#I’m sorry I keep not getting around to making posts about the previous outfit
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sozila · 8 months ago
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convalescence. (sukuna x reader)
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synopsis: convalescence noun. time spent recovering from an illness or medical treatment; recuperation. ryomen s. itadori was a disease that infected every part of your life, and you didn’t notice until it was too late.
pairing: best friend's older brother!ryomen s. itadori x pre-med uni student!fem reader.
warnings: explicit content eventually, mdni.
wc: 9.3k
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you are on: prodromal. (part four)
a/n:
hiii lovelies <3 i wanna start out with an apology because this was much, much later than i wanted to post :( i am so sorry! i really appreciate all the love and can't wait to reply all the comments on ao3 and tumblr :,) you guys are amazing and keep my passion for writing going. anyways, word count is 9.3k !!! record highs breaking every chapter haha <3 i hope you all find this enjoyable after a long dry spell :) and as always, credit to my beta reader @beeh-ive ily bih
ao3 link here.
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prodromal. (part four)
sukuna had discovered three key truths when he drove back home after yuuji kicked him out of his apartment. 
yuuji was right about sukuna. it was annoying to admit that his baby brother was right about anything, let alone something so fundamental to his character. it was easier to bark out orders and shelter him from the world. to not hear him be a mature person with complicated thoughts and his own perceptions— especially the ones about sukuna. deep down he knew he couldn’t keep yuuji unaware forever. he couldn’t deny that the events of their childhood scattered his soul, which he has since collected and duct taped together over the years. he knew he was a shitty person. better than anyone else. in the late hours of night he was kept up by the memories of their childhood, ones he couldn't burden yuuji or guilt their grandfather with. it was his to keep and bury within that duct taped soul. he had made peace with it, he thought.
he could respect yuuji’s wishes (withholding some information). messing with you was just an excuse to spend more time in your presence. if that wasn’t possible, he’d find ways around it. a small voice deep down was adamant to say attached to you, everyone be damned. 
he had seen you that day walk into the coffee shop in that gorgeous outfit, skirt swishing with every move of your hips, completely captivating him. moreover, he witnessed how you spoke with suguru and it made something tick inside. he’s never gotten jealous of his best friends, not until this very moment. who was he, that you smiled so big for him? hold on, why the fuck was suguru touching your hair? 
he pulled out a cigarette from his back pocket and lit it aggressively, smoke engulfing the sight before him. suguru was a friendly guy, he was often surrounded with women due to this fact. sukuna was well aware of it; and honestly didn’t care until he was witnessing before his eyes you becoming a part of that equation. 
friend or not, he wanted to barge in there and yank you away from his selfish, dirty and unwelcome hands. motherfucker. 
while his angry thoughts were steaming, sukuna didn’t realize suguru had left and was already making his way towards him at the bricks. sukuna’s eyes focused back and found the man towering over him, a question mark painted on his face. “thinking about something?”
sukuna flicked the ash gathering on his cigarette off of it and inhaled another puff. an exhale. “i’m gonna get a drink really quick.” he couldn’t look at suguru’s face without the urge to pound him into the ground, the scene of his fingers touching your hair on loop again and again in his mind. so, he pushes off the wall, crushing his cigarette with his boot, and makes his own way into the tacky coffee shop. he hated the sugary nature of the place, it was so suffocating. satoru loved coming around to buy sweets, but sukuna never let the man sit and stay at a table if he was dragged into accompanying the white-haired idiot. the girl at the register looked mildly nervous when he stalked inside, which was a common reaction he got given his tattoos and looming figure. sukuna’s eyes drifted to the display of pastries and bread, scanning. he recalled you eating chocolates during your study hangouts with yuuji, the goddamn wrappers always littered on the table. he decided the little chocolate pillow-looking thing (he refused to pronounce whatever the fuck a pain au chocolat is) would suffice, his eyes flitting to the sight of you getting verbally abused by your loud friend. “um.. what can i get you, sir?” the small voice of the attendant brought him back to the front. he nodded, pulling out his wallet. “that chocolate square shit.” she hummed in acknowledgement, and began getting the tong to pack it away. sukuna stopped her. “er.. actually, i’m buying this for someone. you see that girl over there? with the green ribbons?” she looked at him with wide eyes, then found you. she nodded slowly. “that’s my girl. give it to her for me?” “o-oh! how sweet.. will do, sir! anything else for you, then?” he shakes his head. sukuna leaves, paying for your little treat. and now, he waits. suguru looked at sukuna and noticed his empty hands, even more confused than before.
“didn’t you say you were getting a drink?” 
“changed my fuckin’ mind.” 
he pulled another cigarette out to light and his friend sucked his teeth in response. “you really need to find another vice. nicotine is total shit, man. ‘s why i started weed instead, y’know–” 
“suguru, please shut the fuck up.” 
suguru’s mouth pops in mild shock, but he obliges. he knew well it wasn’t worth picking a fight with sukuna when his mood was sour, he learned that by watching satoru try sukuna’s patience on the daily. his eyes trail your figure making your way to the register and the scene unfolds exactly like he asked. he chuckled as you started looking around exasperatedly, finally meeting his eyes. he gave you a little wave. you ignore him, the treatment he’s been getting for a while now. in due time, sukuna thought. in due time he would chip at your resolve, little by little, until your walls completely broke down. discreetly and respectfully, of course.
because above all, yuuji didn’t have to know about his attempts. sukuna didn’t intend to lie, per say.. he just decided he could have his cake and eat it too. said cake being you.
and so this brings us to the final and most universal truth:
3. he needed you in the rawest form possible. the realization was natural. when you had asked him that night upstairs, he was caught up in words because he didn’t want to end up saying the wrong thing– it was delicate. but he needed you. sukuna didn’t know how to describe why in words either.. he was studying engineering, you think he was killing it in english literature?  he just knew the feeling you gave him, the one that ignited a fire in his chest and a desire to orbit your sun. he had decided he wasn’t going to let you put him on the sidelines anymore; developing the fake half-way point to pursuing you in silence.
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your internship was much more simple than you expected. while your interest in professor kaito’s research was high and got your foot in the door, the actual work was rather lackluster. you spent maybe three hours at your desk organizing files and sending simple emails, but other than that? you were just passing time. 
you had met her other student assistants a couple days into it, also in your graduation year. a mild mannered blonde man named kento and his super-positive friend, haibara. you thought kento outright hated you in the beginning, but quickly understood he was just another overworked college student. poor guy.
it really helped having something to take your mind off of sukuna’s futile attempts at catching your attention that had begun a month ago.
oh, how he was irking you. 
the bakery freebie was the first of many unnecessary gestures sukuna had done. he had made it a habit to buy you food and have it reach you in the weirdest ways. just last week, he had hit a new low by having a doordash guy somehow get you energy drinks and candies in the middle of a lecture. a note was attached that read, ‘don’t fall asleep, pretty. -s’. you were embarrassed, but thankfully the professor didn’t notice. you also took it up to apologize profusely to the doordash guy for having to fulfill such a weird request— you had handed him a crumpled up five dollar bill from your backpack because you felt so bad. your lunch got paid for randomly, your backpack had tiny presents waiting for you when you opened it, the list was endless. you were not only irritated but also mildly spooked that sukuna was able to evade your presence and manage these stunts simultaneously. he was like a romantic batman. ew, what? no. that doesn’t even make sense.
you were walking up to your apartment door late one night to see a deep red bag with black tulle stuffed into it sitting in front of it. you knew there was nobody else that would leave a gift like this in front of your door, and so you begrudgingly took it inside. it was rather heavy, which made you curious as to what exactly sukuna got you this time. 
as you put it on your tiny kitchen table, pulling tulle away from the bag, you spot the gold-embossed box. it was a really expensive brand you had heard of but never dared to think about buying from. you could hear your parents’ voices echoing in your head about being fiscally responsible, eliciting a shiver. carefully breaking the seal, you lift the lid to see the most gorgeous pair of maroon high-heeled mary janes. and once more, a note stuck to the tissue wrappings:
 ‘for my red ruby girl. -s’
your first emotion couldn’t be anger when the gift was so thoughtful like this. you giddily squeal and try them on— a perfect fit. but how? sukuna never asked for your size.. and you doubt yuuji would tell him without ruining the surprise for you. he’s so weird for that, you thought. 
you walk to your floor length mirror in your bedroom and stare at the shoes, thinking. 
he pays attention to what you like.
this was a stupid realization; he’d been getting you snacks and miscellaneous tidbits that were undoubtedly your favorites for a while. but it hits you nonetheless, your cheeks’ blush growing. you slowly sit on the ground, knees to your chest. what the fuck. you dig your fingers into the shaggy carpet, pressing down hard. you were hoping the hurty-happy ache in your fingers would go away, the one you get when you feel deeply emotional. the attempts he had made were like little vines growing over your heart, ones you had ignored for far too long and now they squeeze you tightly as if to say, “i’m literally never fucking leaving bitch!” 
you jolt when your doorbell rings. a melodic knock follows. “open up, buttercup! i’m hereeeee,” nobara voice was muffled by the door but recognizable enough. you leap to your feet, nearly tripping on your way to throwing the door open. 
nobara takes one suspicious look at your shabbily-hidden nervousness and calls your bluff. “were you watching R-rated shit? because if so i can totally leave, no problem.” your voice squeaks in an ungodly high pitch, spluttering gibberish before you manage an “oh my god no, what the fuck!” she cackles at your reaction and slaps a hand on your shoulder, moving to enter the flat. “you’re so easy to mess with babe, i worry for you at times! really. i do.” 
her eyes catch the shiny box that lay open on the table. “is that xtique? they’re mad expensive, girl! you actually bought something from there?” “no!” you quickly burst, making nobara jump at the sudden denial. “i mean, no, it was a gift from my… father! for the internship.” you point to your feet and she gives an impressed hum. “they’re super sexy-looking. your dad has good taste.. weirdly enough.” you didn’t really know what to say to that without it seeming weird or ruining your last-minute lie, so you just chuckle and nod. 
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you like chocolate, especially when it’s melty or gooey in something. you hate tomatoes. which is odd, because you’re okay with ketchup and marinara sauce, but anything with a tomato that the eye can see you don’t touch. you drink a lot of coffee after lectures. you love little cute trinkets, but don’t have that many. 
sukuna was learning about you; and applying the information as soon as he did. granted, you looked positively enraged every time you saw his notes. he also saw your face turn red, so he has to be doing something right. the way your lips quirk for a moment before the eventual frown and looking around for him was pretty adorable. whatever it was, sukuna’s plan was in motion and working as he wanted. the lengths he went for you were unheard of for the usual suitor, but sukuna was a crafty guy (when he wants to be). he tipped off the doordash guy that snuck into your lecture hall an extra twenty dollars in cash to be quiet and unnoticed by the professor. he somehow made friends with the girl at the coffee shop— said her name was christy? kristen? fuck if he knew, to be honest. he really just kept familiar with her so he could have her deliver pastries and coffee from him.  
“this bast– RYOMEN! the fuckin’ oil!” sukuna snaps out of his train of thought to see he was still at work, not in his daydreams. he never got into his thoughts like this, what…? whatever. it was about you, so he didn’t feel as bad. he cursed when he saw the oil pan was slightly away from under the plug, letting the oil spill all over the deck. “i swear to god ryo, you better clean that shit up before you clock out,” choso chided. his cousin-slash-coworker genuinely never caught a break with sukuna and his antics. one of the downsides of working at the shop the family owned, he assumed. but truly, choso was getting gray hairs from the amount of stress that man gave him. sukuna simply waved him off, discarding his rag that was now soaked in old oil. checking his watch, he realized he is close to his clock out time. in five minutes, he messily cleaned up the deck and made his exit, clicking his helmet on and driving out. at a stoplight, sukuna hears some giggling from the car next to him. he pans to see four girls with their windows down, now squealing because sukuna noticed them. one had her phone up, recording him? while another gestures as if asking for his phone number. sukuna scoffs out of irritation. really? he throws up his left hand which was gloved and gestures to his ring finger. they go silent and roll up their windows, embarrassed. a little lie to get them off his case was harmless, he didn’t care either way. technically, it was true he was “promised” to someone, that being you. eventually, he declares in his head. eventually. his head swivels to look at the buildings beside him instead of the cars while he waits for the light to flip. his eyes catch on shiny, ruby shoes in a display of a boutique-looking store. they looked awfully like the ones he saw at your apartment, and at the door the times you stayed over at yuuji’s. sukuna decides to detour and turns into the parking lot for the fancy shop. 
when he walks in he notes it’s rather small, his large frame mildly cramping the area. it was silent and empty, save for the soft jazz playing overhead. a small but peppy old woman bustles out of the back, heels clacking. she was wearing a fancy two piece suit in some kind of purple(it’s periwinkle, but would sukuna really know that?) 
she was about to greet him out of habit when a small “good heavens!” leaves her mouth, in sight of her new customer. she apologizes profusely for the sudden reaction while chuckling nervously. “you’re not our usual patron, you’ll have to forgive me for my outburst dearie!” she runs a manicured hand through her blowout hair, giving a warm smile to him. 
sukuna becomes a bit hyper-aware he was in an oil-stained wife pleaser and slacks, and his usual leather jacket. right. he just grunts and nods, looking around the store. pastel pink and gold adornments littered the walls, the smell of roses infiltrating his nose. all it was missing was you sitting in the middle of it all, honestly. this place was unironically your persona. 
he turns to the display, thumb pointed to the shoes he saw. “you got those in stock?” the lady perks up and immediately gets to work, buzzing around the store to grab boxes. “why of course! is this for a mother, sister? girlfriend, maybe?” sukuna simply nods. “girlfriend.” she giggles melodically, opening and closing boxes. “how sweet of you! she must be one special girl,” sukuna imagines you opening the box and wearing the shoes, your giddy excitement in private. he smiles faintly at the thought. “very.”
she finally finds the set of ruby shoes, and asks him for your size. he replies nearly instantly. he had seen your shoes so many times, the size was always written on the sole. so maybe he had it memorized, no big deal. numbers came easy to him anyways, he dealt with many of them in his studies and job. and maybe he had a section in his notes app for you. 
the old lady quickly wrapped up the shoes and stuffed black paper in the bag to hide the box. sukuna quickly pays, giving her a deep grumble of a thank you. she just smiles and waves him off. “i hope your girlfriend loves them!” as he leaves the shop she sighs with a bittersweet expression on her lips. she misses young love. 
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as sukuna leaves the shiny boutique, he looks at the bag in his hand. was he doing too much? he hopes you would like it, and as far as he knows, you don’t own a pair of these in the red he picked. maybe it was selfish thinking that you would enjoy that same red hue you saw in his eyes, especially after that comment that lived in his subconscious. 
your eyes are sanguine red.
he grins to himself, walking a little faster to his bike.
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nobara had stayed around for a couple of hours before she called it a night, saying something about how stupid she has to study for her exams when she’s a liberal arts student. you just chuckle and turn her loose. “you’re always welcome to ask me for help," you chide her. she scoffs and pushes you playfully. “no way. you’re like up to your ears in stuff, i couldn’t burden you. and anyways, you’re already helping yuuji and his two brain cells.” she waves you goodbye, and you head back up to your apartment once you see her get into her uber. 
you’re about to flop on your tiny couch when your phone rings. you groan internally when you see the caller id. 
“hello, father.” 
“you need to come home this weekend.” 
you frown. “i’m sorry?” 
“did you not hear me? you need to come home this weekend and help your brother with his entrance exams.” 
you’re in mild shock for a moment, making you go silent. surely he doesn’t think you have time to spend an entire weekend at home. you had so many things to juggle as it was, and your weekend was kind of your safe time. if something bled over from the week, you’d do it then, or hell, sometimes you just wanted to sit and watch a show or two. 
“..father, i’m not exactly free—“ 
“you’re lying. i know how many credit hours you’re doing and that internship of yours is the only extra activity in your time. seriously, when will you grow up? you have so many more duties to fulfill and you’re trying to get out of the simplest one.” 
you had such a difficult time reasoning with your father and it’s been this way since your childhood. he never saw what you wanted or what you accomplished. it was always “how can she benefit the family?” you let out a deep sigh. there was no getting out of this, you accept. 
“i’m sorry, father. i’ll be home on the weekend.” 
“good. your mother keeps asking about your health so don’t eat any rubbish.” 
you make a noise of agreement, but mentally you’re rearranging your tasks for the upcoming week to allocate time for the impromptu trip. he hangs up the phone without a goodbye, as usual. the dread you felt for the first eighteen years of your life settles back into your chest like an unwelcome old friend. you sink to the couch, rubbing your chest to ease the pain. you’re looking at the setting sun seeping in from the window, the light disappearing feeling awfully similar to your emotions right now.
it’ll be just another thing you’ll brave through, you suppose.
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kento is washing beakers in the back of the lab room, but you know you felt his eyes on the back of your head. “yes, kento?” you say without turning around. he clears his throat to cover up the cough he let out of surprise. he did not think you would’ve noticed. “you just seem a little downtrodden today, is all.” you let out a sad laugh and walk over to help him dry the beakers. “well, you aren’t wrong, i guess,” you say absentmindedly. you woke up today with the same dread you felt earlier this week, which you had felt every day since the call until today— friday. the gloomy, rainy day didn’t help your mood either. 
“anything i can do to help, maybe?” you smile at your monotonous friend. you learned he was quite caring, but had a hard time mirroring it in his tone of voice. “actually, yeah. do you think you could cover the last hour for me? i’m going home for the weekend.” he nods, putting the last clean beaker in the crate. “no worries. i hope you enjoy your time at home.” you draw a heavy sigh. “i’ll try,” you manage with a deflected grin. 
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you wave kento goodbye when you’re walking out the door of the lab, heaving your bags along with you. the rain hadn’t stopped by the time you were walking to your car, so you had to run to avoid drenching everything you had and yourself. 
the drive home was mostly silent, save for your playlist playing softly in the background of the car. the rain slows to a stop when you turn into your neighborhood, which makes you slightly annoyed. couldn’t it have stopped for you when you were getting a cold shower on the way to the car? once you pull up to your apartment complex, you notice something that immediately draws a groan from your lips. 
before you is a sleek black bike, and leaning on it was none other than the object of your irritation. his helmet sat on his seat and his pink hair was moussed by the rain, making it a more deep pink shade. his stupid grin churned your insides. turning the key off in the ignition, you step out of your car, walking towards him. 
you notice his fingers drumming on his seat. he seemed happy to see you? “forgot your umbrella?” he gestures to your head, and your face goes red. your hair was a little out of the ordinary after running through the rain. “shut the fuck up.” you quip dismissively, comb your fingers through your hair to try and fix it– but the moisture had already had its way with you. you give up with a huff. 
your eyes narrow at him. “are you stalking me?” you roll your eyes and cross your arms, clearly not in the mood to deal with sukuna’s games today. he protests with his hands up. “i’m no fuckin’ stalker, sweetheart. just came to drop off your jacket. yuuji said you left it at his place the other day.” you don’t remember leaving anything at yuuji’s, but lo and behold, sukuna takes a jacket out of his seat compartment that looks awfully like one of yours. you stiffly accept it and look away. 
“you free tonight?” your head snaps to meet his eyes and that stupid smirk shone back at you. you turn away to walk back to your car. “nope. sorry! i’m leaving right now,” you swiftly call back to him over your shoulder. because of your height difference, he catches up to you in three strides. 
he grabs your wrist, halting you before you reach the driver’s door handle. “hey, what’s the rush? you literally got back home,” he was right. you did have things to get from your apartment, but you were more annoyed with his ambush that you simply wanted to drive home to get away. 
“can’t you see i’m busy?” sukuna gives you a furrowed expression. “with what?” his gruff tonality replaces the playful one he had before.
you were literally at your breaking point, couldn’t he bother you another day? you yank your hand away from his grip. you give him an icy glare, unwilling to answer him. he takes your pause to maneuver around you and stand in front of the door, blocking you from entering the car. his sharp eyes zeroed in on the tension you’re trying so hard to hide. 
“what’s your problem?” he asks sternly, his voice pressing against you. you clench your jaw, refusing to speak up. you hope he’ll just let it go. 
but he doesn’t. 
he’s still watching you, studying the ticks of your expression, searching. 
“come on,” he pushes, his voice quieter but unrelenting. “what’s really going on with you?” 
why the fuck was sukuna always around you when you were doing horrible? it was so damn irritating. you take a breath, more shaky than you wanted to show him. 
he didn’t miss it. 
you’re fighting back the anxiety and frustration that’s about to spill tears. 
“i’m.. it’s nothing, i just need to go home,” your stomach is turning knots. you hate the face he’s giving you. it’s digging at you, and sukuna isn’t one to back away from confrontation. 
his gaze sharpens, his eyes flickering with something you can’t read. “you mean your family home? like with your dad?” 
he only heard one phone call with your father, for fuck’s sake. you almost felt angry he thought he knew exactly what was going on. your heartbeat was in your ears at this point. “what’s so urgent that you’re fuckin’ running away all stressed?” 
your fists tighten at your sides, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. you felt like the muddy asphalt was swallowing you. you didn’t realize you were crying until a tear slid down your cheek. the words followed behind like a tsunami. 
“you think i want to go home?! i get told something and he just expects me to do it with no questions! i don’t even.. i don’t even have time to do this, but he—”
your voice gets caught in a muffle. sukuna had wrapped you in his leather-clad arms, your face smushed in his chest. he smelled like smoke and gasoline, which was weirdly comforting. 
“just.. cry it out.” he mutters. 
his hand is stroking your hair softly, like you were a small child to be consoled. you didn’t care to protest his sudden actions. your fists grip his tank top as you sobbed into him. you don’t know how long you both stood like this, but you could’ve sworn at one point that he was shushing you like a baby, which was again— weirdly comforting. 
when you tilt your head up, eyes red and puffy, sukuna slips a chuckle. you slap his chest, offended. 
“your first reaction is to laugh at my misery, asshole?” 
“your eyes are swollen, sweetheart.” 
you curse and press the cold backside of your hands under your eyes, hoping to reduce the inflammation. you’re both in silence for a couple of moments, him just watching you while you pretended to not notice the holes he was burning into your head. 
he finally spoke up with a hand tapping your cheek. “c’mon, let’s go somewhere.” 
you give him a gaping shocked face. ‘i’m sorry, did you not just see me have a breakdown about needing to go home?” 
he rolls his eyes as if you were acting immature. god, now you know how yuuji must’ve felt growing up. sukuna was definitely as sassy as he was now. “that’s exactly why i’m saying that, idiot. you can go home first thing tomorrow morning.” 
you open your mouth to argue again, but the looming dread you had of facing your father tonight still makes your stomach sink. a night to take your mind off of the stress you’ve been bottling for days.. yeah, that sounds like exactly what you need. you hesitate, glancing up at sukuna’s face, searching for any hint of pity, but all you see is that stubborn determination he had. 
“fine,” you murmur, wiping your hands on your jeans. “but if this is some dumb excuse to make me do whatever you want…” he gives you a sly smirk, visibly amused again. “when have i ever needed an excuse for that?” you smack him again while he walks you over to his bike. 
he grabs the helmet from his bike and hands it to you, nudging you with his shoulder. “just one night, sweetheart. then you can go back and deal with… everything else.” 
you take the helmet and sigh, feeling the dread slowly lift from your chest as you click it on your head. after he climbs on the bike, he stretches a hand out to help you on which you take gratefully. he glances back at you with a soft smile you hadn’t seen since that night you bandaged his hands. 
he feels like a lifeline right now, albeit you didn’t want to admit that. you just needed an escape. 
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you nearly scream when sukuna pulls into the “small spot” he said he knew. 
it was a traditional kaiseki house, one that screamed rich and elite. you were wearing casual clothes and your makeup had pretty much melted away after your cry session (you noticed that your mascara had also bled onto sukuna’s white tank top, so you scolded him until he zipped up his leather jacket with a grumble.) 
“you should’ve fucking told me we were going to a nice place, i could’ve gotten ready or something!” sukuna looked practically oblivious. “why?” he deadpans. you fight the urge to facepalm yourself and settle for an eye twitch. “sukuna, look at me.” you gesture to your face and clothes. he’s seriously aloof, giving you a monotone stare. “yeah, i’m looking. you look pretty, why?” oh. there’s nothing you can find to say to that because you genuinely didn’t see an ounce of deceit in his expression. he genuinely believed in what he said, it seems. you process the fact he called you pretty once you’re off the bike, which makes you a little bashful.
regardless, you tried to prim yourself before you stepped inside; praying no one paid attention to you and your unlikely date. that was obviously wishful thinking considering how big of a powerhouse sukuna looked inside the small joint, which made you curse him out mentally. does he eat entire horses? however, the server looked at sukuna with respect you didn’t expect, and sukuna talked to him with ease. you couldn’t believe the sight before your eyes; he was acting like a socialite with insanely proper manners. 
the server led you both to a private dining room, bowing as he closed the door behind you. you unbuckle the ruby shoes you were wearing, ironically the shoes sukuna had gifted you the week before. you hope he didn’t notice. 
sukuna takes the seat opposite you, sitting rather poised and formal. you giggle at him, breaking the royal silence you were in. he frowns at you, miffed.
“what?” 
“you’re like, trust fund boy sukuna right now. you look so serious i thought it was funny,” you explain. 
he grumbles and crosses his arms. “my grandfather… is big on etiquette.” he manages. 
you expect him to iterate further. “…aaaand?” you had sat down, resting your head on your hands, batting your lashes mockingly. 
his frown deepens at your antics. “grandpa owns a lot of businesses, so when me and yuu were young... he made us come to formal dinners. parties and shit. if we acted like fuckin’ animals, we’d get our asses beat.” you giggle at the thought of little sukuna causing a ruckus. 
“i bet you were a handful.” you tease. 
“more like yuu was. unmedicated adhd in a boy is hell.” you agree with a nod. you felt kind of warm inside knowing something new about sukuna. yuuji had told you in the past that they were well-endowed, but these details were cute and… endearing to you. 
“you like them?” you snap out of your thoughts to see sukuna gesturing to your gifted shoes, sitting by the door next to his boots. a small blush dusts your cheeks. “it’s just a fluke… i was rushing this morning and they were the first pair i saw,” your excuse was perpetually lame. 
he nods slowly, amused. “…right, of course.” he lays sarcastically. 
you were about to say something else awkward when the door slid open, bringing the first course along with a round of sake. you both say your respects to the food before digging in politely. the food definitely tasted as expensive as it looked. 
you realize you’ve actually never had a meal with sukuna before. you take note of how proper he eats, which was kind of a surprise for you (again). you guess you could believe him now when he said yuu was worse off than him— that boy definitely ate like a man starved. 
when you finish your last piece, you take a sip of the sake the server had poured out for you. it was much smoother and sweeter than the ones you’ve had. honestly, a little worrying considering how much of a lightweight you were. you decide that’s a dangerous game and settle with nursing the small glass you had. 
