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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

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Not a Saint or a Hero

Summary: To civilians, Ladybug is a hero. In the eyes of the law, Ladybug is a vigilante at best, and a villain at worst.

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Conquering the Parisian underworld is child’s play for Ladybug and her partner, Chat Noir. The ex-boss of the Parisian underworld, code name Hawkmoth, may have been good at pushing drugs and ruining people’s lives, but he was woefully incompetent at... basically everything else. Which meant that other than Hawkmoth and his direct underlings, there really wasn’t much of a structure at all that Ladybug had to be worried about. No cohesive unit, fighting as one, just easy pickings and an even easier way to convince the drug dealers, homeless, illegal fight rings, and various other under the radar activities to band together to topple Hawkmoth’s empire.

Ladybug, after all, had experience with overthrowing established mafiosos. She did it once in Wenzhou at her mother’s side, another time in Beijing because somebody made the mistake of trying to push her into prostitution, and twice in Italy with her grandmother, code name Befana.

“Do you really have to leave, m’lady?”

Ladybug shrugs. “I trust you and the team to keep things up and running. We had a good run, but there’s a good structure in place now and Befana wants me to go with her to another country.”

Nobody says no to Befana, not unless they’re bullet proof. Ladybug may have high quality Kevlar sewn into every outfit she wears, but even she isn’t the biggest fan of the impact of a bullet. Depending on the gun, broken ribs are a kindness.

“I know you don’t get along with Queen Bee, and almost everyone else is out of the country, but you’re not going to say goodbye to Rena or Carapace?”

“It’s not like I’m going to be gone forever. Just a few months. A year at most.”

“Promise me you’ll come back, m’lady?”

Ladybug puts a hand on her partner's shoulder. “You know I can’t make promises like that.”

Chat pauses, dull thud of the rave music filling in their silence.

He swirls the whiskey in his glass. “Stay safe, Bug. Play it smart.”

“I always do.”

It comes as no surprise that Befana dumps her in the middle of one of the most crime infested cities world wide without a backwards glance. Her granddaughter is grown up now, after all.

“Have fun, darling. Black Mask is particularly nasty, make sure to watch out for his assistant, she’s very sharp.” Befana pulls away from the nonexistent curb— nonexistent because there’s no sidewalks in the slums of Gotham, at least, not many of them in good enough conditions to have curbs or whole piece of cement to walk on— and leaves Marinette all on her lonesome with a backpack, a key to a cheap apartment.

Marinette eyes the broken bottles leading to the entryway of her new building and the boarded up windows. Across the street, there’s two women smoking and conversing in hushed tones.

“Well,” Marinette mutters underneath her breath, shifting the straps of her only worldly possessions. “It’s definitely quieter than I expected.”

“Hey, new girl,” one of the women in the group calls out to her. “What’re you in for?”

“School. This is the cheapest apartment I could find.”

The woman exchanges a glance with one of her friends.

“You’re better off finding a more expensive apartment elsewhere. This isn’t a place for someone like you.”

An excellent line for Marinette to begin to fish for information. “What do you mean by that?”

“This is disputed territory, now. If you can’t afford to stay somewhere else, you better stay with whoever just dropped you off.”

Marinette fidgets. Gina is long gone. Grandmother or not, even though Gina is undoubtedly loyal and will never hurt her, she believes that the best way to inspire growth is through adversity. Like now. The only information she got out of Befana was that she had to figure out a way to keep Gotham in line… whatever that meant. “She’s not going to come back. I guess I’ll just have to try my luck.”

“You really got nowhere else to go?”

“No. I’m from abroad.”

“That explains the accent,” says the one holding a beer bottle. “Then listen up, girlie. If you wanna survive, there’s three rules you’ve gotta learn. One. Don’t cross the Black Mask. Two. Don’t cross Red Hood. Three. Don’t sell to children.”

“Sell to children?”

“Well, I don’t suppose you’d be doing it anyways, given the whole,” she motions to Marinette’s body with a cigarette, “but Hood goes after anyone who sells drugs to kids real bad. Worse than if you fuck him over with anything the Black Mask’s doing, anyways.”

“Red Hood doesn’t sound like that bad of a guy, then.” Maybe she’ll look into a collaboration with him.

The woman with the beer bottle laughed. “Oh honey, you’re a saint. Don’t go fostering any dreams. You just stay away, hear?”

“I hear you,” Marinette says.

But they got something wrong.

Marinette isn’t a saint, and never has been.

The walls of her crappy one bedroom apartment are thin enough to hear the baby upstairs scream at ungodly hours. If it’s not the baby waking her up, her neighbors in the apartment to her right are fucking very, very loudly. The apartment below her blasts rock music at all hours, the apartment to her right is likely selling drugs, given that she sees at least fifteen different people come in and out each day, and they always have a vaguely dazed look in their eye. She hasn’t heard anything from the apartment across, but she’s sure they’ll start up some noisy activity that Marinette doesn’t particularly want to hear soon enough.

She really got pampered in Paris, didn’t she?

Marinette lived a life of relative luxury whenever she stayed with her parents, instead of Gina. While in Beijing and Chongqing with Tom and Sabine, Maman did all of the heavy lifting for her. Well, Beijing had ended rather disastrously, and they had to make a quick getaway, but at least in Chongqing, Sabine managed to get rid of the prostitution ring.

Back in Wenzhou, Catania, and Bologna, Gina took the reins, and it always turned out to be a sink or swim sort of situation. First off was her mother’s birth place, which had an astonishingly high crime rate and definitely explained why Sabine Cheng was so adept at self defense, and once they were there, of course they had to reform the fight rings. In Catania and Bologna, Gina practically threw her at two of the lowest rank mafia groups and told her to use them to bring order to the warring mafias. During those years, Gina didn’t make a front like Sabine and Tom did, purchasing a bakery and running a business to aid their more behind the scenes work. No, with Gina, it was either war of peace, and there was nowhere in between.

Which, of course, meant that Marinette rarely got to stay in nice rooms or pursue hobbies like sewing or drawing or anything, really.

Now that she is of age, Marinette could potentially try to wrest herself out of Befana’s influence, but that’s almost a laughable thought. Befana has eyes and ears everywhere. If she wants to escape the rat race of reformation, Marinette needs to gather power.

The best thing she can do for now is try to figure out the situation in Gotham. If it’s not particularly bad, maybe she’ll have an easy time of it, and figure out how to disappear herself. She’s not totally opposed to the whole making-criminals-act-within-the-bounds-of-morality thing, but it’s gotten pretty tiring. Not repetitive, necessarily, but after experiencing an almost normal life in Paris, Marinette does want to have the privilege of not having to worry about her life every hour. Maybe she can even start up a little boutique.

Marinette dumps most of the contents out of her bag, only leaving her wallet, a knife, and her trademark yo-yos.

“Maybe I can go back to Paris, eventually.” She has become very fond of the city; the first place where she took fate into her own hands, where her mother and grandmother didn’t push her to reform the underworld. The first place where she chose to change the world around her. The first place where she saw things through from start to finish. The first place she formed her own team.

The power of change is both incredibly addicting and terrifying. She sort of gets why Befana roams the world, looking for the next place she wants to shake things up in. But Marinette can’t get addicted. This is going to be her last city, then she’s going to return to Paris and settle down. She’ll leave city beautification to the so-called vigilantes that almost every city has acquired, save Paris.

Oh wait, she supposes that Ladybug and Chat Noir were-- and Chat still is-- a type of vigilante back home. But as it stands now, it will be more correct to refer to them as heads of the Parisian underworld; they definitely don’t work on the side of the law, but she and Chat made sure that drug deals were more… regulated. That deaths and the induction of children into such a dark world were curbed. That if people really wanted to get out, they could.

All of that doesn’t matter. Not in the eyes of the law at least. Parisian citizens love the duo for helping keep crimes off the streets and for banning the particularly strong strain of drug that Gabriel called AKUMA off the market, but the Parisian police? She and Chat both have targets on their head. Their whole team does.

She eyes the apartment across from her. There’s blood on the door handle. It’s a good thing that Sabine and Tom never tried to instill those odd customs of ‘house warming’ and ‘getting to know her neighbors’ that most other people teach their children. In good neighborhoods, it’s important to have a cordial relationship with whoever’s living next door. In neighborhoods like these? It’s even more important.

But rule number one of pissing people off?

Coming over uninvited.

Marinette doesn’t bother locking the door behind her.

“New to the neighborhood?”

Apparently, it really is bizarre for her to have moved into this apartment complex. She’s come across a grand total of five people during her week here, and every single one of them stopped whatever they were doing in order to take a closer look.

Marinette knows that this is a disputed area. She looked into the two women’s words the day she arrived. But, for a disputed area, everything is remarkably quiet. No fights, nobody on the streets, most people keep indoors, unless they’re out for a smoke, to throw out the trash, or are going to or coming back from various activities outside of the block.

What’s even more odd is that all of her neighbors seem to know each other intimately. Or at least, intimately enough to know that she doesn’t belong there.

“Yeah,” Marinette says, ready to leave this conversation behind. She doesn’t bother getting information out of the people who are in her apartment complex or on this block. To be more accurate, she tried with one of the first people she came across, but it was apparent that someone encouraged them to be tight lipped with information.

Given the current information she has, she thinks it’s more likely that the one who gave that order is Red Hood, rather than Black Mask.

“Been here a week.” The guy lights his joint and breathes out. “Not so new anymore.”

Over the years, she’s gotten used to the smell of marijuana, though she can’t say she likes the scent. She’ll take cigarettes over weed any day.

“You could say that.”

“Don’t suppose anybody’s laid out the rules for you yet, have they?”

Maybe this will make things easier for her. Mostly, she’s just settled into her apartment over the past seven days. There's no need for her to immediately get to work, and she does enjoy comfort. Taking down criminals is hard work. She wants to come back to an apartment that doesn’t look awful and lets her relax. So what if she spent most of her money on an expensive mattress and a coffee machine? She’s an adult now. Nobody can tell her what to do. (Except for Befana.) “No, not really.”

“Tina and Audrey give you a crash course?”

“Mostly just warned me not to sell to children.”

The man barks, smoke spitting into the stale air. “Some of the best advice around. Let me tell you, Black Mask might have more manpower, but Red Hood has rage. Cross Black Mask by gypping him, he’ll send a lackey after you. Fuck with children, Red Hood himself will come for you.”

He pauses, evaluating her appearance.

“Though you look like a child yourself. Mighty pretty too. lucky girl. Hood will protect you if you stay around these parts, but if you go south on the diagonal, you’ll be in bad territory. Plenty of prostitution rings around there.”

“Thought this was disputed territory.”

“Not really. Anywhere Hood has claimed is said to be disputed because Mask hates his guts and keeps sending goons to these areas. But anyone who’s dealing under Mask aint gonna take the risk of their lives just to branch out to these spots.”

“Sounds like Red Hood is pretty well liked around these parts, then.”

Perhaps she’ll look into working with him. From what she’s heard of the guy and what she’s found trawling the dark web, his morals seem to align with her own. A little bit more temperamental than she’d like, a little too quick to kill, rather than apprehend, but Gotham prisons seem to have jailbreaks every other week, so she can understand why it may be easier just to make every encounter a one and done.

“Liked?” Blunt finished, he flicks the stub into the dirt, crushing the embers under foot. He wipes his mouth with the scarf around his neck. “Like isn't the question in Gotham, Frenchie.”

Marinette inwardly cringes. She’s tried to minimize her accent because it makes natives distrust her, or think they can take her for a loop. Most people she’s come across accept her as one of their own, but apparently she hasn’t been doing as well as she thought she was. Maybe this is why people seemed a little more reluctant with any information.

“When it comes down to it, liking means nothing. It’s who you trust to watch your back.” He fumbles in his pockets, pulling out another blunt. Marinette notices that his fingers are fairly heavily bandaged and that the man is shaking slightly. Medicinal marijuana, maybe. “Wouldn’t trust that Mask farther than I can throw him. And he used to be a wrestler, so he’s a fat bastard. At least you can trust Hood not to cross you as long as you don’t cross him first.”

Lighting the tip, his eyes sharpen. “You seem like the trustworthy sort. Active, too. I’ll leave you with one more piece of advice. If you ever run into Hood? Don’t mention two things: the Joker, and Batman.”

“I doubt I’ll ever run into him,” Marinette lies.

The man laughs. “I’m a Gotham native, Frenchie. I can tell what kind of person you are. You’ll be meeting him soon, I know. Hood needs someone to watch his back, and you? You need someone to keep your head above water.”

He flicks the ash off the blunt and turns his back on her, and Marinette can’t tell whether he’s showing her respect or belittling her.

Two weeks into her stay in Gotham and Marinette has finally collected enough information about her surroundings to feel confident about going out as Ladybug.

Guns are infinitely more available here in America than they were back in France, which means she needed more than one costume, and an upgrade to her current one. High quality kevlar is good and all, but it’s heavy, and not everyone in Gotham is high off their minds using AKUMA. Replacing kevlar with polythene, now that it’s available to her, is only a natural decision. She has to be more careful here in Gotham. Not only does she have no support network, she’s also highly inexperienced with the terrain. She’s at a disadvantage here.

With a combo polythene and kevlar bodysuit, a crop top with her signature ladybug embroidery on the backside, an all black domino mask, and a utility belt with two yo-yos , knife, and emergency medical supplies, she’s as ready as she ever will be to witness the nightlife first hand.

And just like in Paris, Wenzhou, Beijing, Chongqing, Catania and Bologna, she doesn’t have to go far to find the trouble.

Befana has told her multiple times that Marinette is like a lucky charm for problems. Judging by the amount of time she’s gotten herself into sticky situations unintentionally, she’s inclined to agree, though she’d call herself more of an unlucky charm.

She doesn’t bother speaking, instead hurling one yo-yo at the guy who’s trying to tie up a girl half her age and the other yo-yo at the wheels of his car, to make sure he can’t make a quick getaway.

