#(there were two of them actually but i saw the second one when they were flying away) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gay-dorito-dust · 18 hours ago

Note

* re-corporates*

Hello again, sorry

Could I get some headcanons for a male [or gender nutral] reader who's a diva. Think the Emma frost kind. Bad bitch who's so cut throat when defending the team from the public view or like if Valentina is giving them shit.

"The only publicity cover up we need is that ratty wig you have on Valentina.😮‍💨>:["

However would literally lay down his life for anyone on the team and actively goes out of his way to make them more comfortable. Like demands them be treated well.

I love your work goodbye 👋

the second you all were called the new avengers, you wanted to wrangle Valentina's neck for the shit storm she was subjecting you all to.

You knew people wouldn't take too kindly to your group of assasins and super soldiers with blood on their hands being called a name that was once synonomous with indivisuals who might as well have been gods and worshiped as such.

you knew that things from here on out would be a constant uphill battle, where you'd be faced with countless obsticles for you and the team to overcome on your own.

after Yelena told Valentina that they 'own her now' you put your hand on the assassins shoulder, gave her a smile, before moving to lean towards Valentina where your smile became a malicious sneer. 'hopefully with all that money you'll get for these gullible lot, you'll be able to actually get your hair done professionally, and not have to rely on the bathroom mirror and the pair of siscors that i know you use to sort out those god awful dead ends of yours.'

you weren't done as you then later added. 'also if you try and use any one of my team as scapegoats in the media the second you can't control the narrative, i will come for your throat. do i make myself clear.' you threatned.

'crystal, you have my word.' Valentina replied with a tight lipped smile. you weren't convinced and she could tell, you would do anything in your power to keep your team safe, people you didn't give two shit about twenty mintues ago are now the people you would raise hell for in order to keep them out of the public eye should you see it was getting to them.

this mainly being john walker, whom seemingly only ever cared about how the general public and press saw him as; a failure replacement of steve rogers who went rouge and killed a man in broad daylight.

'i'll believe it when i see it De Fontaine. so actually try and make it believable.' you mockingly spat before taking your spot between Yelena and Alexei, flashing the public a fake smile that would've fooled anyone and everyone becuase it was just enough to keep people from looking at your teammates and keep the public focus on you and you alone.

you did not fuck about when it came to your teammates, you wanted them to be okay and to have a much more comfortable living within the tower, all the while trying not to wince and scowl at the...decorative choices Valentina made to the place and actively made the choice to throw them out. Ava and Yelena had once caught you hauling an ugly statue over your shoulder and asked what you were doing.

'i'm not allowing myself nor any or you to live with such an eyesore, the woman doesn't know fashion from trashion if it hit her in the face.' you told them before adding, 'oh also remind me to buy Bob a book shelf for his book nook along with another beanbag or at least a more comfotable loveseat to support his back, weighted throw blankets, weighted plushies and snug hoodie blankets. okay thanks!'

you do similar things for Yelena, Alexei, John and Ava by making their floors within the tower more tolerable, places where they can find respit in. For Yelena you got her food for Fanny and Houdini the guinea pig, even buying them better dog beds and cages for houdini to move and get exercise within, along with some new jewlery and fake plants to decorate the blandness of her window sill.

For Ava you got her some books, diaries for her to write her innermost thoughts in, movies that she missed out on and that you'd think she would like, art supplies so that she could get her feelings out on the canvas and most of them came out really beautiful and amazing that you began to make a room on her floor decked out as an art room for her to fully use at her complete disposal.

for Alexei you got him memorobilia of his golden days as Red Guardian, knowing how much he looked back on those days with pride, wanting nothing more to recapture it. You got a massive poster of the wheaties box with all of you on it to hang on his wall, since he wouldn’t stop talking about it. You even managed to find newspaper clips of the football team that he and Yelena talked about and had them framed and sat on his bedside table for easy accept for him to look at whenever he wanted to, much to Yelena’s dismay.

For John you made one of the rooms on his floor into a sort of relaxation room that you made sure had no wifi, no signal, nothing and force him to sit in his thoughts and just breath. You even got him some journals to go write in as he didn’t open up vocally about what he’s going through, so why not write instead. You pay homage to Lemar ‘Battlestar’ Hoskins too upon learning how close he and John were, knowing how his death had disturbed John to the core even to this day while not overstepping your boundaries upon this subject.

You were essentially their reminder to take it easier on themselves, to treat themselves better as you would force the team into activities that would prove beneficial for not only them, but to you all as a team. Movie and game nights, family dinners in the Kitchenette, team outings to a park or elsewhere when there wasn’t any missions to go on nor stupid press junkets that Valentina demands you all to attend.

‘Stop it.’ You took the vodka shot glasses from Alexei and Yelena.

‘Put it down.’ You confiscated John’s phone, pocketing it in your jeans.

‘Knock it off.’ You grab Ava by the elbow before she could phase through the wall, something she always did whenever you decided to rally the group.

‘Come one sweetheart, get in here.’ You gestured for Bob to step away from the stove where he was making breakfast for you all, wanting to make himself useful while he was learning to better understand his powers and their full extent, seeing the tired look upon his face.

You’d make them all stay in the living room won’t let anyone be left out, not stopping until all of you were laughing and having a good time, you just wanted them all to be okay and will fully intended to be harsh if you must to get the results you want from your group.

But you have days yourself when you couldn’t always protect your teammates, days where you were tired from the weight you’ve put on yourself in taking care for others over yourself that your team decided to step in themselves to help you for a change.

‘Come on, enough of that.’ John said as he took away your phone, pocketing it in his jeans as he guided you to the room he and the others had decked out just for you. It took them a week but it was worth it. fairy lights hung from the ceiling, bookshelves lined the walls, a projector was lying in wait to be used, loveseats were placed wherever possible along with little gifts each of the thunderbolts best suited you and your room.

Yelena- a collage of pictures of yourself and her along with the other team members falling asleep on one another during movie nights, having self care days or even having a makeshift fashion show in order to make you laugh with tears. A plushy that looked like Fanny and Houdini the guinea pig. It was the least she could do when you reminded her to put down the bottle, put down the phone and allow herself to be in the company of people who love her and were just as fucked up as her, grabbing her by the hand and dragging her out of the room and forcing her to talk Fanny for a walk.

Ava- a painting she made of you that was hung on the wall, trinkets to put in the alcove units John had installed, and even found a plush window sill seat should you ever want to look out the window without having to worry about a sore and numb ass afterwards. It was the least she could do when she needed to escape, phasing into your room and lying on your bed while you kept her company, making sure to keep some distance between each other as you knew touch was something she was iffy on especially when over exerting herself.

Bob- books that were well loved and well read by him that he’d thought and hoped would help you, the sweater you kept stealing from him, and a weighted plushy he had help picking out for you. He even picked out some vine wall decorations to hang over the bookshelves to give them a more fantasy feeling. It was the least he could do for the times you’ve stayed up with him when he couldn’t sleep, for opening your door for him whenever he needed to talk to someone, for giving him the tools to help better himself mentally.

Alexei- a massive poster of him as red guardian, a fishing rod for he drags you and the others to go fishing and vodka shot glasses, and flower table lights. Helped Ava set up the cushioned window sill seat. It was the least he could do for when you helped him take the opportunity to do something new with this second chance in the limelight, to do things he’s always wanted to do while also helping repair his and Yelena’s relationship in the process.

John- some throw blankets, cushions, put together alcove units for you to use however you saw fit. Also helped Ava and Alexei with the window sill seat as he claimed they were doing it wrong. It was the least he could do for the times where you’d pull him away from public view and practically shield him from view, from another bad new outlet about him for him to drown in later. Telling him that he owed them nothing.

You almost felt like crying upon seeing the room and the personal touches each of your team had left behind, you knew most of them fucking sucked as speaking their feelings but the fact that they had all come together just for you. It showed that they cared for you and acted as the biggest thank you you’ve ever received in your life, reminding you why you were so hellbent on keeping their heads above water, for moments like this where you could see them healing and accepting of themselves.

You were proud of your dysfunctional team, you would keep defending them until you couldn’t anymore, they still very much needed you but you needed them just as much and standing in the room they’ve took great care in crafting just for you only proved such.

‘Thank you.’ You said to them.

‘No,’ Alexei said, clapping you on the shoulder, ‘thank you.’

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nhmkhnh · 2 days ago

Text

heartbeats & half-court shots.

pairings: jock!ellie x brainiac!fem!reader

preface: when a jock can’t help but fall for the quiet genius across the campus, every game turns into a play for love.

author's note: alright I'm back, with another typical dynamics haha! enjoy!

wrn: lowercase, messy.

navigation.

ellie williams wasn’t a literature major, but she swore the girl sitting two rows in front of her in psych 101 had rewritten the entire definition of beauty. and intelligence. and everything that made ellie forget how to talk like a functioning human being.

she wasn’t even supposed to be in this class. joel had told her to pick up something “easy” to pad her gpa, but she had taken one look at the course registration and slammed “psych 101” the second she saw your name on the roster.

you weren’t flashy. you didn’t talk much unless it was to ask questions that had the professor raising his eyebrows like he wanted to write down your words. but you had that quiet charm—the kind that drew eyes without asking for them. and ellie? ellie had been down so bad since week one.

so today, when you walked past her table in the campus café with an armful of books and your laptop tucked under one arm, ellie stared just a little too long. which meant she saw it—your favorite pen—slip off the top of your stack and clatter onto the floor behind you.

ellie was on it like a hawk.

she snatched it up, barely resisting the urge to sniff it like a weirdo, and jumped up from her chair like she’d been called to serve.

“hey—uh, you dropped this!” she called, jogging after you.

you turned, and she almost tripped. god, that soft smile you gave her should be illegal.

“oh,” you said, brushing hair from your face, “thanks. i thought i heard something fall.”

ellie handed it to you. but she didn’t stop there.

“you dropped this… queen,” she added, a sly grin crawling onto her face.

your brows lifted, but instead of laughing at her, you actually smiled wider.

“smooth,” you said, gaze flicking down to the pen, then back to her. “did you come up with that on the spot?”

“born ready,” ellie lied.

you chuckled. “i’m impressed.”

you said it so casually, but ellie nearly exploded. blood rushed to her ears. she shoved her hands in her hoodie and nodded like she wasn’t dying inside.