“how’s college been, then?” this fucking… you didn’t expect sukuna to do small talk, but here you were. “um, it’s good. a little tedious lately, but i guess i can’t complain,” you chuckle softly. “that kid kento’s in your internship, yeah?” the way he just knew random things adjacent to you was a little scary. “yeah, how do you know that?” “he’s a family friend.” thank god. you were beginning to think sukuna had a private investigator on you or something. “o-oh, how interesting. so you’ve known him for a while?” “his father has been partners with my grandpa since we were young, so yeah.” you simply nod in acknowledgment, unsure of how to continue. this was awkward territory to speak so casually and non-hostile with the man before you.  
“you look like you’re being tortured to speak to me right now.”
you snap to sit more straight and less avoidant, feeling embarrassed he clocked your temperament. “sorry, i’ve not exactly had any real conversations with you,” he looks unphased. “you’re too busy trying to fight me for that.” you give him a frown. “well you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself, asshole.” he simply chuckles and takes another sip of sake. he manages to look elegant despite the fact he’s dressed like a thug. “you’re easy to rile up, sweetheart.” 
you look at him incredulously. “you’ve got to be a sadist or something,” you exclaim with a small scoff. he hums. “not the word i’d use, but if it’s easier for you… sure, i’m a sadist for you.” “for me?” “i don’t mess with anyone else, if you’ve noticed.” you’re mildly confused, given that you know his track record, but you digress. you give him an unimpressed look. 
“…right.” 
he gives you a look back. “fuck you mean by that?” 
“oh c’mon, just because i met you recently doesn’t mean i didn’t know of you before that.” 
his weird look deepens. “oh? and what did you know of me, sweetheart?” he’s absolutely egging you on, but not in a way that’s teasing. he truly wants to understand what preconceived notions you have of him, almost like it was making him upset. 
“i mean… you’re a frat boy, sukuna. you get girls. you party. that earns a reputation, at minimum.” 
he looked a little hurt by your words, but he doesn’t let it stay long enough for you to notice. “tell me this, sweetheart. are you an introvert that only studies all day?” you stiffen. “…no, i’m not an introvert. and i like doing other things too,” “you liked it when i passed judgment on you being nothing but a booksmart nerd the first day i met you?” you shake your head slowly. “then you’re beating your fuckin’ stereotype. just like how i’m not the fuckin’ stereotype others say about me. understood?” 
you start to feel bad that you threw the same callous mindset he’s probably faced before, which was super out of character for you. you were an open minded and intuitive person. “i’m sorry, sukuna. i guess i’m just… having trouble understanding some things.” 
he raises an eyebrow. “like what?” 
“…well,” you take a sip of your sake to give yourself time to recollect. “i guess i want to know why you’ve been gifting me so much these last few weeks.” 
he visibly lightens up, slipping back into his playful demeanor. he purposefully takes a comically long sip of sake, causing you to laugh and smack him across the table, chiding him. “oh my god, stop! you suck, really,” 
he glances at you from the side of his eyes. “i just wanted to.” 
you look into his eyes, searching his gaze. a small smirk plays on your lips. a jolt of confidence hits you as you lean over the table on your elbows. “you got a crush on me, itadori?” 
he matches your energy tenfold, leaning towards you in tandem. you’re almost nose to nose. “inconclusive, sweetheart.”  
you sit back down with a small blush. “you’re not getting compensated for them, by the way.” 
he snorts, a deep chuckle following. “i never expected you to. they’re gifts, sweetheart. and i sure as hell know that little internship of yours pays in pennies.” 
you give him a withering look of irritation. “i get paid in experience, sukuna.” “that’s straight bullshit they tell you, you know that? you realize i graduate this year? already seen the way internships pan out,” true. “potayto potahto, dude.” 
his brows upturn out of amusement. you opt to change the subject from you. 
“you’re a mechanical engineering major, right?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. he just nods, his face giving nothing away. “how’s that, then? fun?”
he fixes you with a dry, almost exasperated stare. his eyes narrow slightly, eyebrows upturned just enough to convey that he’s calling your bluff. “is that a real question,” he drawls, “or are you seriously asking me about my major?”
you clench your jaw, resisting the urge to sock him in the shoulder. instead, you force yourself to keep smiling. “you nearly made me want to explode with your small talk, so just answer the damn question.”
a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he snorts. “if i told you i find this fun, there’s probably somethin’ wrong with me.”
you roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “there’s definitely a lot wrong with you, but whatever.”
he raises a brow, leaning in just a bit too close for comfort. “hm? say that louder for me, sweetheart?”
you feel heat rise to your cheeks as your lips slip into an involuntary pout. you hate how you can’t control your expressions around him—it’s like your face has a mind of its own. you avert your gaze and take a long sip of your drink, feigning nonchalance. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, the sake warming you from the inside out as you mimicked his usual unbothered attitude.
without warning, he stretches out his hand and flicks you on the forehead, a light but annoyingly precise tap. “idiot.” he mutters, sounding amused.
you groan, rubbing the spot where he flicked you. “when will you stop calling me that?” you whine, exasperated.
his laugh is low and unapologetic and his eyes twinkling with something irritatingly fond. “when you stop doin’ stupid shit. cute, stupid shit.”
somehow that pulls a genuine laugh out of you. you catch yourself mid-giggle, feeling suddenly self-conscious as sukuna’s gaze softens, just barely, his lips twitching into a smile. he’s watching you with this odd.. elated expression, like he’s seeing something new in you. you quickly clear your throat and try to regain composure, but the grin on your face lingers.
“what?” you ask, embarrassed, still smiling despite yourself.
he shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, but the faint trace of a smile remains. “nothing. just didn’t think i’d ever hear you laugh like that.”
a warm blush creeps up your neck, and you look down, fidgeting with the chopsticks. “i do laugh, you know,” you murmur, trying to act casual.
for a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze unguarded in a way that makes your heart skip. the silence stretches between you, not tense but charged, like something’s shifting that neither of you can quite name. he tilts his head slightly, studying your face as though he’s trying to memorize every detail. 
the rest of your meal with him was filled with this unspoken, almost serene connection that neither of you quite acknowledged, but both felt. the conversation felt more natural and genuine, you couldn’t stop talking it seemed. you found yourself stealing glances at him more often than you meant to, feeling a strange warmth in your chest each time your eyes met. there was an ease to the way you sat together, as if the world outside had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this strange little bubble.
not before long, you both had finished your food with much satisfaction. This is definitely one of the best meals you’ve ever had. when the bill comes, you half expect sukuna to pull out a credit card but instead, he glances at the check just a moment before he pays with a bundle of crisp bills from his wallet. god, that was unnecessarily hot.
"let’s go," he says, standing up. he waits for you to put on your shoes before offering his hand as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
you take it, the touch warm and solid. he’s particular about the way he holds your hand– not too tight, not too soft. that makes your heart skip a beat. not to mention your hand is small in comparison to his, but a weirdly perfect match. like a peg sliding into a notch. 
as you walk out of the restaurant, you feel the cool night air hit you, a refreshing contrast to the warmth inside. sukuna’s hand still holds yours, his thumb lightly grazing your knuckles as you both make your way to the street.
that’s when you spot it—an unassuming little ice cream stand on the corner, the twinkling of the fairy lights on its canopy making you grin up at him.
you tug on his hand, pulling him toward the stand before he can even say anything. "ice cream." you say with a mischievous smile, not even giving him a chance to protest. "you are legally not allowed to say no."
sukuna gives you a feigned look of annoyance at you but doesn’t pull away. “you’re insatiable,” he tells you, but there’s no real irritation in his tone—just the faintest hint of beguilement. you don’t miss the way his grip on your hand tightens, just a little, when you pull him toward the stand.
the vendor behind the counter greets you both with a toothy smile, and you instantly scan the flavors, your eyes lighting up as you point to one that catches your attention. "i’ll have the matcha," you say, already thinking about how good it’s going to taste.
sukuna gives you a side glance before ordering the most basic thing he could’ve chosen—vanilla. you can’t help but notice the contrast between his choice and yours, and it makes you giggle.
“you and giggling today, i swear,” he teases. you take the cone from the vendor’s hand with a small thank-you, sticking your tongue out at sukuna before giving your cone a lick. sukuna takes his cone shortly after, paying the man. 
walking together, hand in hand, the quiet sounds of the city hum around you. it’s almost too perfect, the way he towers beside you, both of you savoring your cones. despite the fall night being cool, soon your ice cream starts to drip and melt faster than you can eat it. you try to keep up but it’s a losing battle as your hands get sticky and little droplets threaten to trail down your fingers.
out of the corner of your eye, you catch sukuna stifling a snort, his shoulders shaking slightly as he reaches into his back pocket to pull out a crumpled handful of napkins. he must have grabbed them at the stand, almost as if he anticipated this exact moment.
“somehow i knew you’d end up eating like a messy kid,” he teases, his voice tinged more tender than you’re used to. before you can reply, he steps closer, raising the napkin to your face with a gentle hand, his fingers brushing your cheek as he dabs at the melting ice cream on your lips and chin. his touch is careful and surprisingly soft, as if he’s handling something delicate.
“thank you,” you murmur, the words almost a whisper as you meet his eyes. they’re closer than you expected, and you catch your breath as he holds your gaze, just a fraction too long. you look away, the heat of his hand lingering on your cheek, and take another bite of your cone, trying to steady the flutter in your chest.
when you finish, you make your way back toward his motorcycle parked beneath a flickering streetlight. its chrome metal was gleaming in the muted glow. you lean against the seat as he stands in front of you, hand on the seat space beside where you were situated. this definitely feels like a date now, you thought. 
his presence was grounding you in a way that felt both comforting and thrilling. he eats the last bite of his cone before wiping his own hands clean, then tossing the dirty napkins in the bin behind him. “can i ask one more question?” you look at him with a small smile. “sure, sukuna.” 
his hand that was now free of the ice cream cone instinctively goes to your other hip, not out of flirtation, but simply closer proximity. you were in the space between his legs, but it wasn’t awkward. it was just intimate.
“why’d your dad ask you to come home?” you let out a small sigh, brushing your hair out of your face to no avail as the wind pushes in your face again. you look a little solemn as you speak. “he wants me to help my brother with entrance exams for secondary school. i’m really just doing the work of a tutor, which i can’t imagine my father couldn’t afford, especially in terms of my brother.. but, i have duties that are unspoken, i guess. that i’m just expected to follow through. my tuition for university is paid by him, so i can’t exactly ghost my family. and my mom is still great with me, so.. i don’t want to lose her too,” you admit. 
when you finish you realize sukuna’s been rubbing circles on your side, deep in listening to you. “i know family’s tough,” he replies. “but you need to realize when it’s starting to screw you up. i’m sure if i didn’t come to your place, you’d still be burying yourself under all that fuckin’ expectation and you’d be burnt out by the morning.” you nod, the weight of his words settling in, and for a moment, you’re grateful for the honesty he’s bringing out of you. it’s strange, this feeling of openness with him, like he’s peeling back the layers you keep hidden from most people.
“maybe,” you mutter, looking down at your hands, which are still a bit sticky from the ice cream. “but it’s hard, you know? i feel guilty when i consider putting myself first, like it’s selfish or something.”
you hear sukuna inhale deeply, still focused on you. “selfish? putting yourself first is sometimes the best damn thing you can do. you’ve got one life, sweetheart.” he pauses, the weight of his gaze meeting yours. “if you don’t set those boundaries, no fucker’s gonna do it for you.”
his hand brushes a stray hair off your cheek that had been in your face for a while now, and your heart skips as his thumb lingers there. he leans in just a little, enough that his face is close, his gaze holding yours in a way that makes the rest of the world blur.
you swallow, feeling a warmth rising in your chest, a feeling that’s unfamiliar to you. “thanks. i guess i needed to hear that,” you whisper, genuinely touched.
he tilts his head slightly, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, though there’s something softer behind his eyes. “anytime, sweetheart.” 
without thinking, you shift your hand up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.
he raises a brow, an amused but warm expression lighting up his face. “tryin’ to feel me up now?” he chuckles, but his voice is softer than usual.
you laugh, rolling your eyes, but you don’t move your hand. “shut up,” you murmur, your fingers tracing idle circles on his shirt as you both stay there, close and comfortably silent. the connection between you was enough. sukuna’s hand shifts to gently cup the side of your face, tilting you to see him. you really see him. his thumb grazing your cheek, his gaze flickering to your lips and then back to your eyes. you feel like the world has stopped around you two. you feel the subtle pull of his fingers on your skin. your heart beat is pounding out of your chest, and you feel his racing through his jacket too. in that instant, everything feels inevitable.
the harsh honk of a car horn cuts through the air, dragging you out of the moment with a jolt. you blink as the abrupt return to reality makes your breath catch in your throat. you pull away instinctively, breaking the bubble you were in. the realization of what was about to happen makes you nervous and almost scared. suddenly, you felt suffocated again. you shift, fumbling your fingers with your head down. 
sukuna stands still, silent. his hand that was almost ready to pull you in rested at his side now. his expression was rather blank, but different about the way he’s watching you. it’s quieter, more reserved, like he's waiting for you to say something—anything—to bridge the gap that’s formed between you. his jaw tightens slightly, just a hint of frustration, but he says nothing. he doesn’t rush to fill the silence. his silence is weighty, deliberate, and you feel the intensity of it even more because of it.
you glance at him quickly, and for a split second, you wonder what’s going through his mind. he doesn’t look at you with expectation but with that unreadable intensity that seems to pierce straight through you. you swallow, breaking the silence first. “sorry,” you manage, the words coming out squeakier than you intended, the awkwardness making you want to jump off a bridge. god, strike me down now or so help me.
“don’t apologize,” he rasps, his voice low, rougher than before. it’s not a demand, more like a quiet statement of fact. “you didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”
his words hang in the air, steady and unyielding. it’s not comforting in the traditional sense, but it’s there—uncompromising, like he’s just being real with you. there’s no pushing or attempting to rush things. he’s waiting for you to say what you need to say, or to fall silent again. like whatever you do, he’s not going anywhere.
you instead opt to pivot like you usually do, and turn to get on the bike. you check your phone and give a fake little chuckle. “it’s getting so late, wow! we should head out. yeah?” sukuna realized you were definitely feeling weird about the moment you just had, so he wasn’t going to make it ruin the night you both had enjoyed so far. he only nods. “lemme take you to your place.” 
the ride was weirdly quiet, even though you never spoke on the bike anyways. it was too loud over the roar of vehicles on the road. when sukuna turns into your street, you feel a wave of nervous energy pulse through you again. 
the bike slows as he pulls up to the curb in front of your building, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. sukuna parks, but doesn’t make a move to dismount right away. he keeps his hands on the handles, his body still. it’s as if he’s waiting for you to move first. 
you shift off the motorcycle and walk to his side. you don’t give yourself the chance to second-guess it. sukuna looks like he’s about to say something when you press a soft kiss to his cheek, fleeting and sudden, just enough to catch him off guard. for the first time ever, you saw sukuna blush. before he can say anything, you step back already turning on your heel to run briskly towards the entrance of your building, heart hammering against your ribs.
“goodnight!” you call over your shoulder, your voice filled with the adrenaline rush you were feeling. you don’t wait for him to respond as you push open the door and slip inside quickly. the cool air of the building is a sharp contrast to the warmth that still lingers on your lips. You press your fingers on your lips, feeling your heartbeat even in your fingertips. you seriously don’t know what you were thinking… tonight’s feelings are swirling around you as you make your way up the stairs to your apartment.
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sukuna was sitting for five minutes on his bike in front of your apartment, brain flatlining. he was going to kiss you. he was so close to your lips. he thought that chance encounter was the most he was going to get tonight when you decided to do that and have the gall to run away. 
he didn’t wash his face that night.
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a figure with shoddy blonde hair puts out his cigarette stub on the wall, exhaling the last drag he had. the rooftop was empty, save for his friend. mahito sucks his teeth and throws the bottle of beer he was drinking on the ground, the shatter echoing in the dark night. 
“fuck, man! what are we going to do about that motherfucker?” he seethes, face red from his drunken rage. 
naoya chuckles at his lack of control. he didn’t seem as pissed about the whole ordeal, especially not as much as mahito. the fraternity wasn’t everything to him. and he knew good things come to those who are patient. 
“don’t think about him. we need to focus on the bitch that curved you,” naoya tells him coolly. 
mahito nods slowly, raring up with hype. “yeah… yeah! that ugly whore that got me jumped!” naoya just stares out at the buildings below, unbothered. 
“she’ll pay, mahito. just wait.”
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sooooo :) how was it guys :) as always i live and breathe for comments (and all reactions hehe) so please don't hesitate <3 i try my best to reply to everyone in a timely manner, but please have mercy on me if i don't </3 love you all!
peace luv bathtub!
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© sozila 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other mediums or sites. cross-posted on ao3 and tumblr under same alias.
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worldofkuro · 1 year ago
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile XV
Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
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Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Because I wasn't satisfied with the last chapter I decided to post the next one right now. I’m so excited about your thoughts because the plot is finally beginning !  I can’t wait to hear about your theories. 
“ It makes your boobs look ugly, another one please !”
You were being tugged behind the curtain already being undressed to put on another dress. Today you were with Alice, in one of the most expensive shops of all New Orleans, to find your wedding dress. It was an exciting, amusing and stressful experience. Alice was being, as usual, honest about the dress you have been trying for almost an hour. 
“ Alice, how many more dresses do I need to try? You know we still don’t have a date for the wedding? Alastor’s father is still missing.”
“ What about it? His loss if he misses the wedding. Now, I think I’ve found the perfect dress for you~!” 
You laughed behind the curtain. Alice didn’t even know Alastor’s father, she never met him but you have told her once that you didn’t feel comfortable with him and she decided that she would hate him until the end of time. You looked at the dresses you have been trying, a part of you was happy to be here with your best friend and yet you wondered…Were you selfish? You knew Alice was in love with Alyzée but they couldn’t get wed to each other… Were you hurting Alice without being aware of it?
“ Alice–?”
“ This one. This one will fit perfectly your waist, your legs, your shoulder, your chest. For heaven’s sake, I’m the best.” she said looking at her nails. Why were your best friend and your future husband so full of themselves while you were always insecure ! “ Come on, try this one.”
“ Alice.. I’m.. You’re okay?” you asked, taking the dresses off her hands.
“ Yes? Well, I’m still shocked about what you told me about John, but you know what we say, we don’t keep trash around us.”
“ Who is “we”?”
“ Me, Myself and I. Now, try the dress, doll ! I’ll find the shoes!” you laughed as you watched her running away. You sighed with a smile, you were surrounded by amazing people, you should try to be more sure about yourself.
The workers from the stores helped you put on the dress and your shoes. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt.. pretty. Really pretty. You smiled at yourself, moving the pans of the dress, loving the movement it was doing.
“ Can I see?”
“ Of course Alice.” you turned around. Since you could remember, Alice always knew how to dress you up. From her Christmas’s Eve’s soirée where she had found that beautiful dress from today, she would always come with outfits from other countries, always being new, unique, something Alastor scoffed most of the time. He was always saying that Alice was running toward the future without being aware of her surroundings. And Alice was always saying that Alastor needed to shut up because he was lucky to look good in anything.
“ Oh my Lord. You look ravishing, my friend!” she clapped her hands together, her eyes whelming up a bit. “ Oh God… I’m… I’m so proud of you.”
“ I haven’t done anything yet.” you laughed nervously.
“ Take the compliment for once. So, what do you think? I , personally, think it’s the perfect dress for you. But what do you think?”
“ This is my favorite too. but the price–”
“ Let me buy it.” you opened your mouth, ready to complain but Alice stopped you with her hand.” I know, I know, you’ve never liked me paying stuff for you, expensive things mostly. But please, just this one, let me buy it. I… The next time I go into this kind of shop might be for my own wedding, which won’t be filled with laughter and love like we just did. It might be selfish, but just.. I want this moment. I’m sorry–”
“ Okay.” you smiled, almost moved to tears by her comment “ But Alice, for your wedding, no matter with who, I’ll be there. There will be laughter and love, because you won’t be alone in this.”
You saw Alice nodded, wiping some tears from her eyes. You looked at her, your best friend might never be married to the one she loved, but you will never let her feel loveless. 
You took off the dress, as Alice went to pay in cash. You joined her once you were dressed with your own clothes and you both walked toward her place. You saluted the butler, who bowed to you.
You both sat down in the huge living room, sighing in relief. You took off your heels, your feet were killing you. 
“ By the way, if we need to find Alastor’s father to be able to have your wedding, do you want me to… pull a few strings for you? I could call the best of the best!”
“ No, no. I won’t lie, the fact that he is missing isn’t… bothering me.”
“ I’ll cheer for that. “ she winked at you before asking for wine. You laughed, she always loved Rosé. It wasn’t very strong in alcohol, it had a very good taste but when the alcohol hitted. Dear lord…
You didn’t drink too much, you had to walk back home yourself after all. You smiled when you saw Alice put on Alastor's broadcast even though she was rolling her eyes at the radio sometimes.
“ Are you hearing him? Gosh. I knew you when your voice was cracking, Alastor !” she shouted at the radio.
“ Alastor voice never–”
“ A woman can dream, dear. Gosh, now I hear his voice anywhere I’m going.”
You laughed behind your glass. Alastor was gaining popularity surprisingly quickly, which was good of course. It was the best outcome you could imagine.
“ Now, about my cottage.”
“ Alice, we told you we don’t have the money and you just bought me my wedding dress.”
“ Who is “we” my dear?”
“ Me, Myself and I.” You stuck your tongue at her, making her laugh. Alice was a girl ahead of her time with her manners and way of talking, she always felt like a breeze of fresh air. 
“ Well, if you all say so.” She took a sip of a drink before looking at the door, her father making his entrance. You stood up as the big man smiled at you, he always has been nice, never raising his voice, always wanting what’s best for Alice.
“ Oh, good afternoon ladies. Alice, I just wanted to tell you that you might have a date with the son of the–”
“ Yes Daddy, I know, don’t worry I’ll go.” she said, looking away. You saw her father smile sadly before leaving after giving you both candy you used to like when you were younger. You looked at her, worried. Was she going to be okay? “ Don’t look at me like that Doll. It’s going to be the same as usual, I’m going there, bat my pretty eyes and at the end, I’ll just say to Daddy that the man wasn’t what we needed for the family.”
“ How long do you think you can keep this game going?”
She stared at the large windows in silence. Alice was just like a bird in a cage, she felt like freedom, but would never taste it for herself.
“ As long as I can.”
You stayed with her until the sun was setting down. The maid took her to her bedroom as she was sleeping on the sofa. Seems like going on another date was getting harder and harder for her. Was Alyzée aware of it? You sighed as you gave your goodbye, before walking out of the mansion. 
You decided to go into a park, walking between the trees. There weren’t a lot of people outside, even though we were in March, the weather was still cold. You stopped when you saw an old man fall not too far from you.
“ Oh sir! Are you alright, let me help you!” you said as you took the cane that had fallen from his hand. You helped him sitting down on a nearby bench. 
“ Oh, thank you little lady.”
The man was tall, black with brown eyes, a white beard, he was wearing a hat, helding on his cane, he seemed like he had injured his leg.
“ Do you want me to take a look at your leg? I’m no nurse, but I used to help my father when he came back from war.”
“ Ahh, war. You don’t need to take care of me, little lady.” he smiled warmly at you. “ You look sad yourself, do you need to talk about it with an old man?”
You looked at him, he felt so warm and he was… cute. His aura was gentle, cute like a kid that wanted to learn something new. You haven’t seen your grandfather since he died during the war, you haven’t had the strength to go back to your old country to go to his grave so… Maybe why not indulge yourself and talk with this man?
“ I’m… I want to help a friend, she is in love but can’t marry that person.”
“ Aah, love. And why can’t she?”
“ She had to marry someone from “noble blood”.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. It was bullshit. “ She has no choice.”
“ Mhn… I think she does, little lady. We always have a choice, when you think you don’t have one, it’s because you already made up your mind. “ he smiled at you with eyes that held so much wisdom. 
“ But… What if the other choices are more dangerous?” you asked, feeling like you weren’t talking about Alice anymore.
“ Well, little lady. What would you do?” 
You stopped talking. You killed to be with the one you wanted. You had a choice and yet..
“ Are you unhappy with the choices you made?” 
“ No, but I’m afraid of what it will bring at my door.”
“ Aah.. Si jeunesse savait, si vieillesse pouvait.”
“ What?”
“ You will see, little lady. Your friend is maybe so blinded by what she has to do that she can’t see what she could do. Love is the deadliest poison and yet the sweetest remedy in the world. She should try to think for herself, don’t you think? Would you rather live your whole life in misery or be happy for a short time of your existence? The difference between existing and living is thin, little lady, but it exists.” he nodded before looking at the sky, seeming lost in thoughts. 
You stared at this mysterious man. He seemed to be around 60, maybe that is why he seemed so wise. You looked at the sky and gasped when you saw the moon in the sky. It was already dark!
“ Oh, I need to go!” you stood up but before leaving you took the candy from Alice’s father. You smiled at the man, placing the candy in his veiny hands. “ Thank you for that useful advice.” You beamed at him as he looked curiously at the candy before smiling at you. “ Maybe we’ll see each other one day again !”
“ May our ways cross again if needed, little lady, may our ways cross…”
You ran back home, feeling better than when you left Alice’s house. You walked inside and saw your father with Jeff in the living room. They were still trying to understand how Alastor’s father could have disappeared like this. You smiled at the men, walking toward them.
“ Nothing news?”
“ No, my sweet daughter. We are trying, but from the moment he left the bar he wasn’t seen anymore.”
“ I’m sure the wife was having an affair and decided to kill the husband. Classic scenarios.”
“ And how could she have done that?” you sat on the sofa, staring at Jeff with an innocent smile. You almost smirked when you saw him puffing his chest, feeling so much pride in vomiting all the information he should kept away from you.
“ The man came home, drunk. She could easily poison him, hide the body somewhere and end the story.”
“ Mhn… But without a body, you don’t know. What if he was the one having an affair and ran away? From what I understood, he seemed to be someone who drank a lot, maybe he was being ambushed in an alley because we know for a fact he never made it back home.” you smiled at him, your father smiling with pride by your side.
“ That what they say but–”
“ No, that’s what we said. I was there. I’ve never seen this man come back home.” you stared at him down. He shut his mouth. “ You see, I really want to get married and the fact that you are trying to put the blame on my future family in law is getting on my nerves. So please, do me, us, a favor, find out what happened. And if you are unable to, just give up.” you looked at your father. “ I don’t want to wait forever, I want to get married.”