Ladybug may not use guns, but she never said that her weaponry wasn’t tricked out; yo-yo knocks the guy up the head, sending him down for the count, and yo-yo two slashes through the rubber tire. The man waiting in the car rolls down the window to shoot. Ladybug rolls her eyes. Dumb and dumber. She’s not sure whether he’s trying to preserve his windows or doesn’t realize that rolling down his window leaves him open for her own attacks.

Reeling back in yo-yo one. She hurtles it through the window, presses a button, then ducks. The head of the yo-yo detached and shocks the driver.

“Need help getting home?” Ladybug asks the girl who’s currently edging away from her.

“Who are you? Why did you help me?”

Ladybug shrugs. She’s never been particularly good at explaining herself; Chat took care of most of the conversions within Hawkmoths retinue. She’s good at making the occasionally public statement and making sure people she’s close to don’t stray, but strangers? Most people back in Paris just trusted her blindly, and she never had to think about how to present her reasoning.

She takes two sets of zip ties out of her pack, then restrains her first victim. After she slaps a patch on the tire-- if she is going to take this girl home, she certainly doesn’t want to walk her back in this neighborhood, and judging by the size of the van, there are probably a few people in the back she’ll need to free as well. Ladybug moves on to tie up the guy in the car, back towards the girl. “If you don’t want my help, that’s fine too.”

As soon as she turns, there’s a sharp intake of breath. “You’re with Hood, then.”

Not yet. “M not, actually. Never met the guy. What makes you say that?”

A bout of nervous, high pitched laughter. “The red, maybe. Or, I don’t know, the fact that he’s here and not knocking you out?”

Ladybug whirls, trying to see where the infamous vigilante is. True to the girls word, he is just a little ways down the alleyway they’re currently in, looking, for all intents and purposes, not about to kill her. How pleasant. Better than she was expecting; his temper precedes him, and she was expecting to have to fight with the guy before even dreaming about having a civil discussion with him.

He doesn’t have his hands on his guns, which she takes as a good sign. Taking a good look at him she’s almost surprised that he’s calming himself the Red Hood instead of the Red Helmet, but she supposes the former sounds better.

“Let me finish tying that one up,” Ladybug says.

Red Hood grunts in response.

“So you are working together,” the girl concludes.

Ladybug shrugs again, tapping another button to reattach the head of her yo-yo and grabbing the keys and phone from the driver’s pocket. She pops the back of the van. There are three girls tied up in the back.

Her knife makes quick work of the bonds that restrain them. The girls take the duct tape off their mouths themselves; she feels a deep disgust of the men that are currently knocked unconscious. Not only are they traffickers, but they’re new traffickers. Inexperienced. Duct tape isn’t used most times because it damages the goods. Either that, or they’re organ dealers, because people don’t need the bodies to look pretty when they just want the innards. Judging by the fact that all of the people in the back are girls, she’ll put money on the first one.

“You going to let me drive these girls back before we have our talk?”

“Fine,” Red Hood bites out, moving to sit shotgun. “You move one finger out of line, and I’ll shoot.”

Ladybug tosses the unconscious body out of the driver’s seat.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

#lowkey wanna write the precursor to this where lb and cn take down hm but im lazy #jasonette july #jasonette #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #villain au #miraculous ladybug #dcu #bamf marinette #original content #maribat #someone save me im drowning in aus #don't know why writing anything after ch 1 seems so hard #i need someone to keep me on track

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solarscholarsofmagick · 5 years ago

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10 Things that EVERYONE Needs to Know Before Starting the Craft

1. Wicca and Witchcraft are Not the Same Thing

This is a pet-peeve of mine when people use those words interchangeably. So, what’s the difference? To put it simply, Wicca is a religion, while witchcraft is a practice. It’s like saying that prayer and Christianity are the same thing. Wicca is a relatively new invention, being created in the late 1950’s by Gerald Gardner after he spent a lot of time in Asia and became enthralled with their spirituality, which he merged with various occult practices that he came across in his travels. Witchcraft, on the other hand, is defined, at least by this author, as the act of manipulating the energy around you to achieve a goal. You can be either or you can be both, but they are not mutually exclusive.

2. Witchcraft Does Not Need to Kill Your Bank Account

If you follow many big-name witch influencers, more than likely, you will get caught up in the aesthetic of hundreds of beautiful crystals, perfect altars, sculpted candles, and much more elaborate and expensive things. Now, I want to make it clear, that there is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but it is not always feasible to have (or afford) everything required to fit that aesthetic. Rough, unpolished crystals will work just as good as the one you saw that was professionally polished and carved into the shape of a skull. You can get candles at thrift shops, not just at the website that sells specifically anointed candles for every specific intention. Remember, it is not the tool that makes the witch, but the witch that makes the tool!

3. Know the Difference Between a Coven and A Cult

While it is not necessary, there are definitely some benefits that come with finding a coven that welcomes you with open arems. So, first off, what is a coven?

A coven is a group of like-minded witches that help each other out magickally and hold a special bond or connection. They will often perform rituals together. Please keep in mind that there is a difference between a coven and a cult.

A coven is rewarding, full of (usually) great people and potential friends, while a cult is dangerous, toxic, and filled with people who often prey on the vulnerable or unaware.

Here are some potential warning signs of a cult:

They encourage you to cut off ties with your friends and family.

They try their best to make you dependent on them.

They pressure you into engaging in sexual/criminal/drug activities.

You feel as if it is dangerous to leave.

The “leader” equates themselves to a deity or is a “my word is law” type.

You feel as if you are walking on eggshells around them.

There is some “divine” goal that you must behave a very specific way in order to reach.

Those who manage to escape are demonized and/or are made into examples.

If you suspect that you or a loved one are in a dangerous situation, please contact the appropriate authorities.

4. Witchcraft Can Become Mundane

Pop culture has a bad habit of sensationalizing witchcraft. As cool as it looks, witchcraft isn’t all lightning fingers and demon-slaying. You most likely won’t become a soldier of a magickal war, facing down an ancient evil that was recently released. Sorry, I didn’t mean to burst your bubble!

That being said, witchcraft is extremely rewarding and can be as fun as you make it!

Just like with any other art, it requires discipline! It requires study, practice, and essential tasks (or as they are often fondly called, witchy chores). Some of these “chores” include cleansing, charging, decorating, meditation, and more. Unfortunately, as we all know, these tasks may feel tedious, but they are often very necessary. Again, it is as fun as you make it, and you will be less likely to burn out/hate performing the tasks if you view them as the essential tasks they are rather than unnecessary chores.

5. Learn As Much of the Basics That You Can

As much as we want to immediately jump into more flashy things such as astral projection and elaborate spells or hexes, you must learn the basics first. Why? Because, without a strong grasp of the basics, your magickal work can be unstable and reap results that you may not have intended, including ones that cause harm to you or those around you. To quote a cliche, you must learn to crawl before you can walk.

Here are some basics that I recommend you begin with:

Visualization

Meditation

The history of witchcraft

The elements of a spell

Color/stone/common herb correspondences

Grounding

Different types of the craft

6. Elitism Exists and it’s Bullsh*t

Unfortunately, no matter what community you are in, there will always be a few bad apples, but I will be referring specifically to elitists. Elitists in the witchcraft community tend to preach that their way is the only true way to be a witch, that you must have the most expensive of tools, or that witches who come from a family of witches are better than those who do not. If there is one thing that I want you to take from this article, it’s that, no matter what anyone says, you will NEVER be any less of a witch because of your bloodline, ethnicity, skin color, religion, spiritual practice, or socio-economic status!

7. You Don’t Need to Choose Between Religion and the Craft

One of the most common reasons of being apprehensive towards starting your journey through the craft that I see is a fear of retaliation within your own religion. For example, a lot of Christian witches will initially be afraid of going to hell for their practices. As someone who grew up in the Bible Belt of the Southern United States (poor Awen still lives there), I can definitely relate to this feeling. However, I, as well as several other religious witches, can say that you can have both. You do not need to drop one to have the other. In my eyes, your relationship with your god(s) is between them and you and is nobody else’s business.

To make things a little easier, however, I recommend sliding into the craft slowly. Dip your toe in the proverbial water. Try starting by engaging in activities that aren’t necessarily tied to witchcraft such as meditating, grounding, growing plants, or even just collecting pretty rocks. I also recommend reaching out to practicing witches within your faith for advice. It also may be a good idea to truly research religions of interest and make sure that your religion is a good match for you. It is okay to realize that the religion you were raised to be in, like being raised to be in a particular political party, does not have to be your religion. If it is and it causes you and others around you no harm, then I am truly happy for you and support you.

8. Learn to Listen to Your Intuition/”Gut”

We tend to have a 6th sense for danger or the presence of another being. You may recognize this feeling when you can feel that someone is watching you. Our instincts are built into us to keep us alive. Personally, following my gut has saved my life more than once. In one particular incident, my gut told me to stop at a crosswalk despite not seeing any nearby cars and the sign telling me to walk. Seconds later, a truck sped by, running the red light at full speed.

If you feel that a spell has taken a turn towards the unwanted, find a stopping point and seal it away. Feel as if a deity is calling you? Take the time to research them and their calling cards. However, please take the time to learn the difference between a negative gut feeling and general nervousness, as it does feel different.

9. Learn the Difference Between Good and Bad Resources

Misinformaion and toxic ideologies can be dangerous when it comes to witchcraft. You can read extensively about the difference between the two in my previous post about it here.

10. It’s Okay If the Craft is Not for You

If you decide to try out the craft and later feel as if it isn’t clicking… that’s okay. The initial decision to explore is not one for life. Just like how certain sports, hobbies, music, et cetera are not for everybody, witchcraft is not for everybody. Anyone who decides to judge you for that is wrong and not worth your time.

Please consider supporting us by viewing the original post on our website, here!

#witchblr #witch #witchcraft #witches of color #witches of tumblr #wiccablr #wicca #wiccan #wiccans of color #wiccans of tumblr #pagan #paganism #pagans of color #pagans of tumblr #occult #spiritual #spirituality #spiritualism

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chris-evans-indian-fanfic · 4 years ago

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Merchant of Death

One-Shot

Description: Mob!Thanos is a collector of the most precious things in the world. But what happens when his eyes upon you?

Warning - Mentions of violence and beheading

Words- 5400~

This one-shot is my entry for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork 's writing challenge. I used the following image prompt. Check out this link to participate in the challenge!

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Nobody knew his real name. Nobody cared. Named after the Greek God of death himself, Thanos was modern day's omen of slaughter. Being the leader of one of the oldest mob families in New York, Thanos commanded a certain level of respect amongst his peers. It wasn't just that his heritage was daunting. His towering height, broad shoulders, vast expanse of muscled torso and legs were enough to intimidate even the toughest of the fighters. Always dressed in an impeccably crisp suit, his bald head, sharp eyes and a strong, set jaw easily gave the impression that he was the owner of a multi-billionaire corporation.

It wouldn't be wrong to call his drugs and weapons empire a well-oiled corporation. His 10 fingers were dipped in blood in multiple countries throughout the seven continents, yes even in Antarctica.

Thanos was a well-known figure. Everybody knew who he was, knew what he did, but nobody, not even the law authorities, could ever connect him with any illegal activity, be it harbouring and selling of illegal guns and drugs, or smuggling goods to his centres across the globe.

For all his wrongdoings, Thanos did donate 10% of his revenue to the poor, the homeless, the downtrodden. Almost like a twisted version of Robinhood, where he ripped off the rich with highly priced drugs and paid a part of the amount to the poor.

For this reason, there were two sides of him which were portrayed in the media, those who earned his favour called him Messiah of the Poor, while the others who had witnessed his ire addressed him as the Merchant of Death. But in both the iterations, it had been made ample clear that nobody could make Thanos bleed.

That's why it came as a shock when the Chief of Police, Steve Rogers, had managed to shoot Thanos in an encounter. Looking at their leader fall to the ground, Thanos' men commenced their feral attack on the protectors of the law, driving them back.

The bullet had pierced his left forearm, but hopefully hadn't made it far into his body, thanks to the bulletproof vest sewn into the jacket.

His men rushed him to the nearest hospital as he put pressure on the wound.

...

Being the night of 31st December, the ER was more crowded than usual, with drunk idiots involved in car accidents, accidental weapon discharges, or some even sustaining injuries by bursting fire crackers at a close range.

You silently cursed yourself. Yeah saving lives was noble and all, but spending the entire New Year's Eve in the hospital, surrounded by blood and equally bloody cries of their families and friends really got on your nerves at times.

You steeled yourself as you entered the operation theatre (OT) for another surgery. This moron's druggie friend had shot him in the chest because he thought he was someone else. This would be a complicated surgery, as the bullet was deep inside the muscle, almost touching the heart. One miscalculation could result in more complications.

Halfway through the surgery, you heard a commotion outside the OT. Furrowing your head, you tried to concentrate, but the noise grew louder. You focused your mind on removing the bullet. As if choreographed, your instrument touched the bullet just as a gun was fired right outside your door.

Your colleagues jumped, but you set your concentration on removing the piece of metal from this man's body.

The doors to the OT were kicked open as a tall, thin man entered weilding a gun, asking for you. Your staff promptly pointed at your bent figure.

You were still focused on extracting the bullet when the gun cocked next to your ear, "C'mon out Doctor, we need you to treat our boss," Maw commanded you.

Ignoring him, you carefully pulled the metal upwards, looking at the live scan feed on the screen for direction.

"I don't think you heard me Doctor. Leave this man and come with me. Our boss needs you. I will not repeat myself," warned Maw, his venomous voice laced with concern for his boss.

You did not move.

When he pressed the gun to your forehead, your staff gasped in terror, but you refused to budge.

As soon as the damned bullet was out, you dropped it onto a tray along with your gloves, instructed your staff to stitch up the wound, and wordlessly looked at the greasy-haired Maw.

He beckoned you to follow him into Thanos' room where he was being prepped for surgery. You saw Dr Yellowstone tending to him as you approached. "I am sorry Doctor, I told them that you were in a surgery but..." you brushed him off, asking to see the preliminary reports. Dr Yellowstone explained that the bullet wound wasn't deep, and that a simple surgery headed by him would have sufficed, but they were insistent to get you to do the surgery.

