since that night at the bonfire," his eyes flickered between yours, his lips parted as he hung on your every word. "you're like a completely different fucking person— i seriously don't know what's gotten into you. and i can't tell if you really mean everything you're doing and saying or if you're just messing with me—"
"y/n," rafe tries to stop you, he held his hands out, his eyebrows furrowed tightly.
you shushed him before continuing.
"either way, i can't stop thinking about you," your words hung in the silence that was suddenly created between the two of you. rafe is looking at you intently, you're looking at him with slight panic. "and all of it's really fucking with my head because you're you and i don't even know what you want from me."
your breathing grew heavy after talking nonstop with very few breaks. he's still just looking at you and you can't figure out what he's thinking but what's new. you continue. "so i really don't want to talk to you at all because i'm trying really hard to stop thinking about you... in that way."
rafe's a little bamboozled, and he looks it. he hadn't been expecting you to unload all of that, he especially hadn't been expecting you to admit that you'd been thinking about him. he's quiet for a few seconds, thinking hard on that.
"wait—" he finally speaks, his eyebrows unknitting slightly to release the frown from his face. "so you're mad because you like me?"
"i never said like," you frown before clarifying, "i'm mad at you for doing this to me when i was minding my own business," something about this boy made you so defensive. maybe because you still didn't know where he stood. 
"i didn't know," he tried to think of the right thing to say. he quickly reached out and grabbed your forearm when he saw you pull back. "wait—"
"rafe— you don't have to—"
"i wasn't trying to fuck with your head," he said quickly before you can get up to leave, he's gripping you as tight as he can without hurting you. "i genuinely was just trying to help that night of the bonfire, i've known you as long as you and sarah have been friends... i didn't want you getting yourself hurt."
you have this sinking feeling in your chest, he'd confirmed what you had been thinking. he sees you as just a friend— or his sisters friend. "ok— i get it—"
"will you actually shut up for once and let me finish?" your mouth hangs open slightly from where he'd cut you off but you do as he says.
"i couldn't stop myself after the bonfire—" his jaw tightened as his grip on your forearm loosened, realising you're not going anywhere right now. your eyes watched his every move carefully. "you're—you make this face when you're mad—you're usually mad at me but it still— it literally drives me insane."
you can't read his expression. his jaw is prominent, his tongue slips out to wet his lips, his eyes not moving an inch from yours. you would feel intimidated if his eyes weren't so soft.
"insane in a good way?" your eyebrows unknitted as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. you didn't feel so angry anymore, you just needed him to clarify what your busy mind was thinking for once.
"insane like it's all i can think about and sometimes i deliberately piss you off just so you'll make that face."
you have to take a beat before you can form a response, "yeah, that is kind of insane," you let out a deep breath, thinking about what rafe cameron had just admitted to you. it amazed you that he was able to actually use his words for once.
he huffed, running his hand over his face. "yeah, well it's your fault that i'm losing my mind," he looks out onto the water, for a second not able to meet your warm eyes that he knew were waiting for him. "i didn't want anything from you... just really wanted you," he scrunched up his nose as he said it aloud, cringing.
you couldn't help a small smile creeping onto your lips, half amusement and half amazement. this was a different rafe cameron to the one everyone knew, and to who you knew a few weeks ago.
"you want me?" you'd never had a boy tell you he wanted you before, never mind literal kook royalty. a professed pogue-hater, wanted you.
"was that speech not obvious enough for you?" he turned his head only slightly towards you, a little embarrassed as he glanced out the corner of his eye at you. he managed to catch the small smile on your face though, and the way your eyes had softened. "or me literally following you around for the past two weeks."
"no," you said honestly because you hadn't thought any of it was obvious that he liked you as more than a friend. "i'm just still getting used you being a normal, living, breathing human being with wants and feelings"
he rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face as he finally turned to face you properly again. "you're so funny," you made a face at him, scrunching up your nose with a teasing smile. rafe squints his eyes at you, thinking back to everything you'd said before— because you'd said a lot in a short space of time.
"yeah, well, i'm not always annoyed," you clarified. "you just happen to be a very annoying person," you teased. "who is annoyingly very attractive."
rafe liked this new facet of your relationship, now things were out in the open he felt like he didn't have to bite his tongue so much. and you felt a bit more relaxed around him.
"don't let that go to your head," you said quickly before he could beat you to it. his lips curled into a lopsided grin, glancing away from you for a second.
"i said nothing," he defended himself, holding up his hands.
"yeah, well, your face speaks for you," he narrowed his eyes at you and you let out a laugh. his eyes trailed over you before shaking his head, still wearing that half a smile. 
he snorted, "no wonder i had no idea you liked me," he watched you listening to his every word. you didn't correct him this time because you both knew now how the other felt. "you're mean, but at least i tried to be nice to you."
you hum, your smile slipping ever so slightly as you teased back, "you bring out the worst in me, what can i say," you mull over what you're thinking and whether you should say it aloud. you'd gotten this far by being honest, so why stop now. "and i still feel a bit defensive."
rafe bit down on the inside of his cheek, his eyes flickering between yours. it didn't sit right with him, what you said, but he can't blame you either. 
"ok, well, we can work on that," he hums quietly. he notices the way the look your giving him softens and you almost seem to visibly relax with his words.
"you were right when you said i didn't know you." you eye him up. "i thought i did but... i don't know. maybe i was too quick to judge you."
"yeah?" he spoke quietly, hopefully.
"you've given me no reason to doubt you yet," you eye him up sceptically. "please don't give me a reason," you say the last part much quieter, feeling much more vulnerable now than you had ever done with rafe. 
rafe was getting to see different sides of you and he didn't want it to stop.
"i don't plan to."
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peppered-moths · 2 years ago
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this is not about revenge (or what i felt before)
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
"You won, right?" The sound of Martyn's voice seemingly jerks Scott awake. Martyn hadn't even noticed, caught up in his own thoughts. He mouths 'sorry' and intends to leave it at that, settling back against the hard stone wall. They had to sleep sometimes, and Martyn had graciously volunteered to watch Scott's back while he slept. It... had been a long day.
Scott sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He doesn't make any motion to go back to sleep, and instead eyes him. His expression is unreadable.
"Yeah? I- I mean, you were there, right? Watched me get struck down, all that?" He waves a hand in the air aimlessly.
"I just- I want to know what it's like." Martyn says softly. The whispers still ring in his ears. He wonders, if he won, if they'd stop.
Scott frowns down at him, one newly sprouted yellow fin flicking. "Seriously, Martyn, what's this about? You can't be that confident already- you were just talking earlier about how bad your armor was."
He hesitates. How does he explain it? Explain Them?
"Just- did you see anything? Afterwards."
Scott's expression freezes, stuck between shock and confusion and a little bit of fear-
"You have!" Martyn shoots up, ignoring protesting wounds. He reaches over, takes Scott's hands. "You saw Them, didn't you?"
"I- don't- how did you- how did you know?" Scott sucks in a sharp breath, mouth tugged downwards. "Grian said. He said- it was only supposed to be the winners." Huh. That makes... a surprising amount of sense.
"I hear them," he breathes, locking eyes with Scott. "I always hear them. It's... quiet, usually, but sometimes-" He swallows, looks down. "I heard them after you died." After I killed you.
"Okay." Scott nods, forced calm on his face. "I'll pretend like that's completely normal and not at all worrying." His voice pitches upward as he speaks. "Um. Do I need to be worried?"
Well, I think They told me to kill you. And I don't think last time counts.
"No," he says instead. "Not really. It was just... indecipherable nonsense. As usual." Scott's still tense, but his hands relax slightly in Martyn's grip, and he feels slightly bad for lying. And then he realizes he's holding Scott's hands, and immediately lets go.
Scott blinks at him as he steps away, and then down at his own hands, dotted here and there with dark blue scales. He doesn't seem notice how flustered Martyn is all of a sudden, and he thanks any gods but his own for that. He's not sure why he's flustered in the first place, because that's something to unpack another day!
"I don't think I've said thank you yet." Martyn's eyes snap back to Scott. "For killing me," the other man clarifies, which is... something Martyn hasn't heard in a while.
"Well. It wasn't like I was having a lot of fun either."
"Mmm." Scott's only half-listening, he can tell, clearly turning something over in his mind. He waits patiently.
"You- hm. You don't do that very often." Scott looks at him directly, and for a moment all Martyn can imagine is a red brand across his throat. It's a stupid idea, of course. He had stabbed him through the heart.