Your father stared at you before kissing your forehead.
“ Alright sweetie, we have a new man who’ll help us in this case. I’ll give him three months, if he doesn’t find anything, I will close the case and we will concentrate on your wedding.” you hugged your father with a happy grin. Finally! 
You bid your goodbye before going into your bedroom, getting ready to go to bed. You listened to the noises downstairs, waiting for Jeff to go and your father to go to bed.
You were concentrating so much on trying to hear what was going downstairs that you didn’t notice the shadows behind you. You almost shouted as a gloved hand fell upon your mouth, muffling your screams. 
“ You’re such an easy prey, dearest.”
You sighed in relief as you closed your eyes. Alastor was really the quietest being you have ever met, which was surprising when he was the noisiest man on the radio.
You turned your head toward him, looking at his mocking smile. He was so full of himself. You bit his finger before letting it go, going for a hug. He hummed against you.
“ How did you come here?”
“ Well, the windows, dear.” 
You scoffed before forcing him to sit on your bed. You sat on his lap and took his hand with yours, playing with his fingers.
“ I have my wedding dress.” you smirked when you felt his whole body tensed underneath you. “ And you won’t see it, because I left it at Alice’s.”
“ Do you really need Alice in your life, dearest?” asked Alastor with an amused voice.
“ Yes! Come on Alastor, be honest with me, you enjoy Alice’s company?”
“ Hah ! I enjoy Alice’s contacts nothing more.” he rolled his eyes, pressing you against his body. “ She is useful and she can be amusing, when she is having problems.” he smirked at you, making you slap his shoulder, trying to contain your laughter. He was such a…
“ Well, I have some news on your father’s case, my dear future husband.” you smiled as you explained what happened with Jeff. You couldn’t help but grin when you saw Alastor beaming with pride as he listen to what you have told the policeman.
“ My, my… So, they think my Mother did it?”
“ For now, we know that we have three months until we are completely free of it.”
“ Have you felt it again?”
You tilted your head.
“ What?”
“ The need to kill.” he asked you, gripping your waist, pressing your body against his. You felt lightheaded.
“ N-N.. Well… I thought for a second.. to kill John.” you saw Alastor’s pupils dilated as he stared at you before kissing your neck. You tilted your head to give him more room.
“ Mhn, interesting, go on, why?”
“ Because he was bad mouthing you.” you tried to contain the anger in your voice, you didn’t want to wake up your parents. “ Who does he think he is?” you rolled your eyes, you were still hurt about what John has said but now you weren’t feeling sadness over it, only anger.
“ Would you like to kill him?”
You looked at Alastor who had his chin against your chest, looking at you in a way too innocent face for the conversation you were having.
“ Alastor, we can’t. There would be too much suspicion on us, we already have your father’s disappearance on us, if we kill John–” he kissed you feverishly making you sigh in the kiss. Oh, how you loved the feeling of Alastor’s lips against yours.
“ Do you hear yourself, darling?” he smiled against your lips. “ In your mind, you are already ready to kill him… ” he sighed against your skin. You stared at him, stroking his cheeks. You wanted to see the Alastor you had seen the first time you killed.
 The difference between existing and living is thin, little lady, but it exists.
You kissed Alastor on the nose, with an excited smile.
“ Not now.”
You fell asleep with new marks on your thighs and your neck. When you woke up the next morning, you were already smiling.
You stayed with your mother all morning, spending time with her until you decided to go to Alice’s. You didn’t know when her date was supposed to be, but if you could help her morally before she had to leave, it would be great. You took some pancakes you’ve made and walked toward her mansion, the butler let you enter, escorting you to the living room.
“ Miss Alice shall be here soon.”
You nodded before sitting on the sofa. You put the pancakes on the table and wait until you hear the familiar footsteps of your best friend. You turned your head and smiled at her, as usual, she was beautiful. 
“ Hello Alice.” you stood up and you both hugged each other. She sat next to you, holding her head in her hand. “ Mhn, the wine doesn’t taste good the day after, right?” you laughed as she groaned.
“ Please, not so loud…”
“ What a hangover.” you whispered, mockingly. She stuck her tongue at you before digging into your pancakes. “ Well, someone is hungry.”
“ I don’t want this man to think he has a chance with me because I seem eager to eat.” 
You smiled, crossing your legs. You told Alice that you needed to wait three more months before finally concentrating on your wedding. You laughed as she let out a sigh of pure relief.
“ Thank God, since when do we stop living because a man disappeared.” she rolled her eyes before eating the last pancake. You look at the butler who came to announce Alice’s date. And like an actress, Alice put on the fakest smile she could conjure, Alastor would be proud. You stood up as a man, looking around 40 came into the living room, he was sweating so much you could see sweat pearling on his forehead.
You gave Alice a look, encouraging her with your eyes before leaving, you even made a face to the butler who nodded at you, with a disgusted face. You laughed before leaving, going out to buy some pastries. You walked to the park, thinking about your weddings. Where should you do it? What about the honeymoons? Did Alastor want children? 
You stopped when you saw the same old man from last time, sitting on the bench, smoking a pipe. You grinned and walked toward him.
“ Hello, sir.”
“ Hello, little lady.”
“ Might I sit a moment with you?”
“ It would be my pleasure. You seem happier than yesterday.”
You smiled as you sat next to the man. You felt safe with him, maybe it was because his aura reminded you of your deceased grandfather..? You didn’t know. You began to talk, mostly about what was going on in your life until you began to talk about your wedding.
“ Mhn, you have quite the ring.” the old man said with a little grin. He didn’t have a ring on his fingers, did he never get married?
“ Yes, in less than three months, I will be able to concentrate on my wedding.”
“ Who is the lucky lad?”
“ If you are listening to the radio you might have heard him, his name is Alastor.”
“ Alastor heh..? Quite a name, quite a name…”
You smiled, happy that Alastor was getting a name to himself. You took your box of pastries and held one for your new friend. He thanked you before eating one éclair au chocolat. You smiled as you kept talking with him, the man mostly listening and giving you wise advice.
“ Being too confident is not a good thing, your insecurity might be a blessing on some occasions.”
“ What do you mean?”
“ Don’t be afraid, to feel afraid. The ones who don’t fear are gods, spirits…”
“ But it’s irrational.” you frowned, how many times you felt jealousy when you didn’t need to be.
“ Yes, but it’s instinctive. Here is some wise advice from an old man: trust your feelings.  Did they ever betray you in the past, when you needed them, little lady?” he looked at you with a warm smile.
You looked at the ground. Your family always told you, you were sensitive, you would easily be overwhelmed by what you were feeling or what was going on around you. 
But when Alastor’s father took the bullets, you didn’t know why, you felt it in your guts that something was going to happen. That’s why you had run outside to find Alastor and that's how you killed his father. 
But then, why did you not feel John’s romantic attention towards you ?
“ People who feel a lot are trying to balance themselves by becoming observant. That way, they feel more grounded, they think they are being rational, which can be good sometimes. But you mustn't discard your feelings, you’ll lose yourself like that. You seem like a sensitive little lady, it’s not bad and it’s not good, that's what you seem to be. Why would you want to be like others, they are already busy being themselves.”
“ So.. I should listen to myself more?”
“ It’s a choice you can make. Feeling emotions is a good thing, it connects you to the rest of the world.” he nodded before looking at the sky, smiling warmly. “ And isn’t it beautiful?”
You stared at the man. He was such an.. intense person in a way. Would he talk to you the same way if he knew you had killed someone and you didn’t feel any kind of remorse?
“ What if… by being connected to the world, I might be a bad person?” you whispered.
“ That’s your choice. For some people you will be a bad person no matter what you do, no matter what you think.” he looked at his cane before eating the rest of his éclair au chocolat. “ Soldiers killed during war, the winners are seen as heroes, and the losers as cold blooded killers. Who is right? They all killed people, they all did horrible things and yet they aren’t seen as the same. Your father have killed during the war, right? What made him different from an enemy soldier?” 
“ Because… he was fighting for what’s…right..?”
“ Who says?” he tilted his head, always having a gentle expression. He wasn’t judging you, he was just curious about your thoughts. 
You couldn’t find an answer to his questions.
You stayed in silence for a moment, thinking about the man’s words. What was strange, was that his words weren't shaking your morals, but it was making you accept them. You had killed, you wanted to kill again, maybe not as strongly as Alastor, but you wouldn’t be opposed to killing again, if it was to protect. You knew it was the difference between you and Alastor, you would kill to protect while you knew Alastor would kill.. Because he wanted to.
And you accepted it, you accepted him, you accepted yourself. 
You would be the wife to a murderer, maybe he would kill again, maybe not. You didn’t really care. You would be by his side, as promised. 
You opened your eyes, feeling lighter. You didn’t expect to feel burdened by all of this, but maybe, the fact that you were trying to make the wedding happen was a way for you not to think about what happened.
You felt better.
You turned your head toward the man who was looking at the people walking in front of you. They weren’t looking at you, just walking, not even caring about you. You smiled.
“ Thank you. I feel… better.”
“ Is it a good thing?” he asked, amused. You grinned.
“ Well, for my own happiness, yes!”
“ Then, everything is good.”
“ I’m going to meet a friend.. But, can I have your name sir?”
The man stared at you with his usual gentle and wise expression. You waited politely, maybe he thought you were being rude, asking his name out of the blues?
“ Legba.”
You bid your goodbye before walking toward Alice’s home. You were going to encourage her to break free from her chains! She didn’t need to marry a sweaty man, she could handle herself perfectly! You entered the mansion, the butler escorting you once again in the living room. Now, you just need to wait!
You opened your eyes, not even realizing you fell asleep when you heard shouting at the front door. You walked toward the entrance and saw Alice and the sweaty gentleman, your friend was shouting at the man, demanding his departure from her house while he was clearly trying to calm Alice.
“ What is going on?”
“ This man is just a filthy pig! Touching me like I’m some kind of harlot.” she was fuming, trying to contain her rage. What did that man do? The man, who didn’t seem sure of himself became more confident, pointing at Alice.
“ Maybe that’s what you are, kissing the mayor’s daughter like this. What a scoop that would be, unless we come to an agreement of course. I think you would make a darling wife Miss Alice. I’ll let you think about it, and if you need more convincing, I have proof. Now, have a great night ladies.”
And just like that, he left.
Alice closed the door before dropping to her knees, breathing heavily. You took her in your arms, looking for a butler or a maid but nobody was around, which was weird. You tried to calm her but she was panicking.
“ He saw us.. He saw us kiss.. Oh lord, what could happen if he were to open his mouth about it.” she was shaking, nipping at her nails. 
You calmly took her hand with yours.
“ Do you have any way to get rid of him?”
She looked at you, seeming torn to speak before sighing.
“ Don’t think I’m a monster but… Most of the richest families have.. people who do their dirty jobs? Sending… assassins or things like that..? I’ve never done that of course, but I feel so trapped right now… Oh, what Alyzée is going to think.”
“ She won’t need to think about it. Use your assassins.” you wondered if you were shocking her. Maybe you were a little too at ease with the idea of killing someone ?
“ No. They would report everything to my father and if they see the proof… My father would know about me and Alyzée.” she sighed, rubbing her face with her hands. You knew it was dangerous, you knew it could backfire but…
“ What about me?”
“ You? What you?”
“ Do you want me to… ?”
Alice stared at you before laughing so hard she was crying. Or was she crying so hard that she was laughing ?You waited for her to calm down before staring at her.
“ Are you serious ?”
“ Seems like she is.”
You both turned around to find Alastor, standing in front of you, the door open.
“ My dear, we don’t talk about taking trash out at the entrance, I taught you better than that.”  he smiled widely at you. Alice was looking at you then at Alastor, seeming confused. You sighed before helping your friend standing up. “ Is there a place we could talk about getting rid of the trash?” asked Alastor with a beaming grin.
Alice seemed to come back to herself, and she tugged you to her father’s office. She locked the door behind Alastor, staring at you. 
“ Explanation ?”
“ Nothing too serious. You’ve been caught in a big scoop Alice, and you need us to clean the mess you’ve made!” you paled, asking Alastor how did he know, did the bastard already told everyone? “ Oh dear, no, but from Alice’s expression, the only things that could make her so upset would be you or her lovely Alyzée. I took a lucky guess.”
“ Alastor, you are… your father… oh… that explains so much.” Alice let herself drop on her father’s chair. “ So, that’s why you didn’t want me to help to look for his father, because he killed him?” asked Alice, looking at you, confused.
“ We killed him.”
“ Of course you did.” she sighed, putting her head on the desk. “ I need.. a fucking glass of whiskey, I’m not having this conversation sober.” She took a bottle from the cabinet before sitting back in front of you. She poured herself after giving you and Alastor a glass. “ So, let me get this through, you both killed Alastor’s father and now you want to kill the man who knows I’m in love with Alyzée?”
“ Well, Alice, for once you made your brain work. I would almost be shedding a tear if I cared.” said Alastor as he sipped his drink. “ And furthermore, this man is a pig that needs to be slaughtered.”
You felt relaxed. You didn’t know why, but the fact that Alastor was referring to the man as a pig made you feel even less remorse than you could have felt.
“ What are you winning from this?”
“ Nothing–”
“ Doll, I know you don’t want to manipulate me. I know. I’m talking about your murderous husband. He wouldn’t help me freely.”
“ Using your brain for the second time? What a day folks ! It’s simple really, you are at the head of one of the richest families in Louisiana. Having you on my side is a plus.”
“ I’m already at your side–!”
“ No Alice, you could be cutting yourself to prove your faith and I would still doubt you. But a crime, that is a win-win situation. The pig is slaughtered, you are free, my darling and myself are doing what we need and everything is back to normal!” exclaimed Alastor with his usual smile.
“ … Fine.” 
As Alice and Alastor were talking about the contract, you felt shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes, trying to comprehend what was happening. You don’t know why but you remembered Legba’s words. You need to trust your instincts. You couldn’t hear Alice and Alastor anymore, you could hear footsteps… You could hear…a shovel digging into the ground.
“ Darling?” 
You gasped as you felt Alastor hand on your shoulder. What just happened ? They both were looking at you, worried.
“ I’m okay.. I just.. I’m okay.” you nodded, feeling extremely tired all of the sudden. “ Alastor… Where is your father's corpse?”
“ Six feet underground.”
“ I think.. I think we should check it out.”
“ Why dig up dirt from the past?”
“ Because I think someone is trying to dig him up.”
Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita @noraunor @fandomsbookclub @hokkaido97 @catticora
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a-milgram-sideblog-396 · 14 days ago
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ART DUMP - While we all cry about life, here’s some Mahirus too cheer us up!
close ups, info, and a poll for your favourite Mahiru under the cut! Pure Vanilla Cookie is also here.
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Yes I know I’m not very consistent with her face shape and the size of her features but I’m working on it.
First up, this fancy Mahiru outfit idea by @ispreadrabieslikewildfire that I decided to draw :3. I’ve technically already posted about this one so sorry for notifying this person again whoops. I apologise that this isn’t as detailed as it could be and is also already on top of another drawing.
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Then there was this Mahiru in a jumper with shorter hair, inspired by a meme redraw by @lobotami :3 (I enjoy how the two people tagged in this post both have concerning usernames). Many ideas sprouted. I first thought about Mahiru in a jumper and a short skirt and long socks, a bit like Muu’s school uniform.
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Then I pictured other lengths of socks, and if they’d have patterns or stripes, or maybe mismatching. I just left them blank here so they can be up for interpretation. Then I pictured different skirt lengths and if the crop of the jumper changed to for that or not, and how that’d change the shillouette, and then I thought about if her normal cardigan were cropped. And then if the jumper were sleeveless, and what the sleeves of her dress would look like, if any. I didn’t think of different boot lengths but I suppose I should’ve. You can see some of my ideas around here but they didn’t get very varied on paper. Anyway this one is closest to the original drawing I was inspired by and I made her hair longer TGEN I wanted to in the one before so keeping it shorter was the focus of my next few. I think I accidentally made her a little chubby in this one, which I’m not against, or maybe she has lots of layers on. Yes I know that hand isn’t very good, none of these are really, but I like talking about Mahiru.
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My new headcannon for Mahiru is that everything she wears is just some variation of one of the outfits in ai nan desu yo + her t3 sprite. Like she’s got lots of different clothes but they’re all kinda just the same fabrics and of the same colour but used in different ways if that makes sense. Because thinking about this is fun.
I like how this one is looking up, inspired by the smaller version of herself with bell bottom trousers. That came from the idea or her having these flowy sleeves like mini skirts on her arms, and as you’ll see I started thinking about her in trousers instead next, but I still wanted to capture that summery femininity here ig.
I’ve also thought about drawing the pattern on her skirt as blue with a white cloud pattern like the sky. And to take a more dreamcore or kidcore approach, put her in some saturated setting. Idk. I think most settings would be improved by the presence of Shiina Mahiru Milgram. Like when her 2025 birthday art was revealed I had the idea that someone could use a TV static pattern as the gloves and the top bit of her skirt I think. Anyway.
I also recently found out that the strange Eve character who keeps popping up, previous known as Damn-kun, has been officially named Mahiru. So I had to draw them together. This Mahiru came from the idea of having Mahiru in trousers again. When I started it my intention was to make a sort of handsome Shiina Mahiru but that’s not what happened in the end. I shall try again with a handsome Shiina Mahiru another time. Damn-kun Mahiru is less handsome-able to me, at least if I’m the one drawing him.
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I only noticed I draw both of them with a triangle nose when I drew them together here. Personally I dislike her :3 mouth idk how that happened. I wish I had put more effort into the texture of the jumper each time. And stayed consistent with her eyes. I think my style is regressing. Anyway I like to think this Mahiru has something like the pattern from her dress on her jumper and then her trousers are like formal straight suit ones but are the same purple has her cardigan.
Also here’s Pure Vanillia Cookie if you even care
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included because the cookie run children (fandom) are still at large so they might give me a few more delicious tumblr notes >:)
remember, I don’t want this to be comparing people, but two of these are designed by people who aren’t me so I’m sorry if having a poll makes the creators upset I’ll remove it if so but I’m pretty sure it’ll be alright-
imagine if pvc wins (he’s not a mahiru)
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mulders-too-large-shirt · 3 months ago
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s7 episode 6 "the goldberg variation" thoughts
woohoo! last night’s episode was pretty enjoyable, so i’m excited to see where we go tonight. hopefully they’re still all honeymoon-y and basking in that glow. 
so, today we might be dealing with the luckiest person alive. hmm. i wonder what sort of nefarious deal made this happen. or maybe there will be no evil behind the scenes pulling the strings. maybe he just really is lucky. 
i have no real predictions, except that there will be some sort of dramatic fortune reversal. 
i’m very curious about the next episode… could be really hit or miss. fingers are super crossed for a hit.
but first, we must tackle this one!
(post-episode thoughts: aww! this episode felt similar, vibe-wise, to some of my favorite episodes- like humbug, detour, jose chung, etc. i do enjoy a silly one, it must be said.
i think it's so funny that they're at this stage of being openly infatuated with each other- they kissed ONE TIME- and are now able to (mostly) communicate with each other with such clarity. less time fighting about science vs ghouls. less intense arguments (scully tells him what he did was wrong and why very plainly- nothing explosive like they're gotten into in the past). constant flirting. it makes you wonder in retrospect how much of their previous bickering came from unresolved tension. lmao.
a solid ep, one that shall be added to the rewatch list!)
we open in chicago. a game of cards occurs. this dude- who looks like, i don't know, scary john travolta?- has 4 kings in his hand. damn. what are the odds?
another fellow puts down and asks for 5 cards. scary guy with all the kings (later revealed to be named jimmy cutrona) says to let it happen, even if 4 is normally the limit. i assume that mr. weems, who requested the cards, will be the main character of today's episode. he doesn’t seem to know wtf is happening, but he puts $8,000 on it. other guy raises him 15! “i wouldn’t do that. this is all i need” <- a man with principles
hmm…. “now we show each other our cards?” <- bro has no idea what is going on
ahhh! 4 kings from scary guy to a straight flush from weems! now, you may be like me and not know this, but a straight flush beats 4 kings. he declares it beginners luck.
they don’t want to let him leave- they want to earn some money back. but he says sorry and leaves, LMAO. they’re trying to trick him. he keeps saying he thinks they're going up instead of down, LMAO
they’re going to throw him off the building!! and they do!!! he lands in some sort of pit? and crawls out! somehow not dead! he walks away….
who is this man… how did he get into some mafia poker game? and then survive being thrown off a building? he doesn’t even seem to know how to play poker. 
mr. weems, i want to study you…
intro time!!!! the full one!!! the truth is out there!!!
i wonder how he ended up being a case for our agents.
scully is exiting a taxi in chicago!!!! calling mulder
“i’m on the northeast corner of 7th and hunter, just like you asked. only you’re not here. so where are you?” her voice and the teasing way she said that is so funny. LMAO, BRO IS ASCENDING BEHIND HER, WHAT THE FUUUCK 
“oh…. around. hey, nice outfit!” <- BAHAHA, he thinks he’s so funny and she’s like "wtf is going on"
so the top of the building above them is leased out by a mafioso named jimmy cutrona, whom the FBI have been after for a while. there were agents staked out watching the place last night, and they saw the guy fall 30 floors, and into this shaft! but he walked away! hmmm…. 
they descend down the shaft thingy. it’s like an elevator but into the ground, i guess. idk. and they have no idea who this dude who miraculously survived is. mulder thinks he might have some sort of regeneration skill
“so, we’re looking for wile e coyote” <- LMAO, i thought she was going to say “wolverine”, but that is also good. and she recounts a story of a solider who fell 4,500 feet with only a broken rib- maybe there was an updraft
“i don’t know, maybe he just got lucky” “what if he got really, really lucky? that’s your big scientific explanation, scully?” LMAOOO
BAHAHA, why is her voice so funny? he’s going on and on about how many variables that would take and she just goes “i dunno” <- you heard her! she doesn't know!!
WAIT. i replayed that because it made me laugh, and i noticed her shining the flashlight right in his face and he giggles <- LMAO!! she’s in a silly mood today!!! i am so happy to see this in her!!
maybe he fell and broke this cart thing. mulder digs in the cart and finds an eyeball! a glass one, to be specific! so maybe they have to find a guy missing an eye.
the way she looks at him when he tosses the eyeball in his hand, LMAO
shoutout to that extra on the street scene who was acting the FUCK out of those 3 seconds of screen time. gesticulating hard af.
“there’s got to be at least 600 people with prosthetic eyes in the greater chicago area” says scully- a rather outstanding sentence, may i add- as they stand wayyyy too close together, buzzing an intercom. but only one henry weems made an appointment to get a new one this morning, says mulder! the man gets results!
“maybe he can’t see his way to the door” <- SCULLY, STFUUUUU (said with SO much love and a stupid grin on my face) OHHH he looks at her... and he SMILESSSS... stop. this is so funny 
an old lady exits and mulder catches the door behind her to sneak them in, bahahaaa
oh, it’s been a while since they’ve just barged into a building. they were pros at that in the early seasons. so this feels like coming home in a way. i will someday have to make a list of all the times they just walked into places without waiting for an invite.
they walk in, but someone asks for help, saying it’s an emergency. well! how lucky that this lady stumbled right into a doctor!
oh. well. she wants her pipes fixed?
“ma’am, we’re not plumbers” “i didn’t say you were” <- LMAO, she’s fed TF UP and demands mulder tighten the pipes!
mulder climbs in, asking if weems, who is the building supervisor, can’t be here. this lady says you might as well wait for jimmy hoffa. 
A CHILD COMES OUT AND SAYS HE’S TURNING THE PIPES THE WRONG WAY, BAHAHAAAA!! listen!! he is a fancy new england boy!! what makes you think he’s ever touched a pipe before?!
he yells that he knows that and scully bites back a smile (it’s so CUTE) but noooo! the pipe bursts in his face!!! oh, look at scully covering her mouth, oh my god…..  
NOOOOO, HE FALLS THROUGH THE FLOOR!!!! smile has been REMOVED from scully’s face as she LUNGES for him 
“you okay, mulder?” “yeah, it’s alright, my ass broke the fall” <- LMAOOOOO, poor sopping wet man. finding himself in such a situation. falling down a hole in front of the love of his life. but! he found weems!!
LEAVE HIM ALONE, WEEMS!! DO NOT BE MEAN TO HIM lmao mulder whips his eyeball out and asks him “want to try this on for size, cinderella?” <- yeah!! get his ass!
poor mulder is still patting himself dry with a towel… aww.
weems was hiding from “you people”, refusing to testify against jimmy cutrona. fair enough.
BAHAHAHAAAAA, MULDER GAGS WHEN HE PUTS HIS EYEBALL BACK IN THE SOCKET..... LMAOOOO, he smiles and turns to scully who is just watching him, not looking very interested at all
weems says maybe he just got lucky- except this bruise- “aww”, says mulder, turning to scully and pretending to pout- and he didn’t get to keep his poker winnings!
mulder is investigating his contraption. it’s a marble thingy… he presses the button and watches as the balls follow a series of really intricate tubes until this wooden dude gets hanged. and mulder says “ah! that’s craftsmanship” <- NERD!!! but weems denies it has any greater meaning. 
scully asks him to please reconsider testifying- jimmy will definitely try to kill him again, and mulder adds that they can protect him! which he refuses. 
“so, here’s the plan as i see it: we inform the chicago field office about weems, leaving it to them to secure his testimony, you change your clothes, we fly back to DC by sunset, and all is right with the world” <- BAHAHAHA, she wants to go hooooooome!! and she’s blatantly hitting on him. at least, it seems that way to me. oh my god. i used to pray for times like these.
but mulder thinks the case is just now getting good! “interesting, mulder, was when we were looking for wile e coyote” <- this mfer and her cartoon metaphors 💀
she gives up waiting for the elevator, declaring they shall use the stairs instead. but just as they leave, some gangster guy emerges! 
noooo! mulder gets locked out of the building- and he lost the car keys when he fell. can he get in there and find them before this guy kills weems??
scully’s little hands in the air motion when he tries to grab the door is so cute, BAHAHAAA
he buzzes for weems just as the gangster bursts into his room and shoots his lamp!
they get inside, somehow, to do a sweep…. and the gangster somehow hung himself on weems’ contraptions!
very lucky guy, indeed. 
somehow, weems seems to have vanished. and, just as it seemed, the dead guy was an enforcer for the catronas! his name was angie the animal.
mulder does a little recreation of what he thinks went down, including a fun sound effect to go along with busting down the door- i love a guy who is a loser! scully is smiling at him while he walks through this, and then angie the animal falls from the ceiling. everything seems to react in weems’ favor. 
scully sees the kid from before, richie!!! she introduces herself as dana, which, while very sweet, feels so strange to hear. and she asks if they can go back to his room, subtly getting the child away from viewing the dead gangster. that’s a responsible adult!