"Of course," Maw's sickeningly smooth voice was back in your ear, "We wanted someone who's the best for our boss. And you are the best surgeon in the entire state, aren't you Doctor?" he asked with a sneer.

You continued to ignore him, coordinating with your staff. As Thanos was put in a wheelchair, Maw pulled out his gun again, cocking it near your forehead, "Our boss better be able to move that hand again miss, or tonight will be the last time you use both your hands."

That threat pushed you over the edge. All evening and night of dealing with insensitive jerks like this guy over here had finally made you snap.

You turned towards him, looked at the barrel of his gun and slapped him right across his cheek.

Whether it was the force of your slap, or the fact that your assault had been completely unexpected, nobody could tell, but Maw staggered backwards, his free hand resting on his long reddening cheek where you had struck him.

Thanos jerked in attention at your action. His pain seemed forgotten as he looked at you. Your plump figure stood tall as you glared at Maw.

"Put that gun away or there's more where that came from," you warned him spitefully.

"Nurse, take him to the OT. Dr Yellowstone, coordinate with the blood bank, we might need extra blood. I will see to it that the anesthesia is ready to administer," you left the room after instructing your team. As if you were going to wait around to witness the reaction of Thanos's right-hand man.

In the OT, you saw Thanos' large figure laid on the bed. You approached him with the anesthesia, but he held your hand with his uninjured arm. "Don't," he spoke in his thick voice. "It will hurt. The pain might lead to further complications," you explained. "No. I want to feel your touch," he said simply.

You rolled your eyes and cringed on the inside.

As the surgery began, Thanos kept his dark eyes on you. Neither once did he wince with pain, or avert his gaze. Ignoring him, you set about to remove the bullet from his arm, a quick procedure.

"Dr Yellowstone," you said from behind your mask, "stitch the wound and dress it."

"Where are you going?" Thanos asked you plainly, as if you both were sitting in a coffee shop. You ignored him and removed your gloves as Dr Yellowstone approached the patient.

Thanos moved his arm, "No. You will not. She will," he nodded towards you.

Audibly groaning, your assistant helped you in wearing a new pair of gloves.

Finally, with the wound stitched and dressed, you left the OT to tell Maw the good news.

…

3 hours after the surgery, Thanos looked at your file while resting on his bed. Compiled by Maw, this file had every detail of your life, no matter how minute. You had captured his attention unlike anything else, anyone else. He flipped through the pages, learning more about your family, friends, hobby, and profession.

His member twitched when he saw your images from social media. Beneath the doctor's coat, you were plump, curvy and thick, just the way he liked his women. He paused, drinking in your appearance in a swimsuit. Placing a finger on your face, he slowly traced your outline, his finger respecting every bump, every bend till he reached your covered mound. He pressed it, as if hoping to see you react, but you kept on smiling in the image.

Eyes heavy with sleep, he looked around his room. His quiet quarters screamed with opulence. Decorated with the world's most expensive marble, motifs covered in 24k gold, diamond chandelier and Persian rugs, his room paid homage to some of the priceless wonders of the planet. But looking at them now, Thanos realised that none held a candle next to you.

As he settled in to sleep, he smirked. You would make a nice addition to his room.

…

A week later, Thanos surprised his men by driving himself to your hospital. He had taken an appointment, afterall, his wound needed to be checked.

He knocked on your cabin door, entering only when you said to. He smiled warmly at your startled expression, standing patiently next to the chairs across your desk.

"Dione," he interrupted you, "Please call me Dione."

You gathered yourself quickly, "Mr Thanos I-"

He smiled cheekily, he knew he had struck at the right place, at the right time. Extending his arm, he reached out for your palm, holding it gently in his. "Please come in. You must be tired," he said, leading you into your own house.

You squinted your eyes. You remembered reading the strange name on your list of appointments today. "What can I help you with Mr Dione?"

Thanos smiled. He liked the way his name rolled off your lips. "May I take a seat?" You nodded.

Thanos barely fit in the chair, his vast thighs almost bulging out from the sides of the chair. "I think my wound needs to be redressed."

"I thought Maw said he had the best doctors at your beck and call," you spat at him.

"I owe you an apology," he said slowly, "Maw's behaviour that night was appalling, to say the least. I have never hurt or intended to hurt healthcare workers. I regret his actions. Please accept my sincere apologies."

Thanos or Dione, surprised you for the second time that day. His acknowledgement of his staff's misbehaviour left you dumbfounded.

He cleared his throat, "As I was saying, I think my wound needs to be redressed." He turned to his side as much as he could, and displayed the bloodied bandage on his arm.

You asked him to sit on the patient's examining bed in your office and unwrapped his bandage.

"Does it bleed everyday?" you asked.

"No, it started bleeding today. As soon as it did I thought I should visit you."

Thanos looked at you closely. He studied every contour of your face. His right hand fought the urge to cup your cheek and pull you closer to him.

You traced the wound on his left arm and straightened your back, fully aware of his intense gaze on you.

"Mr Thanos…,"

"Mr Dione, please," he interrupted you.

"Mr Thanos," you asserted, "This wound has been reopened by a knife. And judging by the angle of the cut, I think it was you who did it," you stared at his eyes.

He whispered your name, "I just wanted to see you again."

"It's Dr (Y/N) for you," you spoke sharply, "I will fix this wound now. But if you inflict harm upon yourself again, then I will not be able to help you."

Thanos saw you grab your kit and come near him, "I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"I don't think there was any foot involved, Mr Thanos. The only things that were involved were a gun and my palm on Maw's cheek."

He chuckled softly at the memory. He loved the fire burning in your eyes. He wanted to see what would you look like burning up on his bed, riding waves of pleasure with him.

"Let me make it very clear, because people like you need to get everything spelled out for them," the venom dripping from your words brought his attention back to you, "I do not want to be involved with you Mr Thanos. I have no intention of being a mobster's trophy girlfriend. If you are really thankful for what I did, then you will leave me alone and never set a foot in this hospital again. Have I made myself clear?" you stared at his hungry eyes as you finished bandaging him.

Nobody on the entire planet, not even the President himself, dared to speak with Thanos in that tone. And here you were, staring him down as if he was worthless. It only made him hungrier, knowing that claiming you would be the sweetest reward he can give himself.

…

The rest of the week was thankfully uneventful for you. On Saturday night, you slowly climbed the stairs to your floor, feeling relieved. At least you had the whole of tomorrow to relax.

Reaching your apartment, you found the door unlocked. You stepped backwards, deciding to call the police from your building's security office.

Just then, your door swung open and a smiling Thanos cheerfully greeted you, "Welcome home doctor! Dinner is almost ready. Why don't you take a relaxing hot bath? I have already filled your tub with warm water."

After the exhausting week you had, you had never expected to find Thanos in your home, cooking dinner and preparing a bath. All you could do was stare at him with your mouth open, his black pants draping his thighs perfectly, the blue shirt hugging his muscled arms and torso as if second skin and to top it all, he was wearing your apron, the one with the cute pandas on it. The apron didn't even cover the distance between what you guessed were his nipples.

"I am not Thanos. I am Dione," he voice sounded sincere, "You asked Thanos to leave you alone, not Dione."

You barely felt his touch as he held your palm, again astonished at how gentle this huge beast of a man can be.

He locked the door behind you, took your purse and coat and knelt to untie your shoelaces. You jumped back at that gesture, finally coming to your senses. "What… what are you doing?" you managed to ask.

He looked up at you, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable if your shoes were removed?"

"No."

"No?" Thanos asked.

"Yes, I mean no. No, I meant what…"

Thanos shook his head, amused as he reached down to untie your shoes, ignoring your protests. He got up slowly, his body a mere inch away from yours. He held your eyes with his as he reached behind your head, unclipping your hair. He stood mesmerized as your hair fell down your shoulders, his hand massaging the spot where they were bunched up on your scalp.

You purred at his ministrations, your eyes suddenly widening as you heard the sound escape your lips. He let you move back as you held his gaze. Why did he have to be so goddamn attractive?!

You closed your eyes. No he's a mobster. You cannot be involved with him. No. No. No. Control yourself.

After that evening, you saw Thanos, (or Dione, you didn't really care) everyday in your home. You saw him first thing in the morning as he cooked you a hearty breakfast, and the last person for the day when he made dinner and tucked you in your bed.

You opened your eyes. You can do this. "Thanos and Dione are the same person. I don't want to be involved with you. Leave. Right now," you half-heartedly snarled, reaching for the door. But he put a hand on the lock first, stopping you.

"They aren't the same person. Thanos would never cook for anyone, even for himself. He wouldn't tolerate your disrespectful tone and arrogance. But I am. I want to-"

"Excuse me? Arrogance?" you cocked an eyebrow, "Do you realise the amount of shit I have had to go through after I operated on you? The FBI, CBI, Police and God knows what came pounding down my doors, accusing me of harbouring and aiding a criminal."

"I am well aware," he admitted tersely, "I have made sure that you will not be bothered again."

Your eyes widened as his words sunk in, "Did you kill them?" you whispered, your hands immediately flying to your mouth.

"I didn't," he stated.

A frown formed on your face as you tried to unpack his confession. "Did Thanos get them killed?" you asked with purpose.

Just then, the oven's timer chimed. "Ahh, dinner is ready. I made your favourite lasagna. There's also garlic bread and a cucumber mint salad. Do you still want to take a bath before dinner?" he asked casually as if he hadn't murdered a squad of officers.

Sensing your hesitation, he came over to you, and stepped in your space, "Give me a chance," he urged, "I am not the monster they paint me to be. Allow me to show you who Dione is. Let me cherish you. I promise, as long as I am with you, I will not indulge in any criminal activity. Please. Give us a chance," he finished earnestly, taking both your palms in his hands.

You slowly raised your eyes to meet his, breathing in his luscious, musky scent. His hand caressed your cheek, weaving through your hair as he pulled you closer, delicately. His soft exhale on your lips weakened your knees. But he stopped. The handsome bastard was waiting for you to come closer.

"I will walk a 1000 steps to reach you," he whispered quietly, "if you just take one towards me."

His other hand started a torturous journey up your arm, his touch feather light. His thumb slowly traced the outline of your bottom lip, coming to rest behind your head.

For a second, you were lost in his ministrations. For a second, you wanted to give in to the stillness of the night.

But a loud crash, and a woman's blood-curdling scream interrupted your peace. You jumped, looking in the direction of the noise. Thanos followed your gaze and smiled. He hummed with satisfaction, "Where were we?"

You shook out of his gentle grip and headed towards the direction of the commotion. As you peered down your window, you let out a scream. Down on the road, the body of a SWAT agent was sprawled on top of an indented car. It seemed as if he had fallen off the top of your neighbouring building.

Coming up behind you, Thanos vowed, "I would never engage in illegal activities when I am with you. But Thanos will destroy the world if that's what it takes to protect you."

…

Breakfast in Milan, luncheons in Athens and late night hot chocolate in Paris was enough to sway even the most heartless of the human beings. But you were still on your toes, waiting for this dream to turn into an ugly nightmare.

That wasn't all. He started buying you groceries, and even basic amenities like toothpaste and hairbrush. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw that he had even replenished your tampons.

For all his drawbacks, you couldn't ignore the fact that he never touched you without your consent. He treated you with respect, and cared for you as if you were made with glass. Some nights, when you came home unbelievably late, he was ready to massage your aching feet, while patiently listening to you rant about your day.

The time you spent with him almost felt domesticated. But you knew it was borrowed. Time went by and you started accompanying him on his trips as he refused to let you stay behind. You saw very little of Maw on these trips. Instead his other henchwoman, Proxima, was assigned to you.

"What is holding you back?" he asked you one day, as he brought dinner to your room in Venice, overlooking the city. "I have expressed my love for you in as many ways as I could," his eyes roamed over your body, "I think I have managed to strike the perfect balance between Thanos and Dione. I have done good on my promise to make sure you never see the ugly side of my business. Then why do you still refuse to come to me?"

You looked at him with a frown, "What makes you think I do not see the ugly side of your business? Do you know the amount of drug overdose cases we get in a day?"

Thanos looked out the window, "All those people are aware of the ill-effects of drugs. If they still choose to take it, then how does that make me the villain? Somebody else will sell the drugs if I don't."

"Really? That's your justification? So you owe nothing to the people whose lives are destroyed by your drugs and guns? What about the poor? The young who are addicted to your substance?" you argued in an accusing tone.

"I donate 10% of my earnings to them. But I can't help everyone," he justified.

Thanos chewed in silence as he considered your words, "Will you give yourself to me if I donate half of my wealth?" he looked at you after a few moments.

"10% is not even a dip in your ocean of riches Dione. You want to talk about striking a balance? Then donate 50% of your wealth to those who actually need the money. Auction off your antiques, your collectibles. Build schools, donate to NGOs, be good and help the people, the portion of the society who needs you the most," you tried to convince him.

You softly pushed your plate away, "No amount of charity can justify the killings Dione."

As Thanos gripped his fork tighter at your words, you swore you saw the metal bend. "I have to do what needs to be done to protect you. Even if it means spilling the blood of a few agents of the law. Do you think they will protect you from me? You are nothing but a source of information for them. As soon as they are done with you they will toss you aside like useless garbage. Your identity, your entire life will be erased from the record. You don't want me to protect you like that? Okay. Then what would you have me do?" he demanded an answer.

You met his gaze, your silence filling the conversation with words.

"I cannot just quit. I have spent my whole life building this empire and I am not about to give it up," he claimed through gritted teeth.

"But what did it cost you?" It was your turn to surprise him with your question.

"Everything," he admitted, "and more. But this was all I have ever had. There was no reason for me to leave this-"

"You do have a reason now," you interrupted him.

You dragged your chair towards Thanos and sat beside him. Placing a hand on his heart, you kept your eyes on him. "You have a reason now," you repeated in a whisper.

You saw a myriad of emotions cross his eyes. Taking advantage of his astonishment, you kissed his shoulder and rested your forehead on it. You felt his heart beating faster.