“see you in psych,” you added, and turned away.

she stood there for a solid ten seconds after you left, staring at the pen-shaped gap in the air where you used to be. then she whispered to herself:

“…holy shit, it’s working.”

ellie was not failing psych 101. but she was not acing it either. not like you.

it wasn’t that she didn’t study. she did. in the locker room after practice. at the dining hall with one airpod in. she even tried those dumb tiktoks that played frequencies while you read. none of it stuck. her notes were 60% doodles of you and 40% semi-legible chicken scratch.

so when the professor casually announced a pop quiz next week and you groaned under your breath—ellie saw her moment. god had opened a door, and ellie was sprinting through it.

you were sitting on the quad, earbuds in, textbook open, a coffee cup tucked beside your knee like it was a limb. the sun hit your face like some kinda romcom filter. ellie nearly choked on her protein bar when she spotted you. but she wiped her hands on her sweatpants and approached like it was nothing.

“hey, einstein,” she greeted, shading her eyes and squinting at you. “studying for the quiz?”

you pulled out one earbud. “unfortunately.”

“cool, cool. you wanna quiz me?”

you blinked. “huh?”

ellie cleared her throat, then flopped onto the grass beside you, cross-legged like she belonged there. like this wasn’t the most nerve-wracking thing she’d done all month.

“you know,” she said, nudging her knee into yours. “i figured…you’re smart, i’m hot—we make a good team.”

you looked at her, head tilted slightly. “you’re hot?”

ellie grinned. “so people tell me.”

you laughed, soft and warm, and ellie felt it hit her like a wave to the ribs.

“…fine,” you said, flipping a page and scooting just a little closer. “what’s the difference between operant and classical conditioning?”

ellie stared at you blankly for a beat.

“okay, maybe we need to start… a little further back.”

you burst out laughing, the kind of full-body laugh that made people turn their heads, and ellie felt like she’d scored the game-winning goal.

“oh my god,” you wheezed. “you’re hopeless.”

“nah,” ellie said, cocky again. “just giving you an excuse to keep talking to me.”

you gave her a look. “you don’t need an excuse, ellie.”

she swore her heart dropped right out of her chest.

it started with a hoodie. not ellie’s. yours.

she’d been sitting at her usual bench after gym—drenched in sweat, headphones around her neck, sipping some godawful green smoothie—when she saw you across the courtyard, shivering under a tree. wind tugged at your sleeves, and you kept rubbing your arms like you’d forgotten how not to be cold.

ellie’s brain? gone. her legs? moving before she could stop them.

she bee-lined it to her gym bag, ripped out a hoodie that definitely still smelled like her deodorant and training sessions, and speed-walked to you like she was delivering a care package to the pope.

“hey,” she said casually (read: breathlessly), holding out the hoodie. “you look like a sad, cold baby bird.”

you blinked. “what?”

“i said—uh—cold,” she repeated, cheeks pink now. “here. take this.”

you stared at the hoodie, then at her. “won’t you be cold?”

ellie shrugged. “i’m built different.”

that got a smile out of you. you took the hoodie—hesitated—and then slowly tugged it over your head.

ellie blacked out a little.

it swallowed you. her name on the front. her scent everywhere. you were literally drowning in her, and somehow you still looked ethereal.

“how do i look?” you teased, turning your head to the side.

ellie pretended not to choke. “it’s giving… girlfriend behavior.”

you raised a brow. “oh yeah?”

“uh-huh,” ellie said, smirking now to cover her panic. “like… you borrow all my clothes, steal my fries, beg me to carry your bag—classic girlfriend shit.”

you tilted your head. “you want me to be your girlfriend, ellie?”

silence. ellie.exe stopped working.

you were grinning, teasing, but her whole body short-circuited like you’d just confessed to marrying her tomorrow.

“only if you’re cool with dating a sweaty gym rat,” she finally managed, voice cracking at the end.

you laughed, stepping closer until you were eye-level.

“i’ll think about it,” you whispered, before walking past her, casually, like you didn’t just end her entire career.

ellie didn’t move for five minutes.

she told jesse she saw god that day.

it started off innocent. ellie just needed help. you were a genius. easy math.

except it wasn’t math. it was psychology. and ellie didn’t want help—she wanted you. but asking you out felt like skydiving without a parachute, so she did what any emotionally repressed jock would do.

she called it a “study session.”

“you free tonight?” she asked casually after class, nudging your arm with her elbow.

you glanced over, already suspicious. “for what?”

ellie cleared her throat. “y’know. studying. the quiz is coming up. i could use a little… tutoring.”

you snorted. “you want me to tutor you?”

“hey, i’m coachable.”

you hummed, pretending to think it over. “fine. my place?”

ellie almost choked. “y–yeah. sure. cool. no big deal.”

it was a very big deal.

she showed up to your apartment looking like she’d rehearsed it five times. hair down. flannel open just enough to show a sliver of collarbone. two coffees in hand. (one was yours. she spent ten minutes texting dina about your starbucks order to get it right.)

“thanks,” you said, taking the drink. “you’re sweet.”

“only for you,” ellie replied before her brain could catch up.

your eyes lingered on her a second too long.

you sat cross-legged on your bed with your laptop open. ellie sat beside you, very aware of how close her thigh was to yours. she tried to focus. she really did.

but you smelled like coconut shampoo and lavender lotion and you kept leaning in to explain concepts in a soft little voice and every time your shoulder brushed hers she nearly blacked out.

“ellie?” you said after she hadn’t answered in a full minute.

“huh?”

“you’re staring at me.”

“i—i’m trying to understand reinforcement schedules,” she lied.

“really?” you asked, turning slightly, resting your cheek on your hand. “because i’m pretty sure you’ve been looking at me for the last twenty minutes.”

ellie’s soul left her body.

she opened her mouth. closed it. considered jumping out your window.

you laughed softly, then nudged her foot with yours under the blanket.

“it’s okay,” you said. “i don’t mind when you stare.”

ellie forgot what a textbook was.

ellie was not in her right mind today. she hadn’t slept. she’d had an energy drink the size of her head. and you were wearing that outfit—the oversized sweater, the cute little skirt, the lip gloss that made her want to bite a desk.

so naturally, she did what any sleep-deprived jock with a hopeless crush would do:

she walked straight up to you and dropped the dumbest pickup line known to mankind.

you were at your locker, swapping out books, earbuds in. ellie tapped your shoulder like she had something urgent to say.

“hey,” she said, breathless. “emergency.”

you blinked, tugging your earbud out. “what?”

“i just—i need you to know,” ellie panted dramatically, “i have two brain cells. and they’re both in love with you.”

you stared at her.

she stared back, hands on her knees like she’d just run a mile.

silence.

then you burst out laughing.

like, hands-on-the-locker, eyes-scrunched, full-body laughter. students turned their heads. ellie grinned like an idiot.

“ellie, what the hell was that?” you managed between giggles.

“peak rizz,” she said proudly. “did it work?”

you didn’t say anything. just looked at her with that same amused, sweet stare and then leaned in—real close—and whispered:

“maybe i’ll let one of your brain cells take me out sometime.”

ellie made a sound that could only be described as feral.

she fist-pumped the air the second you turned away and accidentally hit a locker so hard it echoed through the hall.

jesse texted her 0.3 seconds later:

“yo?? why did i just hear a whole concussion outside chem lab??”

ellie was pacing. in the dining hall. like a psycho.

she saw you sitting alone with your little fruit cup and your leg bouncing and your airpods in like some perfect, unattainable indie movie girl, and suddenly all her usual rizz evaporated. she had nothing.

not a single brain cell willing to help.

so she did what any disaster lesbian would do.

she googled pickup lines in the hallway.

jesse watched her from afar like he was witnessing a slow-motion car crash. “you’re insane,” he said. “i’m in love,” ellie hissed, typing “funny but hot pickup lines lesbian” with one hand.

ten minutes later, she marched up to your table like she wasn’t about to risk every ounce of her dignity.

you looked up. smiled. “hey.”

ellie slammed her tray down and sat across from you, eyes wide, breathing like she’d just run suicides.

“do you—do you believe in love at first sight,” she blurted, “or should i walk by again?”

you blinked.

ellie blinked back.

“…you okay?” you asked slowly.

ellie pointed at her chest. “heart. yours. take it.”

you snorted into your drink. “ellie.”

“i’m serious,” she said, leaning forward. “i’m already planning our future. we’ll have a cat named mozzarella. we’ll fight about paint colors. you’ll win.”

you tried not to laugh. “i think you’ve had too much caffeine.”

“i think you’ve had too little me.”

you died.

right then and there. full-on laugh, head thrown back, fruit cup forgotten. ellie had never felt more victorious in her entire life.

and then—then—you reached over and plucked a grape from her tray.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” you said, popping it in your mouth.

ellie stared, slack-jawed. she didn’t even like grapes. but now they were her favorite fruit.

it was game day. ellie was locked in—fully focused, headphones in, cleats on, pacing like a wolf in the tunnel. until—

you walked in wearing her team colors.

not just any colors. her number. on your cheek. in glitter. and her name on your back. in bold black letters.

she actually stumbled. tripped on air. almost faceplanted into the locker door.

you smiled all innocent. “hi, captain.”

ellie grabbed the wall. “you—are you trying to kill me?”

you twirled once. “do i look good?”

“you look like my future wife,” ellie muttered.

“what?”

“you look good,” ellie shouted a little too loudly. “like—very. very good. like i might forget how to play soccer and run in circles kind of good.”

you laughed, stepping into her space. “maybe i wanted to distract you.”

ellie narrowed her eyes. “that’s foul play.”

you smirked. “you gonna card me?”

“i might have to bench myself instead,” she muttered.

and then—god help her—you tugged the collar of her jersey.

“next game,” you whispered, “let me borrow the real thing.”

ellie blinked. “the—my jersey?”

“or your last name,” you said sweetly, then walked off like you didn’t just set her whole soul on fire.

ellie just stood there.

a full minute later, the coach walked in, slapped her on the back, and said, “jesus, who turned you into a tomato?”

ellie didn’t answer. she was too busy texting jesse:

bro. she wants to wear my LAST NAME. i’m gonna throw up. she’s gonna marry me. this is it.

it was quiet.

dead quiet.

and ellie? ellie was suffering.

not because of the exam. not because of the overdue essay. no—because you were sitting across from her in the campus library, hoodie falling off one shoulder, lip tucked between your teeth, reading with those cute little glasses on.

and every time you looked up, ellie would pretend to be writing something. she wasn’t. she was drawing hearts in the margins of her notebook like a 13-year-old at a sleepover.

you glanced up again. caught her. again.

raised an eyebrow like, you good?

ellie immediately held up a random flashcard to cover her face. it said: "operant conditioning is…" (she did not know what operant conditioning was.)

you giggled.

she peeked over the top. “i—uh—i’m studying,” she whispered.

you smirked. “really? because you’ve highlighted the same sentence three times.”

ellie looked down. the page was glowing yellow. “okay maybe i’m… distracted.”

you leaned forward across the table, chin in your palm, voice soft: “what’s distracting you?”

ellie’s brain fried like a cheap toaster. “you. it’s you. you’re distracting me. you’ve been distracting me since the first time i saw you laugh in bio and i can’t focus on neurons when all i want is to hold your hand in the student union.”