OH. she tucks richie into bed. probably waiting to tell his mother he just saw a dead body. and asks him about the sports posters all over his room. OH. SHE SAYS SHE LIKES BASEBALL. OH MY GOOOOOOOOOD. 
hey guys. i’m gonna have to do something drastic here.
she notices a contraption in his room that weems made for him, and it tosses a ball in a net. she smiles, thinking it is very cool. ohhh! he made it for richie when he was in the hospital!!! this poor kid’s liver doesn’t work. somehow, scully figured that out and i didn't, but then again, she's a doctor and i'm not. and he says that since he got sick, weems hardly ever leaves. HMMM… is he like an uncle or something? or perhaps the kid’s dad?
as scully asks why the world’s luckiest man would work as a building superintendent- why not go get a lottery ticket and be a millionaire- weems is hiding in the vents!
ohhh. weems is with richie. asking how he feels. aww, he tells him not to worry about the cops looking for him. but he says he has to go do something he’s been putting off. 
scully is calling around, and she seems frustrated….. there are no records on this weems fellow! not even a driver’s license. but mulder finds a newspaper clipping… he survived a plane crash in 1989! where he was the only survivor! that’s how he lost his eye. 
mulder thinks that maybe the crash altered all of his luck. she wants to know why he dropped off the face of the earth, and he wants to know why he has chose now to resurface. much to consider here.
weems heard scully’s suggestion to go get a lottery ticket. OH! he says he only needs 100 grand. OHHHH, he needs to get help for richie, huh????
he buys a ticket…. scratches it right next to someone….. and wins…. but the police are looking for him on the news, and he learns he will only get the money over many months!!! he says it’s too long. throws it away. and the other guy picks it up- but weems says to leave it in the trash, because something bad is going to happen. 
AND THEN THE GUY WHO TOOK IT IMMEDIATELY GETS HIT BY A CGI BUS, BAHAHAHAHAAAA
i saw that coming, but the CGI caught me so off-guard that i had a hearty chuckle about the whole thing
scully asks the cashier some questions- and he claims that the guy hit by the truck wanted him to have the lottery ticket, haha. 
LMAOOO, mulder ponders why weems would choose to now go get a lottery ticket. “actually, that’s exactly what you said, about an hour after you said it” (cutscene to mulder investigating the vents in the apartment building)
they divide and conquer to explore the apartment and its many vents- but another gangster guy approaches, looking for weems! he’s not in his apartment, so he crawls in the vent. 
weems hears someone approaching- he’s carving a little wooden guy- but it’s just mulder here to find him. somehow, he hides. mulder finds him in the vent and pulls him out!! HAHAHA!! he grabs him to have a very serious talk- but the other gangster guy is here!
gangster guy shoots, but the bullet somehow bounces off and kills him!!!! because weems had his knife in his pocket!!
poor mulder got hit in the arm, though. it is NOT his lucky day at all. 
mulder is getting his arm bandaged up in the hospital- he says it stings a little- and weems is here, too, when scully comes in with a deck of cards. he shuffles them…. which i liked watching. not sure exactly why. he tells weems to pick a card. and he picks a higher card than him both times! 
mulder asks how it feels to be the luckiest man in the universe- and weems says it’s a nightmare. “something good happens to me, and everybody else has to take it in the keister” aww, poor guy :( and poor mulder actually DID have to take it there when he fell through the floorboards. not fair!
scully clocks that he needs the money for richie. he is on every donor list, but has a rare blood type. “and he’s cn- something” “cmv negative. cytomegalovirus” <- okayyyyy, medical doctor!!!
they need 100 grand to get him into an experimental program in england :(
scully says weems needs protection from cutrona and his men. then he draws a king- and says they need protection from him. 
scully is mad at mulder!!! “i’m sorry, mulder. that was utterly irresponsible. you’re feeding the delusions of a man who has had three attempts made upon his life” <- (i'm nodding along) you tell him. i have to agree with scully here.
mulder says he would agree- but he doesn’t think weems is in any danger. in fact, he’s currently doing a better job dealing with cutrona and his men than the FBI seems to be.
but no!!!! there are men here to get him!! scully does not like how much faith mulder is putting in luck- he's betting a man’s life on it. 
she picks a card and she beats his, which prompts mulder to say they have to go right now.
weems steps in front of a bus as mulder runs to get him!!! his eyeball is knocked out. mulder checks for his pulse, and looks up at scully. bro. did he not make it?
richie is playing with a toy. ohhhh shoot, he is super yellow. this is not good.
weems made it through the bus crashing somehow. and he’s agreed to testify against cutrona. cutrona is hearing this news. “who says we have to get to him?” ... now what do you mean by that?
richie is being taken to the hospital- he asks for the toy weems made him, and his mom stays behind to grab it. ah! the gangster guy is here looking for his mother! we hear a grunt!
the toy is on the floor…. will it hang this guy somehow???
weems is watching richie in the hospital, and mulder and scully are here to tell him they haven’t found the kid's mother- he thinks they took her to keep him from testifying. her name is maggie, btw. not sure if i knew that before.
mulder asks him if maybe his luck hasn’t changed. weems runs out. scully says the kid is not doing well. he needs a donor within a few hours.
mulder wants to find maggie. they've relied on luck so far for this case, so he opens a phone book and finds a random number- muhayamin daycare. then grayson’s linen services. they call the second one.
ahh! weems is brought to cutrona. he wants to tell him there is no hard feelings, he isn’t testifying against him- just let her go. he says he doesn’t care what happens to him. cutrona says he will. 
they take him down in the basement of the linen place and tie him up!!! he’s on some sort of electrical wire!!! it is an elaborate trap that is hard to explain in words!!
and it zaps the other gangster guy instead!!! and then smacks cutrona in the head!!!
scully is waiting with richie as all of the city's electricity goes haywire- and the hospital lights spell richie’s name!
mulder is here to see the dead cutrona- who has the same blood type as richie!
awww, richie is able to get the transplant. and scully smiles at his little basketball toy.
the end.
well! this was a silly one. 
i will say, i enjoyed it thoroughly. but after last episode, which was fairly lighthearted, and this one, which was very much so, i do fear what will happen in the next one. still, we can’t critique that yet if it hasn’t happened.
well, i guess it did happen 20-ish years ago. it is just new to me.
they’re so openly flirty with each other... it’s gonna make me sick, lmao. 
scully taking richie back to his room :( scully making polite talk with him and saying that she likes baseball :( stoooop :( do you think her and mulder have gone to a game together yet? how do you think that went? do you think he was explaining everything the whole time and getting really excited and she was watching him nerd tf out and laughing?
as always, i request that someone drop the fic.
and then she was waiting with him in the hospital while he was hours away from dying :( oh, scully :( she makes my heart ache :( she's just so kind :(
GOD, and her reaction to mulder getting sprayed in the face by the pipe being to hide her smile so he wouldn't get upset... versus throwing herself at him when he fell through the floor because she was worried!! and then teasing him about getting new clothes... he was looking all embarrassed, trying to dry himself off..
AND how he snuck up behind her at the beginning and hung up the phone to yell "nice outfit". SO MUCH TO THINK ABOUT.
my initial thought upon seeing the last scene was: do you think that bracelet on cutrona meant he was an organ donor? or do you think they just stole his kidney. i mean, that is frowned upon, but... richie was dying, so. hmm!
maybe part of weems' luck is that cutrona just so happened to be an organ donor. maybe some gangsters have a little bit of a heart. but only when they're dead.
so, a good episode. i still have some questions about the overall plot, though, that came up in my head while i was editing my notes. we haven't seen spender or marita in a long while- are they really dead, or plotting a comeback of some sort? i feel like marita's character could have been used in so many other interesting ways. what was going on with her and krycek? is that over and done with now? was it a double crossing on both sides, or do you think either of them had feelings for each other?
are we still operating under the assumption that CSM was telling the truth when he claimed to be mulder's father? i don't buy it. but we haven't heard what mulder personally thinks, or his mother, who we left off last seeing in a strange place- on the hospital camera footage with CSM nearby- so i'd like to know if she is doing alright. we haven't heard any updates on the real or fake samanthas, either. i assume they're all fake and always will be to save time. and i guess that mulder had all the alien removed from him now, which is why he is better. but now CSM has the alien in him? even though i thought he already had the alien in him from when they thought they were going to be colonized a few weeks before? girl, idk.
in scully land, we also haven't heard from her family for a little bit- i'm curious about her brothers. i don't think we have seen anything from or about her younger brother at all, have we? i keep my eyes and ears open, but i don't recall anything. we only have seen bill who hates mulder, and we haven't seen him in a while, either. not that i'm complaining- he is a nasty guy- i'm just chomping at the bit for any and all family lore from our beloved characters. we haven't heard anything else about if her newer implant is continuing to make her want to drive strange places, either. i wonder if she will deal with that forever, or if the failed colonization attempt made that stop. and what are those alien rebels up to these days, anyway?
we also haven't heard much from skinner- you know, it's been a few years now, but we never heard if he actually went through with the divorce or not. but now he's got this remote control disease, so maybe reconciliation is not on his top list of priorities. he was staying alone in the episode where he got sick, so i kind of assume he isn't back together with his wife. i wish him well, for we all know that skinner is dear to me.
and i'm not expecting any of these questions i am raising to be answered, either- not necessarily now or ever, because i'm used to how this show works. just want to keep a bit of a list of what is going on.
well, i am expecting some angst in the next episode, which i am hoping will be well-written and not incredibly fucking disturbing like that one episode last season was (shivers at the mere thought). that one WAS well-written- at least partially- but it made me feel sick, so i couldn't take much enjoyment from it. i hope it is a scully-centric episode! a real meditation on her character!
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otaku553 · 1 year ago
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kk wow you went so much more in depth than i thought but that was awesome. sending another but pls take all the time you need to answer this one.
i don't think i realized you had a colored version of two of them til today because i was going off of the sketches you posted at the start of the month. the one that caught my eye in that and who i have a different perspective of now that i've seen full color is the shortest hero. you mentioned that the clothing didn't come from any one culture, but if you have an answer it would be cool to hear: what's the long cloth hanging off of the waist belt of this hero called? or, if it's part of the belt, what's the name of the full thing?
[ also a more in-universe follow-up: am very curious about the symbols all four have on their clothing and what your thought process was behind each. i'll settle for the shortest hero's butterfly-esque symbol if you just wanna do one (: ]
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Thanks for sending another ask!! This is probably going to get quite long again!
So first, to answer the question, there’s actually not a very easy answer for what that long cloth is called! It shows up quite often in fantasy outfits and armor of knights, and you might sometimes find it being called a tabard or a surcoat online. Really though, it’s closer to something called a monastic scapular, which is a western Christian garment that hangs over the shoulders and goes down to the knees.
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The tabard is usually some form of light tunic or jacket worn over chainmail and underneath armor, and I think in fantasy armor the stylization of it as longer and thinner towards the bottom eventually turned it into a pretty common thing? But the point is that it’s usually attached to something hanging from the shoulders and not just from the belt. But having something hanging in front of the crotch from the belt does have some precedence in the Roman pteruges, so this might be where that kind of belt fabric came from.
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So in the hero of yore designs, the pieces of fabric hanging from the belts aren’t actually very historically accurate, and follow more the trends of fantasy outfit design. But mostly they act as a sort of conisistent point between all the heroes that shows each hero’s insignia. This sort of hanging centerpiece of fabric has been a pretty consistent part of my designs for a really long time, though in my previous Kirby designs this mostly took the form of some part of a double breasted coat, like so:
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But yeah! On another note, while the hero of dark’s outfit isn’t based on any specific culture, the hero of soul’s (the butterfly hero) outfit definitely is based on Japanese clothing! The very long sleeves are based on furisode, but there are some liberties I took with the whole design as a whole, I.e. the pants are based on hakama in construction and shape but don’t actually have all the pleats a hakama should, and have added slits for style. You generally also wouldn’t wear hakama with fancy long kimono I think, nor would you use a tasuki with it. Tasuki are generally used to keep the sleeves out of the way while doing activities, while long sleeves are more ceremonial and decorative. I did intentionally keep the sleeves very long on the design, however, for character reasons that I might go more in depth in if I ever make an individual outfit breakdown post.
I’m sorry I didn’t get around to answering about the symbols! I also have a lot of thoughts about them, so I might also make a separate post about that haha
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ruthwritesalot · 4 months ago
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What's My Age Again? Chapter 2
I did a lot of rewriting over the weekend, which is why these posts are new. The existing posts have been edited.
Overview
Previous chapter
Next chapter
CW: physical abuse (explicit scene), homophobia
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Jamie's POV
„Hey, guys!“ Holden and I turned around to see Michael calling us from across the cafeteria. I considered running, but before I got the chance, he was towering over us.
“Hey!” Holden said. “What’s up?”
“I’m having a party at my place after the show,” he told us. “You guys want to come?”
No. Definitely not. But Holden, of course, answered like an idiot. “Sure, we’d love to,” he said before I could stop him.
“Great!” Michael left, probably to find other victims.
I glared at Holden before stomping off to get in line for the burgers. He ran after me. “Jamie, wait!” I ignored him as I grabbed my tray. “What’s wrong?” It wasn’t like I was gonna tell him off here, in front of everyone. I kept my eyes fixed on the lunch ladies. He tried again, grabbing my shoulder. “Jamie.”
It made me jump. “Don’t touch me!” I hissed, making a few heads turn.
“Sorry,” he said, looking taken aback.
“Whatever, it’s fine,” I muttered, not wanting to make a scene. The air was tense, but we managed to get our food and find a table without further incident.
“You know I hate parties,” I accused him once we were sat in the middle of the chaos that was a high school cafeteria. Our words were much less likely to be overheard here.
“I just thought it might be fun,” he said, clearly apologetic.
“Maybe for you.” Couldn’t he think of my feelings for once?
“We don’t have to go,” he pleaded. “Let’s just forget about it.”
“I can’t, because now Michael’s gonna keep grilling us,” I reminded him. “I can’t believe you were ever friends with him.”
Holden swallowed. “We’re still friends. He’s actually not too bad if you just give him a chance.”
I gaped at him. “Have you seen the way he talks to me?”
“Have you seen the way you talk to him?” Holden shot back. “He doesn’t have trouble getting along with anyone else. Maybe you should stop shooting him down.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, because he’s popular, I should like him?”
He seemed exhausted when he replied, “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Whatever.”
The rest of our short lunch break was spent stewing in silence.
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The week went by in a blur. Ms. Page made us put in insane hours of extra practice, even managing to pull us out of class, and by the end of it, we were actually kind of okay. Lisa wasn’t even tripping over me anymore, and Ms. Page seemed to be finding joy in her job again.
Then it was an hour before the show, and things were absolutely chaotic backstage. People were running around looking for their missing props, crashing into others who were pacing out of nervousness. I found a quiet corner and watched. We were all in basic black outfits except for Holden, who had on a white, skintight shirt. It made him look pretty hot as he frantically tried to help Ms. Page keep everything in order. I saw him scan the room until his eyes fell on me. He tilted his head, silently asking if I was okay. I gave him a thumbs up, after which he immediately went back to yelling orders.
“Jamie, if you’re done, can you head to the front and start greeting people? Take some of the pamphlets, you can hand them out.” She thrust a stack into my hands.
I took them from her, knowing not to argue. People were already trickling in. I positioned myself on the inside of the doorway, smiling and reminding them that they could donate if they wanted our next productions to be even better. They all seemed pretty willing. It was probably good we were asking for money before they saw their kids absolutely bomb, not afterwards. I zoned out quickly, which was why I didn’t notice them until they were standing right in front of me.
“James! How nice of you to greet us!” All of the blood drained from my face at the sound of her voice. They couldn’t be here. But when I looked up, there was Mom, her signature fake smile plastered across her face. Dad stood behind her, wearing a nice button-down shirt like he usually did to work, complete with the faint smell of alcohol on his breath. It was accompanied by a look of absolute distain as he gazed down at me, letting me know beyond any doubt that coming here had not been his idea.
“What are you doing here?” I asked before I could stop myself. I immediately racked my brain, but I couldn’t figure out ever mentioning the show. Why would I? There was nothing to tell. I was a backup dancer in a show so bad it might as well be a comedy. They didn’t need to know about it. I didn’t think they’d even want to.
“Your teacher sent out an email a few weeks ago, and I thought it might be nice! Is this why you’ve been spending so much time away from home? I barely even see you anymore!” She said the last part reproachfully, and I stared at her, wondering if she was really that delusional.
I decided to force a laugh. “Yeah, it’s been keeping me pretty busy. You know, Mom, you’re kind of holding up the line, so-”
“Don’t disrespect your mother like that.” Dad’s voice was harsh. It immediately made me want to crawl into a hole and hide, but I couldn’t. I could only stand there, frozen, as his eyes shot daggers at me.
I felt heat rising to my face, and my breath shortened. “I wasn’t-” I started, but faltered at the flash in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” I murmured.
Mom sighed. “Honestly, John. Let’s just go.” She took his hand and led him inside. I watched them, wondering how she’d even convinced him to come. What was her plan? Was she actually interested in what I was doing? Maybe I’d judged her wrong. Maybe they’d like the show, and they’d be okay with the fact that I was dancing instead of playing football. They’d decide I wasn’t such an embarrassment. If I went about it tactfully, maybe I could even introduce them to Holden. Everything would be okay.
Soon, Anna and Matt were at the front of the line. “Jamie, are you okay?” Anna asked immediately. “You look a bit pale.”
“I’m fine,” I reassured her. “It’s just the stage makeup.”
“Okay then, if you’re sure. Good luck, I’m sure you’ll be great.” She took a pamphlet and followed Mom and Dad inside. I wanted to call after her and tell her everything, but I knew that would only bring more trouble. Instead, I focused on not letting any tears fall as I shakily handed out the rest of the pamphlets. I definitely gave a few people wrong information on accident.
When everyone had passed through, I ran backstage and frantically scanned the crowd, looking for Holden. I was about to run to him when Ms. Page blocked my way. “Jamie! Where have you been? You’re about to be on.” My reply got stuck in my throat. She sighed. “Just go. Hurry!”
I ran off, my throat burning. There was no way I could get through this. But once I was under the blinding lights of the stage, adrenaline took over. I usually loved these moments, when I didn’t have to think and my body just did. It gave me a few precious moments of peace that was over much too quickly. It was humbling realizing that we’d needed half a year to get a few minutes of simple steps right, just so a bunch of parents could clap and forget about it the next day. If I was lucky, maybe that would be the end of it for me, too.
By the time it was over, I was panicking hard. I ran off the stage, not caring who I crashed into. A few people yelled at me to watch out, but their voices sounded distant. I finally found Holden and grabbed his arm. He immediately turned around.
“What’s wrong?” he said when he saw the look on my face.
I couldn’t answer. I just wanted to get out of here. Being the absolutely amazing boyfriend that he was, he understood.
“C’mon.” He pulled me through the crowd and away from the auditorium. I let him drag me, not paying attention to where we were going. He took me through a door, and I realized it was a bathroom. Perfect. I wrenched open one of the stalls and puked my guts out.
He stayed right next to me, soothingly stroking my back. When my stomach was empty and I’d stopped dry heaving, I began sobbing uncontrollably.
“Did something happen?” Holden asked as he held me.
I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped away the tears and snot. I was probably absolutely disgusting to look at. “My um- my, my parents,” I managed to force out. “They’re here.”
“What?” Holden immediately tensed. “How did they even find out?”
“Apparently, Ms. Page sent around an email a few weeks ago,” I explained.
“Shit.” He banged the back of his head against the stall hard enough that it must have hurt. “What do you want to do?”
I tried to focus. What could I do except face them? “Maybe we should go to Michael’s party,” I said. “If we leave with someone now, they might not catch us.”
He agreed, but the plan ended up being futile. Instead of finding someone to drive us, we found Mom and Dad deep in conversation with Matt and Anna. I felt like I was going to faint.
Anna reached out for us. “You did so well!” She squealed. “I’m so proud of you both.”
Matt agreed with her, and I let them hug me after they’d nearly suffocated Holden. At first it was awkward, especially with my parents staring, but then I realized I didn’t want to let go. I might have been imagining it, but Matt did seem to let me hold onto him a little longer than normal.
“It’s so nice that you could come,” Anna said to Mom and Dad, making me panic rise into my throat. “We’ve been trying to get Jamie to invite you over for dinner for ages, but he says you’re always busy.”
Dad narrowed his eyes. “Did he now? That’s funny, this is the first I’m hearing of it.”
“Really?” Anna looked at me in surprise. My breaths quickened as I looked between them, which Anna, of course, had to comment on. “Jamie, are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re getting sick. Maybe you should sit down.” She reached out to hold a hand to my forehead.
Dad snorted. “Oh, please. You really let him fool you that easily? He’s just being dramatic.”
A look of understanding seemed to dawn over Anna. She not-so-subtly stepped between me and Dad. “I really think he should sit down.”
He glared at her. “Are you telling me to parent my own son? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I’m just worried about him,” she said firmly, taking my arm and leading me over to a bench.
I started to cry. I was definitely gonna pay the price for all of this when we got home, there was no way around it. I could see the quizzical way Mom was watching us, and the rage radiating off of Dad. Holden sat down on my other side and hugged me again. I wanted to tell him to stop, to get away from me before it was too late.
I saw the moment Dad made the connection. “What the fuck?”
Holden was ripped away from me and I fell before I had time to react. The first hit slammed into my back, then my arm. People were screaming, some of them calling my name. I ignored them, choosing to curl into a ball and close my eyes. Someone managed to get him off of me, and I felt a gentle hand stroking my hair. Then everything went black.
Overview
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flowervolcano · 10 months ago
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Oh man… I just read Deadpool (2024) #6 and I GOT MUCH TO SAY. But I’m gonna keep this Taskpool centric, I might do an overall review on the full series later but there’s a few talking points specifically about Taskpool I’ve gotta say before I forget ‘em.
spoilers beyond the cut so DO NOT READ IF YA DON’T WANNA GET SPOILED!!!
At least I hope this works. It’s been a while since I’ve done this, I don’t usually even do review type thingys but I’m really hyped ^^
Let’s begin….
Really loved the way Tasky looked here. But also find this pretty funny considering back in Despicable Deadpool he threw a guy/his wheelchair at Taskmaster.
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Interestingly enough, Wade called him Taskmaster more times in this comic than the previous ones. But he’s on business mode rn so he’s definitely keeping it professional!
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Because not too much later he then calls him Task-Daddy— WHY DID HE DO THAT???? Tasky, you aren’t getting out of this anymore, I’m sorry… I had to full stop and process this. We kept making jokes… we did it for months now and Wade finally said what we all been saying 😭💀
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This just interested me a lot. Both of them are talking about new territory, but it’s not the same kind. I think it’s really important for Tasky because he’s never actually been a father-like figure to anyone (not even his own daughter…) but maybe I was reading too much into this—
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I know this is very much in character for Tony to wanna brand more since he’s broke, likes good business, etc, but I can’t help but feel like this equals him being a dad to Ellie, why? he’s never had to brand anybody before, but he obviously saw promise in her and even if Wade may have thrusted this mentorship onto them both, he didn’t HAVE to do it like this, that he is explaining the reasoning just felt like an excuse/deflection, it was like he WANTED to have a piece of himself in her outfit but he’s just gotta act cool about it.
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I won’t lie when I say this “No Killing Rule” has piqued my interest the most, because to me, rules are made to be broken. And I am intrigued to see where this leads in the future and what will unfold. It is sort of a big deal for Wade to put onto Taskmaster, and I can think about how he may react if Ellie crosses that line— I mean it is his responsibility… I’m wondering if I’m thinking too much on this!
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At first I just wanted to add this in and say isn’t he just gorgeous here? But then I realized the dialogue is something to poke at. He’s somewhat pulling her leg here, but I also think it could be interpreted in a few different ways; he’s never gonna admit that he’s protective of her, but he is. It’s not just hit reputation that he’s concerned about okay?
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I also think it may be how he’s worked with Wade for a very long time, but with her, it’s a whole new world. It could go a lot of ways, but I’d like to think there’s a part of Taskmaster that is going to miss working alongside Wade and he doesn’t wanna confess. But being around Ellie is just gonna be a reminder.
Being around Ellie might remind him of his own daughter that he knows nothing about. And maybe he feels regretful about this. Idk maybe he doesn’t even remember her at all… depends on the writer.
—————
Loving the dynamic he’s got with her so far. They’re goofy and silly and I love to see him being the funny guy in the situation while Ellie is more serious. Nice change from Wade & Tasky. Really appreciate Ellie is her own person and not just a Deadpool 2.0, I think Tony likes that about her too.
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Finally. Love seeing these two interact. A lot. This is something I will REALLY miss now that… well you know… now that stuff happened…. And at this very moment NEITHER TASKY OR ELLIE KNOW THAT WADE IS DEAD OH I AM SICK!!! (Also why did Wade look extra cute here… there was zero reason for it. Thank you Artist!!!)
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Uh yeah and these were my little thoughts and such. I might of jumped over things and I’ve never really done posts like these. But this issue really itched my brain and so I wanted to discuss stuff a little haha. Hope y’all enjoy and ofc enjoyed the new issue!!!
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the-bjd-community-confess · 9 months ago
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Mod: I'll post Anon's more recent update first, and the older confession under the break 💖 I'm glad you're feeling better now Anon!
Hey mod, if you see this, I’m the anon who confessed about my cats catching a fatal disease and it making me want to basically give up on everything like my work and my dolls.
I’m okay now and I’ve made peace with it and whatever happens I’m just gonna give my cats the best life I can in the time they’ve got. It doesn’t hurt to look at my dolls anymore, in fact, I’m anxiously anticipating the clothes I ordered them for fall/winter. I love my cats, but this was out of my control and it doesn’t have to ruin my life. Sending in that confession really helped me come to terms with the situation and get my joy back. I’m happy to say my cats are happy and my new boy likes to steal my doll wigs (which I’m not so happy about xp)
Anyway, you don’t have to post that confession, but I don’t mind if you do. If you do though, would you attach this or some kind of note letting people know I’m okay? Life happens and my refuge has always been dolls, I was just worried that I had lost that too in my sadness, but they’re still there for me after all.
Thanks for listening, and I hope you’re well!
~Anonymous
Previous confession below:
CW: pet death, pet illness, depression, rant
One of my cats died, so I got another cat so my older cat wouldn’t be lonely, but now we’ve found out that my new cat might have a deadly disease and he may have already given it to my older cat, now we have to wait 3 months to find out if either one is infected or not with no real way to prevent my older cat from being infected in the meantime if she hasn’t been already.