Thanos was glad your head was on his shoulder, as he didn't want you to see the tears in his eyes. This was the first time you had initiated any form of affection towards him. He held your hand, the one on his heart, and kissed it with a promise.

…

Officer Natasha Romanoff hurried towards Steve Rogers' office. She entered without knocking.

"Hey there! Knock before you-" Tony Stark, the Weapons Contacter tried to speak before Natasha cut him short.

"Steve, you need to hear this," Natasha looked at him.

In the last few months, thanks to Steve's bravery in the shoot-out with Thanos's men, he had been promoted to the highest ranking covert field agent at the FBI.

Steve nodded, requesting Tony to reschedule the meeting. As soon as they had the privacy, Natasha filled him in on the news. "Thanos is donating 50% of his wealth to charities and NGOs across the country. He's moving with his girl to Mauritius."

"He's building a new base there?" Steve cocked an eyebrow.

"No, he's retiring. If he gets on that plane then we will lose him forever."

"Hmmm," he considered her words, "I have a plan."

…

Thanos had advised you against going back to your apartment, arguing that all of your stuff was already packed and on the way to the flight. But you were relentless. You had to go back to retrieve a piece of your legacy which you were sure his men must have missed.

He watched in amazement as you removed the photo frame from your wall and tore the wallpaper, revealing a cavity inside.

You retrieved a box, wiping the dust off of it. Walking towards Thanos, you opened the box to reveal 6 rings. "These belonged to my grandfather. He always believed that there are six traits that make a man. He gave me these rings on his deathbed, and asked me to pass it on to the man who I deemed worthy." Pointing to the ring with the purple stone, you recited your grandfather's words, "Be with a man who commands Power," yellow stone- "But make sure he has a kind Soul," orange stone- "He should be able to read your Mind," green stone- "However, he must know the value of Time," red stone- "He should be able to accept his Reality," and lastly, the blue stone- "But, he should give you the world, the galaxy, the entire Space, if need be."

Holding out the box for him, you presented him with the rings. You smiled indulgently as you wiped his tears. He took your hand in his, kissing your fingers, your palm, your wrist. You laughed as he hugged your hand, "This is the second most precious gift I have ever been given."

You tilted your head, puzzled, "What is the most precious gift?"

"You."

…

Steve saw you and Thanos exit the building, hand in hand like two lovestruck teenagers. "Team Alpha, if you have a clear shot take it. But do not fatally wound him. We need him alive. I repeat, we need him alive. Team Omega, standby for the extraction. Team Beta, grab the First Aid Kit as soon as the Patient is hit" he commanded into the walkie-talkie using their codewords for you and Thanos.

"You still haven't told me where are we going," you pouted slightly as you walked towards the car. "Patience love, all in good time," Thanos smiled down at you. "This is White Wolf Team Alpha, firing in 3...2...," Bucky spoke in his earpiece.

"Wherever we are going, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," you spoke. "...1." You suddenly turned to face Thanos, and started walking backwards, your hand still in his.

The bullet pierced the space above your heart, before colliding with Thanos's bulletproof vest. Gunshots reduced to dull thuds around you as you collapsed in Thanos's arms, your blood staining his shirt.

You didn't notice when he carried you to the car. You didn't notice the speeding car coming to a halt. All you could hear was his panicked voice, and feel his pounding heart.

"Maw why are we stopping?" Thanos screamed at his henchman.

"Sire, there is a traffic jam ahead. We can't take any other route. There are rows of cars behind us. We are trapped," he said regretfully.

"I don't care! Kill them all, clear the road with explosives. She needs to get to a hospital NOW!" Thanos's voice boomed as panic gripped his heart.

"Sire we can't use explosives, the road might cave in. Proxima is arranging for a mobile hospital as we speak. They should be here soon," Maw spoke with hope.

Cradling you in his arms, Thanos pushed your hair back from your face, "Stay with me. Please stay with me. Don't leave me now. Please… no…"

"Hey," you managed to say in a cracked voice as tears escaped his eyes, "Dione," he looked at you, "I will... always be with you... my love," you struggled to caress his cheek as he held your arm.

"Please please please no," he pleaded.

You gasped as a new jolt of pain ran through your body, "I… I love you… Di… Dione," you smiled.

A heart-wrenching scream escaped Thanos as he held your lifeless body. His anguish lost in the traffic of vehicles blaring their horns.

…

"Sire," Maw's voice broke Thanos from his reverie. He turned to look at the box in Maw's hand. In the dim light of his room, he opened the lid to see the severed head of James Buchanan Barnes.

"Steve Rogers has gone underground sire, but we will soon find him," Maw promised.

"He is not the real problem Maw," Thanos turned back to the window, "Do you remember what the doctor had said? If we would have gotten her to the hospital in time, she would have been alive today."

He paused, looking down the crowded city before him, "She died because we couldn't get her to the hospital earlier. What had caused the traffic jam?"

"Two cars had gotten into an accident, which caused a pile up on the road," Maw explained.

"That pile up wouldn't have occurred 10 years ago. In the last 2 decades, there has been a population boom which has ended up putting a strain on resources. Governments across the world are refusing to tackle this problem and in fact, are boastful of the increase in their population." As if on cue, he saw large groups of people fill up the sidewalk as hundreds of cars poured onto the road, everybody eager to reach home after their workday.

"What do you mean sire?"

"The scales of the world have been tipped unevenly, Maw. Balance needs to be restored to the order of the planet. The rich can't have an endless supply of luxury while the poor scramble for basic sustenance. She was right, we need to help the poor, but we can't wipe out those in power completely."

Thanos looked at the setting sun with determination, "It is time to kill half of humanity."

Maw inhaled sharply, "Sire! How would we manage-"

"The drugs," said Thanos simply, "50% of our cargo will contain lethal drugs till we achieve our target. Distribute it randomly throughout our supply chain for the next 6 months."

Maw paused for a moment. The severity of this crime left him dumbstruck. "Sire," he spoke at last, "She wouldn't have wanted this."

Thanos looked at the 6 rings on his fingers. "She wanted to live Maw. But she couldn't. She always tried to help people as much as she could. This is the only way we can fulfill her wish, by helping people across the globe."

"By killing people across the globe," Maw meekly argued.

"You kill everyday for a living Maw. Why has this idea turned your silver tongue into a knot?"

He could only gulp in response.

"The world needs correction Maw. Now more than ever. The lethal drugs should be shipped from tomorrow onwards. I would find it unpleasant to feed your body to our dogs, if you fail your duty," Thanos' thinly veiled threat hung in the air like a sword.

Maw bowed down, "As my sire wishes," and left the room in quite a hurry.

Thanos walked towards your painting on the wall opposite to his bed, the only ornamentation in his otherwise desolate room.

"You will see my love," he cooed, "we will see the sun rise on a grateful world together."

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

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zackcollins · 4 years ago

Text

every time our eyes meet || jack campbell

masterlist

Author’s Note: Hi, everyone! I’m back with another fic! I’ve been really inspired to write recently because it’s been helping me cope with the stress I’ve been feeling from everything surrounding quarantine and all that. I may yet post a few more fics but we’ll see how I feel over the next little while. GIF credit to mitchmarner!

Warnings: Nothing, I don’t think. Let me know if you see something though and I’ll add a warning for it!

Word Count: 4.2k+

Title: Amazed by Lonestar

Additional: Masculine reader this time! The reader is also mentioned to be the starting goaltender for the Leafs, so do with that what you will. I know masculine reader fics aren’t generally as popular in the hockey fandom but I wanted to write this for the few of you masculine peeps that are out there (myself sorta included) as a way to show that there are fics for you to enjoy as well. Your love and support would mean the world to me because I like knowing that I’m doing a good job. That being said, I hope you guys enjoy this!

When you walked into the arena for practice that morning, there was a vase with roses and a stuffed Carlton at your locker. You felt your entire face turn scarlet to match the roses. There was a card attached to the vase. It simply read: “Red roses to match the red hair -J.” You blushed harder and felt the tips of your ears heat up. You always got complimented on your red hair but this was another level.

“Roses? You got a hot date you want to impress?” You flinched in surprise because you hadn’t heard anyone else enter.

“Someone sent them to me,” you said in the same breath it took to turn to face whoever was behind you. You blinked when you noticed that it was Michael Hutchinson, the “new” goalie the team had acquired. “They sent a stuffed Carlton too.” You reached down and picked up the aforementioned bear to show Michael.

Michael smiled as he walked across the room. “Do a lot of girls send you roses and teddy bears? You don’t seem that phased.”

“That happens when you play for the Maple Leafs,” you chuckled. “Personally, I li--”

“(Y/N) got roses and I didn’t?!” You and Michael turned to see Mitch, Auston, Willy, and Zach walk in. Mitch had an indignant look on his face.

“Star goaltenders get the best things, Mitchy,” you responded. Michael chuckled at the feigned look of hurt Mitch shot back at you. “Maybe if you become a goalie and the backbone of this franchise, people will send you roses.”

Willy laughed hard enough that he nearly dropped his Starbucks. Zach grabbed it from him to prevent that. Auston sighed, shook his head, and waved a dismissive hand at what had unfolded in front of him before he went to his locker to get changed for practice. Mitch pouted as he walked past you. He stared you down with fake sad eyes the entire time. You sighed and grabbed a rose from the vase. You walked over to Mitch and gracefully handed it to him. Mitch lit up significantly.

“Thank you, King (Y/L/N), of The Toronto Maple Leafs,” Mitch giggled.

You ruffled Mitch’s hair before you walked back over to your locker. Michael looked at you thoughtfully before he went to his locker to change into his goalie equipment. Soon after, the rest of the guys filtered in and started to dress for practice. Keefe came in shortly thereafter and gave a brief speech about readiness and accountability before everyone was ushered onto the ice to begin the practice drills.

You had sustained an injury the previous week and were still to be dressed in a light contact jersey. The medical staff had been cleared to wear it when you first arrived at the arena that morning. The next thing you did was find the roses and the stuffed Carlton. Today had been a good day for (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

You and Jack were in the goalie corner while Michael took shots from the skaters. Jack leaned over and nudged you. You turned your attention away from the drills and looked at Jack.

“Am I still the only one that knows?” Jack asked, voice quiet.

“You’re gonna need to elaborate on that, Soupy,” you replied, voice full of confusion.

“That it’s easier than people think to score on your five-hole.”

You choked on his saliva. “Jack. Holy fuck.”

“Curse me all you want. Nobody heard me.” Jack vaguely gestured with his blocker in front of the two of you to prove that nobody had turned to look in your direction.

He waited for a beat. “Well?”

You sighed and put your head in your glove. “Yes,” you mumbled; you only wanted Jack to hear you.

When you looked back, Jack had gone to the net to face his shots. Michael stood there instead, looking rather confused.

“Fucking hell,” you mumbled, dropping your head into your glove again.

Micheal looked at you lopsidedly, bringing his glove up and placing it on your shoulder.

“What did Soupy say to you that had you so damn flustered?” Micheal asked, keeping his voice hushed.

You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut in the process. “‘It’s easier than people think to score on your five-hole.’”

Michael blinked and looked at you owlishly as he dropped his glove from your shoulder. “You’re a goalie. You should talk to the goalie coach when you get the chance. He can help you fix that.”

Dumbfounded, you didn’t push the subject further. You didn’t understand how Michael didn’t realize what you actually meant. He was a grown man. He had certainly heard that joke before. On the same token, you were grateful that Michael didn’t understand. You didn’t want Michael to potentially have a negative reaction in front of the entire team if he didn’t like what the joke meant.

The conversation quickly shifted. You talked with Michael about what he wanted to do while the team was on this three-game homestand against Vancouver. Though, you both knew there wasn’t exactly much you could do. Given the whole provincial lockdown and the NHL’s own set of rules and restrictions on the matter.

“Why don’t you come to my house tonight for dinner,” you smiled. “It’ll be an official welcome to the city and team kind of thing.”

Micheal blinked before a faint smile pulled across his lips. “Yeah. I’d like that. As long as it won’t get us in trouble.”

You smiled before you went to take your turn at the goaltender drills. The shots you faced were less intense and further between one and the next. The guys wanted to be cautious; your injury had been a neck injury and neck injuries weren’t to be messed with. You made some saves and didn’t make others. You didn’t want to overwork yourself and put any unneeded stress on your neck muscles. You needed to be ready to play this week against Vancouver.

By the time practice was over, you felt great. You went straight to the medical staff for examination as you had done after all of the practices since your injury. The examination was brief and to the point. The team doctor said your neck had progressed well and that you were ready to go for the next game. However, the doctor wanted to play it safe and wait until at least the game after that before he would allow you to start. You wanted to be angry, but you knew the doctor had made the right decision. You had hurt your neck and it had to be healed completely before you attempted to play again; it was better to be safe than sorry.

You walked out of the trainer’s room and back to the locker room. Most of the guys were in the showers and the room felt empty. You trudged to your locker with your head down. You felt dejected after the news the team doctor had given you. You stopped three feet from your locker when you saw a box of chocolate and a bag of cinnamon hearts where your glove, your blocker, and your helmets should go. You lightened up a little at that.

You turned around and noticed that Spezza, Muzzin, and Simmonds were all still at their lockers.

“Did any of you see who put the chocolate and candy in my locker?”

Simmonds looked up from his left skate. He shook his head.

“No, sorry, man.” He looked back down at his skate and continued to fiddle with the lace.

“I was the last one in here before you,” Spezza said, “and it was already in there when I walked past.”

You looked at Muzzin pointedly. The look you received told you that the defenceman knew something. Muzzin shook his head and turned his thumb and forefinger at the corner of his mouth.

With a sigh, you turned around and stepped the remaining three feet towards your locker. You carefully examined the chocolate and candy. You blinked when you realized it was your favourite European chocolate. Even cinnamon hearts were your guilty pleasure this time of year. Whoever had sent this had paid attention when you talked about yourself. The team nutritionist and the conditioning coach would both hate you when you ate these but what were you if you weren't human?