…

you blinked. ellie blinked.

that was supposed to stay in her head.

“oh my god,” she whispered. “i—i blacked out. did i say that out loud?”

you nodded slowly. “every word.”

ellie pushed back from the table, fully ready to fake a fire drill just to flee the building.

but then—you reached out.

touched her hand.

and smiled.

“meet me here tomorrow?” you asked. “same time?”

ellie swallowed. nodded. nearly choked.

and when she got back to her dorm, she texted dina in all caps:

BRO I ACCIDENTALLY RIZZED HER IN THE LIBRARY IT WORKED?????? SHES COMING BACK I THINK THIS IS WHAT TRUE LOVE FEELS LIKE

group projects were hell.

ellie hated them. she hated presentations, she hated color-coded slides, and she really hated wearing a button-down shirt like some kind of presentable human being.

but you?

you were thriving.

all calm and smart and perfect, typing fast on your laptop and explaining things with that teacher voice that made ellie want to combust. you even said “we should keep it concise for flow,” and ellie nearly proposed on the spot.

so naturally… she picked a fight.

“i mean,” ellie said, sprawled across her chair with a lollipop in her mouth, “we could do it your way, or we could do it the cool way.”

you didn’t look up. “is the cool way the one where we fail?”

jesse snorted.

ellie pointed her lollipop at you like a sword. “ma’am. i’ll have you know, my cool way once got me a c+.”

“that explains so much,” you muttered, typing.

ellie leaned in. “okay, you wound me. but that’s fine. i like a little pain. makes me feel alive.”

you looked up. finally. raised an eyebrow.

“do you flirt like this with everyone you disagree with?” you asked.

ellie smirked. “only the ones i want to marry.”

jesse audibly choked on his coffee.

you blinked. slowly.

ellie blinked back. stared. gave you the most stupidly confident look known to womankind.

you tilted your head. “if we were lab partners, you’d contaminate the whole experiment.”

“if we were lab partners,” ellie shot back, “i’d mix our dna.”

you stared.

ellie licked her lollipop and winked. “mitochondria’s the powerhouse of my feelings for you.”

you pressed your palm to your face, but you were laughing. and red. like so red. and when you handed her your notes later, there was a tiny heart next to her name.

ellie stared at it for twenty minutes.

she kept the paper in her backpack. still has it. probably framed it.

it was raining.

hard.

the kind of rain that turned sidewalks into rivers and drowned out every thought in your head.

you were standing under the bus stop awning, soaked through, breath fogging in the cold. and then—you heard her.

“hey!”

you turned.

ellie sprinted up, hoodie plastered to her skin, chest heaving, soaked curls sticking to her face like she’d run through the whole damn storm just to get to you. (which she had.)

you stared. “ellie?! what the hell—”

“i need to say something,” she cut in, voice too loud, too urgent.

“ellie, you’re drenched—”

“i like you.”

you froze.

“i—no—i’m in love with you, okay? i tried the whole chill thing, i tried being smooth, i tried pickup lines and study sessions and pretending i didn’t stare at your mouth like it’s the only thing that makes me believe in god—” ellie was rambling now, hands flailing, voice breaking. “but it’s you. it’s always been you. every time you smile at me, i forget my name. every time you laugh, it’s like my entire brain just short-circuits. you’re—fuck, you’re everything.”

you stared at her, breath caught.

ellie swallowed. “and i know i joke a lot, but i’m serious. if you told me to walk across this whole campus barefoot just to hold your hand, i’d do it. i’d run. i’d run faster than i did just now, and i nearly ate shit in front of two frat guys and a goose.”

you blinked. “…a goose?”

“irrelevant.” ellie stepped forward, eyes shining. “all that matters is you. so, please. just—say something. or kiss me. or slap me. i’ll take anything.”

a pause.

the rain roared.

and then—you stepped into her chest. pulled her by the soaked strings of her hoodie.

and kissed her.

hard. soft. all at once.

ellie made a sound like she'd just flatlined and came back to life. her arms locked around your waist like you were the last solid thing in the world, like she could finally breathe. your fingers curled into her hair, and she just melted into you, every part of her soaked and shaking and alive.

you broke apart, gasping. foreheads pressed.

“i like you too,” you whispered.

ellie blinked.

then laughed.

then kissed you again, grinning like an idiot.

and when jesse passed by ten minutes later and saw you two making out under the storm, he just shook his head and muttered, “goddamn. finally.”

AHHHHHHH THANK YOU TO ALL MY DARLING GIRLS ATTENDED TO MY TED TALKS TODAY!! LOVE U ALL! <33

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #tlou

221 notes · View notes

paucubarsisimp · 10 hours ago

Note

Can you pls make a Pau Cubarsí imagine

Like him running immediately to reader after the game where they won La Liga yesterday. Him being all happy and smiling with her. Saying he couldn’t have made it without her. Just him being lovesick after the reader and his teammates teasing him for immediately running to reader and celebrating with her instead of them

🤍

campeon

pairing: pau cubarsí x reader

summary: in which pau carries you home

warnings: none!

the whistle blew.

confetti exploded into the sky, the stadium roared like thunder, and just like that—barça were la liga champions.

pau cubarsí dropped to his knees, hands in his hair, eyes wide with disbelief and joy and everything in between. teammates swarmed around him, hugging, shouting, lifting one another off the ground in celebration.

but pau’s eyes were scanning the stands.

he barely heard the congratulations. barely processed the camera flashes or the chants echoing his name. because all he could think was: where is she? where is she? where is she?

and then he saw you.

standing just off the sidelines, wearing his jersey, eyes shining with pride and tears and love.

without a second thought, he ran.

“oh my god, he’s gone,” gavi laughed behind him, watching pau absolutely bolt past the press.

“bro didn’t even hug us first,” ferran snorted, shaking his head.

but pau didn’t care. not even a little.

he reached you in seconds, wrapping his arms around you so tightly he nearly knocked you off your feet. he spun you once, laughing breathlessly, before burying his face in your shoulder.

“we did it,” he whispered, voice thick. “we actually did it.”

you cupped his face, thumbs brushing over the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “you did it, pau. you were incredible.”

“no,” he said instantly, shaking his head as his forehead pressed to yours. “we did. i couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

you smiled, brushing his curls back. “yes, you could’ve—”

“nope,” he interrupted, already leaning in for a kiss. “don’t even try. no version of this exists without you.”

his lips found yours in the middle of the chaos, slow and full of every unspoken word in his heart. and when he pulled back, he just looked at you, completely in awe.

“you’re the reason i breathe easier,” he said softly. “when the pressure gets heavy, when people doubt me, when i doubt myself… you’re always there. you believe in me so hard it makes me believe too.”

his arms tightened around you like he was afraid you’d vanish. “i love you so much, it hurts. you’re the first person i want to run to when something amazing happens. you’re my win.”

your eyes watered, and you kissed his cheek, his nose, his forehead, his lips again. “i love you, pau.”

behind you, a few teammates passed by, grinning and very obviously eavesdropping.

“oi! romeo! save some for later!” lamine called.

“someone’s very whipped,” héctor added with a smirk.

pau just turned, still holding you, and yelled, “jealousy is a disease!”

they all laughed, but pau didn’t care. he turned back to you, his whole face glowing, and whispered, “they can tease all they want. i’m exactly where i’m meant to be.”

he held you through the celebrations, through the fireworks and the press and the chaos. his medal around his neck, your hand in his.

and later, when the stadium lights dimmed and it was just the two of you walking the pitch under the stars, he stopped, looked at you like you were the only thing in the universe, and said:

“la liga is amazing. but loving you? that’s the real dream.”

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @hollyf1,@mxryxmfooty, @halfwayhearted lmk if you want to be added!

#fc barcelona #football #footballer x reader #football imagine #pau cubarsi #pau cubarsí #pau cubarsi x reader #pau cubarsí x reader #pau cubarsi imagine #pau cubarsi fic #pau cubarsí x y/n #pau cubarsí x you #pau cubarsí imagine #pau cubarsi x you #pau cubarsi fluff

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peachhcs · 7 hours ago

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i saw this tiktok and it was like media girls asking players who there favourite female athlete was and maybe you could write something like that of guys mentioning samy hahahah just hyping her up

WAIT YESSSS i like that because they'd definitely say her just because of how much they adore her and you knoww will is saying her immediately

au masterlist

the boys had never been too into media, especially when it was just answering the same questions over and over. it got old fast and most of the time the social media interns were catching them at their worst moments like after a hard practice or after losing a game, but today seemed like a good day. vicky, the boston college media girl, stood at the entrance to the locker room as the boys came off the ice to grab some quick content for instagram.

"uh oh, vicky's here, you know what that means," drew teased when he saw the girl with her phone and microphone.

"hi, yeah more media. sorry boys," she giggled.

"don't apologize, i'm ready. hit me with whatever you got," drew encouraged as aram, fowler, and vote walked in behind him seconds later.

"you three can join in too, but i'm doing a little series of getting to know the players better, so today's question is who is your favorite female athlete?" she handed drew the mic as the boy pondered his answer.

"oh easy, samy hughes," aram quickly answered with a smile.

"oh agreed. she's a fucking beast," the others quickly agreed after hearing aram mention the michigan soccer player.

"if you haven't seen her play yet, you better go watch one of her games. she knows her shit out there. i've never seen someone so confident on the field before," aram stole the mic to continue his thought.

"i was gonna say her but i didn't know if it would be weird," drew laughed.

"dude why would it be weird? she's our friend," fowler laughed too.

"yeah there are people probably so jealous we can say that," aram commented. vicky grinned at their answers and let them go as more boys came back from practice.

some of the older boys mentioned people like livy dunne, caitlin clark, and paige buckers, but when ryan, gabe, and james came in they were also quick to bring up samy's name.

"favorite female athlete? definitely samy. have you seen her play?" ryan chuckled while the other two nodded in agreement.

"i would also say my own girlfriend, hannah duke," james cut in with a shy blush.

"ah, yes, yes. well you've got your own girl," gabe teased a bit.

"although, both are very good athletes, so i'd say both," the freshman smiled.

"she's scored how many career points? like 100? she had her 100th celebration senior year," ryan said.