"No," he agrees. "I don't." Suddenly all he can think about is how alone they are, in their threadbare cave under the ocean. How suddenly vulnerable this feels. He hasn't- he doesn't-
"I guess I'm trying to ask if it means something," Scott says carefully, watching Martyn like he's about to run, "or if I'm reading too far into it."
And that sends Martyn reeling. All he can do is stare at Scott, mind scrambling to form something cohesive.
In the end, all he can get out is "What about Jimmy?"
Scott's face twists sharply, a wave of emotions playing over his features, and Martyn knows he's said the wrong thing. But Scott just clasps his hands in his lap, twisting them tightly together, and looks back up at him.
"What about him?"
"Well- aren't you two..." Fated. Destined. Martyn waves his hand to illustrate his point.
"You didn't see his face today," Scott whispers after a moment, voice cracking for a moment. "When he was chasing me. It was- that was hunger, Martyn. He was going to do anything to kill me. I-" Scott stops. Takes a deep breath. "He wasn't- isn't the same Jimmy I fell in love with."
Martyn sits next to him on the bed, hands awkwardly hovering close to the other. Scott seems like he's about to cry. He looks at Martyn again, something simultaneously piercing and vulnerable.
"You're avoiding the question."
"What?"
Scott scrubs a hand over his head, messing up his already rumpled hair. "I asked if it meant something." Martyn is silent again; not struck-dumb silence, but instead reaching for an answer he isn't sure he knows.
"I remind you of him." Everything reminds me of him. It's still not an answer. Ren had been the world, and then, just like that, he wasn't. It still aches.
"That's not fair. To you." he finally murmurs. Scott just looks at him with clear yellow eyes. He wonders what red will look like on him.
"No, it's not," he agrees. "It's not fair for you to pretend I'm Ren. But that's not what I'm asking." He shifts closer, gesturing for Martyn to turn so they're both facing each other. "I'm asking if it meant something. Beyond Ren, beyond Red Winter, beyond Third Life."
Martyn sits there. He remembers sinking his sword between Scott's fourth and fifth ribs. His first thought had been you're safe now. Like it was nothing. Like he's ever been able to keep anyone safe.
Scott must see the struggle in his face. He takes one of Martyn's hands, squeezing it in his own. It feels... safe.
"It's- just- I- don't you ever believe in fate? Destiny, soulmates, whatever you want to call it."
Scott turns his head, considering. "Well, we've already tried the soulmate thing, and look at how that ended." The small smile fades from his lips. "I think if I'm destined to be with Jimmy, I wouldn't feel the way I do about him. I wouldn't feel the way I feel about you."
That makes Martyn flush, turning his face surreptitiously away so Scott can't see it. "I wish I could escape fate," he admits. "But I hear Them every time. It's- it's like They know, every single time. Like it's predestined."
"Well, try doing something They'd never expect," Scott suggests, half-jokingly. It actually makes him laugh.
"Yeah? What do you propose?" Scott's mouth curves in a wicked smile, and he leans closer to Martyn, until they're almost nose to nose.
"Well," he murmurs, sing-song. He places one hand on Martyn's cheek. "I was thinking something like this." He leans in closer, slowly, giving Martyn plenty of time to back off, to say no thanks if he wants to. He doesn't take the opportunity.
He meets Scott right in the middle. The kiss is driving, fierce. It's nothing like the way Ren used to kiss Martyn, like he was fragile, something easily broken, needing to be protected. He doesn't really want Scott to kiss like Ren anyways, he realizes.
They break apart after a moment, Martyn half-dazed. Scott runs a finger over his bottom lip absently, and he can't help but trace it with his eyes. Scott catches him in the act, raising an eyebrow.
"Did that feel fated?"
"I'm not sure," Martyn breathes. "I think I'd have to try again."
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endofradio · 4 months ago
Text
FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — CHAPTER 6: END OF THE NIGHT
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PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5
WARNINGS: gore mentions
NOTES: sorry that it took so long for me to post this 😭😭😭 i’ve had a lot going on and ended up deciding to rewrite this chapter midway through it.
also, frank knows something crucial about sylvie that the others don’t… BUT i won’t spoil it 🥱 that shall be revealed during the last few chapters
SUMMARY: sammy wakes up sylvie in the middle of the night to help her investigate some mysterious noises she’s been hearing. turns out, something is very, very wrong.
WORD COUNT: 2,088
TAGLIST: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @that-one-gay-aew-enthusiast @vampireheist @maggotmommys @maggotssmichael @13th-floor-in-moonstone @atcarpenter @blackwolfstabs @evildarliing @xashleyo03x
send me a message if you’d like to be added to my taglist!
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“Ava, wake up!”
Sylvie’s eyes fluttered open to see that she was in bed all alone… naked. What? She looked up to see Sammy standing there, holding a flashlight. She looked… afraid.
“Sammy, what’s goin’ on…?” Sylvie groggily asked, slowly sitting up and covering herself with the blanket.
“I can’t sleep. I’ve been hearing noises. Can you… help me look?”
Sylvie sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I need to sleep, Sammy. Can’t you go look yourself?”
“I’m… scared. What if there’s something?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like… I don’t know. Something scary. What if this place is haunted? I mean… it looks like it could be. It’s giving me the creeps.”
“Fine. I’ll help you look, but I’m going back to sleep afterward.”
Sammy breathed out a sigh of relief. Sylvie reached over the bed, seeing that her clothes were scattered around on the floor. Then… it hit her. Right.
“What the hell happened?” Sammy then asked, directing the flashlight toward the mess of clothes on the floor.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sylvie muttered. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
As Sammy headed out of the bedroom, Sylvie switched the lamp on, climbed out of bed, and put her clothes back on, adjusting her hair a bit. Once she was ready, she headed out of the bedroom, seeing Sammy standing by the wall. Now that she was able to see Sylvie more clearly thanks to the light in the hallway, she raised an eyebrow, gesturing to her neck.
“What are… those?”
“Huh?”
“Your neck,” Sammy explained. “You’ve got some… uh… marks.”
Sylvie sighed, now desperate to change the subject. “Don’t worry about it. Now, where are these noises coming from?”
Thankfully, her attempt at a topic change appeared to work.
“Downstairs, I think,” Sammy answered.
Sylvie slowly nodded. “Okay, good. We can go look there, then.”
As the pair walked over to the staircase, Sammy glanced at Sylvie with a worried expression on her face. “I wonder if it’s Dean.”
“How come?”
Sammy sighed. “Well, I was watching television, and I guess he thought it would be funny to try and prank me.” She explained, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. Then, she looked concerned again.
“These noises, though… I’m seriously getting some bad vibes. I could’ve sworn that I heard somebody fucking screaming downstairs. I can’t think of a reason Dean would do some bullshit like that.”
The two slowly started to make their way down the stairs, and that was when Sammy looked over at Sylvie again, her eyebrow raised.
“So, what the hell is it with you and Frank?”
Sylvie paused, feeling her chest start to tighten. She really did not want to talk about any of this.
“Why do you want to know?” She questioned, her tone coming off as a bit defensive. “There’s… nothing going on between us.”
Sammy shrugged, continuing to walk down the stairs. “I mean, I did see him shoving his tongue down your throat earlier.”
Sylvie sighed as she tried to ignore Sammy. Unfortunately, that didn’t work. She continued to pester Sylvie.
“You guys fucked, didn’t you? I mean, honestly, I’m surprised. I never thought that Frank out of all people would actually—”
“Can you please drop it?”
“… Sorry.”
Eventually, Sammy and Sylvie reached the bottom of the stairs. Now, they just had to figure out what the hell happened.
“Dean?” Sammy called out as she started to wander around, surveying the area for anything that seemed suspicious. “Dean, are you there?”
When there was no response, Sammy let out a frustrated groan. She continued searching until she noticed the door leading into the kitchen was open. Maybe Dean was in there?
“This better not be some sick joke…” she grumbled, before turning around to look at Sylvie. “Let’s check the kitchen.”
Sylvie followed Sammy into the kitchen, instantly feeling a sense of unease. The place looked… depressing, at least for a fancy mansion. There were also rats scurrying about.
“Ugh, this is— wait, Dean?”
At Sammy’s voice, Sylvie quickly glanced in her direction. At the kitchen table sat Dean, who appeared to be sleeping… but something seemed off. He was completely motionless. He looked like he was sleeping, but Sylvie was quick to notice that he didn’t appear to be breathing.
“Dean, what are you— oh my God, what the fuck?!”