You quickly showered and changed. You wanted to get home to eat the sweets while you planned what to make for dinner when Michael came over that night. You walked to your car while you tossed around ideas for meals in your head.

Chicken, pasta, and peas? Fish, rice, and broccoli? Steak, potatoes, and carrots? You knew you would have bread rolls regardless because you had baked some while you had been injured to keep yourself busy. (You had taken up baking as a hobby to keep sane during quarantine and you had enjoyed it so you had decided to stick with it).

When you unlocked your car, you decided on the chicken for dinner. You had a nice sauce recipe that you had learned from your mother that you could use. When you opened the door of your car, you froze. On the other side of the car, there was a bottle of wine. You sat on the driver’s seat, closed the door, and reached for the bottle. When it was in your hands, you nearly dropped it when you saw what kind of wine it was.

“I can’t even pronounce that, but I know it’s expensive,” you mumbled.

You took out your phone and snapped a picture of the bottle. You contemplated whether to send the picture to Michael. Should you give him a heads up that there would be wine at dinner? After a moment, you decided it would be a wise decision.

(Y/L/N) 13:09

To: Hutchinson

(image attached)

Someone left me another present. This time in my car. Guess we're having wine with dinner tonight.

It took a few minutes, but your phone pinged with a reply from Michael.

(Y/L/N) 13:13

From: Hutchinson

Holy fucking shit. That’s a really expensive wine. Someone likes you, dude.

(Y/L/N) 13:14

To: Hutchinson

When I got to my locker, someone had left me a box of my favourite chocolate and a bag of cinnamon hearts.

(Y/L/N) 13:16

From: Hutchinson

This girl must work for the team if she has such easy access to everything.

You bit your lip. You didn’t think it was a girl. There weren’t many girls that worked for the team and none of the staff would’ve grabbed your keys from your bag so they could slip the wine into your car. You thought--knew--it was one of the other players. You took a deep breath before you changed your mind and started to type exactly that to Michael.

(Y/L/N) 13:19

To: Hutchinson

There aren’t that many girls that work for the team. I also know the staff wouldn’t go through my bag for my keys to open my car. I think it’s one of the players that’s leaving me all of this stuff.

The three dots appeared and disappeared several times. It made you nervous. You hadn’t come out but you had told Michael that you suspected one of your very male teammates had left you all of the presents. You hoped that hadn’t overstepped some boundary that Michael had.

Finally, your phone pinged with a message from Michael after what felt like an eternity.

(Y/L/N) 13:27

From: Hutchinson

Are you bothered by that?

(Y/L/N) 13:28

To: Hutchinson

“It’s easier than people think to score on my five-hole.”

You decided to reiterate that to see if Michael got it this time with a different context.

(Y/L/N) 13:30

From: Hutchinson

Oh. You’re gay? I’m sorry for completely fucking that up before... :(

Does anyone else know?

(Y/L/N) 13:32

To: Hutchinson

Just Soupy. He found me making out with a guy in a bar bathroom in Ottawa on Valentine's Day last year.

If that guy was Soupy… well. That’s for you and Soupy to know and everyone else to know when you two decided that the time was right.

The dots appeared and disappeared a few times before another message from Michael came through. You almost dropped your phone when you read it.

(Y/L/N) 13:36

From: Hutchinson

Soupy told me he was pansexual already. Said I should know because of goalie solidarity or some shit like that. In which case: I feel I should tell you I’m bisexual. ⚥ ♡

(Y/L/N) 13:38

To: Hutchinson

Thank you for telling me. It’s good to know that the starting goaltender has both of his backups in his crease.

(Y/L/N) 13:39

From: Hutchinson

Maybe Soupy was onto something when he said we should have goalie solidarity.

If you ask me, the three of us being attracted to men sounds pretty solidarity worthy.

(Y/L/N) 13:40

To: Hutchinson

You make a valid point there, Hutch. An extremely valid point.

Though, I feel like I should tell you Soupy didn’t find out I was gay because he walked in on me making out with some guy in an Ottawa bar bathroom.

(Y/L/N) 13:42

From: Hutchinson

How did he find out then?

(Y/L/N) 13:43

To: Hutchinson

He was actually who I was making out with. We got a little drunk (him more so than me) and he backed me against the bathroom door. We talked about it the next morning and officially came out to each other.

Oh. Oh. That’s when it dawned on you. The card with the roses. Muzzin’s silence. How the wine got in your car. You knew exactly who had left you all of these presents. You had to go talk to him right now.

(Y/L/N) 13:45

To: Hutchinson

I figured out who left all the presents for me. I have to go talk to him. Be over for dinner by 19:00.

(Y/L/N) 13:45

From: Hutchinson

That’s awesome! Go get your man! ;D

You put the wine safely in the centre console of your car and buckled your seatbelt. You pulled out of the player’s garage and into downtown Toronto traffic. You cursed under your breath as you dealt with the gridlock to your destination.

You decided that you would stop at a confectionery to purchase some white chocolate fudge and black licorice before heading to visit the man that had left you all of the presents. Those two sweets were his favourite sweets. If he could give you presents, you felt it was only fair to give him presents.

When you were finished picking out the sweets, you made your way to the checkout counter. There were some Valentine’s cards sitting on a display beside the register; you picked the cheesiest one you saw. You quickly filled it out with a personal message before wiping the pen down with the provided sanitary wipes.

“She must be special if you got her fudge and licorice,” the clerk chuckled.

“She is,” you smiled, though you weren’t sure if the clerk could decipher that behind your mask, “trust me. I’m headed to the flower shop next door to get a bouquet of tulips and lilies for her too. Those are her favourite.”

The clerk gave you a fond look with his eyes when he handed you the paper bag with the purchases. You smiled again, again not sure if the clerk could decipher if you were or not (though you weren’t all that pressed to know if he could or couldn’t tell), as you walked out of the confectionery and to the flower shop next door. The store was, unsurprisingly, rather empty even though Valentine’s Day was right around the corner. You supposed that’s what a provincial lockdown did for business, even in what was supposed to be a busy season for flower shops.

A florist noticed you by the tulips and walked over to you. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

You pointed at the tulips and then gestured towards the lilies behind you.

“Would it be possible to make a bouquet of tulips and lilies? I have someone I have to impress and they like those two the most.”

The florist smiled, her mask crinkling at the corners. She walked over to the table at the back of the store and grabbed the pruners and some bouquet paper.

“How many of each did you want?”

“Three tulips and six lilies," you smiled, pleased with yourself for the subtle symbolism you made there. "Oh! One red rose too. They gave me roses today and I want to show that I appreciated them.” You felt the tips of your ears burn. It had been a long time since you had bought someone flowers and you hoped that this would go over well.

The florist smiled again, her mask falling down her face a little as she collected the flowers. She readjusted her mask before she directed you to the counter to pay.

“Sir?” You had been halfway to the door but you turned back to look a the florist. She had a soft expression in her eyes and her fingers were drumming against the countertop in front of her. “He’ll love them.”

“How did you--” You cut yourself off, not even sure you wanted to know the answer.

“I’ve done this for a long time,” the florist chuckled. “You can tell who people want to buy for if you pay attention. Even if they don’t directly tell you.” She smiled faintly. “Go make it official with your man.”

You felt your face heat up as you hurried out of the store to your car. You carefully placed the bouquet and the bag with the sweets on the passenger’s seat before you buckled your seatbelt, tossing your mask in the glove box. You collected yourself as you drove the short distance to the building you needed.

You exhaled heavily as you collected the bag and bouquet before you got out of the car. The doorman didn’t bat an eyelash when he saw you walk past with flowers. The doorman never interfered with you when you came here.

In the elevator, you felt a knot form in your stomach. You had rarely been nervous in your life; you weren't sure why this made you nervous. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was as confident in love as you were in the net. You never feared love and commitment. A committed boyfriend that understood the demands of hockey was the one thing you wanted besides hockey itself. The guy that sent you all the presents was a hockey player. He would understand the demands of a hockey career completely.

The elevator opened on the floor you needed. You swallowed thickly and began the walk to the right door. It was towards the end of the hall which gave you plenty of time to back out of this. Before you even thought to change your mind, you were at the right door. You gathered yourself before you knocked sharply. You heard feet shuffle across the hardwood floor in the foyer before the door opened.

“Jesus. I almost thought you’d never figure it out,” Jack chuckled as he stepped aside to let you in.

You toed off your shoes and put them on the mat by the door. You handed the bag and the bouquet to Jack who smiled fondly.

“These for me?” Jack asked, sniffing the flowers.

You nodded as you stripped off your coat and hung it on the coat rack.

Jack smiled and directed you to follow him to the living room. You followed him, wringing your hands together nervously as you went.

“Lilies and tulips… (Y/N)... I got you red roses because your hair is red. You got me my favourite flowers." Jack's voice sounded strained. “And a single red rose? You're a true romantic under all of that gruff goaltending exterior, I see.”

You felt your entire body increase in temperature at that compliment. You even blushed like a schoolgirl with a crush. (Which wasn’t far from the truth, but that was neither here nor there.) Jack seemed to notice the uneven tone of your skin because he chuckled and playfully punched your shoulder.

“You should blush more. It looks good on you.”

You gasped and covered it up with a cough. If Jack noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Jack handed the bouquet back to you when you arrived in the living room. He quickly disappeared into the kitchen and just as quickly returned with a vase full of water. He placed the vase on the coffee table, took the flowers from you, discarded the bouquet paper in the bin beside the couch, and placed the flowers in the vase.

Jack sat on the couch beside you and reached for the bag next. He grabbed the card out first. He looked at the outside of the card and chuckled dismissively.

“’I love you, Barrie much!’ Really?”

“Tyson was a really good friend of yours. I wanted to keep him with us somehow since I know you miss him." You ducked your head and mumbled the last part.

When you looked back at Jack he was frozen. After a moment, Jack blinked and opened the card. He scanned the message and then looked at you. He placed the card on the coffee table beside the vase.

“That’s thoughtful, thank you.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Jack reached into the bag and pulled out the licorice and the fudge at the same time. You could see the tears before Jack even looked at you.

“(Y/N)... you...” Jack finally looked at you. That confirmed that he had tear streaks down his cheeks. “You went to my favourite confectionery.”

You blinked once. Twice. Three times. “I did? I went there because it was the one closest to your apartment.”

Jack nodded furiously. He placed the fudge and licorice on the coffee table. “I used to go there all the time as a kid when my parents would bring me to see the Tigers play away games at Rogers Centre. That’s why I’m glad I’m back here. I can go there whenever I want to.” Jack still had a few stray tears but they had stopped for the most part. “This specific brand of white chocolate fudge is my favourite too. Thank you so much, (Y/N).”

A smile crept across your face.

“You should thank Michael. He’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“Hutchison?” Jack tilted his head. “What did he do that brought you here?”

“I came out to him, for starters.”

Jack grinned and reached his hand out to squeeze your shoulder. The way that touch made your body feel was electric. You shivered. Jack smiled and squeezed you again before he took his hand away. You shivered again.

“He asked if anyone else knew,” you continued. “You know the answer to that.”

Jack nodded. “Just me,” he paused. “Kinda hard not to know when we played tonsil hockey with each other.”

“I told him that too.” You ducked his head.

A hand came out and tilted your head up. Jack didn’t look mad at all.

“It’s okay, (Y/N). When I came out to him, I explained that I wanted to leave these presents for you. He’s the only one I could trust not to say anything since he was so new to the team. It worked even better that he’s a goalie and part of the community himself.”

“Why did Muzzin know then?”

“The cinnamon hearts fell out of my bag when I walked into the arena this morning. He was the only other one there and picked them up for me. He agreed to help me if I told him which of you guys it was.”

You smiled. “When I told Michael that it was you I made out with, it made me realize: J meant Jack, Muzzin didn’t say anything because you’re my best friend and he's your best friend, and the wine got in my car so easily because you have the spare key.”

A smile crept across Jack's face and he chuckled. Jack still had your chin in his hand. You thought you had the perfect solution for that. You leaned forward until you were a couple of inches away from Jack. Jack's breath was warm on your face and it sent chills through your body.

“Would you like to do this properly now?” You swallowed nervously.

The only response you got from Jack was his lips on your own. Your lips moved fluidly together and your hands started to roam across each other’s bodies.

When you broke apart for air, you both panted heavily. You marvelled at how swollen, shiny, and red Jack's lips looked.

That’s from me. You thought. All from me.

“I have to go have dinner with Michael tonight,” you paused,” but would you like to order dinner on Wednesday? As a date?”

“Of course,” Jack smiled. “Anything for my star goaltender boyfriend.”

Boyfriend.

You could get used to hearing that.

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effieduan · 4 years ago

Text

GIVE RIO JOB 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 | Rio & Effie

TIMING: Present

LOCATION: Vulpine Voltage Repairs

PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @effieduan

SUMMARY: Rio’s ability to afford groceries is called into question.

CONTENT: No Triggers!

Effie sat at the counter, tinkering with a giant black box. It was a monster, a dinosaur, and an absolute disgrace to modern computers. But Florence wanted it back in suitable working condition because it was “so simple”. Effie learned early on in this business that it was important to give the customer what they wanted -- even if she thought she could give them a better experience. Florence was elderly, and she could understand wanting things to stay the way they were. And truthfully, after Effie was done with this big old dinosaur, there wouldn’t be much to complain about other than its size and heavy weight -- that reminded her. She would have to schedule a drop off at Florence’s apartment. Watching the little old woman waddle in carrying that thing had almost given her a heart attack. She was working on replacing the cooling fan when she heard the door jingle as someone entered.

She would have preferred to be in the back sitting in her workshop, but that meant she would have to constantly be getting up from her work to come out front whenever a customer came. Annoying. She poked her head up over the harddrive to get a look at her customer. “Just a second,” she said, swiftly hopping off the stool, placing her tools on the counter, and grabbing her lime-green gloves. She looked at the boy. College student, most likely. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Did something break?”