"yeah, she's probably close to like 200 now," gabe added.

over in san jose, a similar video was being filmed with the sharks players after they finished practice. will and mack exchanged a glance when they saw the two interns grinning at them with a microphone in one of their hands.

"hi, you know what time it is," vanessa laughed.

"can't evade this time. what's the question today?" mack wondered as him and will stopped to entertain their video.

"who is your favorite female athlete?" vanessa asked and chloe held the mic out for them.

"easy answer, my girlfriend. samy hughes," will quickly grinned without hesitation.

"i'd have to agree and also say my girlfriend, blaire stevenson," mack added.

"can you tell us why?"

"uh, she has a lot of dedication and has put a lot of time into the women's soccer team. she has successfully led them to the ncaa finals since her freshman year and helped win them their first national title in years," will said.

"i echo everything he said about samy. i've never been too into american soccer, but watching samy play is actually like super incredible to watch. she has a lot of raw talent and it's really cool to see her use it. my girlfriend is also a very talented figure skater and i envy the grace she has on the ice. it blows me away every time i watch a meet," macklin grinned.

"awesome answers, thanks guys!" vanessa and chloe waved as the two boys continued to the locker room.

when the videos were posted everyone was gushing about how quick the boys brought up samy and how endearing it was to see how much they love her (platonically and romantically).

comments

user1 STOP this was so cute?? all of the dev boys said samy awww

user2 i actually love how close they all are with samy and it's so cutie to see

user3 wow i knew they loved her but i didn't know this much. i loved seeing them gush about her

user4 u knowww she's so loved by them

user5 oh i'd know they'd do anything for her if she asked

user6 stop will was so quick to say samy

user7 will's blush awwww

user8 i hope they're all friends forever they're so cute

user9 where do i find friends like this????

user10 wait babiesss aw

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kier-with-a-k · 2 days ago

Text

RENEGADE - N. S.

Part 2 of one of your girls

A/N: AHHH!!! This is lowkey not my best! But yk I always try and I am improving I can feel it in my cheeks!

Warning: slight angst!

Nick's POV

"I tapped on your window on your darkest night

The shape of you was jagged and weak"

Weeks had past.

I haven't really been talking to Francis ever since... That night happened.

He's been messaging me every other day since then.

At first they were just memes, pictures of various cats and dogs that have tiny little texts on them. He'd add "omg so you" and a laughing emoji.

Then it escalates. Texts about how sorry he is, and he never meant on leading me on.

---

"And if you wanna, you can slide

And if it helps you sleep at night

You don't have to tell me why"

He hasn’t messaged again.

Maybe he finally got it. Maybe he finally felt the ache I’ve been swallowing for months.

Or maybe… he just forgot.

I stare at the string of our texts. All the blue bubbles from me that say too little, and all the gray ones from him that say too much—but never what I actually need.

I don’t delete them. I never do.

Even if every word feels like a bruise now.

---

I’m back at the lake. The real one this time.

It’s off-season, so no one’s here. Just the wind and the crunch of frostbitten grass beneath my boots.

I stand at the edge of the dock, the wood groaning under me like it remembers too.

I took that photo here.

Francis mid-air. Water exploding around him.

He laughed so hard that day. He said, “Bet you didn’t get it.”

I did. Of course I did.

I always captured him perfectly. It’s just... he never really saw me back.

I sit down. Pull my camera from my bag. I haven’t used it since… him.

But I raise it anyway, out of muscle memory more than anything else. I point it at the empty sky, the still lake, the place where he used to stand.

Click.

Silence.

Click.

And somehow, every photo feels lonelier than the last.

---

"So, you run, with your eyes closed

You run from the sun

And you don't know why"

Madi texts me again.

[Madi]: u okay?? haven’t heard from u since the shoot.

I don’t reply right away. I just stare at her message and think about how many people I’ve shut out while chasing a boy who never once reached for me in the light.

I type:

[me]: yeah. kinda.

[Madi]: i’m proud of u. even for saying kinda.

---

Francis shows up at my house that night.

No text. No warning. Just there, in the driveway, red hair under the glow of the porchlight.

I don’t open the door. I just look at him through the curtain.

He stares at the door like he’s willing it to open. Hands in his pockets. Jaw tight like he’s fighting the urge to knock.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he leaves something in the mailbox.

Then walks away.

I wait five minutes. Ten.

Then I go out and pull it out.

It’s the photo. The lake house one.

But on the back, he’s written:

> “I’m sorry I didn’t know how to love you back.”

That’s all it says.

No excuses. No late-night texts. No calls.

Just… that.

And for once, I think maybe that’s enough.

Not to fix it.

But to let it go.

---

One Month Later

---

I get into a photography program.

Madi screams when I tell her. My mom cries. Matt and Chris fist-bumps me and says, “Knew you’d do it.”

I take fewer photos of people now.

Fewer photos of boys who only come around when the lights are off.

I still think of him sometimes.

When I see something red.

When I hear someone laugh too hard.

But it doesn’t ache the same way anymore.

It’s softer now. Quieter.

Like a song you used to love, fading in the distance.

---

Francis’ POV

"Is it really your anxiety

That stops you from giving me everything?"

It’s been a month.

Thirty-two days, actually.

I’ve counted.

Worse than that—I’ve felt every one.

The first week, I kept thinking he’d text.

Second week, I kept almost texting him.

By the third, I stopped pretending I didn’t miss him.

And now? Now I’m just angry at myself for not knowing it sooner. For not being brave when it would’ve mattered.

---

I saw him through the window of that café by campus.

He was laughing. Really laughing.

Madi was across from him, waving a film roll in his face. He leaned back in his seat, eyes bright, face tilted toward the sun like he belonged there—like the world had finally let him breathe again.

I didn’t go in.

Just stood there, half-shadowed by the doorframe like a coward.

He didn’t see me.

But I saw everything.

I saw what he looks like when he’s not carrying my silence. When he’s not waiting for some midnight version of me to crawl into his bed and call it closeness.

And I realized something awful:

He was never the secret.

I was.

---

"I was just caught in the headlights

I was just feeding the flame

You were just second-hand heartbreak

You were just someone to blame"

I haven’t kissed anyone since. Haven’t even tried.

Sarah dumped me. Said I was somewhere else all the time. Said I looked like I was mourning something I couldn’t name.

She was right.

I told her I was sorry.

I didn’t say for what.

---

I still sleep with the photo beside my bed.

The one from the lake.

The one he took.

I don’t know why I keep it.

It feels like some kind of quiet punishment. A reminder of who I was before I knew what I was doing. Before I saw what he meant.

---

"Is it really your fault if you don't see what you're running from?"

I go back to the dock.

Not to recreate anything. Not to chase ghosts.

Just to be there.

I sit on the same wood where he must’ve sat. Camera probably balanced in his lap. Eyes set on nothing, but seeing everything. The way he always did.

I wish I could tell him I wasn’t lying when I said he mattered. I just didn’t know how to show it without setting my whole life on fire.

But maybe I should’ve let it burn.

Because what's left now?

Me.

The dock.

And a silence that’s all mine to carry.

---

The Message I Don’t Send:

> “I didn’t deserve the way you looked at me.

But I want you to know—I see it now.

I see you.

And I hope someone else does too. Someone braver than me.”

---

I delete it.

Because he doesn’t need my guilt.

He needs freedom.

And I think for once—

Loving him means not dragging him back into the dark I refused to leave.

---

A/N: TY FOR READING Y'ALL!!! if y'all enjoyed this please reblog it!!! TY for my sister @sturnsblogs for proofreading it!

Taglist: @sturnsblogs @thenickgirl @bambisturns @nickssidewitch @emeraldsturns @httpsturns @sturns-mermaid @sarahsturnn @oopsiedaisydeer @fentiesturns @jacksonsturniolo

Deviders by the @bernardsbendystraws

#kier writes #Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #certified yapper #sturniolo #the sturniolos

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sweetestberryofthebunch · 21 hours ago

Text

𝒜𝒜𝒜 𝒲𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝟣: 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎

I Get So Jealous (BloodPotions)

They made it off the Road alive, but not unscathed. When Alice seeks help from her Coven with the Scars from her Curse, Jen insists she’s the person who can help her, better than anyone else, even Rio. Especially Rio.

Happy AAA Week everyone! Really wanted to contribute some Bloodpotions because I think they deserve more love. I pretty much put on Tegan and Sara and just went at it for this one.

Divider from @bernardsbendystraws

Content/Warnings: Mention of Injury and tending to wounds, Alice has Trauma Jen has PTSD they’ve all been through it, Jealousy makes people mean sometimes, Hurt/Comfort, YE OLDE WHUMP

Read on ao3

@agathaallalongweek

It started just a few days after they left the Road. A hot, singing pain in her shoulder, where the deep scar of her broken curse sat, pulsating on waves of pain.

Alice lay in her bed, her own, warm bed, safely at home, far, far away from the recording studio on the Road, from the fire and the curse. And yet all she could do was writhe and shake until the episode was over, the memories flashing before her eyes like highway lights.

If she could trust the clock on her phone, all of that had taken merely a few seconds.

The next morning, she dropped her mug of boiling hot tea in a cry of pain, curling up on her tiled kitchen floor, the faint, blood curdling cries of the curse being broken rushing through her ears. The beat of the ballad drumming in her ears was suffocating. That time, it took hours until the phantom pain was truly gone. And Alice knew she had to do something about it.

All of them had returned back to the real world with scars of their own.

Lilia looked like she had fought off a whole forest of wild animals, which, in a way she had. There was a bite mark on her leg where the Salem Seven wolf had sunk its teeth into her, and a gnarly scar above her right eye where the crow had pried at her face. But she held her head high nonetheless.

Billy seemed even paler than before, and a lot of Coven meetings were spent on reassuring the poor boy that they all forgave him. He was more determined than ever to learn and practice his magic, so something like the Road could never happen ever again. But there was the unmistakable emptiness in his eyes that you only saw in a kid that had seen things it shouldn’t have.

Agatha‘s arms and chest were littered in thin, black tendrils, the remains of Death Magic entering her body, even for just a moment. However, she seemed to be the only one who approached the change with a sense of pride. The next time Alice stopped by the Bohner residency, Agatha wore a low cut shirt, sleeves rolled up to show off her newest battle scars, including a single, dark purple hickey sitting right between her collarbones, between dark tendrils of black on her skin. Whatever consequences her short encounter with Death (actual Dying, not whatever her and Rio had going on) had, the two had certainly figured out their differences since.