Before we found out I got paid for the first time in a while and bought a bunch of new doll stuff because I wanted to get my dolls fall/winter outfits as the season is changing. Slowly, the items arrive and I dress my dolls, put new eyes in because I finally bought the new eyes I wanted, but I’m just so empty.
I’m supposed to be working too, but I have no energy for that either, nor any of my non doll hobbies.
I know that even if my cats are infected they have a good chance of living another 3-5 years (according to the vet and Google) but the dread is eating me alive. Every night I have to take pills to sleep and I stare at my dolls which sit around my bed on tables and they seem so empty now. My heart hurts so much that I don’t see the light in my doll’s eyes anymore.
It’s all my fault. I wanted a new cat to help my heart heal from losing my sweet darling girl, and I may have doomed the cat I had left, not to mention I might lose the sweet baby boy I’m already so in love with.
Doll stuff came in the day we got the news and I tried so hard to enjoy it. My doll is beautiful and maybe my favorite of all of my dolls, but there’s just no joy left. I wake up every day feeling like things might be okay and I go to bed every night looking into their empty eyes and wish I could just not wake up.
Why can’t I wake up tomorrow and it be December so I can be free of this not knowing and get back to things I love again. If my cats will have shorter lives I’ll be devastated, but it’s out of my hands and I can move on and love them and get my dolls and my life back and enjoy my life again, but not knowing makes me ill and all the things that once glittered and gleamed and filled my heart with joy just seem so fucking pointless.
As if the world wasn’t already crashing down around me, why this? Why now? Why can’t I just keep moving and enjoying my work and my hobbies? I’m so fucking exhausted.
I’m sorry if this isn’t doll related enough. I just need to say this somewhere even if it’s just a void. Maybe someone here can understand the emptiness of not being able to love the one (hobby) thing you love above almost anything else (dolls, my special interest) because life starts falling apart. I think if I said this to anyone else they’d think it’s stupid to care about pieces of expensive plastic when something bad is happening to a living creature, but dolls always spark joy in me even when bad things happen, but this is just so fucked and I’m so ill that they don’t even do that anymore. I want to feel normal again. I can’t change what’s already happened, but I can’t let it go and I hate going up to my room at night and looking at my dolls because it feels like they’re judging me. I feel like a monster. I just want to feel joy and peace again.
~Anonymous
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ironladders · 10 months ago
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okay so you gave us your thoughts on ashrahs outfits, your favorites, your critiques, now give us that same thing but for syzoth. hes got much more so i feel like you have more to work with here too. you can choose to include unused outfits or not
(this answer took me so long to type my god 💀 if this post is incoherent im sorry)
oh do i have OPINIONS on syzoth’s outfits. get popcorn because we will be here for a minute
since syzoth’s been around for so long, i’m just going to go in chronological order here because that’s what makes sense to my head:
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while he wasn’t playable until the second game, syzoth’s presence has been in the franchise ever since the first mortal kombat. fun fact: he was the first ever secret boss in a fighting game, being a male ninja recolor with a mix of sub-zero and scorpion’s powers.
there’s not much to say about this one; the arcade sprites couldn’t have much detail, and as mentioned before the male ninjas were all recolors of each other, so syzoth’s outfit doesn’t have much going on. still, i’ve always liked this classic outfit the male ninjas had. it looks comfortable idk.
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the outfit he has from the second game is, again, yet another recolor sprite. the only difference here from the first game’s costume is a few minor details have been tweaked & the texture of the green cloth has more detail. i actually think i prefer the shade of green here as opposed to the one he had the first game, not sure why though.
i'd like to see it make a comeback in mk1, who knows. but i wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t since he got his umk3 skin already
SPEAKING OF:
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this one is also nice, but it's pretty similar to the the previous costume so i'm really not sure what else to add here. there's lines, i guess.
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i actually really like how it looks in mk1 though! the textures are neat & they managed to keep the simplicity of it while still making it look nice. i also think the little cat ears resembling how john tobias drew the ninjas is really cute :)
now, savor those classic looks.
absorb how simple, yet cool they look.
because after mk3 is mk4/mk gold, which has….. syzoth’s worst costume ever:
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WHAT WAS MIDWAY SMOKING?
there is nothing good about this at all. full stop. making him suddenly have scaley skin is one thing, but does he have to be ugly??????? because he is so ugly it’s awful. WHY IS HE BALD???
i have mentioned i hate his union of light skin from mk1 but this is ten times worse. just awful stuff, all around
they did this weird thing with his mask where, when syzoth opens his mouth, the mask moves with it, so he doesn’t have to take it off to eat or bite people or anything, i guess. but that’s really dumb to me?????? can he not just take it off like everyone else in these games who wears a mask???? why does he specifically need the open-mouthed stretchy mask?????
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WHAT IS GOING ON. HUH????
also i really don’t like how they randomly decided to make the legs of his outfit purple; i get his skin is suddenly green and maybe they wanted some contrast, but come on guys. color coordination for these characters was established very early on, you can’t just throw reptile in purple out of nowhere when he's always worn green😭😭😭
i also don’t like the metal part on his crotch, and the top half of the costume is super boring. like okay sure graphics back then only allowed for so much but come on, do SOMETHING. this whole outfit sucks. burn it immediately like holy shit. mk4 was such an awful time for syzoth in general because not only did he get the ugliest design in mortal kombat design history BUT HE DIED IN HIS OWN TOWER ENDING.
you really cannot get worse than syzoth’s mk4 outfit & i think they realized how bad his design was, because midway redeems themselves in mkda:
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i actually like syzoth’s mkda appearance, sure he’s a bit freaky but this is leagues better than whatever happened in mk4.
his default really suits the more monstrous/animalistic vibe they were going for him, and i like how they leaned towards a more lizard-y appearance than the weird human with scales was happening in mk4. lore-wise it also makes sense, because he's supposed to be "devolving"/losing his shapeshifting abilities due to not being around a zaterran matriarch for so long. the outfit itself is also nice; i like the shoulder pads, and the sharp points all over it fit in well with his theme + general villainy. there's enough contrast happening to make each part of his outfit stand out, while also staying cohesive and just generally looking good.
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his alternate costume is also nice! they went for a different feel with it for sure, this one gives me "stuck in a desert and forced to fend for himself" vibes... if that makes sense. it's missing his regular color scheme which is.... weird... but at least it's actually interesting to look at and not ugly. i also like the animal skulls being used as armor throughout, like he hunted them down himself & then made sure to use as much of the remains as possible. it's cool!
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i also do like syzoth's shaolin monks costume. now that i'm looking at it, the mold here is pretty similar to his mkda default, just with some tweaks? there's more green in the outfit, which i like because of the contrast it creates, and i also don't mind that his face looks slightly more human-ish despite being all scaley. i know i just complained about that for his mk4 costume but that's because he was ugly there (the bandages covering everything also helps. i also really like those btw)
also! i think they should bring this skin back in mk1 because i know it would look good on him. i don't think, i know, because this is his alt in mksm:
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you see that??? HUMAN!! sure he's a little teethy, but he looks SOO GOOD in his human form wearing this. i'd really like to see mk1 syzoth in the mksm costume just based on this alone because i know it'd eat. the material is right there i just need nrs to act on it.
following the game release timeline, we get to mk armageddeon, where everyone keeps their appearances from the 3d era (unless you're a character who disappeared for several games and never got new costumes). so there's nothing from there to add. then everyone dies in that game, the wb acquisition happens, and with that comes the mk9 reboot.
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and like... idk how to feel about his mk9 default? it's just There for me. i really can't explain why, but there's something about this design that just feels weird to me but i have no idea what about it is throwing me off. it's not an awful design but it's just. boring to me for some reason. also i've never liked how only one of his shoulders has a shoulder pad; it's just a super random asymmetrical element to introduce in a design that is otherwise symmetrical. could at least make it big and dramatic or something but noooo
i DO like his mk9 alt costume more than his default like i LOVE it
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DO YOU SEE THE SNAKES WRAPPING AROUND THE FRONT WITH THEIR HEADS STICKING OUT FROM HIS SHOULDERS???? THE OPEN-MOUTHED SNAKE WITH THE FANGS AND TONGUE ON HIS CLOTH???? THE STITCHES ON HIS PANTS???? UGHHHHH IT'S SO GOOD. MY SECOND FAVORITE DESIGN FOR HIM. BRING THIS BACK IN MK1 NRS #PLEASE
the only other mk9 skins he has besides the klassic ones are the unused ones from the concept art.
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i.. do not like this. it's a pretty big departure from the vibes his outfits have had the past few games, and not in a good way. he's supposed to be a master of stealth and i'm sorry but i can't see him being stealthy in this really clunky metal armor. maybe if he was a more knight-based character i'd be able to get behind it, but even if that were the case i'd still want to tweak some stuff. like the lack of boots feels weird (i know he's got claws but come on) with how the leg armor just cuts off, and i don't like the mask. idk, i'm not sure why nrs considered this but thank god they didn't go with it
on the flip side, you have the mk9 concept art where he's human and ohhh myyy godddd he's beautiful........
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where is heeeeee 😭😭😭😭 i'm in mourning i didn't realize this existed until i started looking for all of his costumes, and i'm genuinely so sad because now this outfit will never see the light of day?????? he looks so good?????? the only thing i would change is the shade of green because i feel like a more teal color would be something they give to hydro or one of the sub-zeros. but other than that this costume looks so pretty, i need it instantly
there's not much to say about mk9 syzoth besides his appearance sadly. i mean, he's there, but i swear to god he doesn't talk a single second in all his scenes in the story mode for some reason. all he did was show up, get his ass beat, then leave. and sadly, this carried on into mkx
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his default skin feels pretty similar to his alt in mk9 in terms of silhouette, which makes me wish they'd been a bit more creative with this design, but besides that i like it. i was a big fan of the bones in his mkda alt and it's nice to see some incorporated again into another reptile outfit. it makes me curious if zaterrans have some sort of rituals/traditions regarding bones, but mk rarely elaborates on zaterran lore so #whoknows
my only real complaint about it besides the similarity to his mk9 alt, is that there's virtually zero green in his outfit (which also bothers me abt his mkda alt outfit now that i think about it). yeah syzoth's skin is green already, but it's been shown in games such as mksm that you can have syzoth be a green-skinned reptilian while also allowing his outfit to have a pop of color. there should at least be green accents if nothing else. like his tournament skin!
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i want them to bring this back in mk1 so we can see syzoth boobs huh who said that. hahaha!
but yeah i like his mkx alt a lot.......... the little tears in the cloth make syzoth look more roughed up, but that's probably the point. he's existed as the last of his kinda, working for the most heinous of men to try and bring back his species, for years. dude's gonna need to stitch some of his clothes back together lmao. i'm glad they retconned this to be his outfit from the tournament rather than the mk9 one, because it feels less lacking to me.
the only other official skin (besides the klassic) syzoth has in mkx is the kraken skin
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i like the concept of this one, i really enjoy when they do fun themed skins like this! my only issue is that the gold plate on his face feels really out of place, especially beacuse he's not wearing anything else? iirc there was an option to not have it, which... thank god lol. i also wish his skin was more green rather than the actual colors they went with, but i can excuse it since a kraken is a more underwater creature.
before i move on from mkx i need to talk about syzoth's concept art because holy shit does it rule
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some of these are definitely chops but with the good ones i feel robbed. betrayed. how could they take these from me
LOOK AT THE COBRA SHAAAPEEE
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LOOK AT IT!!!!!
and then it looks like they were considering giving him a tail, but for some reason didn't 💔💔💔💔💔 this is awful look at what we lost
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zaterrans are lizard people, okay. whether you want to design their true forms leaning more humanoid or animalistic, i'm of the opinion that they should always have tails, syzoth included. again, i feel like they missed out on giving him a tail because it allows for more unique silhouette opportunities
it also seems they were considering bringing back his 3d era outfits, or at least something similar to them, but...... both got scrapped?????????
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the second one i guess is more loosely inspired, but it reminds me of his deadly alliance outfit.... i dunno....
i need them to take one of these and bring it back to the new era as syzoth's emissary outfit. it just looks so clean and i know this would bang in modern graphics. the vibes it gives off too would be perfect for a syzoth serving alongside empress mileena. GIVE IT TO ME, NETHERREALM.
if you've made it this far along the post:
sorry
congratulations because we're in the final stretch 🎉🎉 we have arrived to mk1
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this is the best fucking default skin syzoth has had in any of these games and no you cannot argue with me. if you were not there when the banished trailer first dropped then i feel bad for you because literally everyone was rejoicing over mk1 syzoth. not only was every single reptile fan happy that he's a good guy & no longer desperately trying to bring his species back, but his mk1 design is flawless!!!!! this is probably my favorite design they've done for him yet because it's so fucking good!!!!
i complained about his mkx default not having any green, and they fixed their mistake becasue he has green in his outfit again. but it's not like an overwhelming amount of green, if that makes sense. i mourned him not having a tail in the previous few games, and while syzoth is tail-less in his human form the loincloth mimicking a tail in the back makes up for it & is just a super smart design choice. i also love the little storytelling elements in his default.... at first glance syzoth just looks like your average masked ninja, but upon further inspection you can point out all the little reptilian motifs in his design; from the tattoos to the silhouette of his outfit, and the scale textures scattered about. not to mention the keys at his hip hint at his role as shang's slave without fully spoiling his storyline in mk1. one time i saw someone say this outfit sucks and i'm sorry but i can't trust anyone who doesn't like syzoth's mk1 default, because again this is arguably the best he has ever looked. nrs did a good job by finally settling the "reptilian vs human" debate that was happening with reptile fans by just making him both!!!! they cooked SO fucking good with syzoth in mk1, which i'm happy about because for years now he was literally one of mk's favorite punching bags. all fans of syzoth wanted was for him to be happy and have an important story role, and he finally got that (even if it cost him a wife and kid and some of his mental health).
i have talked for way too long, and i think i've gone over his mk1 costumes in a different ask, so i will be brief:
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uol is ass, only rivaled by mk4. burn them both to the ground
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ood has to be one of my favorite looks for him, it feels like something he would've worn in the previous games, in a good way. big fan of the spikes and scales everywhere
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i like his earthrealm skin but at the same time he's got to be sweating under there lol. the only thing i actually dislike about it is that i wish they didn't remove his face tattoo but other than that it's great. i really want his jacket
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i did not get syzoth's christmas skin because i didn't have enough krystals at the time and it haunts me. every day. this is his only skin i don't have, and i wish i had just caved and bought some krystals for it. look at him he's so cute 😭😭😭 you can tell they had fun with this one. the dumb pointed shoes with bells are hilarious, his candy cane tattoos are really cute, and he genuinely looks like a really silly elf. you also can't tell because his hood is up but they even colored his hair white!!!! im obsessed with the little details on this skin
ALSO WHEN YOU HAVE HIS XMAS SKIN EQUIPPED HIS ZATERRAN FORM HAS SPRINKLES!!! AND CHOCOLATE AROUND THE MOUTHHH which he probably shouldnt be eating bc syzoth canonically cannot stomach human food.
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like are you kidding me hello????? he's adorable 😭😭😭😭😭 im so devastated i don't have this skin and that it probably won't come back until winter rolls around again
okay i think that's all his skins? i hope? because this post is so damn long & i think there's an image limit that i've just barely hit at this point. if i forgot any syzoth skins i'm sorry but also i'm at the point where i have got to wrap this up somewhere
in short: love all his mk1 skins except uol, mk4 is the worst out syzoth's had Ever, klassics are great as always, and i need them to bring his 3d era outfits back.
okay thank you for reading, bye
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rowzien · 2 years ago
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Oops new period interest. (Click for better picture resolution.)
The jacket is 1950s. The shirt is 1930s with a probably Edwardian collar, and the vest I made.
I suppose I’ll add some info on the vest here since I keep forgetting to make more posts (sorry). Some might know, but for those who don’t the print is Strawberry Thief by William Morris, which he successfully made in 1883. He came up with the idea when he saw thrushes eating his strawberries from his kitchen window.
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foreverdolly · 3 years ago
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𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 | 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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summary: you’re hoping to make a good impression on your new boss. there’s just one problem: he’s an asshole. a very hot asshole.
pairings: boss!austin x employee!reader
word count: 2.2k
warning/notes: you guys have begged for more fake dating, so here it is. the beginning of what will be the end. this love story is adorable, and their dynamic is my absolute favorite. can't wait to post part three in the next week.
↰ previous part | next part ↱
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“Well I heard he’s quite the looker.” Sophia mumbled under her breath, practically jogging to keep up with your long strides. The last thing you wanted was to be late for the big floor meeting, especially since you were about to be introduced to your new boss. That would be the icing on the shitty cake. Still, you refused to let this morning's parking ticket ruin your good mood. 
“Who said that? Nobody aside from Jeff has seen him, and that was only to finalize his paperwork.” One of the plant's leaves slapped you in the face as you began climbing the stairs, and with a groan you tucked the pot a little closer to your side, freeing up your vision so that you wouldn’t fall forward and bust your ass. You had picked up a little welcome gift for the newbie last night during your trip to the grocery store. It was only once you had gotten home that you realized that the plant didn’t have any plastic marker that stated its “preferences”. You hoped your newfound boss wouldn’t mind doing some googling in order to take care of his new greenery. Thankfully the man would be getting one of the nicer offices, which meant he’d have window space. 
“Martha from the first floor. She greeted him last week when he ran by to sign some papers.” Sophia was already out of breath from quickly climbing the stairs, muttering a few curse words as she tried to keep up with you and your fast pace. 
Martha was also a fifty year old crazy cat lady, so her saying that the mystery man was “handsome” meant nothing to you. If anything you were even more suspect about his good looks than you had been before. You let out a breathy laugh, freeing up one of your hands to open up the door for your best friend. 
“Martha also thinks that the mail delivery guy is a “looker”, and that guy has a receding hairline and buck teeth.” You were quick to fire back. 
Sophia looked like she wanted to argue, but stopped herself, a thoughtful look befalling her face. “Yeah. . . no, you’re totally right. Why didn’t I think of that? He’s probably going to have two heads.” 
You laughed loudly at that, turning to face your best friend as you continued the familiar walk to the conference room. “He’s probably bald- oof!” You grunted as you walked into a solid chest, the potted plant nearly flying out of your grasp. 
The person that you bumped into moved lightening fast, strong arms coming to wrap around both the pot and your arms. A little bit of dirt fell on the ground, and as you stared down at it you began to feel sorry for Javie, the janitor. You loved that tiny man. Behind you Sophia sucked in a breath, though you were too embarrassed to really pay attention to anything else other than the stranger’s dirt covered sleeve. You reached out, brushing off their nice- very expensive- blazer. 
“God, I should have been paying better attention to where I was walking. I’m so sorry.” You apologized, looking up at who you thought was Jeff. 
Because this person was practically a giant compared to most of the people on this floor, and the outfit and shoes? That was at least two months worth of your pay- if not more. Designer, no doubt. When you looked up, rather than meeting Jeff’s familiar brown eyes- you were met with blue. 
And there he was, in all of his glory. Him being “quite the looker” was the understatement of the century. This man was a model. His wire rimmed glasses did nothing to make him look boyish. The stranger in front of you was all man. For a few seconds all the two of you did was stare at each other. The blonde looked just as stunned as you did, his plush lips softly parted, eyes wide as he took in your features. After a moment he cleared his throat, his jaw clenching as he must have realized that the two of you were blocking hallway traffic, his hands still firmly wrapped around you. 
“We’re about to be late for the meeting.” He took a step back, and the loss of his firm grip on your arm nearly took your breath away.
Within seconds his warm, even soft blue eyes had hardened, his outwardly caring exterior turning ice cold. You tossed a look behind you at Sophia, dropping your jaw animatedly only for her to see before moving quickly to fall in step next to your new boss. “I’m so sorry about your blazer. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning-” 
He was already unbuttoning the soiled jacket, shrugging it off of his broad shoulders so that he was only standing in his crisp button up shirt and tie. His waist was narrow, accentuated by his belt. You could tell he was fit underneath all of those clothes. You hated yourself for it, but you were practically drooling. 
“Don’t worry about it. Just work hard for me from now on and we’ll call it even. Yeah?” He cut his eyes over towards you, and though you wanted to shrink under his gaze you merely held your head high and nodded. You were above outwardly fawning over the new guy. 
You weren’t, however, above silently crushing from afar. 
The man commanded the room unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Everything about his posture, his broad shoulders, and the surety of his actions told you that he meant business. Everybody stayed mostly silent as he introduced himself. Austin Butler. He looked like an Austin, you supposed. As he spoke you tried to rearrange the dirt in the pot with your fingers, smoothing it out so that it no longer looked ruined. The card in your purse suddenly seemed like overkill. You wanted him to think that you were nice, not a kiss ass. Then again, you needed to fix the horrible impression you had no doubt left him with earlier. He breezed out of the room the second that he was finished with the meeting, seemingly in a hurry to rid himself of the crowded room. Jeff was nowhere to be seen, but he had sent you an email earlier stating that he might be late coming back from lunch. His wife was out of town and their beloved cat, Mr Samson, hadn’t been eating well over the last week. You stood up, addressing the room with a bright smile. 
“Alright everyone, Jeff is going to be busy for the rest of the day, meaning you’ll either report directly to me or Mr Butler. Jenna? Can you drop by my cubicle before you leave today? I’ve got that Henderson file for you.” The blonde nodded, lazily joining the crowd as they dispersed out of the room. For a second you stood at the head of the long table, your eyes nervously darting back over to Sophia. 
“Thank god I work the payroll. I’d probably have a heart attack if I had to talk to Austin every day.” She mumbled, pretending to fan herself. 
You grabbed the plant off of the table, straightening out your shoulders as you walked over towards the door. “Well- let’s just hope that I didn’t fuck it up already. The last thing I need is for the guy to hate me.” 
You waved your goodbyes before heading straight towards the once unoccupied office. There were a few boxes on the floor, but there weren’t any decorations up yet. No pictures of wives or children, which you hoped meant that he was single. Not like you wanted to date him. . . just ogle from afar. You knocked on the open door, ducking your head in to shoot him one of your dazzling smiles. It usually worked on everyone. Almost everyone. Austin didn’t smile back. 
Your heart rate began to pick up as you held the plant up, giving it a gentle shake before placing it on the edge of his spotless desk. 
“It’s a little bit ironic, but I bought this for you. Consider it a welcome gift from me and my team.” Before he could say anything else, you were already digging into your purse, handing over the card too. 
He slowly took it from you, shooting you an incredulous look before opening it. You weren’t sure why. . . but his standoffish attitude was rubbing you the wrong way. Maybe it was the fact that he was outwardly perfect. You should have expected him to be rude. Pretty people are often rotten on the inside. You cleared your throat, pointing at the card. 
“Just a few words of encouragement. I thought it might make you feel a little more comfortable around all of these new faces. If you ever nee-” 
And then he did it. Did this thing. 
He sighed. He sighed like you were bothering him. Like your presence was a nuisance. Your face fell, your teeth clenched, and all at once you decided that you couldn’t stand Austin Butler. He was blowing you off. Shrugging off your kind gestures. Your unnecessarily kind gestures. Your hands balled up into fists at your sides as you tried to fight off the urge to slap the glasses right off of his pretty-boy face. 
“I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m really busy at the moment.” He was cool guying you. He was totally fucking cool guying you right now. 
“Oh,” Your voice had lowered an octave, shaking with anger. He seemed to notice, his eyes quickly flickering up to meet your face. “I can see that I came at the wrong time.”
You started to walk out of the office, flinching back slightly as you saw Jeff headed towards you with a bright smile. You were heatedly walking off in the direction of your cubicle before the older man could say anything to you. 
It was decided. Set in stone. 
You hated Austin Butler with a passion. 
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“Well, what was that about?” Jeff closed the door behind him, nodding off in the direction of the female. 
Austin read over the name again and again, signed in her adorable handwriting. He let out another sigh, tossing the card down onto his desk before he covered his face with his hands. 
“I don’t know. I panicked. Shit, now she thinks I’m an asshole.” His office chair creaked as he leaned back, praying that the floor would swallow him up. 
He had been so overwhelmed in the meeting. He probably came off as cold, which was exactly what he didn’t want to do. His anxiety had gotten the best of him today, and you were proof. Because he had seen you in the hall before you bumped into him. He could have prevented all of that from happening. And how could he not see you? He had been so focused on your button up blouse and form fitting pencil skirt that he had forgotten how to function. And then he learns that not only are you working on the same floor, but working directly under him. Meaning that he would have to talk to you. Every day. Austin didn’t do crushes. He was a workaholic. He was the king of heating up leftovers and eating alone every night. He was too busy for relationships, so it shouldn’t matter that the prettiest girl he had ever seen was just a stone's throw away from him. Right? Right? 
“Well, you’re screwed now.” Jeff smiled smugly, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back against the door. 
Austin’s heart jumped up to his throat, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form a sentence. He looked like an idiot. 
“W-What do you mean? I’m screwed? Do you think she hates me? Already?” 
Jeff opened the door a crack, peeking his head out. Austin was quick to stand up from his desk, joining him by the door. And there you were, tossing your purse onto your desk like the inanimate object had personally offended you. He had the perfect view of you from his office. He was doomed. Jeff watched her for a few more seconds before clicking his tongue. 
“. . . Oh, definitely.” 
Austin tore the glasses off of his face, tossing them down onto his desk so that he could rub at his eyes exasperatedly. 
“How do I fix it? God. . . Should I go out there right now?” Austin motioned towards the door with one hand, loosening his tie with the other. It felt like it was choking him. 
“Take her out on a date.” Jeff was smiling smugly again, shaking his head in pretend disapproval. “I can’t believe you already offended the most hot headed female that I’ve ever met. I was gone for an hour.” 
Austin sucked in a breath, his knees buckling underneath him. He had to lean against the desk for support. “I’m not going to take her on a date. I’m her boss, Jeff.” The younger male practically gasped. 
Jeff opened the door, leaving the boy with some parting words.  “I wasn’t born yesterday, Butler. I give it. . . six months. You’ll see.”
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unofficial-dawg · 3 years ago
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Wednesday Addams X Fem Reader | Bite Me Pt II
A/N: Y’all gave so much love to Bite Me Pt I, I simply had to deliver on Bite Me Pt II. Its rough around the edges, grammatical and spelling issues probably, spoilers. Also, Bite Me Pt III, anyone? My Tumblr is very much rough writings, this story will be fully fleshed out and posted to my AO3 (this is a massive project im working on this week and next week)! I’ll drop the @/link, when I get it completely set up, as pinned post. Also Xavier Thorpe x Reader coming soon maybe????