Sammy let out a terrified shriek, and Sylvie flinched when she saw her holding Dean’s bloodied severed head in her hands. Sammy quickly turned around to look at Sylvie, her expression one of complete terror.
“Sammy, what the fuck happened?” Sylvie asked, her eyes widening.
“His head fell off… Dean’s head just fucking… fell off!”
Panicked, Sammy quickly dropped Dean’s head, dashing to the bathroom to vomit. While Sammy was in the bathroom, Sylvie slowly and carefully walked over to where Dean’s decapitated body was, still slumped in the chair. She brought her hand to her mouth, feeling nothing but… shock, and also terror. How the hell had this even happened?
As much as she didn’t want to look, Sylvie couldn’t tear her gaze from Dean’s body, trying to see if she could piece anything together. Instead of his head, there was just a bloody stump.
Sylvie didn’t feel safe here anymore.
A person had to have killed Dean, which meant that there was clearly a fucking murderer in the mansion. The real question was… who the hell did it? It looked as though some kind of animal had done it, but why was Dean propped up in the chair like that? At least to Sylvie, it seemed intentional. Besides, what kind of animal in the mansion could’ve done something like that? So far, Sylvie had only seen rats in this place.
Sammy had also mentioned noises… those noises could’ve been the result of some kind of struggle.
Either way, whatever the hell happened, Sylvie just knew that something was seriously wrong.
Sammy eventually rushed out of the bathroom, practically on the verge of hyperventilating. She seemed really shaken up.
“What’s going on, Sammy?”
Sammy and Sylvie both looked to see Peter now standing in the kitchen, a concerned expression on his face. At a loss for words, Sammy simply gestured to Dean’s body to try and explain what the hell had just happened.
“His head fucking… fell off. Also… why do you have a dick on your face?”
Peter raised an eyebrow in confusion, reaching a hand to feel at his face. When he didn’t notice anything, he looked even more confused.
“What are you talking about?”
Sammy let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. “Nevermind. Don’t worry about it. Just… go get the others.”
“Okay…”
And with those words, Peter disappeared, leaving Sylvie and Sammy alone in the kitchen again with Dean’s mutilated corpse. Sammy had already thrown up, and now Sylvie felt like she was going to be the next person to be sick. This all felt like a nightmare that was coming to life.
Eventually, the rest of the group showed up. All of them looked quite concerned and confused, except for Frank. He just looked more annoyed than anything, which wasn’t surprising at all. When he noticed Dean’s body, though, he drew in a deep breath.
“The fuck is this?” He asked.
Sammy’s eyes nervously darted back to Dean’s body before she met Frank’s gaze. “Dean was just fucking killed.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, Frank’s gaze shifted from Sammy to Sylvie, and then back to Sammy. “What the fuck are you two doing down here, anyway?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Sammy sheepishly answered. “I… asked Ava to help me. I heard noises.”
Frank let out a scoff. “Well, you just had to go check it out, huh?”
“I was scared, okay?”
“Yeah, whatever. What I would like to know is what the fuck happened here?”
Sammy looked away from Frank again. “I wish I knew.”
Sylvie sighed, looking up at Frank. “Well, what do you think happened?”
Frank stared at Dean’s headless body before letting out a humorless chuckle. “The fuck do I know?” He snarkily asked. “What does it look like to you?”
“Almost like an animal tore him apart. Like… it just doesn’t seem… human, but a person had to have done it anyway. I’ve only seen rats here.”
Sylvie’s explanation seemed to put everybody on edge, especially Frank and Rickles. Frank let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. He almost seemed more nervous than Rickles was, or Rickles was just better at hiding it.
“No, no, no. I’m not fu— we’re not fuckin’ going there. We are not going there. We’re not doing this shit.”
Sylvie narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
Rickles let out a sigh, figuring that he might as well do the explaining. “I heard a story once…” he began. “Three of Lazar’s top guys got pinched a few years ago. The FBI flipped ‘em.”
As Sylvie listened to Rickles’ retelling of the story, she began to feel sick with nerves. Now that she thought about it, the story seemed vaguely familiar. Just hearing Lazar’s name made her anxious, especially since now she knew for sure that he was real and not some bullshit urban myth.
The more Rickles said, the more paranoid Sylvie started to feel. Decapitation, dismemberment… if Rickles was saying what she thought he was saying…
“That’s his signature. Valdez. He’s a fucking animal. And there was no way in and out of that room except for the front door or the twenty-third-story window.”
“No, no…” Sylvie quietly whispered. She started to pace around the kitchen nervously, a million thoughts running through her mind. Valdez is not real. He is not fucking real. It’s just a story, that’s all. Nothing more.
“So, how’d he do it?” Sammy then asked. “Kinda sounds like bullshit to me, really. How would he have been able to get through the window?”
“It’s not fuckin’ bullshit.” Frank scoffed in irritation. “That’s not the first time I heard that story…”
Sylvie stopped her pacing, drawing in a trembling breath. “He’s… he’s right… it’s not bullshit…”
“You’ve heard that story, too?” Sammy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sylvie slowly nodded. She caught Frank glancing at her for a moment, a small smirk on his face. What the hell was that for?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked defensively.
Frank looked away from her, shrugging. “Nevermind.”
Sylvie glanced back at Sammy. “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard that story, either. We… we all need to be careful. Really careful.”
“Lambert would be out of his fucking mind if Valdez is here,” Joey said.
Frank then gestured for the group to follow him.
“We’re checking on the girl.”
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Frank was leading the way up the stairs, pointing his gun as though he was expecting danger to be lurking just around the corner.
“Alright, let’s game this out,” he said. “If Valdez or anyone else is in here, that means Lambert gave us up. And I don’t buy that.”
“Or,” Joey suggested, “Lazar got to him and beat our location out of him.”
Frank snapped his head around, staring at Joey with an incredulous look. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He asked. “Lambert is a meticulous motherfucker. He’s very, very careful. If he gave us up, that means either one of us did it, or Valdez is in here, and he did it.”
“Or one of us is Valdez,” Joey added.
One of us is Valdez.
Sylvie tried to think. Out of everyone here, she only knew Frank, but she couldn’t picture anybody — including Frank — being responsible for what happened to Dean. Nothing was making any sense.
Once the group reached Abigail’s room, Frank opened the door. The girl was just sitting on the bed, and when she heard the door open, she looked up in slight fear. “Hello?”
Quickly, Frank closed the door, turning to face the group. “She’s fine.”
Rickles, however, wasn’t convinced. “Just because she’s still in there doesn’t mean that Valdez is not here.”
That was when Rickles decided that he didn’t want to be part of this mission anymore. Sylvie wasn’t too far from dropping out, either.
“I’m out,” Rickles said, turning around to leave. As he stepped down the stairs, he looked behind him at Frank for a moment. “You coming?”
Frank simply just scoffed at the question, which was ironic considering he had been seconds away from leaving not that long ago.
Rickles continued to head downstairs, figuring that he wouldn’t waste any more time.
“Suit yourself.”
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dominicdelagol2 · 3 months ago
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Planning to try out Auctober again this October! Feel free to join in and draw for each prompt! List of prompts and their context below:
1: Red Instead - Instead of the blue puzzle piece as displayed by Autism $peaks, we light it up red instead!
2: Special Interests - Anything you love the most in your life!
3: Music - Music is always nice to listen to, especially video game music!
4: Comfort Food - Food is yummy. Fast food is even yummier because why wouldn't it be?
5: Stim / Verbal Stims - Stims include making mouth noises and waving your arms back and forth for comfort!
6: Stim Toys - Fidget cubes, spinners, squeezable toys, etc. -- they can be fun to use!
7: Sensory Euphoria - Some things can make you most happy, whether it's eating chicken with queso dip, seeing a light-filed city during night time, store candles with a good food-like smell, you name it!
8: Hyperfixation - One particular thing you're focused on so much! It can be the periodic table, a video game series, painting, anything you can think of!
9: Info Dumping - Wanna know what one thing is? Then you'll wanna be ready for a detailed explanation going at least 200-pages long!
10: Neurotypical Expectations - Neurotypicals expect an awful lot from autistic people. For all we know, some random guy might expect you to know how to build an aircraft carrier! Of course, that's just me haha
11: Jobs...? Where? - Obviously, there are TONS of open jobs available, but whatever jobs ARE open, workers and its managers expect you to work, and work, and work, and work, and work, and work...without considering your overall health at all, nor giving you a long-enough break to help you catch your breath physically and mentally.
12: The Outside World - Outside is scary. No matter how safe you are, there's a tiny chance something bad or worse will happen. Society can even expect you to be "normal".