Jen did a good job at pretending everything was fine, after all, she made it out unscorched, unlike her coven members. But the first night back, when they’d all collectively decided to crash at Agatha‘s place, the potions witch had cried in her sleep. Curled up on Agatha‘s (technically Ralph Bohner‘s?) worn out couch, sharing a thin blanket with Lilia, her body had shaken with gasps and sobs, tears staining her makeshift sleep mask.

Billy, the poor, exhausted boy, was out cold on the floor besides Alice, and Lilia slept with ear plugs. But Alice had heard her, and the sound wrapped around her heart like a cold, clamping fist.

One of Jen‘s hands had fallen off the edge of the couch. And silently, carefully not to wake her up, Alice had reached for it, fingers lacing through Jen‘s, thumb running little circles over the back of her hand. Even before falling asleep on an old couch after the wildest adventure of their lives, Jen had somehow found lotion for her hands, the skin soft to the touch, smooth underneath Alice‘s callused fingertips.

She‘d held her hand until the crying stopped, and then she kept holding it as Alice herself drifted back to sleep.

The next morning, neither of them said a word of it, and if anyone else noticed, they did not mention it either. But, Alice knew that Jen, too, suffered from what they’d been through on the road. She was just determined not to let it show.

A luxury that the younger woman sadly didn‘t have.

The day after her second episode in the kitchen, Alice texted their coven group chat, and got in her car to drive out to the Bohner House again.

They assembled around the kitchen Island, each of them a steaming hot drink in hand (Black Tea for Agatha and Lilia, peppermint for Rio, hot cocoa for Billy and Alice, Jen had bought herself a matcha on the way here).

As Rio was stirring a mysterious stew boiling on the stove, Alice explained what had happened.

„Has anyone else been getting … pains?“, she glanced at Agatha, once again sporting a shirt that showed off her newest scars, and the marks of teeth right underneath her right ear, to Lilia, who tried her best to cover up the scar on her brow with powder, but to no avail.

„It feels like I‘m being cursed all over again.“

„You‘re not“, Rio turned around at that, her tone unusually serious. She hadn’t talked a lot to the other coven members since the reveal of her true identity. It was just somewhat of a big, deadly elephant in the room. But the other night Alice had sent her a meme about a succulent, and Rio had replied with a blurry selfie of her laughing.

Now she stood across the kitchen island, dark eyes fixed on Alice not menacingly, but with genuine concern, brow furrowed in deep thought. Even Agatha seemed surprised at the deity’s intensity

„Your curse was broken when it burned out, I felt it die.“ Her dark eyes found Alice‘s shoulder, like she could see right through the fabric of her shirt at the scorched skin. Ever since the Spirit Trial, Alice‘s scar had taken a slight purple colour, something the entire coven tried hard to just never point out.

Suddenly, Agatha was extremely busy playing with her hair, shuffling ever so slightly behind her partner.

„You said you can hear the cries of the breaking curse? And the ballad we sang?“ Rio asked, and Agatha opened her mouth to interrupt, but The Green Witch merely had to lift a single finger in her direction to shut her up.

Besides Alice, Jen watched the interaction with a smirk on her face. „I think I like having her around.“

Eyes darker than the woods at night rested on Jen. Rio’s stare was unreadable yet intent, and part of Jen wished she’d just stayed quiet. Right beside The Green Witch, Agatha smirked at her like Jen just got caught taking the last cookie in the jar without asking.

„Either way“, The Green Witch’s voice was sharp and left no room for further bickering, from either side of the table, „If there are remains of the Curse still stuck to Alice“ - Jen noticed the shorter girl next to her flinch at the words. She wanted nothing more than to wrap an arm around her, but Rio‘s unreadable, sharp gaze on her stopped her - „The only thing I can think of to help is-“

„Cleansing“, Agatha finished.

„Like an exorcism?“ Billy chimed in.

Lilia shuddered in horror, then swatted him gently on the back of the head. „Goodness, Teen, we are not the Catholic Church!“

„And we aren’t dealing with an active possession either“, Agatha added on, matter of factly, „The curse itself has been defeated, as you may remember. What is happening to Alice right now, I believe to be a dissonance of energy. Blood magic that has existed only in tandem with a curse now left on its own. We need to scrape out the last bit of cursed energy, so her own power can take up the newly acquired space safely.“

A deep cleaning of Alices magical potential. Purification of her scar. A straight forward, but powerful healing process.

“I’ll do it.“ All eyes landed on Jen. Almost surprised at herself, she bit her lower lip. „I may not be able to ease the pain, but if the problem is a dissonance of energies, I can mix up a cleansing oil. Something to purify the scar of the remnants of foul energy.“

At that, her eyes pointedly glared at Agatha, whose jaw immediately tightened.

„Foul energy? Come on Kale, now that’s low even for you!“

Jennifer felt her jaw tense, leaning over the table ever so slightly, eyes narrowing. „Those are some brave words from the woman responsible for all of thi-“

„Now that that‘s taken care of,“ Lilia raised her voice before the two women could bicker any further, „I‘m going to excuse Billy and I. We have a Divination lesson to get to.“

As the Sicilian witch pulled Billy towards the living room by his sleeve, Alice turned to Jen. It was only now that she noticed how close they seemed to stand to each other, close enough that Alice had to tilt her head up slightly to find Jennifer‘s eyes.

A genuine, grateful smile curled her lips upwards as she rolled her shoulders backwards, tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip, a nervous habit she just couldn’t shake off. All while Jen just stood there, watching her with that look in her eyes that made it impossible to know what was going through her head.

„Thank you“, Alice muttered, only now noticing the sweet scent of jasmine and honey radiating off Jen. She must be wearing a new perfume.

„It uhm.. you have no idea how much you‘re helping me.“

Jennifer‘s hand came up to her shoulder, the left, unharmed one. Her long, sleek fingers were adorned with golden rings, squeezing gently. The contact left Alice breathless. A silent, unspoken energy seemed to form around you, in the way it had that night Alice had reached for Jen‘s hand. The way it had on the road, when they had sat around the fireplace, Jen sitting close enough that Alice felt goosebumps rise on her skin. Just like now.

„If you ever need anything like that“, Jen said, her eyes flitting from Alice over to Rio, who was humming a made up tune while stirring her stew on the stove, not paying attention to them at all, „Just come to me directly. Don‘t-“ Jennifer swallowed, voice dropping low, „Don’t try to consult with Death. Just let me help you.“

„Alice?“, as if she had felt her name on their tongue, Rio suddenly appeared right behind the protection witch. Her hair was pulled up into a bun now, a scarf swung around her neck. The keys to Alice‘s Peugeot dangled off her fingers. „Are you still up for another driving lesson? I think I’m good enough to leave the parking lot today, and we have to buy new kibble for Scratchy on the way!“

And in the blink of an eye, Jen was gone. Her hand retreated from Alice‘s shoulder and she was already halfway to the door pulling her phone out of her purse. And all Alice could do was stand there, missing the warmth that Jen took with her. She swallowed, trying to push away the confusion bubbling up in her chest.

After a small sigh, she turned to Rio, snatching the car keys from her hand. „You are not leaving the parking lot yet, you can barely switch gears! I actually thought today I could teach you parallel parking.“

Agatha's guest bathroom was so small, even just two people standing inside felt crowded. Two weeks of intense research, growing rare and even extinct herbs in the greenhouse and a lot more trial and error than Jen would like to admit had passed. Finally, she’d gotten the mixture right, a small, tear drop shaped potions bottle resting against her palm, inside it a shimmering, mildly glowing oil. The labour of countless sleepless nights (actually it’s exactly 4, they ruined Jennifer’s beauty routine), of staying at the Bohner house way more than she liked to, of watching Alice teach Rio how to drive, how to use her phone, how to set up an E Mail and a Spotify account. All things that, in Jennifer’s opinion, should have been Agatha’s job.

But right now, Rio wasn’t there for once, and it was just the two of them in this tiny, confined bathroom that you could barely turn around in without knocking something over.

Alice stood so close, Jen could smell the minty scent of mens sports deodorant.

She immediately wondered if Alice could smell the rosewater Jen wore on her pressure points, or the distinct scent of Dior perfume.

She couldn't help but wonder if she liked it or if she thought it was overwhelming. If the latter were the case, Jen would no doubt rub it off immediately, until her skin was raw and irritated. The thought hit her with unexpected might, and Jen had to clear her throat to ground herself in the moment. A sound that came out way sharper than intended.

Alice flinched, a more minimal movement of her shoulders, but Jen noticed nonetheless.

„I‘m sorry“, Jen immediately said, fumbling nervously with the freshly brewed potion in her hand. She’d taken weeks to perfect the serum, and yes, maybe she did consult Rio about the brew she‘d concocted one time, but only because she had to make sure it would be the best possible result for Alice.

Jen bit down on her own tongue. All for Alice.

„You need to take your shirt off“, her voice sounded rough even to herself, and Jen bit the inside of her cheek harshly. “So I can see better, I mean.“

Alice‘s eyes widened for a moment, mouth falling open just the slightest bit, before curling into one of those smiles she did where her nose scrunched up just a little.

„Chivalry is dead!“ she announced dramatically, „Gotta do everything myself these days!“

As the blood witch peeled herself out of her sweatshirt, Jen had to resist the urge to grab the distressed fabric and tear it off herself.

Underneath, Alice revealed a simple black tank top with thin strands. When she pulled the right strand off her shoulder to leave the scar tissue resting beneath it bare, Jen felt her stomach twist.

They were standing so close, tips of their shoes almost touching, their distinct scents mixing in the air. Alice had to tilt her head back to look Jen in the eye, a few strands of bright orange fringe peaking over her brow.

Jens hand twitched to brush it away, run her fingers over the pale skin on Alice‘s forehead, feel the warmth of the other girl beneath her fingertips.

However, before Alice could notice her twitching hand — or maybe because she did — the girl spun around in place. A little awkwardly, due to the constricted space, her hands found the cool surface of the sink, bent over just the slightest bit. Jen behind her stood completely unmoving, unable to do anything but stare at the woman in front of her, at the skin exposed, the slight arch of her back. She had forgotten how to breathe minutes ago.

Their eyes met in the mirror and Alice's face was as brightly red as Jen felt.

„Is this okay?“, Alice's voice was very quiet all of a sudden, and Jen must have stared at her utterly confused, because the short woman tapped her bare shoulder. „I mean, can you work like this?“

Work, yes. That was something Jen knew, something she wasn’t just good at, but marvellous. So, after a small shake of her head she rolled her shoulders back, focusing on the task at hand. The thing she knew for sure she could do for Alice. And, by all gods in the sky, she was going to do her best.