Word Count: ~ 1,712
Watching Wednesday and Tyler interact made your teeth ache. It was weeks since your fight, and though you both weren’t on speaking terms, her friends were your friends too. Or rather, your friends were her friends seeing as you had been attending Nevermore longer than the petite girl ahead of you. “You get a bad vibe from him too right? Like I’m not crazy am I?” You ask Enid. Her momentarily silence said enough but for her to have followed it up with:
“I think its good Wednesday is making friends and I can totally see them being a cute cou—“
“Finish that sentence and I’ll rip your throat out” You spat, pointing your finger at her, your chair sliding back as your long form becomes even more inhuman.
With a sigh of frustration you flatten out your outfit, having been a free day you wore several layers to keep you and yourself away from the sun. Even when it was raining,, the UV rays were a bitch. You re-tuck the band t-shirt that was overtop a long sleeve turtleneck. Your high-waisted jeans gave with ease as they were baggy, making it easier for the layers to adjust. You impatiently tap your left foot covered by a platform loafer on the ground, glancing to the side to stare at the girl you were enamoured with.
If Wednesday was goth, you were her grunge counterpart. The two of you looked..correct standing next to eachother. Complimented and highlighted eachothers beauty. You clench your jaw, your gaze focusing back onto Enid’s form, she sunk into the booth, her claws gripping the table, no doubt because she was quite startled of your previous outburst. Your anger was a force to be reconned with.
“I’m…sorry, I’m just—“ you look at her and begin sincerely apologising, “I-“.
You were stumbling over your words struggling to produce a coherent sentence, luckily, or rather unluckily, it is forgotten as man rapidly presses the countertop bell, “Where’s the service in this place?!”
You glance back where Tyler and Wednesday were previously standing. “Well isn’t that convenient”You grit your teeth in frustration. “Something isn’t right with that boy. This whole situation is fucked” You stare out the window in disdain. It appears Xavier also had slipped from the café.
“Y’know, y/n, maybe she gets distracted by you and thats why she doesn’t bring you with her anymore” The pathetic attempt to comfort you was appreciated nonetheless and you smile sadly looking down at the girl.
————————————————————
The following weeks didn’t seem to get any better. Wednesday was giving you emotional whiplash. You’d both hang out and the routine of back and forth banter would repeat and then suddenly she’d be ditching you to spend time with Tyler or stalking Xavier.
“It’s like I don’t even exist to her anymore” You complain to your roommate. Bianca looks down at you with an annoyed expression, “God, you sound like Xavier y/n…Seriously Wednesday isn’t that special.” She rolls her eyes catching the pillow you haphazardly throw at her.
“It’s not fair… What does he have that I don’t?” You finally show your face to her, the unshed tears seemed painful.
“Do you really want me to answer that question?” She smirks amused at the stupidity of your question.
“Ew. I do not wish to ever have to think about MY girlf—“ you quickly catch yourself “ about Wednesday being with Tyler like that. Or anyone for that matter. she’s mine.” you pout
“If you’re so upset why don’t you just talk to her? It’s a two way communication street y’know.” she lectures “I mean really, y/n/n, sitting here bitching about some girl? The old you would beat you to a pulp if she saw your pathetic ass like this. Over some girl no less.”
This made you pause, “Oh god— Have I been “moping”?” you put quotations around it.
“Brooding, whining, crying being a general nuisance.” she rattles off, “Look y/n, I care about you. But this obsession with Wednesday is turning you into this. I know for a girl thats been alive for this long,, you know more than anyone that people are temporary. And Wednesday will die one day, and what will you do then? Better to rip it off like a bandaid and start fresh yeah?”
“I mean she might as well have stabbed me with a stake in the heart, and not in the good way.” you sit up and rub your face in exhaustion. “I know you’re right, I just… love her. I love her so much and I want to go when she does. I want her to kill me. What do I do B?”
“You vampires are so dramatic” she says and amused tone shining through the mask of annoyance. “Go talk to her. Gift her your cold dead heart, play her your stupid violin, do something to show her how you feel. And when she inevitably breaks your heart pick yourself up and show her why she was interested in you in the first place. You’ve lost your spark y/n. You follow her around like a sad dog. A dumb dog.”
You slide on your jacket, and with a quick “Thanks, B.” you’re slipping out the door to track down the Enigma that is Wednesday Addams.
Enid proceeded to lie to you about Wednesday’s whereabouts for ten minutes. Very quickly you realise she is stalling and you rub your temples in frustration partially giving up on the whole notion of confronting her.
“And so then I came back from Yoko’s room and she wasn’t here.”
You quirk your brow in slight amusement “You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying!” she says fidgeting slightly
“oh right right. well if you say so.” You shrug pretending to turn and walk away. She quickly attempts to shut the door, but you had other ideas as you snap around, catching the door with your foot.
“But if you were lying,, hypothetically of course” you grin wickedly. Your form was always sickly and a bit inhuman, but when you would shift your posture slightly, and bare your teeth, you looked infinitely more nightmarish.
“Honestly, y/n! We got in a fight and i left, i only came back to look for my nail polish. My guess is the crypt” The girl in front of you cringes at the mention of the monster. You can only assume she’d seen the beast for herself.
Your hand that was resting against the door frame began to turn white, your nails were sunken so deeply into the wooden beam that it was splintering with every slight shift of your hand.
“Is she?”
“Thats all I know” she waves her hands in the air.
“Thank you for the information.” You pry your hand off the door frame and walk back towards your room, assuming you were probably too late. Subconsciously, you glance out the window not thinking you’d catch sight of the goth’s form being enveloped by the shadows of the woods.
With a newfound sense of anger you rush down the corridors to catch up with her. There’s a gracefulness to your movements despite the speed. You suppose it’s a vampire thing. Or at least one of your blood status though you never really bothered to care or pay attention to that.
“Wednesday!” You shout following after,, “Wednesday!”
“stalking me now are we, y/n?” she doesn’t even bother to look at you, choosing to continue on her path to the crypt.
“you need to get a better guard dog.”
“Why is it any of your concern? You think I can’t do this investigation without you?”
“You’re seriously sneaking out to see him?” You deduced, frowning whilst you finally catch up to her.
“You may be blinded by your attraction to him but he is just as much of a suspect as everyone else-“ You grab her wrist harshly.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” she wrenches her hand from your grip immediately.
You glance down at the faded puncture wounds she has on her neck. “so i guess that means nothing to you then?” your facade falls briefly
“We were never official.” she reiterates to you, almost brushing the thought off completely.
“Oh yeah? Cause vampire bites are just something to take so casual right?” You hiss out. “Whatever Wednesday. I’m sick of this shit.” you turn to leave but she grabs your arm. The uncharacteristic movement made you freeze, and hope had electrocuted your heart into beating for a few fleeting moments.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” her emotions breaking through from her usual somber expression and apathetic mood.
“How should I know Addams? You have everyone wrapped around your finger. Xavier, Eugene, who is in a coma, And prime suspect number one.” you readjust your posture, you were quite taller than the girl before you. “You’re gonna get yourself killed. And for a guy no less? For a normie? One that bullied Xav? You are so busy chasing after some guy to see-“
“To see you? Don’t be vain y/n it doesn’t suit you.” she drops her hand and stares at you, her eyes hollow from all semblance of emotion. Your eyes narrow before you turn around,
“As opposed to being what, Wednesday? A selfless idiot that would die for you? The world doesn’t revolve around you and I am perfectly fine in solitude just as much as you are, so we’re done.” You flip her off over your head, not sparing her a glance, as you head back into the castle grounds.
The way your eyes went from a blur of anger and pain to a void abyss greatly intrigued Wednesday. She tilted her head before turning around to meet up with her,, almost boyfriend? At least he didn’t seem to care for titles. Why did you? Why did it all bother her so much? She focused on the task at hand, ignoring the way her stomach twisted into a knot. An unsettling feeling consumed her whole as she arrived at the Crypt.
In your fit of rage, you tipped the police about the stolen motorcycle. At least you could fuck up their date plans a little bit.
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runnning-outof-time · 3 years ago
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To Be Alone | Tommy Shelby x OC | Chapter 29
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Masterlist
Next Chapter
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC
Summary: The Epsom derby has arrived. The entire Shelby clan is at the races and is ready to put their plan in motion. Celia gets so close to telling Tommy her secret, but his mind is focused on the task at hand. The task that goes south rather quickly.
Warnings: language, smoking, drinking, violence (typical to the series), season 2 spoilers
Word Count: 3160
A/N: this chapter’s shorter in nature because it otherwise would have been 5000 words had I not split it up...so I’m sorry but there’s a bit of a cliff-hanger at the end. Enjoy! :)
———
Celia felt sad when she woke up the next morning to an empty bed. The previous night was blissful. Tommy made love to her like his life depended on it, the two of them getting so caught up in the emotions they were feeling about the day that was finally coming. Now, her heart hurt as she held onto his pillow, trying to breathe in whatever was left of his scent.
She knew he had to go. Knew that he was needed by the group of men that he'd be taking to the races in order to take charge of Sabini's posts. She knew that she'd be arriving at the derby with Polly, but that still didn't make her not want to see him one last time. To kiss him and tell him that she loved him...to wish him luck. But she knew he didn't need it. He was Tommy Shelby. He'd get through this.
So she got out of bed, finding some clothes for herself to wear before she took off to the hospital. She had a check-up appointment for her and the baby today, and despite the major events that would be happening later, she knew that she couldn't put this off. She was pleased to hear that things were ok all around, and that everything was going swimmingly with her pregnancy. She even got to learn some more details about her baby that made her even more excited to tell the news to Tommy when she first saw him. Because she couldn't keep it to herself for one moment longer.
The next order of business was for her to go to Polly's home. She thanked the driver who brought her there before she grabbed the garment bag that held her dress and accessories. She let herself into the woman's home and found her sitting on one of the chairs with a cigarette between her fingers. "Something wrong, Pol?" Celia questioned hesitantly.
"He didn't listen to me," she said with a sigh, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray in front of her.
Celia furrowed her eyebrows, "who?" She immediately thought about Tommy, and wondered what he could be up to.
"Michael. He won't leave. He wants to stay...with the company," she answered, making the younger woman breathe a sigh of relief.
"Maybe it'll pan out well for him," Celia tried to look on the brighter side of things.
Polly laughed slightly while shaking her head, "he'll never understand. He's just blinded by the novelty of it all," she stated matter-of-factly.
"Most men are like that," Celia commented, both women laughing before Polly stood.
"We should get ready now. I've hired a man to take us to the derby and it's not a short ride," she stated, making Celia nod before she grabbed her garment bag and moved to the same room Polly was heading into.
Once she was dressed in her rose-colored dress and overcoat of the same color, she put the white hat she intended on wearing with it on her head. She felt extremely regal, and it made her forget about the real reason why she was attending the races for a moment. The outfit gave her the look and appeal that she was attending this event for the horses. Polly smiled at her as they met up again, the both women grabbing their purses before they stepped outside and greeted the man that would be driving them to Epsom.
——
The first thing Celia saw as they approached the derby grounds was the crowd. It was enormous and not like one she'd ever seen before. Polly walked her into the event like it was exactly where they were supposed to be...like they were two women there to enjoy the fan fair of the day. They locked their arms together before they moved to where they would be sitting for the event.
"This is amazing," Celia stated as she took in the controlled chaos that was happening around her.
"It gets pretty crazy once the races begin," Polly commented, a smile on her face as she watched the younger woman take in her surroundings. It was obvious that this was her first time at one of these events. "People can hardly contain their excitement."
Then a familiar face walked into view, making Celia's eyes light up. "Thomas!" she exclaimed, standing from her seat as the man approached her.
"Why so serious?" he questioned lightheartedly, a smile on his face as he came to a stop in front of her. She couldn't resist, leaning forward to kiss his lips quickly before she pulled away to smile at him.
"Because today is a serious matter," she told him, absentmindedly adjusting the red tie that he had around his neck.
He looked rather dashing, his black suit that had gray pinstripes contrasting starkly with the white button down he wore underneath and the red tie wrapped around his neck. She could also see his peaked cap of the same material sticking out from the pocket of the overcoat he was wearing. Mr. Robinson sure outdid himself with this one.
He just grinned, moving his head down to the left side of her face to kiss her cheek before he brought his lips to her ear, "you look beautiful," he told her, pulling back to watch her cheeks tint a darker shade of pink.
"Thanks, Tommy," she said, wanting to look away to hide her blush, but his eyes were just calling for her. Her gaze wouldn't leave them. "I wore the necklace," she told him, referring to the necklace he had given her the day before. It had a gold chain and a small diamond that was encased in gold. The diamond was surrounded by smaller, blue gems. Celia was hesitant to accept it at first, but Tommy insisted, telling her that he was going to spoil her with more things like this when he succeeded today. She knew that she needed to get used to it, because he wasn't going to accept 'no' for an answer.
"Now I know today's going to go well," he said, his eyes full of confidence. "You look rather nice as well, Pol," Tommy then peered over Celia's shoulder to see his aunt, sending a nod her way.
"Is everything squared away, Thomas?" she questioned, her eyebrows raised as she waited intently for the answer.
"Yes, it is. The boys are in their places, with specific instructions to go to work on my cue. I've briefed Lizzie on what needs to be done, and now we just need to wait for things to be started," Tommy nodded in her direction, his airtight plan (or what seemed to be one in his head) had been set up, and now all that had to happen was the races needed to begin.
"I hope you will be able to pull it off," Polly stated, a knowing glint in her eye.
"And Michael?" Tommy asked her with raised eyebrows then.
"Decided to stay. Doesn't know what's good for him," she responded with a defeated shake of her head.
"He'll only be part of this company's financial side. I'll see to it that it goes that way," he assured her before looking at Celia, who was just kind of standing in the middle of their conversation. "Do you want to come down with me to see the horse before she goes? May's waiting down with her," Tommy asked Celia then, who almost immediately nodded her head. But then she remembered Polly, realizing that she'd be left alone if she went with him.
As if she knew Celia's thoughts, Polly spoke before the younger woman had a chance to, "I'll be fine up here, love. Things won't be getting started for some time yet. Besides, it's not every day you get a chance to go behind the scenes at the races."
Celia then turned to look at the grinning woman, sending her a smile of her own before she responded, "thanks, Pol." Polly just nodded her head towards Tommy, her non verbal way of signaling for Celia to follow him.
So she did, taking Tommy's hand and letting him lead her to wherever the horses were being stabled. Celia's smile only widened as her eyes fell on May, who was currently waving at them. Tommy let go of her hand then, letting her go forward to greet the horse trainer while he stayed back to smoke a cigarette, desperately needing one at this point.
"It's so good to see that you came!" May smiled at Celia when the women were finally in front of each other.
"Yes! I wanted to cheer on Tommy's horse. Show my support for everything," Celia responded, being very vague on the 'support' because she didn't know how much May had been clued into.
"Hello, Thomas," May then looked past Celia to Tommy, who was approaching them now.
"Is she ready for today?" he asked, nodding his head towards the horse before he went over to pet the animal.
"I think so. My training team seems pretty confident," May nodded her head, both women watching as Tommy kept his eyes fixated on the horse. He spoke to it in a low voice for a moment before running his hand over its nose once more.
"I need to go see Lizzie. Make sure she knows what needs to be done," he told the women then, each of them nodding before he stepped away from the conversation.
"Is he ok?" May asked Celia once Tommy was out of earshot, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him walk away.
"Yeah," Celia nodded with a smile sigh, "he's just got a lot riding on today," she told her the abridged version of what would be happening, not wanting to give away too much.
"Fair enough," May nodded, deciding to end the conversation at that. "Do you want to go up to the bar and get a drink? It'll be a good way to calm the nerves," she suggested then.
"I'll come up with you, but I won't drink," Celia answered, making May furrow her eyebrows.
"Why?" she asked, voicing her curiosity as the women worked their way to the event's bar. The barkeep, knowing who May was, allowed for her to order without questions being asked.
"I'm pregnant," she responded, wondering at the moment how she could be so blatant about it with everyone except Tommy. Why couldn't she just come out and say it to him? Why did she feel the need to tell him in a memorable way?
Celia watched as a myriad of expressions flashed across May's face before she ended on a mildly shocked one, "oh," was all the woman said, and Celia couldn't discern if it was a good 'oh' or a bad 'oh', or a somewhere in the middle 'oh'. "Well congrats on that," she added, a smile forming on her features.
"Thank you," Celia took it for what it was, deciding not to read too far into her facial expressions.
"My husband and I couldn't get pregnant," the older woman then confessed. Celia saw this to be ok, as it was a family member talking to a family member at the moment. That still didn't mean that she wasn't shocked when she heard the sentence.
"Oh," it was Celia's turn to give the one word response.
"Yeah..." she trailed off, nodding as she took a sip of her drink, "we so desperately wanted kids, but it just never happened," she looked sad as she reflected on past memories.
"I'm sorry to hear that, May, I..."
"It's in the past now," May brushed her off, her fingers tapping against her glass as she looked to where the clock was hung on the wall. "Final checks should be happening soon. I need to be down with the rest of my team," she stated then, putting money down for her drink before she stood from the stool she was occupying.
Celia followed her, a smile forming on her face, "best of luck, May. I know she'll do good," she offered the older woman some encouraging words, to which she got a smile in response.
"Wish Tommy luck for me if you see him," were her parting words before they separated at the steps, May going down and Celia starting to walk up.
Her eyes fell on the very person that was on her mind when she got to the landing. His eyes were currently darting in every direction, and he seemed to be coming towards her at a quickened pace. She wondered if his plan had been put into action. Her heart dropped immediately. "Tommy," she called out to him, making his frantic eyes fall on her. For a second, he felt grounded.
"Celia..." he started, trying to slow down his panting, "shouldn't you be with Polly at the seats? The race's about to begin," he said, eyes flickering elsewhere to see who was surrounding him. He needed to get where Lizzie surely was with the Field Marshal before anything went too far wrong.
"I'm heading back now. May just left to go with the horse," Celia responded, her brows furrowing. "What's wrong, Tommy?" she questioned, noticing his frantic state hadn't dissipated yet.
"Nothing, love. I just need to go have that conversation now," he told her, using the slightly less gruesome wording for the scenario he was about to carry out. He couldn't flat out say he was going to go kill someone with people walking this close to him.
"Please be careful, Thomas," she told him, using his full name to show the amount of sincerity that was held in her words.
"I will love. I...I've gotta go now," he was looking around once more, starting to get fidgety where he stood.
"Tommy. Tommy, I'm..." Celia started off then, finally getting up the confidence to tell him. To just blurt it out like she did with May.
"I have to go, C. Whatever it is can wait 'till I come back, eh?" he stopped her before she was able to get the word out, both of his hands grabbing hold of her shoulders so that he could lean in and press his lips to her forehead. "I love you. I will be ok," he promised her once he pulled away, locking his eyes with hers to show his sincerity.
She didn't know why, but she had tears brimming her eyes now, and all she could do was nod her head and let him go, watching him practically run down the steps and out of sight to get to where he needed to go. She tried to collect herself, his final statement replaying over again in her head as she found her way back to her seat.
"You ok, love?" Polly questioned with confusion once Celia sat down beside her.
"Yes," Celia nodded, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief she had in her purse before she put it away and looked straight down at the race track. She could feel Polly's eyes on her as she held her gaze, but she decided not to comment on it, hoping that she would let her go and turn her attention back to what it had been on prior to her showing up. "Tommy's going to have that conversation now," her voice came out broken and in a whisper, and it made Polly give her a knowing look. She sat and listened to the announcers begin to call out the horses that would be racing first, while silently praying that Tommy would be ok.
Tommy wasn't doing so good. He was rushing to get back to where Lizzie had taken the Field Marshal. The first way he tried was blocked by a group of three coppers who refused to let him through despite his attempts. He then ran around to the other entrance, his gun out and ready as he made his way closer to where he knew she would be. After hitting the copper blocking the way with the butt-end of his revolver, he continued back to where the two were, calling out to the soldier while pointing his weapon at him. When a click sounded instead of a shot, he knew he was in trouble.
Meanwhile, Celia was sitting and watching as the opening introductions and speeches dragged on longer than she expected. Ok, maybe it just felt like that because she was waiting on bated breath for the sound of a gunshot, that would signify that Tommy had put the plan into place.
She only released the breath when she finally heard it, the first initial one being followed by three more. People around her started to panic slightly, but she and Polly stayed still. They knew what was going on. Word got through the crowd rather quickly of there being suspected IRA members at the event, and that they had just killed Field Marshal Russell. Celia sighed in relief again, knowing that (so far) Tommy hadn't been caught. She hoped that soon enough, he'd show up at her seat and everything would be alright.
Tommy had one more thing to deal with before he returned to where he knew Celia was sitting. He made his way to one of the banquet rooms that held several tables in it. He knew that Darby Sabini would be in there, and that this would be his time to explain to his enemy how things would be working from here on out. He found the man he was looking for and sat down with him, casually smoking a cigarette as he told him that his men were currently rounding up Sabini's licenses with intent to burn them, and that he was once again working with Alfie Solomons since he found out that Sabini had betrayed him by speaking lies about Epsom. He thought he had it. Thought that this plan of his would work out, that he would get away without a trace. That was until Sabini broke a bottle of wine, making the glass shatter everywhere and the coppers standing outside barge in through the door the second it occurred. Tommy didn't plan for this, so he tried to talk his way out of it.
Things clearly didn't pan out for him when the coppers immediately took him into their hold, not listening to a single word he was saying. He tried to fight them as they started pulling him in the opposite direction of Sabini, who was currently yelling that 'he had fucking lost'...whatever that meant. He wished he would have put a bullet between that man's eyes when he got the chance.
This was not part of the plan. He wasn't supposed to be captured, and all he could think of as he was being dragged to wherever the hell these men were taking him was: what is going through Celia's mind right now?
———
Tagged: @mootiemoose @theshelbyclan @alreadybroken-ts @cloudofdisney @stevie75 @kagome1414 @epicwaterlemon @magicalxdaydream @the-anxious-youth @woofgocows @joossieisdabomb @strangunddurm @pulisvertz
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hiatuswhore · 4 years ago
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𝕸𝖗𝖘. 𝖂𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 III — 𝖙.𝖈
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YOU BITE AT THE CHIPPED PAINT ON YOUR THUMB MINDLESSLY AS YOUR OTHER HAND DRUMS AGAINST THE DINNER TABLE. Macaluso’s is decently busy as the empty leather loveseat stares back at you. You glance at your phone for the third time in the past sixty seconds. This was a bad idea. Then, as if she could hear your doubt, Calliope enters as the walking embodiment of perfection. Her dyed honey blonde hair curls and coils perfectly, resting on her shoulder, making the mocha of her skin shimmer almost. A chuckle leaves your lips as she sits the obviously new Birkin bag on the table.
“Alright, I’ve been a shitty friend for months now please ease up on whatever this is. My entire outfit is from Ross,” You watch as she purses her lips with her eyes narrowed. Had it not been for the glint in her eyes, you would think she was serious.
“Goes MIA for months and now suddenly wants lunch. I think one trip to Macaluso’s on you, where I act like a brat, is fair considering,” The amusement carries in her voice as she fights laughter. “Seriously though, what the hell?”
“I have a lot to unpack. Lunch is on me, so girl, order a drink; I’m way ahead of you,” The half-empty glass of Moscato is your third, and Calliope’s taunting expression falls. She orders her drink, looking at you as you try to figure out where to start.
“Remember how you helped me get ready for the Screen Actors Guild Awards?” Nodding her head, you gave her a quick rundown of how you met Timothée. “The first time I canceled on our plans was because we got stuck at the movies. Paparazzi were posted outside; we were there for hours. At this point, I was keeping it friendly, but we just talked. The second time I canceled Axel and I got into this fight, it was stupid. You pushed back our plans, so I called Timothée. That night we kissed, and he only held me. It only snowballed from there; I didn’t realize how many times I canceled on you until you left me on opened. After that, I did not know what to say to you, and I got caught up in my affair. So I’m really sorry, and now we’ve been laying low because this idiot did whatever he did during an interview.”
Calliope’s head tilts to the side as her bottom lip falls. A dry chuckle left her before her puzzled expression took over. She nods a couple of times as if you are still explaining the majority of the year. Her drink arrives just on time, and she immediately asks for another before downing the white wine.
“Screw ignoring me. You’re fucking Timothée Chalamet, and you waited almost a year to tell me. What the hell?” Her voice gets progressively lower as she glances around the room for eavesdroppers.
“Calliope, seriously no jokes right now. I feel awful, but I don’t. I am lying and cheating on my husband. This isn’t me, but‒when I’m with him C, nothing else matters. I‒I won’t stop even though I know it’s wrong,” You come to a halt as the server asks if you are both ready to order. Calliope orders your favorite pasta and gets a burger for herself.
“So that interview he was talking about you. Have you seen it?” She asks, shaking her head. You watch as she pulls out her phone. On youtube, she skips through the interview; he looks just as he had in the bodega.
“Special lady in your life?” The host looks familiar, but you cannot pin their face to a name. Timothée chuckles, he leans forward slightly, and the smile on his lips is evident. “Uh oh, you’ve seen it here first, folks. He is smiling like a kid in a candy shop. There is no denying that blush.”
“No comment, man,” Biting his lower lip, his smile is relatively large, and Calliope explains no matter how many times asked he only smiled and said no comment on the subject. His starry-eyed smile is now engraved in your thoughts as well as all over the internet.
“As your best friend, I feel like it is my job, to be honest with you. Even if that honesty is not necessarily what you want to hear,” Calliope’s gaze on you holds no amusement or even a smile. Instead, her eyes are downcast as she feels sorry for you. “Remember Derek Coleman?”
“You mean that asshole who cheated on me and humiliated me our sophomore year?” Nodding her head, a frown creeps onto your features as you remember the theatrical time in high school. But then, you had been so upset and naive enough to believe the relationship between you and senior was love. You may have cared for him but it was only a game to him.
“He constantly demeaned you. Made you feel ugly, made you hate yourself. I think that was the lowest point I had ever seen you at in our entire lives together. Then, a month later, Axel is taking you on a date. He’s nice and sweet. I think Axel is who you needed for a time but not the rest of your life. Look at you, you’re the most adventurous person I know, but now you work and go home. This quiet life was never meant for you,” She reads you like a book, and it is almost as if she wrote it. The Screen Actors Guild Award had been the only exciting you had done in months. “Listen, it is your marriage and your life, so I could be wrong; only you know in your heart what you want. Just know you always have a place with me, depending on what you decide to do.”
Your phone vibrates, and you grab it quickly; Timothée’s name does not display as you hoped. Instead, it is a text from work. Can you drop by the office today for a quick meeting? You like the message, and the food arrives as you look back up. In between eating, Calliope talks about how busy her job has been; being a celebrity makeup artist comes with plenty of stories.