13: Social Anxiety - It's hard enough making friends, let alone be an extrovert. Chances are, one could have sociophobia!
14: Self-Advocacy - Nothing about us without us! Seriously, neurotypical adults have talked about autism and didn't include autistics in the conversation. (got that from one of my Auctober 2023 drawings)
15: Self-Care - Self-care is important! Make sure to brush your teeth, eat and drink healthy, exercise and whatnot!
16: LGBTQIA+ - Autistic people are more likely to be LGBTQIA+!
17: Rainbow Infinity - Rainbows are a whole spectrum of colors! Same with the autistic spectrum--all sorts of different experiences!
18: Au-DHD - ADHD, but "A" is replaced with "Au" as in aurum, which is Gold in Latin. ADHD can mean one is hyperactive!
19: Too Much Energy - The energy builds up too fast and you just have to exercise to tone it down! Of course, the energy could vary, sometimes being suddenly energetic when you just need to sleep.
20: Out-of-Nowhere Info/Fact - Say you're doing a simple job like vacuuming. All you have to do is move the vacuum on the floor as you hold the handle, thus cleaning the floor. Simple, yes? Well, surprise -- some guy sucker punches you with random information such as "Hey buddy! Vacuums use more electricity when you turn the vacuum on and off rather than letting it stay on!" (I've actually been told that one time, and the info sounding unconfirmed to me, it just left me in a long mental stasis of confusion) Like, when did anyone ask for a detailed fact about something that's SUPPOSED TO BE SIMPLE? I don't have time to comprehend an entire page of info, I just like to keep things SIMPLE as you neurotypicals tell me to my face.
21: School Experience - Experience can include elementary school, middle school, high school, college -- You can explain a particular event or two during any of these time periods!
22: Routine - A little something every day or now and then to stay consistent! Daily tasks can included 3 meals a day, staying productive or such!
23: Unmasking - Unmasking is not easy. Defending yourself from the unpredictable world, trying to blend in with society -- it's exhausting! Let the autistic community just be what they wish to be already.
24: Autistic Viewpoint - How do you view the world as an autistic?
25: America (Derogatory) - This one might not need an introduction -- America, the "Land of the Free" and the "Land of Opportunities", sure likes to screw us all over! Police are too paranoid, justice is a load of baloney, daily gun violence anywhere and everywhere, dangerous bigots normalizing the R-slur, then you have big and popular figures here smearing the autistic community into a negative light...and the list of bad things never stops growing! A very cruel country, like not even cartoon villains are this mean-spirited! How is the autistic community supposed to exist in peace when the USA is basically nothing but trouble? Happy 4th of July, I guess...
26: Comfort Media/Games - A TV show or video game is always nice to play and keep calm when times get tough out there!
27: Fancy Wording - A series of five-dollar words can arrive rather than a simple "yes" or "not" to suffice. Sometimes, fancy words such as Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis can be fun to learn about!
28: Gold - Gold is part of the periodic table, atomic number 79! Light it up gold instead of blue for Autism Acceptance! 'Au' as in Aurum, and autism!
29: Neurodivergent Community - There's all sorts of Neurodivergent people worth seeing! They all have different experiences!
30: Autistic Pride - Autistic and proud!
31: FREE SPACE -- Explain any topic you wish!
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matchstixx · 2 months ago
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The People We Think We Know
Chapter 2
Pairing: Tobirama x fem!Reader
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WC: 2,134
CW: Death, mildly graphic description of gore and sickness, mentioned/attempted human trafficking but no actual happenstance
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Read on Ao3
[Series Master List]
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This opportunity cannot be wasted; manipulate, scheme, lie, do whatever it takes to survive.
The thought is still disconcerting even after repeating it each morning when you wake up and each night before you sleep, for the past five years. Like a piece of your past self’s morality still trying to maintain structure within this world you’ve been thrust into. Beg, barter, steal? You’ve done it all by now in this 5-year-old body. It’s easy enough, since adults don’t expect you–a visible child in their eyes–to have the mind of a 24 year old. And why would they? It’s not like transmigration is a thing here…or maybe it is? You never finished the manga.
Between rent, tuition, food, studying, class, job shifts, and more and more and more, there wasn’t really any time or leftover money to go buy the newest volumes (and the store clerk yelled at you the last time you tried to speed through the pages, telling you to ‘buy it or get out’).
So, catching up on the Naruto series was quickly reduced to streaming it off some sketchy website on your phone while you were studying–rewinding it every couple of minutes when you missed something important. Then quickly morphed into nothing at all when your parents berated you during winter break about your declining grades because of the distraction.
And slowly, you were being crushed. Already two years behind on your 4 year degree, debt adding up, increasing shift hours, piled up homework and projects. It was wake up, eat, survive, sleep, and repeat, again and again and again and AGAIN. AND AGAIN. AND AGAIN.
And then, there was the accident.
You’d like to say it was quick, that you hadn’t laid on the concrete for 20 minutes, bleeding out, broken bones pressing up through skin, and collapsed lung straining to inflate with each draw of breath. The EMS responders had been kind, you vaguely recall, a pensive seriousness on their faces and reassurances that ‘everything will be okay, just stay awake for me.’ And for a couple moments, you had believed them.
Death wasn’t that bad. The lead up was–for sure–but actual death? It had really felt about the same as being put under at the dentist’s for your wisdom teeth removal. A heavy lethargy and the vague awareness of the passage of time, but ignorant of how long it’d been since you had closed your eyes in the first place.
And when you had opened your eyes again, it had been to a midwife jostling you about for a reaction in a rustic room; a sweaty, exhausted woman collapsed on what could barely be called a bed in the corner and a grumpy man staring down at you with disappointment and disdain.
It was weird being a baby with the mind and awareness of a grown adult. Weird to have a different name and face and family. You had resisted the mortifying experience of being breastfed for as long as your stomach could take (a whole 6 hours) much to the dissatisfaction and worry of the woman who had become your mother in this world.
(A part of you had almost given in to the guilt after hour 2 when the woman had begun crying, pulling at her hair and smacking her head as she pleaded for you to eat. But working through the realization that you had died and been reborn–while maintaining your adult sentiency as a newborn–had you holding on stubbornly to your own pride.)
It wasn’t until you had turned 3-years-old in this world, when you had realized that you had transmigrated into the world of Naruto.
You had been born into a small village made up of outcasts and wanderers, in the middle-of-nowhere-Land of Fire, to farm hands who had barely even read or heard stories about shinobi, let alone seen or met one. For a while, you had thought that you just had been reborn into one of the historical periods of Japan; with yukatas, kimono, and shoji screen doors.
It was a small Senju unit that had shown up in town demanding room and board that had triggered your realization. A heavily pregnant woman was being escorted by the shinobi group, with a 4-year-old holding one of her hands, a 2-year-old grasping the other, and a 1-year-old strapped to her back with a length of cloth. Your mother had quickly urged you to help her clean the empty room that used to be your ‘grandmother’s’ for the woman, the shinobi taking up residence around the house with severe looks.
She had gone into labor later that night and you were left with her three sons to listen to the screams and sobs happening from the other side of the house. The 4-year-old, a brown-haired boy with a bowl cut, had cried the whole time, curled up with arms crossed over his ears and head. The albino 2-year-old had sat eerily still and silent the entire time, holding his swaddled little brother in his arms firmly as the baby snoozed through the noise. You had simply left them be in their own forms of anguish, quietly serving tea and dry, nearly-stale, crackers; your movements closely scrutinized by the red eyes of the younger boy across from you.
The albino boy only reacted once that night, in the moment right before the house went deadly silent; a furrow to his brow and mouth pinching into a thin line as tears flooded to his eyes but didn’t spill.
The Senju unit left the next day, led by a severe looking man. The two boys from last night silently followed him with bowed heads and a little brother in each of their arms.
There was a new grave mound in the cemetery that morning, the dirt freshly dug and covered in the middle of the night while the boys had been asleep.
A year and a half later, your ‘parents’ died in an epidemic in the village. Your ‘father’ was the strong, silent type, upset at having been given a girl for a child. Although, stubborn denial had him dragging you out to the fields and tool shed each day to teach you how to work with your hands, much to the begrudgement of your mother. The whole time he cared for you, he would make the standard, berating commentary at your ‘mother’ about being a ‘good wife’ by giving him a son. She had just gotten pregnant three months before she died to the sickness. Then, barely a month later, husband followed wife.