The scar was gnarly. Deep dark red and purple discolouration scorned her ivory skin, thick layers of scar tissue pushing up against each other. A satchel of memory permanently burned into her shoulder, a reminder of the road.

No, Jen thought, of her family curse. This scar run far deeper than any of the other coven members could understand. The original wound so old, the protection witch rarely ever talked about it.

Suddenly, Alice flinched.

Jen‘s hand pulled back immediately, biting her bottom lip as she stared at her own fingers. She hadn’t even realised her fingers had grazed the damaged skin.

„'M Sorry“, she mumbled, glancing down at the tips of her Birkenstocks apologetically. Not her favourite shoe, but enough as a slipper for inside the house.

„It‘s okay“, Alice voice was hoarse, but she gave Jen a small smile over her shoulder. „You‘re the expert here.“

Yes, right, the healing ointment.

Jennifer grabbed the small glass bottle that held a thick, swirling oil concoction.

„Since the wound itself is technically healed, it makes no sense to make you a potion“, she explained, shaking the bottle gently. The content began to shimmer, single particles of pale pink and gold catching the light. She pulled the cork out with a pop, the scent of roses filling the room.

Jen swallowed, her shoulders relaxing. This was her element, this was what she was good at. And god, did it feel good to be able to help Alice with her talents.

„So I made you an ointment to apply on the scar once a day. Massage it in thoroughly, and it should speed up the healing process and regenerate the skin. I also added some herbs to ward off evil, just in case. And some dried roses because they smell nice.“

And a dash of crushed gold leaf, but that was merely for aesthetic purposes. Because if Alice was going to glow from the inside out, her skin might as well reflect that.

Alice smiled to herself, watching Jen hold the small bottle in her hands, the golden manicure she‘d treated herself to coincidentally matching the treatment.

The younger witch swallowed, before shrugging slightly, as if to shake off some quiet thought she refused to share.

„I‘m gonna ask Rio to plant some roses in the backyard. I didn‘t know you used them for your potions!“

At the mention of the Green Witch, Jennifer‘s face soured, even just for a second. Ever since they had returned from the Road, had established this new, shared life with each other, Death seemed especially comfortable around Alice. Rio had been the one to task Jen to make a potion to relieve Alice of the Curses remaining aches, whenever Alice texted their group chat that she was on her way, Rio naturally began boiling water for Alice‘s favourite tea (Roibos Vanilla with a spoon of honey, Jen paid attention) and when Agatha had grown frustrated that besides Billy, only one of them had a functioning car, Rio had started to take those god damned driving lessons from Alice.

They had spent a lot of time together in and around their Coven‘s little home, and Jennifer would lie if she said it didn’t leave a sour taste in her mouth. And now, at Alice off handed comment, she bit her own tongue, hard enough to taste the metallic tang of her own blood, and just shook her head.

Rio already had Agatha, wasn’t that more than enough for her? That woman certainly was a handful.

„I have a stash with everything I need at home“, she simply said, giving the potion bottle in her hands one more shake, slightly more violent than necessary, before glancing back down at Alice‘s bare shoulder. Not exactly the perfect view to distract her from the tight knot in her chest, bit at least she had a task her.

Shifting back into focus, her eyes ran down the grey, thick scar tissue bulking from Alice‘s skin.

„Does it still hurt?“, despite being alone in the bathroom, Jen was whispering. The silence between them felt fragile yet sacred. Like a wordless spell of protection, wrapping them in their own little bubble. A moment where there was none of the tension Jen felt flimmering around her every time Rio sat next to Alice. Every time they excused themselves for a driving lesson. The last thing Jen wanted was to burst this moment. Cut through the air in the small bathroom that for once, only the two of them shared. No one else.

Alice sighed, shoulders rising and slowly falling again.

„No“, she replied just as quietly.

Jen looked up, searching for Alice's face in the mirror before her, but the shorter woman kept her eyes lowered. Her brows creased.

„I mean, I get this … phantom pain sometimes. Like it‘s still there, like … like its claws are still inside me.“

Chocolate brown eyes found Jens in the reflection. Jennifer‘s eyes were a deep but refined brown, like a rare piece of solid wood vintage furniture. Alice's eyes were a warm, all encompassing brown. Like a swirl of pure dark chocolate, or a tunnel underneath a mountain. Unspoken secrets hidden deep within them. Jen wanted to know them all, if Alice would just let her.

When their eyes met in the mirror, Jen felt her jaw clenching. Her breath came slow, the slightest breeze brushing over Alice's exposed skin. She saw the goosebumps rise, where the scarring gave into pale skin, purple veins hidden beneath.

Alice looked so vulnerable, Jen had the sudden urge to wrap her arms around her, pull the shorter girl's lean shoulders into her embrace and keep her there, far out of reach from any forms of demons, curses, conjured roads. Far away from Rio, who no matter how charismatic, was still Death incarnate. Away from Lilia‘s predictions of doom and despair, and god forbid, the furthest away from Agatha and Billy, and their raw, concentrated chaos magick.

But then she remembered the way Alice always made sure the plans at the Bohner house were watered when Rio was gone, the way she did her daily Italian lessons on Duolingo because Lilia „missed her mother tongue“, her little shoulder checks every time Billy successfully cast a spell. The way Alice drew salt circles around their little headquarters, made sure Agatha‘s bunny had a small protection spell on him whenever he roamed freely around the garden. The blood witch was a light to all of them, and the more she helped others, the brighter she seemed to shine. Jen could never take that away from her.

So she kept her hands to herself, dribbled a few drops of ointment into her palm before rubbing them together. The floral scent in the room intensified, and as the oil warmed up between her hands, a soft, pale pink glow rose from Jen‘s palms.

„The curse is gone“, she said after a long moment of silence.

When she glanced at Alice again in the mirror, the pink glow of her hands reflected in her deep dark eyes. Jennifer‘s stomach did a little flip at the sight.

„You survived, and you freed everyone who will come after you too.“

Glowing palms ghosted over the scar on Alice‘s shoulder, before her warm hand came to rest on the scorned skin.

The smallest gasp left Alice‘s lips at the contact, and at first, she flinched, before slowly leaning back into the touch.

„Thank you Jen," she whispered, breathing deeply. „It tingles but … it feels good.“

Slowly, Jen began to rub the ointment over Alice’s shoulder, working her way over her shoulder blade and down her back, up towards her neck, along every ridge and bump of scar tissue.

Alice was warm beneath her palms, her breathing slow and even as her eyes fluttered shut. Her head rolled over to her other shoulder, exposing her neck to the woman behind her.

So close, Jennifer could see the hair‘s on her neck dance as she breathed over them. Her hand stilled, resting right in the crook between Alice‘s shoulder and neck, where the Curse had struck the deepest.

„Alice“, Jen gasped, glancing up at her in panic, „I-“

The shorter girl interrupted her before Jen had time to think about what she was about to say.

„I wish you‘d just do it“, she murmured, keeping her eyes pressed shut, as if she was scared of what she‘d find in Jen‘s eyes.

Jen stared at her, mouth opening and closing multiple times without a sound coming out. Like a fish out of water.

„But“, finally her vocal strings complied, „I thought, I mean … Rio.“

At that, Alice turned around in her position. Her eyes were wide, mouth agape in disbelief, and the corners of her mouth were twitching, like she had to fight back a smile. „Jennifer Kale“, she said unexpectedly firm, „Excuse my choice of words, but what the fuck?“

Her hands found her hips, and she looked at Jennifer as if she‘d just exclaimed the sky was green, not blue. There was a slight sass in the melody of her voice, and all Jen could do was stare and listen.

„Rio? Who either doesn’t show up for days on end and when she does, its pretty much only to see Agatha? Who almost wrecked my car in the Walmart parking lot? Please“, a faint blush crept up Alice‘s face and she shook her head. „Did I tell you how Billy and I found her and Agatha making out in the Greenhouse the other day?“

Jennifer‘s eyes widened. „They did not!“

„They absolutely did. The poor boy was so embarrassed.“

Jen couldn’t help the laugh tumbling off her tongue, shaking her head at the scene in her head. Alice low, melodic chuckle joined her, and for a moment, they were just two women laughing together, without any of the tension Jen had cultivated between them.

But then, Alice quietened down, and she turned around again, facing away from Jen. Her gaze was focused downwards, but in the mirror, she could still see her furrowed brows.

There it was again, tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

Alice kept her eyes down. Her voice was low and raw, barely audible. When Jen noticed Alice‘s slight shiver, she instinctively reached up, placing her warm palm on her shoulder.

„The only reason I spend so much more time with Rio is because she almost took me. I was done for, Jen. I saw my own body on the floor, and Rio was there ready to take me to the other side. I died… I felt Death.“

Almost in perfect synchrony, they both swallowed. Jennifer‘s palm rubbed up and down Alice‘s shoulder gently, and a soft sigh escaped the shorter woman‘s mouth. Jen imagined she leaned closer into the touch.

„Rio spared me, and I still don‘t exactly know why. Maybe … maybe there was so much fight left, maybe it wasn’t my time. But still, I will forever be grateful for that. But,“ dark brown eyes caught Jennifer‘s in the mirrors reflection. Alice chin was raised, jaw tight. „That has nothing to do with anything going on between us, Jen. Rio was there for a very scary moment in my life, but she doesn’t make me feel like you do. And she doesn’t want to, either. We both know she only has eyes for Agatha. And I only have eyes for you.“

Jen stared at her like she had just been hit over the head with a shovel. Her palm on Alice‘s shoulder stilled, perfectly fitting into the slight crook. Like it was meant to be there.

Alice bit her lip. „There, I said it. I‘ve been looking at you for a long time now. Hell, I‘ve been nervous around you since we met, the first time the Coven assembled. You‘re gorgeous, confident, and you‘re the only one out of us who talks back to Agatha. You saved so many of our lives on the Road and you have beautiful lips that always look soft and when you stand behind me like this and I can feel your breath on my neck I … I just want you to lean in.“

And Jen did.

Her lips brushed over soft, warm skin cautiously, like she was scared to break it. Merely a small peck to her neck, barely enough to smudge Jennifer's tinted lip gloss. And yet, she felt the blood rush to her head.

A small, high pitched sigh that escaped Alice‘s throat. It washed over Jen like pure honey. So sweet, it was almost sickening.

Growing more courageous, Jen pressed another kiss to her neck, just slightly above the first spot. This time, her lips lingered in position, sucking the soft, heated skin between her teeth for the fragment of a second.