In a lot of ways, a shop like this should make Orion feel right at home. Ever since he was old enough, he practically lived on his computer if he wasn’t reading. Nowadays, he did a lot of his reading on the computer anyways, with the scribe archive coming along. It was slowly but surely growing, and Rio was starting to find it easier to find information through the database instead of skimming through the books like he always had to before. Of course, there were probably thousands of books still unaccounted for, but he had tried to prioritize to get some of the most common books translated first.

If his pastimes weren’t enough, then his old second major made a shop like this feel even more familiar. Computer science had always felt like more of a means to an end than an actual passion, but he had still picked up on a few things in the first two years before he had dropped it to focus on history and mythology. After all, the groundwork for the database had already been built thanks to Winston’s help. That was what Rio had wanted the degree for in the first place.

Now, Rio just needed work. Money wasn’t exactly tight. His parents had left behind a generous amount split between himself and Athena, and despite the size and grandeur of the home that he currently lived in, his living expenses were surprisingly cheap. Perks of only paying utilities he supposed. Still, a steady income wouldn’t hurt. And despite the change in majors, Rio still knew enough about technology that a place like this could be a potential job option. If they were hiring that was. “Hey there.” Rio gave a small wave when the woman behind the counter spoke to him and slid closer to the counter. His fingers began tapping against it rhythmically as he considered his words, “Nope. Nothing broken here. Not technology anyways” Rio rattled off, letting his words slowly fade as he realized this was not the best conversation starter, “I was actually just wondering if you knew if this place was hiring? I’m sort of looking for employment.”

Effie stared at Rio, mouth opening slightly in surprise. “... Employment…” Effie said slowly, as if she didn’t quite understand. Truth be told, she didn’t understand. She was quite clear that she was not looking for any other staff for her store, even if Eva told her she was being ridiculous because she would get so much more work done if she had someone watching the front counter while she sat and worked on orders in the back. And what did this boy mean by nothing broken - at least not technology. Was that a Gen Z thing? Was she so old that she was starting to call things gen z things? Was she going to rage war on middle parts and baggy jeans next? Effie had to shake herself out her head, reminding herself she was going to live long enough to see Gen Z 10.0, to stare at the boy. He was… Skinny. And polite enough. Effie’s snarky comment of why didn’t you check the website’s F.A.Q before coming in here died on her lips. “Uh -- “ Effie coughed. “I own this store,” she said. “My name is Effie Duan. And I’m not - I mean, I’m not really looking for employees.”

The woman, who turns out was the owner of the store, didn’t seem especially thrilled about the idea of Orion asking if she was hiring. Apparently, that wasn’t something she did a lot of. Or maybe at all. Rio had passed by the store on a few occasions, had only actually popped inside once or twice to check the place out, but he clearly remembered her face from each visit. Did she have any other employees, or was she running this place all by herself? “Oh! That’s awesome. Hi there. My name’s Rio. Technically it’s Orion, but nobody calls me that except my family.” Rio exclaimed, holding a hand out towards the woman as a means of introduction. He quickly backtracked to correct himself, “Er- well I guess my family used to call me that. Now nobody really does.” Well that was awkward. Definitely not the greatest first impression. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you or anything.” Rio bit at his lip. Well there went another option. Was he cursed to live on his family’s money in that oversized home forever? Could that even be counted as a curse? “Do you uh- run this place all by yourself? Because that’s crazy impressive. How do you have time to do everything?”

Effie’s gaze shot down to the hand he outstretched to her as if it was going to bite her. She did not like contact, especially with humans. Well, especially with anyone. Still, that’s why she wore the gloves. They were the solution and the reason she could be around people. Effie quickly recovered and reached out to shake his hand, hoping he didn’t mind the feeling of rubber. “Orion,” she said. “Rio.” Only his family called him Orion -- had called him… Something flashed in Effie’s memory about the doctor and business owner that were brutally murdered, leaving behind their children. She didn’t remember the girl’s name, but she did remember Orion because it had been one of Eva’s favorite constellations growing up. Then again, Eva’s favorite constellation changed every week - maybe she just remembered Orion because she would get poked in the side with a stick shrieking and giggling. Now that was a reason Effie never wanted to have kids. Her demeanor softened though, realizing that this kid was on his own now. She felt that familiar, heavy feeling in her chest -- like whenever she looked at a frustrated old woman who just wanted her dinosaur hard drive fixed or a man that just wanted a stupid gaming system repaired because it meant a lot to his father. Effie cursed under her breath, straightening slightly. How hard must it have been to have your parents murdered and now had to provide for himself?

“You’re not a bother, Rio,” she said shortly. “It’s just - I mean, I do run this place by myself. It’s my store - my business, I mean. I’m open Monday through Friday, from 9-5 and then on Saturday’s from 9-12.” Officially, at least. More often than not, she was here, open late or early because it wasn’t like she did much. “So … Well…” Effie looked at Rio. God, could he afford groceries? He was so skinny! “What - What experience do you have?” she asked, lamely.

Orion tilted his head curiously as Effie repeated his name, followed by his nickname to him. “That’s me.” Rio responded quietly, trying to figure out what Effie was thinking about. Clearly something was processing. She was still looking up towards him, but she wasn’t meeting his gaze, instead staring past it. She must have been lost in her thoughts, the same way Rio did. “That sounds busy.” Rio agreed, listening to her hectic schedule. While RIo tried to keep himself busy too, none of his hobbies were exactly time sensitive besides his classes. She was bound to this schedule to run a business. Owning a business in general was way more stress than Rio thought he could handle. Being the sole employee was another thing entirely. She surprised him when she asked about his experience. Hadn’t she just said that they weren’t hiring? “Oh well uh-” Rio considered her question. Technically, he didn’t have much. Not officially. “Well I used to be a double major with computer science as one of those. I’m still a double major, just not computer science anymore. But I learned quite a bit in the first couple of years. I’m pretty decent when it comes to like coding and stuff.” Rio scratched at his neck nervously. It wasn’t like he could exactly show off the database he and Winston had built. Not without looking completely insane. “And I also worked as an assistant in my old job, taking calls and talking to people that came in. It uh- burnt down last year.”

Gears were churning in Effie’s mind as she stared at Rio. He certainly had a series of unfortunate events happen to him. Parents murdered and his job burnt down. Other than making sure some poor college kid could afford groceries, she would get her sisters off her back. It wasn’t only Eva that thought she worked too much. Not to mention if this kid could code, he was likely smart enough to learn how to fix phone screens and the like so she didn't have to waste time with those while she worked on her larger products. Not to mention, if she didn’t have to answer the phone or talk to people… Temptation was something Effie learned not to engage with a long time ago because it only led to disappointment and more self loathing than she could handle. What would she do about this kid’s safety? Make him wear gloves? “A couple of years in computer science is certainly better than nothing,” Effie said finally. “What do you study now?” That seemed like a decent question to ask. She could put him in a full rubber suit, though she wondered if that would be considered cruel and unusual punishment. It wasn’t like the feds would believe it was just her version of wrapping him in bubblewrap.

But how many incidents did she have in her shop? She was comfortable here in her shop and her apartment. Other than making the lights flash when frustrated, she never had done anything dangerous. The danger happened when she inevitably had to go outside. “Look, Rio,” Effie started. “I think -- Why don’t we try it out?” The words fell out of her mouth, surprising herself that she was going through with it. “Obviously, you’re a college student, and I don’t expect you to work all the hours my store is open. We can adjust to your schedule so you can have a healthy class life and social life as well as adequate free time to decompress.” Now she sounded like Eva, who frequently lectured her about what it was like to actually live. Not an option for her. She looked at Rio, before remembering something. “Oh, and I should… Probably check your references.”

#wickedswriting #para #para rio #rio

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woojomow · 5 years ago

Text

Remembering

In which Marinette forgets and remembers who she is

Marinette awoke with a start. Colors and blurry faces swam before her eyes as she desperately grasped at the wisps of memories she couldn’t quite recall. It had been a little over a month since she had given up her title as Guardian (Or so she was told. She couldn’t remember), and ghosts of memories and people and places haunted her dreams like words on the tip of her tongue.

Whatever she had been dreaming about had woken her entirely, and she knew that to attempt more sleep would be foolish. She threw on her coat and scarf and crept down the stairs to avoid waking her parents before emerging into the night. The February air nipped at her nose and she was startled to hear snow crunching under her feet as she walked. She moved without purpose as her thoughts fought for her attention. The past month stood out sharply against the fog that shrouded much of her mind. She had found herself at the foot of the Eiffel Tower on a late January night, with a distraught looking boy at her side. He introduced himself as Adrien in a thick, strained sort of voice and asked if she felt quite all right. It struck her as odd, because why wouldn’t she be okay, other than a maddening sense of having just forgotten something? And then she realized it wasn’t just something. It felt like part of her had been stripped away, only she couldn’t figure out what she had lost. Panic had risen into her throat and threatened to spill over as words tumbled out of her mouth.

“Who am I? What am I doing here? I know you. How do I know you?” Adrien had given her a look full of an emotion she had never been able to quite place before taking a deep breath. Scattered pieces started to fall into place as he spoke. Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her parents owned the bakery that she helped out at from time to time. She was a design student at University. She had a secret identity and fought crime as Ladybug with Adrien, who said he was someone called Chat Noir. She had been Guardian of the Miraculous Box for several years, but finally decided to give it up after realizing the toll it had taken on her life and relationships. Relationships. Despite her decision to give up being this so-called guardian, everything felt slightly lopsided. She knew her parents and Alya and Nino and a lot of her classmates in a weird distorted way, like looking at a reflection in a window. There, but not entirely real. She relied on what others told her about themselves and attempted to put together the puzzle pieces of what her life had been. Her thoughts slowed as she realized where she was. Her feet had unknowingly taken her to her thinking park. Small and hidden away in a square behind some row houses, she had found it after a particularly frustrating day of not remembering. She sat down on her favorite bench and closed her eyes. If she listened carefully, she imagined she could hear the snow landing on the hedges around her. Marinette opened her eyes at the sound of snow crunching and was only mildly surprised to see Adrien standing in front of her. Throughout all of the craziness and uncertainty, she knew without hesitation that she could rely on Adrien. His presence comforted her in a way nobody else’s could. He never forced his company on her, but she always sought him out first when her brain felt foggy and he was always there. Something within the very fiber of her being inexplicably gravitated towards him, but she wasn’t about to complain. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked as he sat down next to her. “No... The dreams keep happening, Adrien. I don’t know what I’ve forgotten, but I know that whatever those experiences were, they’re fundamental in shaping whoever I was before all of this. I’m so tired of not knowing and I’m so tired of feeling like part of me is missing.” She sighed and buried her face in her hands. A moment passed as her words hung heavy in the air before she looked up at him. “Like you. I know you’re important to me but I want to know how. It scares me because it feels like my heart knows so much about you but I can’t fill all the blanks leading up to that point.” “I...there’s so much I wish I could tell you.” Adrien hesitated before continuing. “There are memories and feelings and emotions I wish I could transplant directly from my head to yours. But I don’t think that it would be the same as you experiencing it all firsthand on your own. I want you to be free to make your own decisions based off of how you are, right now, in this moment. And not off of how things used to be before.” His breath caught in his throat as Marinette laid her head on his shoulder. Memories from the not so distant past flooded his mind as he longed for something he could never bring himself to ask of her without her first knowing it of her own volition. “Thank you. For being here for me and being patient. I’m really trying to move forward. I promise,” Marinette exhaled. They sat in silence like that for a little before she spoke up again. “How did we meet Adrien? I can at least know that about us, right?” A chuckle reverberated through his chest before he began. “It was early September, and I was fourteen. It was my first day of public school and I remember being terrified because I so badly wanted to make a good first impression. Summer was desperately trying to hold on, and I was sweating so much from nerves and the heat that my bodyguard gave me extra deodorant. “I had researched the school and memorized the whole layout so I wouldn’t look like an idiot asking for directions. There were so many people and everything just felt so alive. For the first time in my life I was free from the sterile walls of my home and the dull lectures of my tutors. “I walked into the classroom and the first thing I noticed was you. But not in a bad way. You were surrounded by people and smiling. I was so caught up in it all, I missed our teacher introducing herself to me. “Chloé put gum in your seat and tried to blame it on me, and for almost the whole day, I think you believed her. You wouldn’t talk to me or make eye contact at least. I wanted to win your approval so badly though and I was willing to do anything to get back in your graces.” “You’re making me feel like I was actually there too,” Marinette said wistfully. “You were though! Make it part of your story too.” She hesitated “It was hot that day, right?” “Right.” “There were students everywhere. Everyone was so excited to see their friends after the summer holiday. The air felt electric.” “Yes!” Marinette was sitting up straighter now, intent on spinning her own story. Even if it was one she couldn’t remember. “The classroom felt stuffy, and all our classmates were trickling in. I was sitting next to Alya I’m sure. I don’t remember the gum, but I probably stared daggers into the back of your head all afternoon. “Then...the sky got darker, didn’t it? And we were two of the last people to leave school because I was caught up in the library trying to rewrite my notes and you were trying to sign up for every extracurricular under the sun. I thought that maybe I could make it home before it started pouring but I was wrong because by the time I reached the front steps I was already close to soaked. I remember thinking something along the lines of ‘Of course the perfect model wouldn’t want to ruin his expensive clothes with an umbrella. How perfectly selfish to at least not offer to share with me.’ And then...and then you turned around and you gave me your umbrella and just smiled.” Adrien was staring dumbfounded at Marinette. “I didn’t tell you that.” “You didn’t have to.” Her eyes shone with tears as the overwhelming feeling of a puzzle piece she had created all by herself finally clicked into place. No longer was she shoving pieces into place that had been awkwardly cut by others. She had done it all by herself and it felt incredible. She took a steadying breath before continuing. “Your hand brushed mine when you handed me the umbrella and there was a bolt of lightning and everything around us buzzed with life and electricity. I felt my heart skip a beat. But it all was ruined because that stupid umbrella closed on me. UGH I’m such a klutz.” She buried her face in her hands again. Adrien felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He felt dizzy with the overwhelming realization that she was REMEMBERING. She wasn’t fabricating a reality painted by other people. Her world was coming back in vivid colors that only his Marinette could paint with. “My lady?” he whispered in tentatively. He wasn’t sure what to do. How much did she remember? Did she know about them being together? Did she remember that he had been Chat Noir?