Part of you had felt bad; a weird kind of grief held for people that were simultaneously your entire world, and yet somehow still strangers. There was no funeral, the mortician/gravedigger/town doctor had died within the first 2 months of the outbreak; the villagers had taken to throwing all of that day’s bodies into large pits and lighting them on fire. They would burn for hours into the night, the smell of burning flesh and blood and puss a nauseating thing that would sometimes keep you up at night, retching off the back porch.
You had quickly packed up a bag after a somewhat appropriate amount of grieving time, spent holed up in the house and eating all of the food in the cabinets growing stale and moldy. It was easy to find Father’s hidden money stash, a large handful of bills that he set aside to spend at the dusty bar a few buildings down. He used to tell Mother that he had ‘worker meetings’ with the other farm hands in town, which was actually just all of the married men going out to drink themselves into a stupor and make perverse commentary about the young women in the village. A part of you knows that Mother was aware of what he was up to as she would spend the time teaching you to read and write–skills that your Father had been adamant about not needing in life–, never commenting on the strong smell of alcohol coming from him when he would get home.
A couple of Mother’s nice-ish kimonos get folded up in the bag, hopefully to be sold when the coins run out, and you cut up a pair of Father’s hakama to use while you travel. Then, you take to the road without a single word to any of the other villagers; they’d probably figure you went and died in the woods out of grief.
You learn to avoid the various clan compounds, unfriendly at best or completely hostile at worst to strangers and outsiders, moreso to those claiming to be unaffiliated. Large villages are also approached with caution, the inhabitants of the nicer streets gazing at your stained and dirty clothes with disgust and refusing you sales. You’re mostly ignored in the more impoverished areas; where you have coin, vendors will sell–regardless of your age and lack of adult supervision.
It’s an attempted kidnapping from a group of human traffickers that leaves you without your bag, discarded in your struggle, and clothes ripped and dirty where you had raced through the dusty back alleys of a town in your haste. When you assess the damage later as you’re trying to clean out the stains and mend the large gashes, you decide to steal a mostly empty rice bag behind one of the houses on the edge of the village. The grains fill you for a week and a half before you turn the empty bag into a makeshift dress to replace the pieces of cloth that are practically sloughing off your bony body at this point.
It’s a long 7 months filled with wandering about to new towns to steal food from. Your stomach is gurgling and clenching around its emptiness when you hear the sound of celebration in the distance. Eventually, you come across the walls of a clan compound, the sentries sparse in their towers and quickly distracted by the stone you throw further into the woods. When they disappear, you squeeze through a crack between two of the large pikes of wood, split open with rot and waterlog, and barely covered by a shrubbery blooming with large flowery petals.
From experience, you make your way to the temple first after you can tell that whatever festival is taking place is set up in the main village area instead. Bowing your head to the statue of the goddess in the temple’s main chamber, you mumble an apology and thanks for the food. A brief glare of sunlight across the gold gilding of the statue almost makes you think that the goddess is granting you permission to the food offerings laid at her feet.
You made it halfway through the plate when the miko finds you with an enraged shout.
The ‘innocent, poor child’ ploy you’ve curated over the years easily slides into place when more adults show up. You crank up the pitiful act when the matriarch, ‘Yoko’, looks upon you with a level of adoration that only a woman who draws happiness from raising kids can manage.
You barely manage to keep the surprise off your face when Yoko calls out to the boy in front of you with a familiar name. He stares at you with a wary distrust, eyes flickering to who you gather is his father in deference. The Uchiha compound. Just your luck to stumble across them of all people.
It’s hard to keep the childish expressions from cracking and revealing the more complex intrigue that flits to the surface as you are brought to the clan head’s house. You pretend to take interest in the architecture, using the time to look at Madara and the other Uchiha sons out of your periphery. Madara stares at you with obvious suspicion while the other three, unmentioned by name in the manga and anime, stare at you with blatant curiosity.
It’s odd, seeing Madara before he succumbed to rage and despair. He has so much personality, lofty and naively unstructured goals, and strong attachments to each of his family members. His facial expressions are comical when compared to the serious version of him you’d seen in fanarts and video clips.
You slink into the futon after you shoo him out of the room, the full brunt of all of the events in your new life and the past 7 months hitting you hard enough to bring you to tears. You bite them back and pull the covers over your head to hide the quiet whimpers that seep out.
The tears eventually dry up as the exhaustion starts to pull you under, your mind churning with plans and next steps. There is no rest for the wicked.
This opportunity cannot be wasted; manipulate, scheme, lie, do whatever it takes to survive.
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trimanulo · 1 year ago
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A few of my theories on Beavis and Butthead!
1. I think everyone noticed that Beavis did not invent a woman for himself. Instead, he came up with a Butt-head, which he was probably really waiting for. Beavis has always had strange tendencies, which I attribute to his orientation. After spending many years with Butthead, he just doesn't think about women anymore, because a friend has completely replaced them. Most likely, he even likes that Butthead beats him, for Beavis this is something normal, so much so that with each season he began to beat Butthead less and less in response. It seems to me that Beavis loves Butthead, but he can't admit it in any way, because he denies it in himself and believes that butthead will not take his feelings seriously.
2. Beavis was raped, and in my opinion more than once. In many episodes of the old seasons and in the last one, he told about a man who "did something to him", Beavis is not a virgin and was sexually assaulted. And not only in adolescence, but also in childhood, which indicates his fear of touching from other people.
3. Butthead was raised by his uncle, his mother's brother. But the mother seems to have visited her son, as she told Butthead that his father had died. Also, Butthead's uncle is most likely not poor, since he allowed his cousin to put braces on his teeth, and this is not cheap.
4. Beavis' mother did not abandon him. Beavis always remembers her and it seems that it was she who paid taxes for the house in which the boys lived for a long time. As it was in "Beavis and Butthead beat the universe", the mother found out that her son had died and she "out of grief" put the house up for sale. Perhaps she hates her son and that's why she left him alone in her house, and she lives with some rich uncle. But in any case, she does not forget about Beavis and maybe they even see each other sometimes.
5. Butthead's uncle is the rich husband of Beavis' mom. That's why these two were merged together into one house. And the phrase "I fucked your mom" came to Butthead from his uncle when he told Beavis her as a child.
6. If you sleep with Beavis or Butt-head, then you will have a new Beavis or Butt-head, who will be 100% together again later. As it was with the fathers of Beavis and Butthead.
7. Butthead does not hate Beavis, on the contrary, he loves his friend for all his stupidity. And even when Beavis is talking complete nonsense and she annoys Butthead, he says the phrase "I'll pretend I didn't hear it." But in no way offends a friend for his mental abilities.
8. Butthead always followed the "Great Corn" not only to laugh, but he also kept an eye on Beavis so that he did not do things. Perhaps it was he who brought him home after the attack and followed him everywhere so as not to lose sight of him.
9. Beavis insanely likes abuse from Butthead, that's why when butthead became good, Beavis hated him. Perhaps he just lacks touch and tactility, that's why he found them in the strokes.
10. Beavis and Butt-head may be disappointed by the fact that after sex, nothing has changed in their lives and the guys, having fulfilled their dream, will come to the conclusion that they have no one but each other and nothing else and can not be. That's it!
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msbhagirathi · 6 months ago
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IPKKND LIVE BLOG SEASON 1 [Epi. 7]
Hi. Aa jaao. You already know what do we do here. Baith gaye? Chalo start. Acha. Ruko. Saath mein popcorns liya? Lol. :P Chalo aao ab start karte hein, serious :)
1. Bitwa's face tho. He seems to be so damn irritated. Anyways.
2. Uhhh.. Bitwa.. Your wife Khushi is talking about the harkat that you did back in Lucknow, a day or two ago. Don't play ignorant now, okay? I know, you very well understand what is she tryna say, uhh-huhhh. Acting smart.
3. And what the freaking hell was with that line, Bitwa? "Toh mere har kaam mein taang araana band karo." When did SHE taang araao in your 'kaam'? I don't remember. Is she already disturbing you in your sleep? Have you already started falling for her? I am so sorry to say this. But. You are such a gone case, Bitwa. Lol. Whatever.
4. You are tryna intimidate her but I think the one getting more intimidated is YOU, alone my dear Bitwa. She is very much at peace right now. Whatever.
5. Look at that two seconds satisfying smile, Bitwa flashes, when Khushi says, "Phir paisa?" Lol. He is definitely enjoying this.
6. Tryna provoke her, are we, Bitwa?
7. Look at his face when Khushi is giving her monologue of khuddari and udhaar nahi lete and all that. He is so freaking enjoying this. His face's like 'Her whole life is gonna feel like a lie to her once she knows the price money.'