Alice whined, and Jen felt like she could get drunk on the sound. A hand came up to her head, short nails digging into her scalp as Alice pulled her further up. She turned her head to meet her face to face, and the next thing Jen knew, their lips met.

The angle was less than perfect, Alice‘s neck craned to the side, Jennifer on her tiptoes to be able to lean over her shoulders enough, but the sparks flew just the same.

„I had no idea“, Jen murmured, words wandering from her lips directly into Alice‘s, „That you felt that way.“

„I figured as much.“ Jennifer felt Alice smirk against her lips before pressing one more kiss to her. „I didn’t think you did either, but you‘re kind of shit at hiding your jealousy.“

„I‘m not the jealous type," Jen retorted. But even she had to admit she did not sound convincing at all, bottom lip pushed forward into a slight pout as her arms wrapped around Alice‘s waist, pulling her flush against her.

„Sure, you just decided to dislike Rio on a whim one day.“

Jen’s perfect manicure dug into the fabric of Alice jeans. „Don’t say her name right now.“

That made Alice snort, and Jen couldn’t deny the irony either.

„Okay“, she sighed, brushing a strand of bright orange, box dyed hair behind Alice‘s ear, „I‘ll admit to a little bit of jealousy.“ Her fingers ran along Alice‘s jaw, coming to rest on her chin. Tilting her face up just the slightest bit, she pulled her into another slow, sweet kiss. Alice pulled her closer by the back of her neck, smiling into the touch of Jen‘s lips against hers.

„I‘ll take it“, she murmured, „You’re cute when you get like that.“

Jen felt her nose scrunch up, glancing away from Alice’ adoring eyes. “You are definitely the only one who thinks so.“

#agatha all along #Jennifer kale #alice wu gulliver #agatha harkness #Rio Vidal #agathario #lilia calderu #billy maximoff #aaa week #berry writes things #bloodpotions #alice x jennifer #jennifer kale x alice wu gulliver #aaa week: jealousy #Agatha all along week

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ssaalexblake · 2 days ago

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I feel like one of the big differences between Katniss and Haymitch's narration is that Haymitch is aware from the get go that the careers are not his enemy. It takes Katniss a while, and while she's tertiarily aware that the capitol is the one at fault here, she still lets her hatred for the careers she's in the arena with make her forget her anger at the capitol.

The whole thing about the newcomers in sotr is an attempt to upset the status quo, and from Hatmitch at least it is not a projection of hatred towards the careers. I think the alliance was erased from the 50th games not Just because it fully reshaped Haymitch's narrative, but also because it was inherently rebellious even aside from the actual rebellion taking part in that arena.

Because yeah, the careers are allowed to be allies and it's apparently expected of them to do so, but they're also well trained enough to know that after the pack hunting and campfires, they have to kill each other, and they do kill each other. The status quo is not damaged by this shallow alliance that has no real feeling. In fact, portraying the districts as people who are friendly with each other but repeatedly murder each other for their own gain must be great for the propaganda machine.

The other districts, however, when they ally, tend to get attached and not want to kill each other, which is literally in the face of what the games are meant to portray. The kids in the 50th knew full well what'd happen if they killed all the careers before they were all dead, even poor tortured Lou Lou said it to their faces that they'd just murder them all.

(side note: I cannot imagine what kind of training and psychological conditioning they do to the career kids to prep them and make them ready and willing to play friends with other kids for a couple of weeks or so and then have to kill them. Yikes.)

But back to the point, Haymitch may think Panache is unhinged and personally dislike him, but he's inherently aware from the get go that Both of them are nothing but animals to the capitol citizens. During the interviews when Caesar makes a cruel comment towards Panache, Haymitch laughs for a second before he stops himself. He doesn't stop himself because he thinks that Panache is the smartest most honourable guy in the world, he does it because the capitol are laughing at him because they think he's a stupid animal, and the capitol sees no difference between the two of them.

He chose to have empathy with him, despite what he thought of him.

He's psychologically allying himself with the careers here, not out of affection, but out of an ability to differentiate with who is bigger enemy is. He's more than aware that they're just teenagers like him. It's wholly unsurprising that he shared their chocolate with Silka when he saw her crying. He recognised that she's just been through the exact thing he did and would have just watched Maritte die without being able to help.

And yes, Katniss gets here herself, but it is not an inherent awareness in her. She is learning as she goes, which is why her mentor gently reminds her who the real problem is.

#sotr #sotr spoilers #sunrise on the reaping spoilers #thg

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c2-eh · 3 days ago

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24 on the kiss writing!

the itch under my skin did not let me write anything else but this. enjoyyy anon (and Ta) 💓

24. kiss in danger

"Firefighter Leclerc, do you copy?"

The only thing Charles is aware of once he opens his eyes is prickly and penetrating pain in his temple. His vision is blurry when he finally looks around and then there it is. That annoying pain in his right arm, which tells him all he needs to know.

Fuck, what happened, is his first thought when his brain starts working again.

Actually, he partly knows what happened. He and Carlos were trying to rescue all the people left in the building that was just about to collapse. They got them all out – 3 women, 4 men and 1 cat – except one. They went back to look for, apparently, a tall black-haired man, probably unconscious, as he was not responding.

One look at each other and a nod was all they both needed to understand. Charles went right and Carlos went left, automatically, without any conversation needed beforehand. However, he did not get far. The last thing Charles remembers is turning around to check on him and then nothing.

He coughs multiple times and tries to grab his radio to answer to Cap – Seb – but to no avail. Okay, don't panic Charles, this is not your first rodeo.

As he's trying to think of a plan how to free himself from all the concrete pile that landed on him, he hears footsteps. Carlos. He could recognize him anywhere – yes, by his steps (especially his steps) alone.

"Charles," he says loudly and Charles’ head throbs, "Charles, are you with me?"

Charles uses his left hand to show him a thumbs up, as his left is, kind of, not functional right now, "yeah," he says weakly and promptly coughs.

"Okay, I'm gonna get you out of here and then we go. I saw some passage at the right hand side, we will check it out and then call for a backup," Carlos' voice is focused and firm, in his firefighter mode and it makes Charles smile slightly. Ever since day one, he has been teasing him about it.

After god knows how much time of Carlos wrestling everything away from Charles, they both stumble towards the only source of light they find. It looks like it's a passage to some other room. Charles is not sure anymore, not with the mess this place has become.

And of course, because nothing can ever be easy for them, they suddenly feel the ground – or well, the building – shake underneath them. It's nothing they haven't been through before, but Charles feels a bit unsafe now, with his arm hurt and all.

He's already thinking of the plan how to save Carlos with his dysfunctional arm if something was to happen. After couple seconds the shaking stops and Carlos looks right at him, "this is not good," he says and looks around himself, probably contemplating what their best chance to get out is.

"Cap said they're already thinking of a plan how to get us out. Apparently the 'unconscious guy'," Carlos makes the quotation marks with his hands, "was already in a triage area."

Charles let's the information sink in, "so it's only the two of us here," his voice is still raspy and his throat closed up.

Carlos takes off his helmet and his hair look so unfairly good Charles is kind of jealous. Very jealous actually, he looks like a wet rat when he takes off his own helmet.

Another earthquake hits them and Charles tries his hardest not to react, but knowing Seb has been silent for about 10 minutes now, he gets a bit agitated.

"I'm gonna check the other side of the building, you stay here. We should try to find another way to get out," Carlos says and Charles stops him right when he's about to put his helmet back on.

"Wait," he grabs Carlos' wrist which brings him closer, "I-," he starts and he really means to continue, but his throat sizes up and he has no idea what is happening to him. This is so not like him, getting choked up like this, losing his words in these situations. Especially not next to Carlos. It's Carlos for fucks' sake, his best friend, his partner, his everything.

Oh. Oh fuck, now really is not the best time for realizations. The building is collapsing underneath our feet, for fuck’s sake Charles.

(But it might as well be the perfect time – perfectly aligned with who they are).

He's spiraling and Carlos can probably see it, because his face scrunches up and he takes another step closer to him, "hey, Charles. What's wrong?"

Charles doesn’t say anything, doesn’t explain what kind of thoughts are running through his mind at this exact moment, he only grabs Carlos’ face and smashes his lips against Carlos’ plush and beautiful and pink ones.

He doesn’t really have any time to panic, to overthink his whole life, because Carlos is kissing him back with such vigor, Charles wonders why it took them so long to finally do this. Carlos’ lips fit perfectly against his own and Charles shortly forgets about the situation they’re in.

Carlos pries his lips open and licks into his mouth, which makes Charles’ heart skip a beat. It’s perfect, absolutely delightful like everything about Carlos. He never wants to go without feeling Carlos’ lips – a bit chapped, but perfect the way they are – on his.

They break apart for a moment, to breathe in, but Charles dives right back in to kiss Carlos again and again. His good arm is resting on Carlos’ shoulder and his fingers and buried in Carlos’ hair and somehow his head has stopped hurting too. Maybe Carlos’ kisses have a healing power.

“Leclerc, Sainz, we found you a way out,” Cap’s voice breaches through the radio, which makes them pull away – with resentment, but they really need to get out of here. Carlos steals one last kiss from Charles, a little peck.

“We’re talking about this once we get out. No take backs, no running away,” Carlos’ whole face is a sight for a sore eye. His pupils are wide and the smile on his lips could light up a whole room – or well, the ruins of the building, “copy, Cap.”

Charles smiles and nods. No take backs.

send me a ship and a number and i will write a kiss

#i survived this week! 4 exams later have this!#charlos as buddie? you know it #idk if i am happy with this but here it goes #charlos fic #charlos #eva writes #f1 prf #f1 fic

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dancing-dawn · 2 days ago

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If Atsushi and Akutagawa were associated with a type of flowers what flowers d'you think they'd be?

Funny you ask that because in my Atsushi ask (yk the big ass one) I mentioned something about the crowd showering me with bouquets of daisies and black roses because those were the first two flowers I could think of for them. But I'm gonna do a deeper dive now and see what may actually fit by symbolism.

Ok it took me literally 2 seconds because I settled on Aku's. Lily. Maybe even a black lily if you wanne be feisty!

Symbolically, the black lily represents transformation, rebirth, and the hidden depths of the human psyche. It serves as a reminder that beauty can be found even in the darkest of places, and that strength and resilience emerge from adversity.

knight aku knight aku knight aku! (also matches with kyouka a bit but shhhhh knight aku my love)

Also the cover art of chapter 120.5 depicts Aku in front of a wall of roses hung up upside down to dry. So I think that's interesting and maybe why my first thought of him was a rose! (He is also, a hopeless romantic, change my mind)

Nowwww Atsushi is gonna need some digging for real.