Marinette looked up at his voice. “My prince?”

I’m in no way formally trained as a writer and it’s just a hobby, but this has banging around in my head for ages and I wanted to put it somewhere

#adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #memory loss #remembering #drabble #fluff

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sunareii · 4 years ago

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WC; 1, 512

suna could only frown deeply at the seemingly bigoted old fart infront of him who continues to create one of the last thing he wanted; a ruckus, and just by the market of all places

he would have shut the man up if he didn't keep cutting off every phrase he has to say. suna is never the yell-type of person if ever in the argument, he thinks shouting at them or throwing a fit will only please them as it could be the reaction some people wanted to see and he's not surely the person to give in.

you're probably confused by this so let me give you a little flashback;

the sun had rose high enough that it wouldn't be called sunrise anymore and yet the two of them, suna and some mysterious girl around his age, proceeds to gaze deeply into each others eyes. if you didn't knew better you'd say it was love at first sight but considering the looks on their faces, i'd say they were judging each other

is the bird nest hair a thing?'

'are those scratches?'

'is she even wearing a bra underneath?'

suna deadpanned at her for a moment before turning his back to her an walked away. he got home momentarily, if you ask me he likely walked to the right directions by chance and suna himself, was also surprised by this involuntary achievement

"oh, rin! great timing, senzo was just about to go to the market just around the street, why don't you go along with him?" suna knew his mother won't give him a choice, don't you just hate it when you're being forced to get to know someone without your approval

anyhow, senzo was already waiting outside the house whereas suna hadn't had the chance to even take off his shoes. they strode on the concrete ground at the side of the street uncomfortably quiet, senzo took on a brave face and opted to have a small talk despite him not being a fan of bootless pleasantries

"so rintarou.. what-what do you like to do for fun?" he asked, stuttering within his sentence, suna stared at him for a second,

'what i like to do for fun? as in with friends or by myself?'

"i like playing volleyball" suna muttered, not that satisfied with his answer, "oh, that explains your great physique then, you like playing sports" senzo whispered feeling a bit fretful, suna examined his body figure and one thing he noticed about them when he saw him was his scrawny structure, lanky unlike him.

"how about you?"

"huh?"

"what do you like to do?"

'he seems to be the type to just play games, explore the media or probably a chess master'

"i like.. uhm.. wa.. ve.. and.. s-swing" senzo murmured as if he was only talking to himself, clearly shamefaced. suna tried to be attentive as he didn't heard him right and thought of anything that sounds like wave or swing..

'swing in the playground maybe? no, swing, swing.. sing?that could be it but what about wave? save? behave? ew, who does that for fun? shave...?'

"you like to sing?" he asked mindlessly, senzo could only stummer and said "what no.. my voice is too shaky for that, i like sewing and weaving.." suna didn't noticed it but senzo tried to sound nonchalant when he told him about his hobbies

'uhh.. is he a grandma?'

"i like all sorts of stuff actually along with photography and gardening, i guess" at that point, senzo couldn't find himself to look at him in the eye and his fathers voice lingers in his head saying;

'always look at people in the eye when talking to them!'

"we're here" senzo informed, it wasn't crowded seeing as it was early in the morning, "you go get the vegetables, we usually buy them from mr. maro it's the one beside the under construction ramen shop just go straight ahead" suna nodded taking the list of things he needs to buy along with the money to pay for it.

senzo took off the right side where the wet market lies, suna was delighted enough that senzo took that part, suna bit his lips harshly as he recollect the time he slipped infront of everyone the last time he went to one and his mother never seems to let him down for it.

later after walking away to go to this mr.maro's shop, he begun to think he had walked past it considering how long he had been walking, he thought deeply if senzo ever said anything about turning anywhere, he eventually reached the other side of the market, he groaned why did he had to find mr. maro when he could just buy from the shop he passed through earlier, that's when he saw the unfinished ramen shop beside him and right next to it was a bunch of greens laid and ready to buy.

except nobody was there he tried calling out but seems no one heard him. he leaned in a light pole just infront of it and rested for a bit,

"hey you!"

"hey!"

"don't ignore me kid!"

suna snapped out of his thoughts and found himself being yelled at from the man who walked speedily towards him, "so it's you!"

suna was beyond confused, was he talking to him? most likely

"you're the one who did this didn't you!" the man had finally reached him and pointed at the car just behind the pole he was leaning on, the car had a big scrape on it

"you're the one who keyed this didn't you! do you think this is funny!?"

'what's funny is humiliating yourself from accusing an innocent person such as me. i don't even have a key'

"i didn't—"

"you'll have to pay for the damage you have done!"

"i didn't even touch—"

"do you know how expensive this car is?"

and that's where our little trip to the past ends, on the present time suna is still in a problematic situation, most of the time he wouldn't let himself get into a tight spot and he seemed to avoid many of those from the twins back at hyogo but of course there's time where the two brothers get the best of him, usually just gets him involve into ridiculous escapades of atsumu and his spitting image or the other way around,

'who was the older miya again?'

"you teenagers are irreverent nowadays, your face says it all!"

"..."

suna deadpans at the older man infront of him, opening his mouth to finally speak only for the elderly to cover his words with his owns once more

".. you know for someone-"

"mr. hiroto!"

a voice intervened, a feminine voice to say "daisuke's not even here and what you said your annoying neighbors already moved out, so why do you still wake up at the wrong side of the bed?"

at the shop, the exact shop, the reason he's even there in the first place, there she stood. the same girl from the summit, sunas eyes fixated at her form, her hair better than ever though tired eyes stared back at him briefly, before turning her face at the man who stood discontentedly

"for the last time it's makoto!" mr. hiroto err.. makoto corrected

'he's childish than atsumu' suna mentally snorted at makoto's evident childlike temper

"this guy keyed my car, what kind of reaction were you expecting?"

"your car already had a scratch the night before when i last saw it" she noted holding a figer up whilst taking steps towards them, "this won't take long" she whispers at suna who looked rather puzzled then he already is

"but—"

"this is not up for debate sir, the peacekeeping officers are already here to pick you up" she hushed, the one-sided squabble had come to a close, much to suna's delight and old geezers dismay, she looks at him curiously, not even trying to hide the fact that she's staring at him so intently

suna couldn't figure out what to say and only thank her for the much needed help though he is upset at his ability to handle nonsensical people like the man, speaking of oldie...

"mr. makoto! you again, this is the third time this week!"

suna's head shot up to their direction whereas makoto's having a chat with the officer which apparently another time he's been reported for his disturbance

'so he's a daily reported infernal guy, huh.. '

"hey, sorry about that" the lass who's before him apologized, leading suna having a questionable look "i don't think you have to apologize" she chuckles awkwardly, rubbing her nape uneasily "right.. of course"

without noticing, she already went ahead and fixed her station, suna bought everything he needed rather noiselessly as if they have forgotten they encountered each other on the eve of the sunrise

senzo hironori

height ; 6'1"

weight ; 59 kg

birthday ; december 28, 1994

favorite food ; crepes

current concern ; many of his classmates had laughed at his 'girly' hobbies

prev | mlist | next

#suna rintarou #rintarou suna #suna rintarou x reader #rintarou suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #suna #rintarou

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carrickbender · 4 years ago

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My world (a Sunday seven)

- The picture sums up my life these days. I had my PRP injection(platelet rich plasma) 2 weeks ago, and im still wearing this boot. It hurts less, but I won't know how well it worked for 8 weeks. I was told to take it easy, but I don't know how to do that, so im doing everything I normally do just with the boot on and a shoe on the other foot. Why? Because if I don't do it, nobody else will. It just is what it is these days, and im kinda over it. But Henry and his tractors? They're pretty coo.

- I've really loved this time off, but I can't wait till the clock starts on starting up the mill again. Even from the word to start the clock, its still 46 days till we fire off. Our COO and management want us to start and keep running, so they will pull the trigger when its good for the business. I just need to get back in the routine and to put my nose down and work. It will take my mind off of the world.

- I bought another guitar, but im regretting my decision. The guitar is great, I've always wanted one, but its not like the rest of my instruments aren't gathering dust as it is these days. It just seems like I have all these commitments to everything else, stupid and good things like health issues, getting a second job, trying to be a good parent and s.o. that it just gets pushed by the wayside. I told H the other day I wish I had a quiet hobby, but all I hear from her and everybody else is, "oh it will get better, it will get better". 3 years, and still not better. I think I mourn this loss the hardest...

- I'm battling to keep insurance because my COBRA payment has been $830 per month, just for me. Henry is covered under H's policy for now, but I simply cannot afford to either pay my premium on a shite policy(which won't cover a procedure that will save them money in the long run) or drop my coverage because my meds are so expensive. I mean, my problems are miniscule and I shouldn't complain, but im kinda reaching the end of my rope.

- So far so good on being a notary, but the Surface that I bought to use for digital signings already gave up the ghost. Microsoft already has it back, and are sending me a new one(Way to be Microsoft!!!). I had my first loan refinance signing the other day, and it was cool. Weird, but cool, because I go to them. We all practice social distancing, mask up, disinfect the hell out of everything... its just a trip to do this stuff during the time of covid. That being said, if I can do a couple of these per week, its an extra 1k in my pocket after taxes per month, which will be helpful once I finish all my training and get certified. Gotta respect the hussle, right?

- I cant even wrap my head around having 2 hurricanes in the gulf at once. Im sure lord Dampnut will say something like, "who would have thought something like this could happen?", meaning covid and a hurricane. Because, of course he will. Of fucking course. I hope with every ounce of my soul that neither of these storms are incredibly destructive. Not just for those in their path, but I truly believe that the social darwinists in the senate have zero intention of really doing good for the American people or helping people at this point. Its all about their agenda of promoting big business and the wealthy few. Its good for them if poor people suffer; its good for them to twist the only pillar that these folks cling to, religion, into a whip that stings them into voting against their best interests; And its certainly good for them to keep to keep the fear of minorities, persons of colour, and anybody else who can be termed an enemy of the state stoked like a poison stew as fear drives votes like no other. So as a great leader once said, "pray for the dead, and fight like hell for the living".

- Good grief! If you've made it this far, you are seriously brave and must have good boots. All I've done is complain when I should be happy I have the things I do have. My family is healthy, I have a few dollars in the bank, my job will be starting again soon and I have a profitable sideline starting. And I want you all to know that I read your posts, sometimes over heart stuff, and hear your voices, and I just want to thank all of you for being here and sharing you. It really does help me get over me. Much love!

#me #this is my life #singer/songwriter #furloughed #no shame in the hustle #working hard #im sorry im complaining #i try to keep it in #and i should #like i said #some of you have real problems and im just a fucking idiot #and i need to be stronger #much love

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colosseumed · 4 years ago

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from: EURYDICE › is this the path you want? from: EURYDICE › i never returned, don’t you want to? from: EURYDICE › or is the road you’ve always known you’d take?

not to be the most annoying person ever, but too late, i’m cc & i love the hunger games. if you saw me writing my own syot fanfic when i was thirteen, no you didn’t </3 anyway, einar is a born & bred career from district two, if you see me comparing him to cato, yes <3 his whole thing is he’s mostly quiet but he will cause problems on purpose. i don’t have any stats or anything BUT i have wc @ the end of the intro so if you want to just scroll all the way down, do it i dare you.

❛ 𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗮𝗶𝗿 › 𝐄𝐈��𝐀𝐑 .

[ NAM JOOHYUK, CIS MAN, HE / HIM. ] introducing einar gallowind, TRIBUTE of the 74th hunger games, representing district 2. my sources say that they are twenty - five, & that they’re pretty handy with weaponry. wonder if that will do any good in the arena ? anyways, caesar says you can’t miss them, because they remind everyone of the eerie calm before the storm — the trees shouldn’t be standing this still, echoing footsteps that near hiding prey, a haunting drag of a blade against the ground, forbidden tears and fears that rear their faces in the stillness of the night & a rotting sunflower field abandoned by a once peaceful caretaker.

❛ 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 › 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 .

blood tw.

the darkness is empty – but it’s home; can’t you remember walking home with nothing but faith on your back? with bloodied bandages wrapped around your fleshy palms & tape around your brittle ankles, gingerly smelling the quarries as your dream gets less & less likely. & home – what you call home, the dimmed lights, the absent parents, the fading colors – home was really never home, was it? you chose your path, didn’t you? named for a fearsome warrior, exterior made of marble & blood earned arrogance, what would they say if they saw the empty glass interior? it’s fragile, make sure you don’t break it before your time.

❛ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗻'𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗲 › 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐒 .

CHAPTER I.

full name . einar seraph gallowind nickname(s) / alias(es) / title(s) . tribute of the 74th hunger games, tbd. age / dob . twenty - five / march 2 hometown . district 2. current location . the capitol status . alive for now ig. specialty . weaponry gender . cis gendered man pronouns . he / him . orientation . bisexual , grayromantic occupation . career trainee / tribute face claim . nam joo hyuk

CHAPTER II.

height . six feet , two inches / 190 cm build . the build of someone who’s been training his whole life – tall, broad, well-built & toned. his limbs are muscular & lean, his torso is well toned & he keeps in shape with daily training. tattoos . none piercings . none scars . small, 3cm scar on his upper left lip. hair . dark, just a shade lighter than black. kept short, cut often by a family chosen stylist from the capitol – these days, styled specifically to help him look more visually appealing to the general public in hopes he’ll gain more favor. eyes . the same shade as his hair & generally, has always been told they’re off putting. inherited from his mother, he’s got the same eyes that can easily put people at unease – cold, soulless, harsh – he’s got the gaze of a basilisk but he often doesn’t realize how often he does it. clothing style . plain & basic so he may be styled however someone else wants. his own style is a mix of darks & neutrals, usually comfortable clothes that he can always go running in or do a quick spar session in. usual expression . stoic – maybe, too stoic. often emotionless with a lifeless stare, he’s always been more of a silent statue type – right down to his resting expression. it’s uneasy, the way he’s clearly alive but could easily blend in with the grand statues at the most expensive of museums. speech . rarely heard, but always remembered. einar’s reserved his speech for only the necessary moments – interviews, reviews, conversations ( that he deems alright, if he doesn’t find interest, it isn’t uncharacteristic of him to just walk away mid-sentence ). when he speaks, he commands attention, inherited from his father who’s always known how to work a crowd. einar speaks well, he’s charismatic & equable even if he doesn’t seem it, great at manipulating crowds but he chooses often not to. distinguishing features . his tall stature, a scar shaped birthmark on the base of his right thumb, the actual scar on his lip.