8. Khushi ~very confidently so~ picks up her basta to fish out 'the price money'. She is actually ~oh so innocent~ y'all. Sometimes I feel like pulling her cheeks so hard. Kucchi pucchi ku you kiddo, you haven't even seen your neighborhood states, forget about seeing the world.
9. Actually, this fact might have further intrigued him more, that she is an eighteen year old, fresh out of school, middle class girl ~a literal nobody~ in front of him and yet her zeal, confidence and enthusiasm is unmatchable.
10. "Pacchis hazaar." and all the color rushes out of her face and she gives him a side glance like 'Duh. Really!? This giant oldie will take THAT MUCH for repairing?'
11. Arnav feels like he should cut some slack off for this girl, after all she have had to endure a lot because of his tape fiasco as she subtly hinted at when the conversation had begun.
12. So. Instead of further taking money from her, he decides to help her in his own ~I am the knight in shining armor for a damsel in distress like you~ (In one word: ARROGANT) way. He. Read it carefully. He GRABS her arm ~with that haq~ (excuse me sir? care to explain?) and places a new crisp one thousand rupee note and closes her palm. Uff. I will die of the intensity of haq he is exercising over her and the way she lets him do so without snatching away her hand. (Note that she would always snatch away her hand whenever Shyam would try to do something of that sort.)
13. "Khuddari ki baatein humesha bohot sasti hoti hain aur paisa bohot mehenga. Tum bhi yahin ho aur main bhi. We'll see." Kyun Bitwa? What happened to your two second old suggestion for Khushi to return back to Lucknow with the 'leftover money'? Do you not want your wife her to leave? Do you already want your wife her to stay around you as much as possible? Tum kya see karoge Bitwa hum tohka see karihein iske baad se haan.
14. "....Haan ab theek hai..." Kya theek hai Bitwa? Ya phir more like kaun theek hai? Tum? Ya woh fashion show wali ladki? Kya janna chah rahe the tum Bitwa? That Khushi is fine or not? And what happened to your 'das minute mein pahunch jaunga wali meeting' for which you couldn't 'waste' your precious time for the puja this morning? Who oh who will answer my goddamn questions? BTW, so men really do forget everything after meeting their wives huh? And I see our Bitwa is no exception. Lol. Whatever.
15. Wah wah 'tuuu ruru tuutuu rururu'(Lol. I have no fucking idea why did I add the bg sound for her here. Lol. Please bear with me.) MAMIJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII. Belcome Homes Mamiji.
16. Hahahaahahaahha. See y'all I seriously lost it jab mamiji ne touchwood bolke apna sir hi touch karliya. Lol. Whatever.
17. Vyjanthimala, huh? Really? Mamiji? Ok. Wait. Y'all. Lemme show you who is Vyjanthimala.
*runs to google to search up her name coz has no idea herself who she is*
*skims through the photos*
*is awestruck by her beauty*
*debates about the selection of photo*
*decides one and takes screenshot*
*adds it here along with the link*
Presenting y'all.
Vyjayanthimala.
Indian actress and dancer.
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This is Vyjanthimala. Of course, this is an old picture (She is ninety years old now. Wow. Can you believe it? This young beauty is ninety years old now.)
So. Yeah. Now you can see for yourself, who is she comparing herself with. Such heights of flattery for your own self, mamiji? Not good. (Utkarsha ma'am is of course very beautiful. I am just pointing out the character flaw, given to her, of over-glorifying herself and her sun and her huzbend and her phamily.)
18. She really 'thued' at her own reflection y'all. Lmao. I can't-*wheezes away for the next four business days*
19. Lol. I love mamaji and mamiji's banter y'all. The way mamaji compliments her and keeps his mouth shut when she gets irritated. Lmao. One of the relationships I so love throughout the show.
20. "Itni muskil se toh auda banaye, usko aise hi jaane de?" A little glossary here. Ohada means (as explained by my friend @phuljari di) (pad/sthaan/padwi in hindi) status like we see here mamiji had to do a lot to gain/earn a place in the Raizada Household. So it is actually very important for her to always look 'tip-taap' as she believes that only then, she would be accepted as a Raizada bahu if she 'looks' like it. I hope I was able to make it clear.
21. And here comes naniji. Looking for some Lakshmi.
22. Okay. So. One more thing. See how mamiji literally acts like a teenager as she kind of rebels against her order of coming down immediately. So she refuses to follow her order and tells her husband that she would arrive a few minutes later. Hmm. Speaks a lot about the kind of relation mamiji and her saas-o-maa share.
23. And look how naniji dismisses her as well saying that she isn't waiting for her but for the children.
24. See? You noticed how Bitwa tossed away Aakash's question about 'uss din wali ladki'? This also means nobody except Anjali Di know about the Lucknow fiasco. Also, look how he shook his head when Aakash offered to take legal action against her? Ufff. I will die of this protective-ness and possessive-ness already.
25. Do you too find Arnav's face particularly hot and delicious in this scene where he is talking to Aakash? Also I am kicking my legs and squealing at that dent wali line. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. God. Oh. God. Please save me.
26. And we are immediately taken to that 'uss din ladki' who has just returned from her trip to the pharmacy shop.
27. Shut up buaji. She had gone out running, only FOR YOU. Show some grateful-ness. Dammit.
28. We are again taken back to Shantivan.
29. The smart-ass Raizada brothers walk in, with full tashan. Everyone quickly dismiss themselves and nani and Arnav are left alone.
30. Wait. Look at nani's expression. Arnav gets the hint that she wants to speak to him about something. And the atmosphere quickly turns awkward as Arnav struggles to maintain small-talk. Asking about her trip and the facilities provided.
31. Nani explains him that she went to a pilgrimage, a place where one needs to do some hard work in order to receive the fruits of their prayers. Then she continues to say that this time she had gone there for him and Arnav is surprised, "Mere liye?" Look at the way he asks it. He definitely did not expect it.
32. But then nani continues to speak cryptically. "Jiss raftaar se aap chalat hain, uss raftaar per swayam ke alawa sab kuch dhundlaiye jaat hai." Arnav counters back, "Nani mujhe sab kuch saaf-saaf dikh raha hai." "Galat jagah dekh rahe hain aap. Sirf aage hi nahi nazar ghumaakar piche bhi dekh lijiye. Har pidhi aane wali pidhi ko kuch sikha ke jaat hai. Lekin jab raftaar thodi dhimi ho tabhi sahi galat ki pehchaan hui sakat hai." I want to process these lines some more then will let you know my views on this monologue.
33. Anjali di brings a white kurta for him which will undoubtedly go to the un-used collection of ethnics Arnav has.
34. She somehow senses his mood which is still sour from the lines nani spoke to him a few moments ago and the encounter he had with Khushi on the road. And di yet again reminds him of her. She tries to know about the incident but Arnav dodges it away by saying, "Kuch khaas nahi."
35. Khushi again has to bear the brunt of buaji's anger.
36. Buaji tell me one thing. Uncle ko koi uncle nahi bolega toh kya bolega. Uff. Somebody please help her.
37. And the moment she reminds her of 'paisa'. Khushi again immerses herself in the world of Laard guvunur and his pacchis hazaar(her oh-so-sweet escapism y'all ;) ).
38. Both the sisters go to the market to buy some sabzi. But Khushi cannot think anything else other than her woh. She literally said it. "Jiji WOH phirse mila tha." At this point, Khushi is just a lost case. Payal rightly points out her 'chain' has been 'chhined' by that LG.
39. Khushi explains her that her 'chain' will not be back until and unless she pays back the pacchis hazaar that she owes him.
40. Ew! Shyam enters with an umbrella. Ew. Ew. Ew. His cryptic words irks me to no extent. So maybe he had indeed planned the fight with those rogues in order to ensure that her parents would send her to Delhi. Whatever. Bye. I don't watch precaps.
P.S.: No P.S. Ghar jaao. Bye.
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Ok so this is for German bros week @germanbrosweek day 6 nightmare I didn’t proofread it but it is what it is.
It was 3 am and Gilbert Was sleeping soundly until he heard a knock on his bedroom door. He sat up and slowly made his way to the door. Barely awake he opens it. When he does his younger brother walks in and quickly sits on his older brother’s bed.
“Ludwig… why’re you in here?”
“I, I had a nightmare…”
“Ok, you’re 12. You know that right.”
“Ja…”
“You’re too old to be sleeping with me when you have a bad dream.” Gilbert says as he moves his brother off the bed.