WAIT WAIT I JUST THOUGHT OF A BETTER ONE FOR AKU!

EDELWEISS!!!

Which accoring to wikepedia symbolises “chivalrous devotion, high courage; daring, noble purity”

Which!!!!! Yes.

Ok back to Atsu. I present you - the snowdrop.

When I saw this picture and thought of Atsu, I swear I was about to cry idk why. I'm gonna give you my own analysis here rather than what is considered the norm because apparently every country has its own symbolism. This flower, at least from where I'm from, is considered the most prominent harbinger of the coming of spring. And for me Atsushi is spring itself - he's the bringer of light, of warmth and happiness. Of life. [im about to cry fr ffs]

The flower is so small and hidden close to the earth, you may just step on it and crush it, if you're not careful. It's beautiful in its simplicity but it holds more than the eye meets. A single snowdrop in a barren field looks lonely, weak, but it wouldn't be there if it couldn't overcome the early winter. It's graceful and beautiful in its own way. Also apparently it symbolises hope, rebirth and overcoming obstacles in life (i imagine the cold and the snow) so that's fitting for our boy!

#um this became way bigger and emotional than i expected #sskk #bsd analysis #flower symbolism #bsd akutagawa #bsd atsushi #also edelweiss is a protected and endangered species here which feels very aku to me #don't let my boy die again he's had enough!#answered asks

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darkfictionjude · 2 days ago

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Hi, how do you do?The more I learn from the OYHS the more I think Jack is the cutest person ever. You almost tempt me to make my MC a top, and that's saying something. I guess I'll need two MCs, unless I do what I do with Fallen Hero and just play every romantic route with the same Sidestep. Yet I'm intrigued by the romance with Greer. I may change my opinion once I get to know them both, but truthfully I find them so delightfully charming I want to love them both.

Anyhow, I'm eagerly waiting for the public release. I've fantasizing about how to create my Sky, and the more I do the more convinced he'll be blond. Which is surprising, since I have a basic template from my character (I think I've mentioned it before, but basically is combination of Imre and Chris Redfield [RE5]: blue eyes, brown hair, tan skin that may go lighter or not to fit the setting, handsome and fit/muscular if those are an option) when I play IFs.

But I don't know. Maybe the name Sky is making me think of light colors. Since I think of the day's sky. And the idea of Sky being bright and welcoming and beautiful appeals to me.

Plus, both of the male ROs seem to have dark hair. Unless I'm mistaken. I'm very basic, so I like that kind of contrast.

Furthermore, I've been thinking of movie stars who I would like to take as inspiration for my Sky. And while they're not actors from the time (they're from a couple of decades after the 1930s), they have been appearing on my kind as I think of how my Sky should be. Those actors being Paul Newman and Alain Delon (first one was blond, and the second had light brown hair).

I'm probably influenced by Hazeglu a bit (although my Sky is male). Since I saw some of Hazeglu's art and I thought the pale and light colour palette work so well for the character... In a way, Sky is a canvas. One that is going to be painted by the experiences in the entertainment industry. The question being if Sky is going to paint themselves, or if someone else will take the brush to make Sky their own creation.

Now I need to draw my Sky. But I'll wait until I read more about them. I need as much information as possible. Especially with your games, given how defined the MCs are. I need the themes, the arcs, the characterizations to decide what I like best.

I'm so dramatic, aren't I?

Changing the topic, just a little bit, I was interested on some aspect of Sky's characterization: Can they sing? I know not every actor at the time actually sang even when they portrayed a character who was meant to sing. But I've listening to some musical songs and I love the idea of Sky having also a beautiful voice. Maybe female Sky can be alike Judy Garland. While male Sky could have a similar voice to Bing Crosby. Or maybe not. Maybe Sky could be a soprano (if female) or a tenor (if male).

Have you thought about it? At the very least I find myself daydreaming about my Sky singing in musicals, and dancing too.

Have a nice day!

So yeah Jack has black hair while Greer has chestnut hair I would say although it’s dyed, his natural hair color is a light brown

Oh you don’t need to tell me about Paul Newman and Alain Delon — obsessed with those face cards 😮‍💨

Yeah I’ve been thinking about having Sky take singing lessons. Stars were polished to perfection before they ever starred in their first movie with diction classes, media training, dancing and singing

Also even though the name for the first movie is set, you get to choose the genre so it can be a musical

#Greer #Jack #OYHS

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milasreyes · 4 hours ago

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Camila barked a laugh—sharp and genuine—as Christian spun the grocery store into a divine morality gauntlet. “Okay, wait. You’re telling me that not only is the grocery store a test, but the minute we acknowledge the test as a test, it evolves into, like… advanced mode?” She shook her head with faux seriousness, eyes narrowing as if scanning the sky for a surveillance drone. “You’re right. We have to keep it lowkey. The oat milk gods are listening. And they’re vengeful.”

There was something about Christian’s voice that had sounded familiar from the second he spoke, but it was only when he glanced at her like that—like they’d shared more stories than they actually had—that it clicked for her too. Shooters. Karaoke nights. Him singing badly on purpose until suddenly he wasn’t. She tilted her head and gave him a knowing smile, a little slower, a little softer. “Honestly, I should’ve guessed it was you when I heard someone talking like a Shakespearean rebel philosopher while trying to chase down a grocery cart. That’s very on brand.”

His story about soccer and Scotty earned a wince and a smirk. “Classic Windsor Bay,” she echoed, shaking her head. “There’s no in-between here. Either you get maimed by someone’s cart because they’re fighting their own demons in aisle five, or you get offered free tamales by someone’s abuela while you’re looking at canned beans.” Her expression turned wry. “Scotty sounds like he walked so Cart-Ram Lady could run.”

She marched with him toward the cart corral, slipping into the shared theatricality of it with ease. “Okay, grocery warriors,” she intoned, like she was about to narrate a trailer for an epic movie. “This is where our story begins. Somewhere out there—beneath the fluorescent sky of this very parking lot—two humble carts await their chosen ones. May they squeak no more.” She glanced at him over her shoulder with mock gravity. “If they do, we return them. We do not settle.”

Christian’s delivery about cupcakes pulled a grin so wide it practically crinkled the corners of her eyes. “You never told me this. And by the way, you’ve now entered sacred territory—cupcakes are an art form and a lifestyle. This is the kind of mission that builds character, and possibly carpal tunnel from all the piping bags.” When he showed her the cupcake photo, Camila stopped walking for a second just to properly take it in. “Are you kidding me? They have tiny life preservers. Christian, this is peak ambition. Shark Week meets Great British Bake-Off. I fully support this journey. I want updates. I want progress shots. I want to be emotionally invested.”

She smiled, tucking her phone into her bag. “As for me? My mission is far less noble. I’m here for the usual: coffee, tortilla chips, and enough limes to make it look like I’m preparing for a citrus-based emergency.” A beat. “Also maybe marshmallows, but only because I saw a hot chocolate recipe that promised to ‘change my life,’ and I’m weak for internet food lies.”

Camila leaned in conspiratorially as they neared the carts. “Okay, Christian, here's the deal. If we each find a cart that doesn’t sound like it’s screaming for help, we name them, we take a selfie, and we consider this whole trip a success—no matter how overpriced the oat milk or how spiritual the ruin.”

She extended her hand like they were sealing a pact. “Deal?”

Christian hummed. “Grocery store as a cosmic test? I can see it.” He smiled and glanced at Camila—he could recognize her voice anywhere (as a customer of hers at Shooters); he hadn’t quite registered that it was her before she’d spoken—and he added, “But you’d have to be careful that the creator of the test doesn’t get mad at you for calling it out. Seen The Matrix? You walk a dangerous line by correctly identifying this as a test of character. They’ll give you worse stuff if you make an enemy of yourself.”

Christian chuckled as he kept going: “Me? The universe knows I would gladly call it out, and don’t.” Camila probably knew that Christian had an attitude on him, having witnessed him drunk before. “And they’re having me face this challenge with you because, well, they’re showing me a nobler path. Better to be an enemy and a rebel than a loyalist and a coward.” He smiled wryly. “I choose to be the coward. Make peace, forsake honesty. I hate that the oat milk is overpriced, too, but…you didn’t hear that from me. Top secret.”

Christian had been working on his common courtesy.

“One time,” Christian told Camila confidentially, after her story about the grocery store ankle assault. “One time, when I was playing soccer in some school gym class, this kid kicked my ankle as hard as he possibly could because he was mad. Teachers said that he was trying to kick the ball. Not true. He wanted to get my ankle. He had a bone to pick with me. Thank you, Scotty, for preparing me for the person at the grocery store last week who also rammed a cart into my ankle.” Christian gave Camila a small smile. “Gotta love absolutely everything about Windsor Bay, am I right?”

(Bizarre and unexplainable aggression from random strangers was an occasional staple of small-town life.)

(Balanced out, of course, by the friendliness and genuine warmth from people like Camila Reyes.)

Christian followed Camila toward the cart corral, prepared to respond to her comment about the “chariots” they, the “grocery warriors”, would be “retrieving” (stealing from future patrons like both the person who’d just done that and the worst-tempered warriors in The Iliad) when Camila glanced back at him and winked. “Shimmying and squeaking as a means to audition? For Windsor Bay’s Got Talent—as if anyone has ever said that phrase before in a serious context? Camila, your mind is incredible. I will also name the first grocery cart I find that doesn’t do that because I don’t think I’ve ever had a cart that wasn’t auditioning. We’ll be legends for this one. Grocery heroes. Grocery winners. You and I will claim a spot in Windsor Bay’s Got Talent history for locating two up-and-comers that are humble.”

Christian stopped to evaluate what it was he was actually here for. He’d known the instant Camila had asked; but he’d needed to evaluate—was it worth the ridicule?

“So I never told you this,” Christian said as if they’d spent far more time together than they actually had, “but I love cupcakes. Like, love them. But the only people who make cupcakes worth looking at, as opposed to cupcakes worth eating (which is every cupcake), are these moms online with baking blogs, and they are immaculate. Absolute masterpieces. Take a look at this one.”

Christian held up his phone, with a picture of cupcakes with life preservers and highly-realistic candy sharks on top. “These bad boys have featured in my wildest dreams for the past month. So I’m making a serious attempt at being the mom with the baking blog, so to speak. I’m going to make the most beautiful cupcakes the world has ever seen, and it starts with Windsor Bay Grocers.” He paused. “And a trip to iCandy right after.”

Christian asked Camila, “What are you buying that is a million times more sensible than the means to make designer cupcakes?”

#( threads. )#( camila x christian. )

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