“Look at us. The two bitches. We swore I would be the messy one, and you would be a saint,” Calliope points out, teasing you are still a saint; she laughs obnoxiously, “Yeah, sure, tell that to the tabloids. The mystery woman who has Timothée Chalamet off the market. A lot of these idiots think it’s Lily-Rose Depp again.”
“You were one of those idiots, weren’t you?” You point out, and she chuckles into her burger. Lunch continues like this, and the bill is a bit high given the several drinks. But, before you can pay, Calliope reveals she already paid for everything. “Why?”
“Girl, you spilled major tea today. Paying for lunch is actually the least I could do,” Promising to not entirely fall off the face of the earth again, you both part ways. Ubering to the office, you chew on gum to mask the wine smell on your lips. On your desk, the questions you have prepared for different stars at the Dune premiere stare back at you. The multicolored jumble of questions appears to be a mess, but you have it organized in a very particular pattern. Your boss, Mr. Deges, is still in a meeting as you sit in your office swaying left and right in the swivel chair.
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The conversation ends with him sending crying laughing emojis and tapping on your office door. You put your phone down on your desk before opening the door. Eris smiles before letting you know Mr. Deges is ready for you. You bite back the urge to roll your eyes at her fake mannerisms. In Mr. Deges’s office, he asks you to have a seat.
“I am going to have Eris join you for the Dune premiere. If the two of you divide and conquer, I think we can get some coverage,” The forced smile on your features hides how you grit your teeth at the idea.
“Is that not rude? I just do not want them inviting me, and then remembering me as the journalist who brought someone not approved, you know?” Mr. Deges’s eyes light up at the realization. For a second, you believe you have escaped the confines of a night with Eris.
“This is why you are my star journalist. Shoot out an email before the end of the day about Eris attending. If not, she just won’t go; make sure to cc Eris and me into the email, okay?” Nodding your head, he apologizes for calling you in on your day off. You walk back to your office, muttering under your breath; this halts as Eris stands next to your desk in your office.
“Can I help you?” Then, raising an eyebrow, she recomposes herself as you await an explanation.
“I was just going to ask if I could use some of your notes for the Dune premiere?” Narrowing your eyes at her, you force a smile back onto your features. The burning in your cheeks nags at you.
“I’m a little busy right now, so how about another time? I really need to get going,” You explain. She apologizes before exiting your office, dumping your phone into your purse you lock up quickly. The uber ride home consists of you reading several articles covering Timothée’s secret relationship. You come home to an empty house, climbing into bed, you deep dive on Twitter of everyone’s theories about you. They analyze every tweet, and he’s written or liked dating back to a year. One person jokingly retweets a snippet of your interview with Timothée. Plot twist: watch it be whoever this girl is. The chemistry is so there in this interview. Like a schoolgirl, you fall asleep giddy as your mind is on everything except your husband. Besides the usual pattern of Axel never being home and work, the Dune premiere arrives fast.
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Calliope’s things litter your living room, from lights to several different bins of makeup. She even brought her own chair for you to sit in as she did your makeup. You wear a simple black dress and the gold earrings from Timothée. Calliope adds one of her dainty gold bracelets to the look, and Timothée’s chain taunts you. Despite your protests, Calliope adds extensions to your hair to create a dramatic semi-high ponytail.
“He is definitely going to have to work on his poker face. You look amazing,” Clapping her hands like an accomplished child, Axel texts you good luck. You invited him to accompany you, but as usual, he declined. Eris and your cameraman arrive at the exact time they said they would. Calliope urges you to go, promising to tackle the mess in your living room. The event is not for another two hours, but interviewers and media arrive early. A few others have also arrived early, getting a good spot toward the end of the red carpet; you shift in Calliope’s red bottoms. Your feet ache as you fail at trying to ease your nerves. It becomes a sea of flashing lights and yelling; Eris does the opening, narrating what stars are arriving. She takes the first interview with Oscar Isaac as you scan the red carpet. You stop as Zendaya slowly makes her away across the red carpet. Her beau Tom Holland on her arm as they pose for pictures, a tickle sits at the base of your stomach. Eris finishes up with Oscar as you take your spot in front of the camera.
“Hey,” She smiles, and you mimic her energy as you try to reel in the fangirling that monopolizes your senses.
“Hey, first, it is incredible to be here. You look fabulous as always,” Your voice surprisingly even as your smile shines bright as ever. Zendaya smiles, thanking you, and you also greet Tom. His oxblood tie matches her two-piece oxblood long-sleeve crop top and matching tapered skirt with a feathered fishtail.
“Fabulous. You look amazing. Guys, this is her premiere. The rest of us just exist in it,” Your face warms at the compliment, and the three of you share a laugh as you pull yourself together.
“The fans are excited; I’m excited. What has it been like working on this film?” The way you sink into professionalism blends well with the rays of your personality that leak into the conversation. It flows amazingly with Tom chiming into the conversation. You thank them both profusely as Eris takes on the following interview. At any other moment, you would be upset with not being able to do all the coverage. Instead, you pay little attention to the discussion as you watch Timothée step onto the red carpet. The blue suit compliments him nicely, and he has yet to look further up the carpet. People scream for his attention as the cameras flash nonstop. It only grows as Zendaya joins him in front of the Dune backdrop. When he reaches your area, you are already in front of the camera.
“So we meet again,” He teases, giggling; you mentally scold the childlike behavior. Despite his professional stance and inviting eyes, every little action feels like a bit of a challenge. Keep it together.
“Timothée Chalamet. You are the talk of the town. Between some upcoming projects, the premiere of Dune, and a secret lady? The fans want to know, so what are you willing to tell?” Narrowing your eyes in a taunting manner, a soft chuckle leaves him. Neither of you notice how the gap between you both grows smaller and smaller. It gets to a point where your hip grazes his side, and you both banter. “Final question, and I’ll free you from this interview. You are known for your social media silence, and the fans are dying to know why.”
“Social media can be a lot. We live in a time where people can throw hate and hide behind a keyboard. It’s easy to forget that we are people with feelings and I just try to protect my peace. I treat social media like a house party I didn’t want to go to. I dip in, I see some friends I came for, and then I dip out,” Nodding your head, you fail to notice how settled into each other’s side you both are. You thank him for the interview, and he leaves you with a lingering stare. Eris takes the following interview, and you both continue to switch out like this until it is time to go inside. Timothée sits across the room from you and the rest of the media. He spots you immediately and smirks to himself as you avoid his gaze. You focus on the movie as he focuses on you; the vibration of your phone steals your attention. You look beautiful. A warmth sets your skin ablaze as your lips widen. You catch his gaze from across the room, a warm smile accompanying his features. Refocusing on the film, you watch Timothée in your peripheral for the rest of the night. Even noting how Tom follows Timothée’s gaze over to you.
By the end of the night, you arrive home in a ball of energy; you want nothing more than to talk about one of the biggest nights of your career. The house is dark as you step inside. Axel is fast asleep in bed, you consider waking him up, but your shoulders fall in defeat. Removing the makeup, you silently climb into bed, forgetting to throw your phone on the charger. You could not explain how you still managed to wake up early. The drive to your Mother’s house is short as you pick her up. From the grocery store to the pharmacy to get her medicine, she has you all over Los Angeles. Finally, you both decide on a rustic-themed crepe restaurant for lunch.
“I’m so proud of you, honey. I know you did amazing,” She says, biting into her savory crepe. Your own contains several different fruits as you pair it with some water. Most of the lunch is your Mother rambling about stupid things such as her annoying neighbor and the sweet man down the road who has a crush on her.
“Mom, can I ask you something?” Nodding her head, she looked up at you with knit eyebrows. A rush shoots through your chest as your throat dries, “Why did you leave Dad?”
A deep sigh leaves her as her shoulders fall; the silence seemingly drowns out the other patrons in the restaurant. She smiles as if she remembers something before nodding her head, “I’ll always love your father, but we fell out of love. It happens; everything okay at home?”
“Oh—yeah,” You are sure she sees through the smile you force onto your features. But, even if she did, she does not press any further, and you hurry back to your mothers’ house to put the groceries away. Inside you busy yourself in the kitchen as your Mother tells your sister to come help. She asks for one more second as she sits in the living room.
“Um (Y/n)?” She calls out, rolling your eyes at her couch potato behavior; you ignore her. Fumbling through the cupboards to find where your mother kept her rice, “(Y/n) seriously!”
“What?”
“Your face is all over TV.”
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝒹𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 — 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉𝑒𝒹
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shurisneakers · 4 years ago
Text
harmless (x)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety, smidge of angst, mentions of violence
Word count: 7.8k (i went overboard. clearly.)
A/N: as well all know, i am a humanities student writing science geeks. if any of this sounds unrealistic or nonsensical, it’s because it is and i am honestly too exhausted to research data privacy and AI so here’s my take on how STEM should work i.e. the power of friendship  <3 major shoutout to @iamlittlesparkler for the idea for this chapter!
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
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Previous Part  || Series Masterlist
“As you know, we have a busy week ahead of us.” 
Coffees line the conference room table, pens click against the stacks of paper that settle in front of various agents and the smell of deodorant mixed with post-training sweat lingers at the back of the room like a disgusting witch concoction. 
“The annual parade is coming up and since there are a few security threats, SHIELD has been asked to step in. Therefore, all of you will be working security this week, possibly even at the parade.” Murmurs broke out in the room the minute this was said; mostly from first year field agents who were way too excited to have earpieces and fingerless gloves. 
Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t think much of it. They’ve dealt with threats before, most were declared empty the minute it got out that SHIELD or the Avengers were involved. It’s the 12th one that year. 
“That’s only if we don’t catch it first,” Steve continued. “Our first priority is precaution. The tech and analytics teams are working on it. However, if you see anything suspicious, bring it up with Director Fury. He’s going to be around to make sure we’re not overlooking anything. Do you have any questions?”
More whispers erupted at the mention of Fury’s name. Wait till they realise he lives up to his name when they accidentally manage to set him off just by existing incorrectly.
Bucky smirks at the thought.
“You can leave then.” Steve straightens up as chairs shuffle against the carpeted floor, over twenty people leaving the room.
“And remember, if you see an eagle today, be sure to stand there and thank it on behalf of Steve for its service. Freedom! Liberty! And whatever else,” Tony calls out from the corner of the room, earning a sigh from the captain. Others only snicker as they close the door behind them.
“Thanks.” Steve stares at him stone faced, bemused at the symbolism that had been bestowed upon him.
“Gotta keep the patriotism high.” The only ones that remain are the official team. Bucky thinks that he should have left with the other agents but apparently, it was rude and not a good show of team spirit.
“How serious is this threat anyway?” Clint has his head face down on the table, hand holding his to-go coffee cup so it doesn’t fall over. 
“We’re not sure.” Steve finally takes a seat on the chair in front of him. “It’s the biggest event we’ve had this year, wouldn’t put it past them.”
“If it’s those Welsh kids again, I’m gonna punch a hole through their house this time,” Clint warns, voice muffled through the furniture. 
“It’s not them, we checked.” Nat had her leg up on the armrest of Clint’s chair. “Tech team’s been working overtime to figure it out.”
“You have anything that could help?” Sam sends a nod towards Tony.
“I got a few things but it’d take a while to put it together.” 
“Didn’t you learn quantum physics in a night?” Wanda’s picking apart a cookie into pieces, chewing slowly.
“Thermodynamic astrophysics,” he corrects her. “Quantum science took lesser.”
Bucky scoffs slightly at the brag, eyes still trained on the table in front of him. Maybe if he made no noise, they would forget he’s here.
“Yeah, so this should be a piece’a cake.”  
“If your cake was somehow made out of a highly specified tracker that somehow doesn’t violate the data privacy of the entire world while analysing millions of terabytes worth of information, then yeah. A piece of it.”
“What he means to say-” Bruce interjects, “-is that we’re trying. It’s just taking longer than usual.”
“Well, the parade’s this Sunday. Think it’ll be done by then?”
“Hey FRIDAY,” Tony crosses his arm over his chest. “How many hours have I slept this week?”
“Three and a half, boss.”
“How much more will I be getting?”
“From previous experience, about six.”
“Yeah, we can get it done.” Tony looks back at Steve. 
“Ask someone on the tech team to help you out.” Everyone was well aware of Tony’s bad coping mechanisms and how futile it was to get him to change his mind about it, but they still tried.
“They’re too busy.” Bruce pressed his lips into a straight line. 
Bucky tunes out at this point. If he could help, he would have reluctantly chimed in by now, but he couldn’t. 
“So what now?” Sam rips Clint’s doughnut into two, keeping one half for himself while leaving the other to the latter who still hadn’t lifted his head up from the table.
“I actually asked Fury if I could call in an external to come help,” Tony pipes up. 
“And he agreed?” Nat raised an eyebrow.
“After he realised I wasn’t going to leave his office until he said yes.” He pulled out his phone, rapidly typing out a message before hitting send. “It didn’t take too long.”
“Do we know this person?” Steve asks a little suspiciously.
“Well-” Bruce sneaks a glance at the broody man on the chair, “-kinda.”
Everyone can tell Bucky isn’t paying attention by the way he’s glaring holes into the plant. He doesn’t mean to, it just so happens that it looks like he wants to kill it. Nobody tends to bother him during meetings, knowing well and fully that he did not care.
“You’re about to.” Tony jumps up, making his way to the door to pull it open.
Bucky perks up. An open door means they can leave, right? He can go watch The Bachelor? He’s not sure what everyone was talking about, but if the meeting was over he could go ask Wanda who was always kind enough to help.
“Our newest recruit,” the billionaire announces, quickly adding the next part, “on a trial basis.” 
Bucky looks at the door.
His jaw drops open.
“No,” he says loudly, posture immediately stiff as a plank. 
“Hello to you too, Barnes.” You roll your eyes before sending a small wave to everyone else. “Hey everyone.”
“What are you doing here?” He looks like he’s seething. 
“Don’t tell me you forgot about our date.” You cross your arms over your chest in defiance. “You told me 3 o’clock, you player.”
“What is she doing here?” He whips to Steve for an answer.
“Hey Y/N,” Sam greets with a smile on his face before Steve can reply.
“Sam Wilson, good to see you again.” You grin.
“Right back at ya, sugar.” 
Wanda looks amused, Clint finally lifts his head off the table at the mention of your name while Nat takes her feet off his armrest, and Steve’s body relaxes when he realises what’s going on. 
“Okay.” Tony claps his hand. Bucky shoots daggers at him. “As you all know, this is Y/N. She’s going to working with us this week.”
“This is ridi- how did you even find out about her?”
“Aside from the fact that she’s all you talk about?” Clint snorts. Bucky shifts his glare to him. It was bullshit and an exaggeration and Clint was going to get a shoe up his ass very soon.
Your grin only grows bigger.
“We saw one of the repulsors she made some time ago,” Bruce answers his question like the sane person that he is. “Tony’s had her in mind for a while.”
“Repulsors? How on ear-” Bucky connects two and two together before turning to Sam. “You. You got her this job.”
“Sam’s my best wingman.” You send him a small heart made from your hands. Whether the pun was intentional or not, no one would know.
“Don’t look at me, I had nothing to do with this idea.” Sam raised his hands to brush off the blame.
“You’re a villain,” he points out loudly.
“I’m a saint.” You raise your hand to your heart in mock offence. “I have done nothing wrong in my life, ever.”
“Listen, Robocop,” Tony interrupts your conversation, bringing the attention back to him, “I cleared it with Fury. He’s the boss here.”
“Fury doesn’t know-”
“What don’t I know?” The atmosphere of the room changes the minute he saunters in. 
With an eyepatch on his face, gaze sharp and a long black coat, Nick Fury puts Bucky’s dark outfits to shame. Not like he was competing. 
Bucky doesn’t continue his sentence. Nick’s imposing presence loomed at the doorway, putting a stop to the ridiculous arguments that were beginning to boil. Instead, he looks at you, only to find your attention trained on the man of the hour.
“Nicholas,” you half cheer from where you had shifted to in the middle of all the commotion. 
Nicholas?
Nicholas?
No one had ever called him Nicholas. 
“Y/L/N,” Nick addresses in return. “Been a while.”
“You haven’t come to the lair in months, Nick.” You pout at him. “I even sent you an invite.”
Bucky furrows his eyebrows. Since when are you on such good terms with Fury? Since when was anyone on good terms with Fury?
“It must have gotten lost in the mail,” he fires back, “Or maybe it’s because I just happen to be the busiest man in the damn country. Take your pick.”
You roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath, but the good natured smile on your face shows that you didn’t take any of his passive- or straight up- aggressiveness to heart. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting your little tea time.” He looks around the rest of the room with an edge in his voice. “Don’t you all have work to do?”
“We do,” Tony interrupts, holding up his hand before pointing to Bruce and you. “Everyone else just sorta sits around and looks pretty.”
“I’m gonna go talk to the organisers, see what spots are most vulnerable.” Steve stands up. “You coming?”
“Yep,” Sam responds, flicking Clint’s shoulder to drag him along. “Come on, man. When was the last time you took a shower?”
“I’ll go see what the kids are up to in training. They’re probably flying off the handle right now.” Natasha brushes off crumbs from her lap. “Barnes, you in?”
Bucky silently shakes his head, eyes focused on you as you introduce yourself to every Avenger who walks out of the room, sharing a small fist bump with Sam.
“I’ll do it,” Wanda volunteers instead, finally leaving behind only the Science Bros, you and Bucky in the room with Fury. 
“I’ll give you a tour of the lab.” Tony beckons and you nod, following him. “New eyepatch, Fury? Prada, I assume?”
“Stark,” Nick says curtly. 
Bucky stares after you, arms still folded across his chest.
“Any problem, Sergeant?” 
Other than the fact that his arch nemesis was now working with his friends, no, not really. But that did seem like a pretty big one.
“No,” Bucky mumbles instead, getting up from his place finally.
Apparently, no one else was worried about the possibly lethal combination of you and Stark, even with Banner there to dilute it. 
Fine.
Guess he just has to observe you the whole week.
Well, half a week. It was Wednesday. 
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He observes inconspicuously over the rim of his coffee cup. He has a newspaper spread in front of him at Bruce’s table. 
It’s not suspicious. He’s been there multiple times to sit in silence with the scientist who occasionally tinkers with something while engaging Bucky in tidbits of conversation. He finds it calming, refreshing even
Today he has an agenda. Everyone knows about it too. 
“You know he’s staring at you, right?” Bruce looks up briefly from the giant blueprint laid in front of the group. 
Tony had been dragged away to get a proper meal into him after he stayed up for 36 hours straight with caffeine keeping his system running. 
“He has a tendency to do that.” You’re looking over the plan the three of you had come up with the day before. There were certain changes to be made in terms of efficiency. “Turns out if you annoy him, he stares harder.”
“We’ve heard about the inventions. Inators, he calls them?”
“Yeah,” you point out something on the sheet, drawing a circle around it to come back to later, “only good things I hope?”
“He doesn’t really talk much.” Bruce writes down a small comment against your arrow mark. “But if he hated them, he’d have a lot to say. So I’d take it as a compliment.”
“Would it annoy him if I did?”
“Probably.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment, then. Pass me the ruler?” You draw a line connecting two pieces. 
Bucky’s ability to lip read is excellent but he refuses to do it, for privacy purposes. He knew that SHIELD had pulled some strings and had another teacher substituting for your classes the whole week since your other option was to come only after school hours. Anything else about this plan was murky.
“You gonna sit there all day?” Tony looks over his shoulder, following his line of sight.
“I’ve done it before.” He continues to look over the newspaper at you with your finger extended at something on the blueprint as you explained something to Bruce.
“You look like- how do I say this nicely.” He wasn’t going to. “A fuckin’ stalker.”
“I’m supposed to stop her from doing anything evil.”
“Sure.” Tony snorts. “That’s what this is. Should I get you a fedora and sunglasses while we’re at it?”
Of course Stark wouldn’t care; he brought you into this project. It was pretty much impossible to get him to agree with Bucky.
Bucky just narrows his eyes and continues his observation. 
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The menu of the cafeteria keeps changing. They like to keep things interesting.
Every time they do, Bucky spends too long staring at the menu, trying to figure out what exactly is familiar enough to order. Vietnamese week had him eating pho the entire duration it stayed.
“You plannin’ on eating anytime this century, sarge?” He recognises your voice immediately. 
He knows what time your break is and he knows that you generally eat lunch in the cafeteria with the science team. Generally, the three of you pour over solutions and debate points all through the meal, and he spends the time getting acquainted with his new, lowkey Instagram account. 
He blocks the Bucky Barnes hashtag the minute he gets an account again. God save his eyes from people asking him to break their back like a glow-stick. However, one afternoon of accidentally watching three cat videos has led to his entire explore page being taken over by them and he’s been trying for three days to get it to stop. 
“Just trying to-” he tilts his head. “-understand what I’m reading.”
“Not a big fan of Greek food?” You join him in looking at the menu. 
“Never really had the chance to try.” Tony and Bruce don’t seem to be in the room, probably pushing aside their meal to work on it as they’ve often done.
“Ah.” You already had your order in mind but you wait there. 
Two minutes later he’s still staring at the menu. He can feel your presence next to him, unmoving. It unnerves him.
“Why are you still standing here?” He cranes his neck to look at you.
“I’m just seeing how long it takes for you to order.” You shrug. “So far it’s been five minutes and forty six seconds. Forty eight now.”
“Go away.” The concept of someone standing beside him, waiting for him to do something reminded him far too much of him trying to bag his stuff at the grocery counter rapidly while other customers waited to pay. 
“Six minutes and thirty seconds. This is just sad now.”
“Your face is sad.” It was pathetic that he had now resorted to this.
It earned a laugh from you. 
As entertaining as it was to be able to get on his nerves by just standing silently next to him, you finally ask, “Do you want a recommendation?” 
He eyes you wearily. “You gonna give me food poisoning?” 
“Not today, no.” You shake your head slightly. “Maybe tomorrow.”
He stares a little longer. You remain unshaken in your offer.
“Fine.” He sighs, stepping aside. 
You tell him that since it’s his first time, you’d get him something basic. He thought it made sense. 
He argued with you when you ended up paying for the both of you, only shutting up when you told him he’s holding up the line and that he could pay you back later. It doesn’t stop his incessant mumble complaining. 
He ends up with gyros at his table and you sitting opposite him with your meal. He asks where the Science Bros are. You tell him it’s Science Hoes now, as christened by Tony, and that they’re in the lab.
“So?” You look at him eagerly.
“What?”
“How is it?” you urge, nodding at him.
He takes a cautious bite, really taking his time with it to annoy your impatient ass. 
“Well?” You raise your eyebrow at him.
“It’s-” he pauses, looking down at his food. “-good.”
“Aha.” You lean back victoriously. “Knew it.”
He likes it. He also knows that this is probably going to be the only thing he orders for the next week unless you had planned otherwise. 
“You’re not eating?” He gestures to your untouched tray.
“Taking it up to the lab. Got a few things to work on and we’re already behind.” You gather up your stuff and get up.
“Uh-” he pauses from practically inhaling the entire thing. He was already halfway done with it. “-thanks.”
“No problem. You wink at him. “Try figuring out what’s wrong with it.” 
You turn on your heel to leave, taking your order with you. He can see your shoulders bobbing with silent laughter. 
He stares down at his plate, swallowing slowly. 
He pokes at it with a fork, lifting up the leftovers to check if there’s anything underneath. Nothing. 
He checks to see if his limbs are still intact or his face was a different colour. Nope.
His stomach twists in worry about what’s going to happen. He still has a bit left but he pushes the tray aside.
The rest of the day he spends supervising you has you occasionally catching his eye, only to laugh. It only freaks him out more.
It takes eight hours of waiting and self induced tests later to realise there was nothing wrong with it. You were just playing with him.
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He’s surprised to find you in the rec room when he strolls in with Sam, given that you haven’t taken a break all day.
You don’t share the same surprise... almost like you expected him.
“How long have you been waiting for me?” he immediately asks.
"I wasn’t here for you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Heard that Wilson was makin’ an appearance here soon so I stopped by to get a good look at him."
"Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Sam laughs, inserting a dollar into the machine and punching in the code for what he wanted.
"Gladly. Strike a pose, would you?" You grin, raising your phone.
“Maybe when I’m not covered in sweat.” Sam counter offers and you accept with a thumbs up.
“You going to the parade, Sam?” You toy with the can in your hands.
“I’ll be working security, so probably.”
“Sarge?” You take a swig of your drink.
“Huh?” He snaps back into the conversation, putting a stop to the mental list of reasons he was making of why you could be here at the same time as him. He knew your schedule, it wouldn’t be very hard for you to figure out his.
“You coming to the parade on Sunday?” you ask again.
“I guess.”
You wince.
“What?” he asks instantly, curiosity making him a lot sloppier than usual.
“It’s just- you wear so much black.” You gesture to his current getup to prove your point. ”I feel like all the bright colours would vaporise you if you looked at them.”
He doesn’t look amused.
“You know, like Prince Philip.”
“I think I’ll be fine.” He gives you a sarcastic smile.
“You comin’ Buck?” Sam laughs, unwrapping the bar he bought from the machine.
“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Bucky says offhandedly, still glaring at you innocently drinking your soda.
Sam chews absentmindedly on his protein bar as he walks out, amused at the situation Bucky pulled himself into.
“What’d you do?” Bucky asks, studying your body language.
“I bought a soda.” You lift the can to prove your point. “And now I’m drinking it.”
“Why are you waiting for me?”
“I thought I’d return the favour,” you point out. “I’m supervising you.”
“Don’t.” He walks to the vending machine, pulling out his wallet for some loose change. There was a Snickers bar he had been craving since morning that he bought every alternate day. Small joys.
“Why? I have the time.” You take a sip, setting it down with a clang.
“You’re only here for this week.” Bucky counted the coins he had. He’d use a dollar but he was trying to get rid of the jingling in his pocket that made him sound like a fucking clown when he walked.
“Actually,” you begin innocuously, “Tony offered me a full-time position.”
Bucky’s movements stop, hunched over the money in his palm.
“What?”
“Yeah.” You nod seriously. “A full nine-to-five as a researcher here.”
“And you’re taking it.” He shakes himself out of the minor shock to assess the damage.
“I don’t know. I got a lot of things to consider.” The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as you stand up. “But maybe you should get used to seeing me a lot more around here.”
He punches in the code for his Snickers. The row whirs forward slowly.
“See you at the lab.” He hears you discard the empty can in the trash before exiting.
He waits patiently for his bar to drop while his mind internally screams about the consequences of having you work here. You wouldn’t be evil anymore. Unless you were here to steal secrets from the Tower. On the pro side, his weekend would be free again. On the con side, his weekend would be free again.
His bar stops right at the edge of the row. He waits for it to fall over. It doesn’t.