“No, bruder!” Ludwig whines
“Nope, don’t bruder me. I want to sleep alone.” He says pushing his brother closer to the door
“Please.”
“Nein.”
“Please I won’t kick you in my sleep this time!”
“Nope, you can sleep on your own.”
“But I cant.”
“Yes you can.”
“No seriously, the nightmare was really bad.”
“Sure..”
“Seriously i can't sleep..” Gilbert stops pushing his brother out of his room and sighs.
“Fine, fine. Whatever.” He lets Ludwig crawl into his bed and reluctantly follows his younger brother. “You owe me.” He said in an annoyed tone.
“No I don’t.” His brother quickly replied.
Gilbert rolls his eyes and smacks him with a pillow. Ludwig then quickly grabs a different pillow and hits him back. Soon enough they were having a pillow fight. Gilbert throws a pillow and it hits Ludwig square in the face. He fell onto the bed but he quickly gets up. He then jumps up to smack Gilbert in the face with a pillow.
“Hey!” Gilbert laughs. “No fair.” He then grabs two pillows, and hits him with them at the same time. They both start laughing and then the door slams open. They both jump. “Oh, sorry vati…”Gilbert says
“BOYS! It’s too late to be doing this.. it’s 4 am. Go to sleep.” Germania says sternly. He shoots daggers at Gilbert and slams the door. Gilbert and Ludwig look at eachother.
“Well, let’s actually go to sleep.” Ludwig nods in agreement and they get ready for bed. Gilbert then realizes he never really asked him about his nightmare. “West-“
“Don’t call me west, it’s annoying.”
“…nein. What west is a nice nickname.”
“It’s not… it doesn’t make sense.”
“It does, plus if you could choose your nickname what would you want it to be.”
“….I don’t know ”
“So west stays. Anyways, what was your nightmare about.”
“You died.”
“WHAT?!… sorry, what.”
“Ja..”
“That’s why you wanted to sleep with me?” Ludwig nods seemingly like he’s somewhat ashamed. “Don’t worry, I’m too awesome to die.” Ludwig rolls his eyes.
“Goodnight.”
“Ok night west.” They then both drift off to sleep.
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simeonist · 8 months ago
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Wedding Lonely Devil Proposals Ranked Part 1
The wedding event has the boys pretend-propose to you and boy, it's like you're really there 😍 you're really there getting way too public proposals from some wild personalities and looolll it's a little painful.
For no real reason, I decided to rank the youngest six popping the question! I'm ranking the proposals themselves, not the boys. Lucifer will be ranked after everyone because I knew he was gonna pull some shit. And he did!
6. Belphegor
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...What the hell was this.
Belphie puts a ring on your finger after making you nap for one (1) minute. Then he asks you to marry him.
No, seriously. You can teleport all the beds you want and it doesn't change the fact that this was the lowest effort proposal by a long shot. If I liked Belphie, I would probably have found the [Sleep with me?] option charming. Since I don't, I'm just left wondering what the hell that was. 0 rings out of 5 boooo, boooo, booooo
5. Asmo
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I'll give him credit - I almost put him in fourth place solely for rose symbols alone. Are you offering me immortality? 👀 Hold on king, let's talk
Unfortunately, his proposal is just a plain old letter. A letter scavenger hunt that's literally just "look over here, now look over here, now look over here" is still a collection of plain old letters. It's a marked step above literally just putting a ring on your finger, but it's boring. I expected more than letters and some flowers from the flashy self-obsessed party boy. I was looking forward to an entertainingly selfish proposal and got nothing instead. 1 slice of wedding cake out of 5
4. Satan
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He almost had me, you know? Making a book for me? Star. He's never made this before but tried something new for my sake? Two stars. Getting red and huffy when confronted with what a sensitive and vulnerable gift this is? pingpingpingping you hear that? That's the sound of stars raining on down on this perfect proposal. Unfortunately...
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...the book is about him. He wrote a story about his struggles, his adventures, and you're, like, his epilogue? Not even a companion or an integral character. A last page introduction. The hero's reward for all their suffering. That's his proposal. A celebration of himself.
Satan's plummeted harder than his brothers did from heaven. I can't think of proposing to ME by writing a book about YOU as anything but conceited. And not in the charming way Mammon and Asmo can pull off. Levi might be socially clueless but at least he understands the role of the player/reader
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Write that shit again, clown.
1.5 hand stitched books out of 5.
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fayoftheforest · 2 years ago
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rating CATG based on how sickly I think they’d be <3
(part two to this post about the main five :)
Craig: 8/10. We’ve all heard this motherfucker speak. This guy’s sinuses are Fucked Up! He has a recurring case of the sniffles and he is not happy about it >:( He rarely gets seriously ill, but even a minor cold is enough to have him moping about with a cartoon rain cloud over his head. He is simply So Over being sick, and can you blame him? His sinus troubles often lead to headaches, or worse, earaches, which sucks major ass. No matter how much of a dickhead he may be, his pitiful appearance when ill is enough to melt even the coldest of hearts.
Clyde: 6/10. Oh my god, is this guy gross when he’s sick :/ You know those little kids who cough as loudly as possible with their eyes bugging out of their head, right into your fucking face? Clyde was that kid, and he never grew out of it. He is just simply so overwhelmed by how shitty he feels, that he feels the need to constantly remind everyone else of it too! Pity is his lifeblood. If he’s lucky, he’ll get a couple tuts and a “Poor thing,” and if he’s even luckier and has a Special Someone then perhaps they’ll agree to stroke his hair whilst he lies, snivelling, with his head in their lap.
Jimmy: 4/10. In contrast to Clyde, the absolute last thing he’s after is pity when he’s ill. He’s out here making crack-ups between coughs and grinning like this whole sickly business is some sort of private joke. People ask him how he’s feeling, and he’s like, never better lol! And they’re like, um?? Lol?? If things get bad, he will quietly ask a close friend or Special Someone for assistance, and whether they might be able to take care of him for a few days. He might secretly feel a little anxious about being a burden on his caretaker(s), but they reassure him that’s never the case, and he’s able to rest easy with them by his side until he recovers—goofing around all the while, of course.
Tolkien: 2/10. Being vitamin C’s number one biggest fan, Tolkien’s immune system is thriving. He rarely gets sick, which of course pisses off those in his life who do, because it’s Just Not Fair! Just because he gets a full nights sleep, eats plenty of fruit and veg, and regularly exercises doesn’t mean he should be able to float through life this easily! How dare he >:( On the occasion that he does fall ill, he will do the sensible thing and rest up until he’s feeling better. In doing so, he will be careful to isolate himself so that he doesn’t spread it around. Sure, he might get a little lonely, but he doesn’t mind too much, and reassures himself it’s the best thing to do right now. However, this gets his friends very worried because Tolkien is sick?? Sick all alone?? By himself?? With no one to help/make things worse?? Oh, that simply will not do! Cue the rest of the gang showing up unannounced at his door, interrupting his tranquillity to “take care of him”. He’s all, ‘Guys, you really shouldn’t be here, I’m contagious,’ but do those fuckers listen to him? Hell no! Which of course leads to the rest of the gang catching his cold, leaving him to deal with the fallout, exasperated. (But perhaps that’s for another post >:)
Tweek: 7/10. This guy never sleeps and lives on a diet of coffee beans which may or may not be laced with meth. You think he has what it takes to fight off a cold? Please. His immune system is in shambles. But because Tweek is already pale, with chapped lips and dark rings under his eyes, it’s hard to tell when he’s come down with something. The true tip off to his poor health is his drowsiness. His typical skittish, light-sleeper status is no more. You could crash symbols next to his ears and he’d just huff and roll over. No longer a nocturnal menace to society, Tweek is out cold by 7pm every night, and does not rouse until 11am the next morning, peppering the rest of the day with naps. During the fleeting moments when he’s awake, he is mumbling about headaches and a dry mouth, and how everything is terrible and life is just a never-ending cycle of suffering and anguish, or something. On the plus side, he will carelessly fall asleep cuddled up to whoever is sitting next to him on the couch, which is pretty cute.
Thanks for reading! I’d love to see your own headcanons & ratings too :)
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fan-a-saurus-rex · 2 months ago
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Hands to Myself | Part 3
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Plot: A few months have passed and none of your friends have suspected a thing about you and Harrison. Out of the blue he surprises you with a trip to the Greek island of Skopelos, the same island where the movie Mamma Mia was filmed. Alone time on an island far away from home will only fuel the fire of your relationship.
Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader
Warnings: swearing, smut
Masterlist
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“Seriously?!” I asked excitedly
“Yes babe, seriously, we’re going to Greece” he said smiling at me.
“When?” I asked
“We leave in 12 hours” he said chuckling at my excitement.
I smiled wide and jumped into his arms to hug him. He hugged me back “just the two of us, on an island far away from home, for two weeks”
I kissed his cheek “we should get packed” I said
He nodded “we should get some sleep too, we have an early flight”
“You gonna be able to keep your hands off me tonight?” I asked giggling
“I’ll try to behave” he said smirking.
We went into the bedroom and started to get some things around. In the past month, I had secretly moved into Harrison’s flat. I already spent so much time here anyway that moving in just made sense.
As we packed, I could feel that all too familiar urge pulling me towards Harrison. I wanted so badly to kiss him right now, but we needed to pack and at least attempt to get some sleep. I shook off the feelings and continued with my bags, reminding myself that I had two carefree weeks with him on a warm Mediterranean island.
After packing we had a quick dinner and promptly went to bed. As usual I kissed him goodnight, but had a hard time pulling myself away from his lips.
“Babe we need to sleep” he said chuckling against my lips.
“Just a few more minutes” I said giggling
“Fine” he said smirking against my lips, before kissing me back.
I smirked and kissed him deeply, climbing on top of him so I was straddling his torso. I could tell he was getting a bit turned on because he practically melted underneath me, cupping my face in his hands as he kissed me passionately. I was a bit turned on as well, but I knew we had to get some sleep.
I pulled away after a few more minutes and laid back down beside him. He pulled me closer to him, the two of us drifting off to sleep.
• • • • •
The next morning the alarm went off at 5:30am. We got dressed and loaded our bags into the car. We drive to the airport and went through the tedious process of checking our bags in and going through security. Eventually our 6:30am flight was ready to board. We had a 4 hour flight and a 45 minute ferry ride ahead of us before finally arriving in paradise for two weeks.
Once the flight had taken off I cuddled into Harrison’s side as we watched a movie on my phone. Even though I’d slept all night I was still pretty tired and ended up falling asleep. I woke up a few hours later to realize we’d be landing soon. I smiled excitedly looking out the window as we landed.
After getting off the plane and getting our bags we caught a cab to the nearest port and got on a ferry to take us to the island. I held onto Harrison’s hand as the ocean air blew around us on the boat ride. I could see the island in the distance and started to get even more excited.
Once we arrived on the island we grabbed our bags and boarded a Jeep, the driver taking us to the bungalow that Harrison has booked for us to stay in. It was amazing! It had a balcony that overlooked the ocean, a large king sized bed, and was in close proximity to the beach and other fun places to explore.
“Oh my god I can’t believe we’re staying here for 2 weeks!” I said excitedly as I looked out over the ocean.
“You like it?” I heard Harrison ask, smiling as he walked outside to see me
“I love it” I said wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him softly.
He kissed back for a few minutes before pulling away. “Would you like to get some lunch and head down to the beach?” He asked.
“Yes!” I said smiling.
“I figured you’d want food before doing anything” he said chuckling and taking my hand. We went down into the town and chose a small cafe near our bungalow.
We ordered some gyros and iced tea, eating outside on the patio to take in the sites. The town was small and cute, but with lots to do. The streets were bustling with people going to the shops and site-seeing.
After we finished eating we left a nice tip for our waitress then walked back to the bungalow to get ready to go to the beach.
I put on one of my new bikinis then went back to the bedroom to look for my sandals. Harrison walked into the room as I was I sliding my flip flops on and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Baby?”
“Yeah?” I asked, looking up at him.
He smirked at me “you look really hot in that bikini”
I smiled “thank you”
“You ready to go for a swim?” He asked kissing my cheek.
I nodded and grabbed his hand. The beach wasn’t very busy, but we were on a resort, so this plot of beach wasn’t open to the public, just the people staying at the local bungalows.
The water was super clear and blue and just the right temperature. I waded out into the shallow water, up to my hips and looked out at the sailboats in the distance.
I looked over at Harrison who seemed to be more interested in looking at me than the boats.
“Enjoying the view?” I asked teasingly.
“Definitely” he said chuckling, walking closer to me.
I splashed him playfully when he got close enough to me.
“Oh I see how it’s gonna be” he said laughing and splashing me back.
I squealed and we continued to splash each other until I realized he had gotten close enough for me to feel the heat from his skin. I looked up at him and he leaned down to kiss me.
I kissed back, knowing all too well that he was just doing this as a distraction. Soon enough, almost as soon as I predicted it, he picked me up and dragged me out into deeper water.
I couldn’t help but giggle a bit. He was significantly taller than me so even though the water was up to his shoulders, I wouldn’t be able to stand with my head above water. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed my forehead to his.
“You’re all mine for 2 weeks” he whispered
“I’m always yours” I said giggling
“True, but here we don’t have yo worry about getting caught, nobody knows us here”
I smiled “that is true”
“Which mean we can do this whenever we want…” he whispered before kissing me softly.
I smiled and kissed him back tangling my fingers in his wet hair. The kids got deeper and the all too familiar feeling of butterflies in my stomach hit me like a truck. I moaned softly, but loud enough for him to hear.
“Let’s go back to the room…” he whispered against my lips.
I bit my lip “I want you so bad”
With that he carried me into to shallower water and put me back down. He put his arm around me leading me back towards to the bungalow.
As soon as we ascended the stairs and got inside his lips were back on mine, his hands grabbing onto whatever they could get ahold of.
I pulled off his swim trunks as he untied my bikini top and the sides of my bikini bottoms. I wrapped my arms around his waist and he pinned me to the wall, kissing my neck.
I moaned softly, slowly reaching down and taking his semi-hard member in my hand, rubbing it slowly.
“Fuck babe” he groaned as he kissed down to my breasts, taking one in his mouth. I rubbed him harder and he groaned against my chest. I continued rubbing him faster, feeling him getting harder in my hand.
After a few minutes he picked me up and pinned me to the bed. I watched as he lined himself up to my center and slid in. We both moaned at the sudden contact with each other.
He started thrusting slowly at first but my small moans drove him crazy. He started going faster and deeper, which drove both of us insane.
“Fuck, Harrison! It feels so good!” I moaned
“Mm, you’re so tight!”
I moaned loudly, wanting more. More of his hands, more of his moans, more of his dirty words.
“Tell me about your fantasies” I breathed out “tell me about all the things you’ve ever wanted to do with me but never have”
He groaned, most likely thinking about it. “I’ve always wanted to fuck you in a public place” he groaned, thrusting deep. “The fear of getting caught is hot”
I moaned, thinking about it “we should do that while we’re here, sneak off into a quite alley”
“Ugh, babe, don’t tease me with that thought”
“I’m not teasing, I want to do it” I whispered in his ear.
“Fuck” he groaned.
I could tell it pushing him over the edge. His thrusts got deeper and harder, causing me to moans loudly. I was seeing stars.
“Babe, don’t stop” I said almost to my breaking point.
He continued going and I could tell he was close. We were both covered in sweat, panting and moaning each other’s names, so loudly the people in the nearby bungalows could probably hear. I figured they’d better get used to it, we were here for two weeks and couldn’t keep our hands off each other. In fact, I could tell that this wouldn’t be the only time we’d end up having sex today.
“Baby! I’m there!” He groaned, seconds before I felt his hot load dumping inside me.
“Harrison!” I moaned loudly, hitting my climax seconds later.
We both laid there panting, trying to catch our breath. I looked up at him and he smiled, kissing me softly. I kissed back, running my hands through his still damp hair.
“Shit, I love you” he said softly.
I smiled “I love you too”
It wasn’t the first time we had told each other that. We said it quite often actually, but whether or not those words held any truth was still a mystery to both of us. We did love each other, but in what way we were still unsure, but I had a fairly good idea of how I was feeling.
He played with my hair, running his fingers through it. “I’m glad I met you. You make me happier than anyone ever has”
I blushed “before I met you, I was lonely, pretending to be content with my life”
“Me too. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me”
I bit my lip “do you really love me?” I asked
“Of course I do”
“For real?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you love me, or are you in love with me?”
“At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you” He said, rubbing my cheek with his thumb.
I blushed and smiled “really?”
“Do you love me?” He asked
“Yes, and I’m falling deeper everyday” I said cupping his cheeks in my hands.
He smiled wide and kissed me passionately. We didn’t need to speak anymore words at this point. We both knew where this was headed and there was no turning back now.
* * * * *
To be continued…
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