He shakes the machine, suppressing the primal urge to beat the shit out of it when the damn bar refuses to fall.
He punches in a few random buttons hoping that at least it would give his money back.
The little monitor instead flashes a new message across the screen.
‘Have a good day, sarge <3’
Motherfucker.
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Captain America looks less daunting up close, you realise. But he is still a very large man with very large shoulders. You know at least four people who would like to scale him like a tree, not that you’d ever tell him.
“Hey, Y/N.” He sends you a small smile when you walk into the room for a mid-week update. A clipboard in your hand, report attached and a few stationery items in case some points needed to be noted done, you look professional and ready.
“Afternoon, Captain.” Tony saves a seat for you and Bruce beside him since you’re on the same project. You almost miss the fact that Bucky isn’t in the room.
He walks in a few minutes late; tall, dark and brooding, immediately bringing the excitement in the room down by 40% by just existing. 
Bucky surveys the room before catching your eye. He picks up his chair with ease and drags it over to where you are, sitting right beside you, ignoring the small cry of protest from an agent whose view he now obstructed. Everyone else just silently shifted over.
“Clingy much?” you whisper at him, eyes still trained on Steve who had waited till everyone was seated to continue.
“I’m supposed t’be keeping an eye on you,” he rebuffs in a hush.
“Well, you’re late. What if I went rogue, huh?”
“Therapy ran overtime,” he mumbles.
“Oh.” You blink. “How was it?”
“Same old.”
“You good?”
He refrains from answering when Steve starts addressing the room but yes, he was fine. He sends you a nod to confirm. 
“This is just a usual checking in. We’ve received all your reports, but just to keep everyone on the same page-”
Bucky logs out mentally. He knows what his job is, he’ll probably lead a division of the security team or join the mission to neutralise the threat in case they find it first. Either way, he’ll figure it out without having to listen to an intern nervously stammer their way through their team’s report. 
On the other hand, you’re not listening either. You were until you saw Bucky’s eyes glaze over while glowering at the window, assuming that he had stopped paying attention when his gaze doesn’t shift.
You should be listening. You’re new here and you should know what’s going on because any bits of detail are crucial to the working of your system. 
Instead, you rip out a sticky note and discreetly place it on the back of Bucky’s metal arm. He doesn’t notice.
You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling. More post-its from your pile of stationery make their way onto the vibranium, shades of pink, purple, green and yellow decorating his arm like a bulletin board. 
You’re about to contemplate sticking one on his shoulder blade when he whips around to look at you. You freeze, hand in the air with a sticky note. He looks down at his arm, a scoff escaping him in disbelief. 
“Are you serious?” He twists his arm to check the extent of how far you’ve gone. “What are you, six?”
“How’d it take you so long to notice?” You watch as he tugs them off one by one, counting to see how many you had managed to get on there.
“It’s impossible not to zone out in these shitty meetings,” he mumbles, pulling off the last one, crumpling all of them into a ball to throw at you. You skilfully avoid them. 
“Don’t you feel pressure or heat or anything here?” You poke at his metal arm.
“No.” He clenches and releases the fist. “It can block bullets though.”
You snort. “Bet that’s a popular line in bed.”
He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it helps that I can’t feel anything. Sometimes,” he adds the last part as an afterthought. 
“Like when you’re blocking bullets.”
“Especially then.” He nods. 
“Would you ever want to?” you ask casually. “Like if you got the choice, would you prefer having feeling in that arm?”
“I don’t know.” He’s thought about it, but it doesn’t seem feasible in his line of work. He’d like it, though, to feel sand slipping through his fingers and the comforter under his palm. “Maybe when I’m retired.”
“Aren’t you well past that age?”
“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “And pay attention. You’re next.”
“So you are listening.” True to his word, Steve asks about what’s going on with your team. “Traitor.” 
Tony shoots off about how you only had to test it out on a small batch first to see if you could acquire the targeted data without compromising anything else. You chime in about a few specifics, and Bruce more or less just confirms what you both are saying, only stopping to let them know that you’d be finished in a day or two.
Steve nods, moving on to the next committee.
“Did I get a good grade?” you whisper when you lean back again.
“B minus at best.” 
“Fuck you, dude. I was great,” you protested. “It’s definitely worth a gold sticker.”
Someone shushes you sharply. You apologise quietly, whacking Bucky’s metal arm when you see a dumb smirk on his face. 
He narrows his eyes at you. 
You try sticking another post-it on him.
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You’re only here for a week. That’s what he’s been told. Over six times, actually, after which he’s been told to go away the next time he asked.
No one’s brought up the job offer so he asks Tony if it was true and all he gets is a dismissive ‘yeah, whatever’. Besides, you haven’t told him if you accepted or denied it yet so isn’t sure if this entire thing is set in stone, per se.
So then why do you have a giant box of your belongings that you’re lugging around the lab, looking to set down?
And why does Tony allow you a table right in the centre of the lab for everyone to see as soon as they walk in?
There are a gazillion trinkets, picture frames and obnoxiously bright stationery that stands out against the dull minimalism of the lab.
“Every single one of these is a fire hazard,” he reports, standing over your desk.
You give him a side glance before reaching over to the side of your desk, pulling up a fire extinguisher and setting it on the table in front of him. “I came prepared, bitch boy.”
He doesn’t dignify that with a response. He chooses to look at what exactly you’ve brought with you because it’s a lot.
There are small cards with ‘thank you!’ sprawled on them in uneven lettering, bits and pieces of paper with small cartoons on them, little clay models and other miniature trophies with ‘you’re the best!’ under it.
“Your students gave you these?” He can’t remember the last time he gave his teacher anything other than a headache.
“Sometimes they learn or communicate better when they have something to keep their hands busy.” There’s a certain fondness in your voice that he isn’t used to hearing. “I end up with a lot of doodles and craft.”
“’s nice of them.” He can tell that this means a lot to you. He hasn’t seen it before.
He thinks the little decorations are adorable and maybe he’d keep another fire extinguisher on hand, just in case. 
Until you start pulling out a set of framed photos and his smile drops.
Several collages of Bucky in flower crowns, him with terribly edited backgrounds of beaches and mountains, a photo of him laughing with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ next to it in an italicised font.
“What the fuck,” he states, grabbing one of them.
You stifle a laugh, pulling out several more to place along your table.
“Where did you fucking get these?” He starts pulling them off the table one by one.
“I don’t think you know how much the internet is obsessed with you.” You set an especially large one of him in a Hello Kitty bowtie right in the centre. He doesn’t miss the star shaped frame you chose for this.
“What is wrong with you?” He swipes that up immediately, looking for a place to discard, possibly burn these pictures. “Why do you even have these?”
“It’s imperative that people know we’re friends.” You bite your lip, bringing out the last thing to annoy him.
“What is that?” A teddy bear with a blue jacket and a grey felt arm stared into his soul.
“A Bucky bear.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh. “Limited edition.”
He snatches it along with the fifteen other picture frames, thinly veiled distress and mostly disgust on his face.
“I hate you.”
“But I love you.” You lift the small heart shaped locket you hung on one of the pictures of your class.
You use both your hands to click it open for him, watching his face morph into one of disbelief.
Bucky my beloved, it read on the right with a small picture of him on the left looking intensely disgruntled. He doesn’t bother asking where you found that specific picture of him outside a Burger King at 3am.
He doesn’t even make an effort to take it away this time. He knows that you’ll simply bring up more and more until you drove him crazy.
“You still have to see the Avengers calendar.” You reach for the inside. “I changed all the pictures to you, it looks great-”
He turns around and leaves before you get a chance to flip open the pages.
He wanders around, looking for the best disposal area he can find. He knows there’s a giant fireplace in the common room in the Tower, and for that, he’d have to go up a couple of floors.
He steps into the elevator, chin pressing down on the several picture frames in his hands to prevent them from falling over.
No one sees him carrying a couple of fan edited pictures and merchandise of him. Which was good.
Unfortunately, the doors ding open on the next floor and his best friend steps on with possibly the worst timing ever.
“Buck?” Steve sounds confused. He should be, considering the sight.
Bucky shimmies slightly to get a better grip on his belongings. “Steven.”
Steve glances at what he’s holding.
“Is this,” Steve pauses, trying to frame his words correctly to sound as supportive as possible, “a therapy thing?”
“No.”
Steve waits for a further explanation.
“It’s Y/N’s,” he elucidates. Steve’s eyebrows furrow.
“Why are there so many pictures of you?” He looks at the content in his hands a little closer. “And a bear.”
“She’s evil. And I hate her.”
“Alright.” It doesn’t answer his question but his friend looks irked enough.
The elevator dings to the common room floor.
Bucky turns on his heel to head toward the place to set all the pictures on fire. He saves the picture frames to give back to you though, he’s sure those cost money. But he makes sure every last square inch of the picture with several hearts around his portrait burns to ash.
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Bucky knows that by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, the three of you would have been working for thirty hours straight, scrambling to get the last minute details done.
You’re still at it but he can tell through the adrenaline of the upcoming deadline that you’re exhausted. 
Now he’s grouchy but he’s not an asshole. He’s already done two coffee runs for the team and brought you food when you didn’t show up for lunch. He mumbles something and dismisses it when you call out a ‘thank you’ his way. He considers it a debt repaid for the gyros.
He’s still keeping an eye on you but along with an emergency box of doughnuts for any sugar rushes that may be needed and bottles of water that he occasionally leaves at the corner of the table for you three to subconsciously keep yourself hydrated. 
“Are you sure we checked it?”
“Yes.” Bruce nods.
“Double checked it?”
“Yes.”
“Triple checked it.”
“Yes.” 
You look satisfied enough to move on to the next item. “Pass me the welding torch for a second.”
Bucky has a book in front of him that he hasn’t moved beyond the second page of. He’s more interested in seeing who collapses from burnout first. He has the infirmary on speed dial. 
After another hour or so Tony holds up a silver tablet, roughly the same size as a smartphone, examining it from all sides.
“That’s it,” he states. “The final product.”
You exhale lightly.
“We should name it.” You have your hands on your hips, looking down at it in wonder. Maybe the zero hours of sleep was finally kicking in because you couldn’t believe you were finally done. 
“You got any suggestions?” Tony asks. 
To be frank, no, you didn’t.
“No.”
“Okay, we’ll do that later.” Tony sets it down, not sounding too disappointed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell the team to get down here, please.”
“Yes, boss.”
Bucky jumps off his chair to join you in the lab, leaving the book behind. 
It only takes a few moments for the others to join. Fury and Steve walk in together, already engaged in conversation.
“Greetings.” You clap your hands together. “We did it. We think.”
“We think?” Nick raises an eyebrow.
“We know,” Bruce clarifies quickly, stepping in. “We’re positive it works. We tested it out.”
Tony pulls up the holograph of F.R.I.D.AY’s system, sliding the tablet to the middle of the table.
“Is it secured under FRIDAY’s core?”
“Locked and loaded.” Tony hits the table lightly to signify that it was safe.
“I think we’re ready,” Bruce confirms.
“We better be, or else half the country is suddenly going to lose their internet connection,” you say under your breath.
“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together.
“Nothing,” you beamed, “Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., run sequence, global parameter.”
“Running sequence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. parrots. 
There was no going back now. 
From what Bucky can see, Tony looks fairly confident but you have your bottom lip caged between your teeth, chewing on it nervously. 
There are several hundreds of photographs popping up and disappearing within a minute. Everything looks like it’s going according to plan.
The giant holograph of the AI dims. Your face drops when F.R.I.D.A.Y. seems to sputter to a halt. 
No one breathes.
In the midst of the tension, Clint mutters if they should play some background music. It’s followed by a swift ‘ow’ when Natasha flicks him in the shoulder.
You could hear a pin drop.
It suddenly picks back up again, running faster than the last time and the sigh everyone collectively heaves is almost comical.
It runs for a few seconds more before a list of names suddenly pop up accompanied by a series of photographs and geo locations.
“Sequence complete. Six names detected, zero encroachment on public or private databases,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. broadcasted. “Location determined to be Holland. Exact coordinates are computed into the quinjet.”
You let out a small cheer, looping your arm around Bruce, squeezing him in a half hug. He has a smile on his face, dropping his head as he laughs slightly. 
“How dangerous are they?” Tony, however, continues to ask.
“A few prior convictions and a series of similar threats. Danger level determined to be at approximately five out of ten.” 
“That’s not bad,” Steve commented. “Looks like we don’t need the full team there.”
“Romanoff, Barton, Wilson, Rogers can go ahead and take care of that,” Nick finally spoke up. “Everyone else is working security tomorrow, just in case anyone else decides that terrorism is on their fuckin’ to-do list for the day.”
“Buck, assemble a team and go over strategy for tomorrow,” Steve adds on. “Everyone else go suit up, wheels up in thirty minutes.” 
“Fuckin’ Holland,” Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Of all the places.” 
“What do you have against Holland?” Nat asks as they leave together.
“Just don’t like ‘em.” Their voices grow faint the further they get.
“Hey.” A small greeting from behind you has you turning around.
Wanda stands in front of you and you have to ignore the fact that the most powerful being on Earth is talking to you. 
“Hey,” you say back.
“I just wanted to say congratulations. You did a great job.” Bits and pieces of her accent poked out. She didn’t seem like she was putting in the effort to cover it up as opposed to the press interviews you had heard a few years ago. 
“Thank you.” You smile. “T’was a team effort.”
“Well, we owe you one anyway,” Steve joins the conversation, leaving aside Tony who was still talking to Bruce.
“I wish I was humble enough to turn it down but I’m not.” You laugh. “It’s nice to have an arsenal of superheroes at my disposal.”
Steve looks like he’s going to respond but his attention is drawn towards F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s announcement that the quinjet was ready to go. He shoots you an apologetic look but you sign for him to go on, you’d meet with him later.
You watch as he claps Tony on the back, telling him to go get some sleep and something with more nutritional value than a pizza pocket in him, nodding at Bruce before taking leave. 
“Y/L/N,” Nick stands beside you, looking ahead at the conversations being had as Steve tugs Clint along with him.
“Nicky,” you tease.
“I know at least seven underground prisons I can put you in if anyone hears you calling me that,” he says stoically. 
“We all know you won’t get rid of me.” You shake your head. “Who’s gonna send you a Christmas card then, huh?”
He simply shakes his head, jutting his hand out and offering a handshake. “Not sure anyone here could handle another day of a highly caffeinated, sleep-deprived Stark.”
“Just say ‘thanks’, Nick, geez.” You roll your eyes. 
Bucky watches the entire interaction unfurl; only the body language, not employing the lip-reading ability. 
“You’re welcome.” You let go of his hand, a devilish look on your face. “You know what I want in return.”
Nick gives you a long, hard stare that could probably melt through Steve’s shield before turning around to leave. 
But Bucky doesn’t miss the subtle high-five he gives you while walking out, unbeknownst to anyone else, bringing the biggest grin to your face.
He makes it a point to ask you what the fuck kind of leverage you have over the man for him to play favourites with you. 
You finally collapse at your desk, letting out a loud exhale. You clench your eyes shut, your body finally melting into your chair. You look exhausted.
He’s not sure how to help. You don’t seem like you have the energy to tell him.
Bucky leaves a doughnut and water bottle on the table in front of you before shuffling out of the room quietly. 
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He’s certain that he’s spent far too long in Bruce’s lab this week. He liked the man as much as the next guy, but he probably wouldn’t come down there for the foreseeable future. 
You’re at your assigned desk, reading light illuminating the space. Thankfully you’ve cleared up most of your stuff from the table, leaving no more liabilities to fall over in case he walked into the desk. 
“So you’re done for the week.” His voice surprises you. You were scrolling through your phone, slightly hunched over.
“It appears so.” You put your phone down, swivelling the chair to look at him. 
“How’d it go?” He leans against your table, making sure he isn’t using his full weight.
“Well, I slept for fifteen hours straight, so...” you leave him to connect the dots. He’s done the same several times.
“You’re probably gonna need more,” he says, mostly from his own experience, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Actually-” you reach beside your table and lug your gigantic box of belongings onto the table with a loud thud, “-you won’t.”
He looks at the box that was nearly overflowing with its contents, the majority of the space being taken up by empty picture frames. “I thought you said Tony offered you a job.” 
“He did,” you confirm. “I didn’t accept.”
“Why?” He watches you shift through a few things, adjusting it so that it wouldn’t fall over.
“This whole thing- it’s cool and all, but it’s not what I want to do.” You shrug. “I like teaching. I miss my class.”
He gaze lands on one of the thank you notes sticking out from the corner of the box. “Ah.”
“Back to school from tomorrow.”
“And evil on the weekends?” he prods, dropping a pen into the heap of stationery. 
“Obviously.” You give him a lopsided smile. “Where else am I gonna use all this brilliance?”
You point to your head. He lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh.
“Speaking of-” You look like you just remembered something.  
You rummage through your backpack and pull out a small container, handing it to him.
“What’s this?” He turns it over, looking for any hidden clues. “Are you proposing again, because I’ve said no-”
“I’m not proposing,” you interrupt, “yet.”
He gives you a deadpan look.
“Open it,” you urge, and he complies.
Two small squares sit side-by-side. They’re slick black, barely bigger than the face of a dice.
“You put one of them here-” You tap on his bicep “-and the other here.” You tap his shoulder, a few inches below his clavicle.
“What does it do?” He thinks it’s like Nat’s little taser things, a nifty little tool that he could use on missions.
“It, uh-” you hesitate “-it allows you to feel sensation in your metal arm. Heat, pressure, texture.”
His breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, it just does.
“You said that sometimes you’re glad you couldn’t because of the bullets and stuff. They’re detachable, so just take them off when you go on missions and wherever it is you Spandex ambassadors go.” You scoff slightly. 
He can’t remember the last time he felt something soft with that arm or used it for something that wasn’t directly related to his job.  
“I’m not messing with what the Wakandans gave you. It’s the most advanced piece of tech out there.” You shrug. “But if you ever want to feel it when someone attaches sticky notes to your arm, this could work. Just thought it’d be nice to have an option.”
He can’t decipher what he’s feeling right now. He looks up at you, only to catch you eyeing him cautiously, assessing his reaction. When you notice he’s looking at you, a nervous smile makes its way onto your face. 
His stomach does a flip. 
“Thank you,” he says quietly. 
“Don’t mention it.” You sound a little relieved, picking up the box that he’s pretty sure weighed a ton what with all his memorabilia in it. “See you next week.”
He doesn’t know how to explain what it means to him. 
Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing later?”
“Nothing.” You pause. “Why?”
“Are you gonna watch the parade?” 
“Yeah, probably.” You shift your weight to your other leg to compensate for the box.
“Want some company?”
“Aren’t you heading a security division?” You have to consciously hide the bewilderment from your voice. 
“Yeah. The place I’m stationed just so happens to have a good look into the street,” he explains, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. “Can’t really promise that I’ll be paying attention to it or that I’d even be there the whole time but for the most part...” he trails off. 
“Uh-” You force yourself to shove aside your surprise at his determination, “yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”
He nods. “Okay. See you there.” 
“See you,” you murmur as you walk to the elevator. 
He opens the tiny container to look at the small chips. They’re still there, silently like they don’t change his world just by existing. 
Gosh.
Next part
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katyasrussianaccent · 4 years ago
Text
you're so golden (corpse x reader)
Summary: You're a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?
Author's Note: Don't hate me! This was gonna be a cute chapter but then I decided against that. Credit to @moontwinkles for the spilling scene idea. Let me know what you think!
Masterlist
The sound of your alarm wakes you from your slumber with a suddenness. Bleary-eyed, you roll over to turn it off, letting out a small sigh as your body and brain start to awaken. You’re going to meet Corpse. You’re going to meet Corpse. It bares repeating in your mind; the prospect still not quite registering.
You haven’t had the greatest sleep, your mind racing most of the night; skittish little thoughts that had you tapping your toes on the mattress in agitation as you struggled to turn them off. Sunlight streams through the cracks in your blinds, a warm glow painted in stripes on your wall. It was going to be a good day, tiredness be damned.
You get up, stretching your arms out as wide as possible and relishing in the relief as your muscles unclench themselves. There’s a little spring in your step as you walk to the bathroom, to wash your face and brush your teeth. You aren’t nervous as you pick out your favourite outfit, instead you feel excited. It’s funny how little scraps of fabric and thread can impact your mood so much, but you smile at your reflection, the feeling of confidence is nice, albeit rare.
The rumbling in your stomach signals that you need to eat something before you leave. Nothing too fancy, just some toast and a glass of juice. You can feel the nerves start to grow a little, the food sits heavy on your tongue, forcing you to swallow it. You grab your phone, scrolling as you chew. You go onto Corpse’s twitter, smiling at the picture he’s posted.
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Out of curiosity, you go onto his likes. You always find his likes interesting; the random things he’s added gives you more of an insight to his thoughts and feelings. You chew the inside of your cheek as you scroll down past girls with perfect skin and bodies; your previous confidence now feels a little misplaced.
Deciding against letting it ruin your mood, you close the tab and go to grab your bag before locking your door and heading to your car. You text Rae to let her know you’re leaving and she replies almost immediately to wish you luck. Sitting in front of the steering wheel, you exhale as you start the engine and begin to drive. This was really happening. When Corpse had asked to meet, you were shocked. While you had discussed it, you had been under the assumption it would be a while before it happened. You just hope you don’t make an idiot of yourself; a tendency you had when you were nervous.
While you love the city, there’s something about driving on the open road. No noise, just the sound of tires on concrete. The scenery remains the same; nothing but trees and the occasional house far in the horizon. You’re meeting him in Santa Barbara; a place you’ve been to once in your life, so it might as well be brand new. It’s halfway between both of you, and while it’s still a few hours drive, you’ve got good music and some sunshine to keep you happy.
The drive flies in and before you know it, you’ve arrived. You’re meeting at a cafe that sells bubble tea; it was Corpse’s recommendation. It’s a charming little place, with white table and chairs on a cobbled patio area. The building itself is white brick, plant pots decorate the window sills and there’s a small crowd of people waiting in line. You turn off the engine, and grab the perfume out your bag, the smell of peaches invading your nostrils. With one last look at yourself, you exit your car and make your way to the cafe.
You’re not sure how you’ll find him, being faceless and all. A quick scan of the people around you, your eyes zero in on a figure dressed all in black, leaning against a wall that’s slightly in the shade. There’s butterflies in your stomach as you look at him from afar, your feet apparently unable to move on their own accord. He stands out amongst the brightly coloured outfits of everyone else, and you can see the sun glint against the chains on his jeans.
“Hi,” you greet, your hand going up to half-wave at him. He’s handsome; pale skin and cheekbones that disappear under the fabric of his mask. A mop of black curls are atop his head, falling out in different directions, and he brushes one off his forehead as he looks at you.
“Hey,” he replies and you smile a little. There’s a thick fog of awkwardness between you as you both take each other in, though trying not to look so obvious about it. You feel under scrutiny as his eyes move over you, and you meet his gaze before you both look down at the ground, a faint blush on your cheeks.
“How was the drive?,” you ask at the same time he does, causing you both to laugh. “Oh. Uh yeah it was good, thanks, how was yours?”
“Yeah it was good,” he replies, his eyes still on the ground.
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
You scream internally as your eyes dart around, looking for something, anything to break this awkwardness. It shouldn’t be like this, you have such great chemistry on the phone and online, but there’s nothing right now. Is it you? There’s a niggling in your brain that says he was fine until now; until he saw you.
“We could go, uh, into the cafe? Get some food?” he suggests, breaking you from your self deprecating thoughts. You nod and you follow him to the door. He opens it and you dodge out the way as it narrowly escapes hitting you in the face. Corpse mutters an apology as he walks in, his eyes glued to the ground.
You order together; you get yourself a boba tea and a burger and Corpse does the same. He pays without saying anything to you, and while the day’s isn’t going quite as you pictured, the gesture makes your cheeks warm. You desperately hope it gets better. Maybe you’ve misread the situation and the chemistry you felt you had was just friendship on his part. Friends flirt all the time, and it doesn’t have to mean anything.
Your food arrives and you sit in relative silence as you eat. The times you do speak is stilted, full of one word answers and obvious observations. You go to reach for your boba as Corpse goes to grab salt, and the movement of his hand plus the crampedness of the table pushes your own hand back towards you, knocking the cup all over your neck and chest. Corpse shoots up in a speed that shouldn’t be human, his hand full of napkins as he comes towards you. The liquid is cold against your skin, and you look down to see your outfit now ruined, the fabric sticking to you in wet patches.
“I’m such a fucking idiot, I’m so sorry,” Corpse says, his tone panicky as he dabs at your neck. He continues to dab, his hands pressing at the neckline of your top and if this was another time, you’d feel all fluttery at his hands on your skin. But it’s not, you’re uncomfortable and the day has sucked so far and all you want to do is go home. He discards the napkin onto the table and grabs another, his fingers warm against your collarbone as he presses the tissue. He doesn’t realise that he’s travelling downwards to your chest before he presses once, twice, before retracting his hand back like he’s been burned, the napkin falling to the floor. “Uh fuck, sorry, I didn’t realise I - “
“It’s fine,” you reassure him. “I’ve always wanted apple scented boobs, guess I can check that off my bucket list.” It’s a failed joke but humour is a defence mechanism for you, even if it’s not very funny. Corpse widens his eyes a little, his gaze fixed on the napkin that’s on the floor.
He hands you some more napkins and you clean up a little more. Your skin feels sticky, and you smell of artificial apple; but the apple isn’t sweet, it’s bitter and slightly unpleasant.
“Uh, I should probably go home and get a shower, I feel like I fell into a vat of sugar,” you say, standing up and grabbing your bag.
“Oh, yeah, I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so clumsy,” Corpse replies. You can tell he feels awful, and while you sympathise, he’s not the one that’s just had almost a full cup of boba spilled on him.
You shake your head, “It’s fine, really. I just feel really gross. Don’t worry about it.” You smile in what you hope comes across as reassurance.
“Let me walk you back to your car,” he says. You nod and walk out together in silence; something you had gotten used to throughout the day.
“Have a safe drive back,” you say as you get to your car.
“I will. Let me know when you get home?” he asks, and you nod.
“Shall do. Goodbye Corpse,” you say, opening the door and waving at him through the window. He waves back and you watch him through the rearview mirror as he disappears out of sight. You feel like an idiot for believing this was going to be good, like you ever had a chance with him. You’d been saying it since the start; that it wouldn’t work, you had nothing in common, nothing to talk about. And you were right. Sometimes you hated being right.
You turn the engine on and sit there for a second, your head pressing against the steering wheel. What a waste of time this was. Grabbing your phone, you tweet quickly.
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“Oh well, let’s go wallow in self pity,” you whisper before driving off.
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