CHAPTER III.

( + ) positive . intuitive, erudite, striving, benevolent ( - ) negative . hubristic, arrogant, imperious, haughty moral alignment . true neutral. likes . the hunger games, most weapons, waking up extremely early so he can have time for himself, being alone, staying up extra late so he can have time for himself, the wintertime, icy winds that bite to the bone, the smell of beef roast i won’t explain, slipping into shoes that fit just right, being in the capitol when visiting his father’s side of the family, meditating & pretending to levitate i won’t explain either. dislikes . most other districts, most capitolites idk why, tributes who don’t even try ( like what’s the point ), the scorching heat, humidity, victors who’re sad ( get over it? ), corn, artificial food but what can you really do, the smell of the quarries from district two, victor’s village cause he doesn’t live there, hospitals because they’re ugly. quirks . has a silver heirloom coin that’s been passed down from generation to generation that he’ll flip & weave through his fingers, can stand / sit / stay still for hours at a time without moving a muscle, will get up in the middle of the night to stare out a window & ponder. hobbies . training restlessly because he doesn’t really know what else to do anymore, twirling whatever blade he has in his hand because he can, wine tasting with his father, running & sprinting, also swimming, watching designer shows & learning how to make clothes because of his mother.

❛ 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 › 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄 .

trigger warnings : blood, injury,

life has been easy for you – you can’t deny what is fact. einar gallowind, descended from a bloodline of gold; it’s always been fated for you that you’d end up doing something great. if victory isn’t yours to grab, you’ll still be remembered ( and after all, isn’t that what matters most? ). your father, reinhardt gallowind of the capitol – he’s a former broadcaster, a charismatic man on television who sways the entirety of panem with his words & charm. he’s a dangerous kind of evil, one that seeps into your own blood, & you learn very early on that your father isn’t the same evil as the figures that loom over panem – he’s a sly kind of evil. his words sway the capitol, he decides who lives & who dies based on who he chooses to praise, his smile is as sinister as it is warm, you witness it first hand.

your mother is from district two, her last name carries weight in the district but she is nothing in the capitol. lavender goldheart is a sweet girl from a sweet family, but she is the same kind of evil as your father. she is upturned noses at the poor, laughing at the deaths of innocents broadcasted on a far - too - big screen, sending gifts to the already privileged tributes of a game nobody should partake in. she’s the kind of evil that attracts your father & you, you are a product of two evils. you are raised in a district that your father chose to move to, you hold your first blade when you are five, you maim your first opponent at seven, you learn how to keep your composure from a socialite & a broadcaster. two evils of the same variety, they teach you to become worse than they could ever be.

you grow arrogant. to the citizens of district two, to your classmates at the academy you are ruthless & cold, a career tribute of the upmost class – what everyone should aspire to be. you excel in weaponry, your brute strength gives you an upper hand in hand to hand combat, & while you lack in survival skills, you exceed in making sure you don’t have to survive long enough to need them. bold warrior, you are a deadly silent that puts your classmates at unease, they’re only friends with you because they’re scared of you & that’s what your parents want. they want a victor for a son, you want victory to have parents. because they’re never around, not really.

the lights are always off when you get home, you have enough money in the world but will your parents even show up when you ultimately volunteer? what a sad story, you suppose as you ponder it, poor rich boy, his parents never loved him enough so he decided he’d gain their love with blood. it makes you laugh, almost, as you watch the years pass by. you watch the games, you’re hungry for blood as you watch victors come & go – you memorize their names, their stats, their victories – it betters you as a trainee, you suppose. your training continues & you outgrow your classmates ( you are the best, einar, nobody else will say it to you, but you know ), you’re worthy of the games.

but, you are but a boy. you sit on the eve of your twenty-fifth birthday with nobody for company but yourself, you have the riches of the world but you’ve got nothing. you are the owner of a heart that longs to love ( to be loved, ), you have goodness in your bones even if you’re convinced you’ve always been built for evil, you’ve never had the ability to access it. the world your were born in was always against you, the odds were never in your favor – that’s the lesson you’ve refused to learn, but you will – eventually.

❛ 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 › 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 .

from district two, anyone he might’ve trained with, anyone who might know his parents, anyone who he might’ve gone to school with, anyone he might’ve sparred with, anyone his family ( either the gallowinds or the goldhearts ) might’ve wronged at one point or another.

scenario one, a tribute that he finds he ends up caring for – he’s outwardly cold & very much skilled, top of his game, trained his whole life & your muse is ... not, but einar’s like well damn what am i gonna do protect this tribute with my life? absolutely not but i’ll make sure they at least get out of the bloodbath.

scenario two, another tribute but he doesn’t care much for them at all. to be fair, einar doesn’t care for most people but he knows them by name because maybe there’s a rivalry there or maybe they just don’t get along or maybe einar did the thing where he just turns on his heel & walked away mid-convo. anyway, on sight means on sight.

for other tributes: someone who isn’t a fan of the careers, someone who has a Bone to Pick, someone who einar will manipulate & lead on to k-word, an unlikely/reluctant alliance, a likely alliance, someone he stares at just to make them uneasy, someone who wants to get him to say more than hey what’s up.

for victors: a ‘never meet your heroes’ cliche where he admires them but they said no thanks, someone who he thinks is lame cause they didn’t “deserve their win”, someone who he thinks is lame cause they can’t handle their win, someone who he thinks is cool cause they could handle their win, someone who doesn’t like him because he reeks of arrogance, someone who likes him because he reeks of arrogance.

for citizens: um. we’ll figure it out. please love me.

#sacrificialstart #please love me #i did this in one hour so if you see mistakes <3 respectfully shut up

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littlebabycrybtch · 4 years ago

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bro..... im sooo tired of ppl being whiny freaks about ppl liking fictional shit ‘~too much~’. like bitches are literally fully convinced if you prefer acting out certain ideas in fiction but not irl, thats not your normal preferential boundaries but rather your brain is a mental illness BOMB and you need to be fucking hospitalized for being imaginative and having autonomy. like yall if its not taboo or smth shut uuuuhp man you’re not ‘concerned for their health’ or w/e you’re fully just tryna get away with being a nihilistic asshole who lacks sympathetic reasoning skills. listen to me. fiction is valuable. the thoughts we have on it are important. the personal lack of value you happen to put on a media is next to worthless. its not a fuckin waste of time dude, creators are people, who live in the real world, they experience it and have ideas through it and about it, they form and tweak their ideas while still definitely existing in the real world, and then put that back into the world with a new angle and new perspective, to share with other people definitely encountering it in , you guessed it , the real world. thats not disconnected. its not nothing. these things do not magically appear from fairytale land, they are created. stories mean smth, people tell them for a reason, its ok to feel smth for any story, why would we even tell them if not with the intention to impact others emotionally somehow i mean??? fiction does not Just affect reality, it is valuable to real life society, it is a functioning thriving part OF reality.

humans have told stories since the dawn of our existence. it is literally all but an inherent species trait for us to imagine things, its tied to each and every one of us, and to reject ‘fantasy’ as smth worthless to human life is frankly just fuckin wrong and weird of you. bitch we are Supposed to get outside the box, the fandom ppl you cringe your pants over arent thinking abt fake shit too much, you guys very often just arent exercising abstract thought and imagination enough, which actually hurts your ability to engage with it critically in all the ways its meant to be. if you dont see the value in fiction its because you put in no effort to form the analysis skills. in other words, you idiots dont get the hype bc you’re too stupid to get how you're supposed to compare a book to the real world it came from. ‘uu but cmon not everythings valuable what about [tumblr designated cringe media]-’ 1. ok! somehow you havent come to this conclusion yourself yet but thats not real, whatever ppl get to enjoy is not all abt you, your bias means less than dirt to others outside of hivemind social medias, you can keep it to yourself, ppl shouldnt care about it bc it means nothing outside of ur own space, its literally funny to me that you’re so elitist you want me to cater my interests to you, Your Standard Of Quality Isnt Universal, 2. ranking the values of fiction is the waste of time here, if you compare mlp to pride and prejudice ill dissect your teeth, different emotional impacts from tragic to funny to Just A Vibe are all able to be assessed as ‘valuable to somebody else so leave well enough alone’ if you dont have 2010+ funnyman brainrot disease that makes you incapable of reflecting on anything you can find a way to joke abt first.

i mean seriously like. whenever randos start engaging with medias you ppl dont like or in ways you dont get, the strawmans yall make up to get to be cringe culture vultures abt such benign shit, and almost Always at the expense of neurodivergent people with a deeply rooted undertone of extreme ableism might i add..... its just so selfish. u have a brain ok, you’re manipulative but we both know you dont Actually think ppl automatically default to being a waifu obsessed incel rotting away at their basement computer, stagnating their social skills and straying further and further from reality with each passing day, a poor disturbed wretch that you just HAVE to save from themselves, all bc they say they. prefer fictional porn or w/e to having sex irl. buddy thats not a big deal, theyre normal, just different from you. theyre fine, you’re just uncomfortable. as a functioning adult you’re gonna have to try and recognize that sometimes that feelings gonna be 100% on you, and you cant always just lie abt the validity of it to make ppl feel obligated into agreeing with you. this is gonna be one fragment of their personhood and your self obsessed brain imploding over how unrelatable that is doesnt fucking matter, grow up bitch like. how detached do you have to be to think thats so unstable or morally wrong.... its just a completely inconsequential preferential decision that only affects them and isnt a wrong choice at all cuz nobody has to get their dick wet if they dont wanna for any reason ever and thats gotta be that tbh.... and it kills me cuz they still inherently experience the real world and are capable of thinking abt it critically,,, even tho they... masturbate to drawings or w/e the fuck ppl think is unhealthy ???? like? imagination is just fun we dont need to moderate it anymore than we moderate other fun activities i mean lol ksdjfsd this is the DEFINITION of ‘just vibing’ no one FUCKING cares and it deosnt fucking matter the way you desperately try to make ppl think it does just so u get to be loud abt ur shortcomings as a decent understanding person.

‘uuuuuu im sorry but thats unhealthy :///’ you sound like a goddamn maniac dude stories are not unhealthy having feelings abt them is not unhealthy thinking some anime bitch that was DRAWN TO BE HOT , IS HOT, is not UNHEALTHY and you clowns arent convincing anybody you ‘care’ abt that concept anyways !! im losign my mind here skdlsdfsd medias are literally DESIGNED TO DO THIS TO PEOPLE... WE’RE SUPPOSED TO FEEL THINGS FOR IT.... IT IS WHAT MAKES THE ART WE’VE TAKEN PART IN FOR CENTURIES, “ART”.... ITS JUST... HAVING IDEAS AND EXPERIENCING IMAGINATION..... whats wildly unhealthy actually is yalls toxic obsession with ‘harsh truth’ and validating your stupid ass cwinge feewings to the point where everything that gives your underdeveloped selfish ass hives has to be a matter of health and morals and whats ‘best’ for everyone. u dont know that shit!!!! ur a petty brat and im not ur mommy ok i wont baby you so u dont feel like the shitty whiny person you are, you need to grow and do better and think outside urself already, dont put the responsibility of making u feel right for judging somebodies benign hobbies on me. i wont bc its wrong and unnecessary. you’re not a savior no ones falling for that lmao you’re just a bitch girl xoxo get over it shit truly does not matter. let them write nsfw self insert fics instead of banging !!

to make it real do yall really not Get that basic consent kinda doesnt just mean ‘no when im not in the mood at the time’ but it means ‘no if i just dont fuckin feel like having sex ever for literally any reason at all bc i choose what i do’ and pressuring them, even with what your warped brain translates as the best of intentions, is inherently disgusting? especially with the ‘i know how to help you’ attitude like......... ohhh die soonly ew lmao! lay off this nasty shit already please it doesnt matter! stop trying to make it matter!! its not hurting you or them you stupid tumblr phd ass!! and like again yeah some media shits just truly gross but tbr now its like even That kind of shit, the Real social issues caused by Actually problematic media that ppl should discuss Genuinely without ulterior motives, is being used more and more rampantly as just a stepping stone to get to the needless mockery of other harmless things in the media they want an excuse to bag on.......... like a bitch cant just be grown and talk about problems at face value without getting a bully jab in. smhhhhh you all fuckin suck please just stop talking already. so anyways yeah being attracted to fictional characters instead of real people or w/e IS funny, funny how many boyfriends they have when u have none xoxo theyre having fun and you can die sad abt it they get to die 5 times in an angsty fantasy fic and be brought back with mouth to mouth by fuckin kakashi every time and then they go get lunch irl while ur updating tinder bitch ... different fucking strokes ig !

#long post//#i would like one free ticket to pop off please. thank you #can i cash it in immediately if you dont mind

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kpopchangedmylife44 · 5 years ago

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Stargazing date with Yeosang

- you have been dating for several months now and Yeosang always made an effort for you

- he is the sweetest boyfriend, always holding your hand, smiling at you when you don’t notice and asking you all the time about your day

- he is really interested and involved in all of your hobbies and ideas, so when you said you would like to go stargazing one day, he was already planning everything

- Yeosang wanted to make you happy, cause seeing you happy, was his happiness and he enjoyed the warm feeling in his heart when you smiled

- so within a week he arranged everything, it was quite expensive and time consuming, but for him all his efforts would be worth it for you

- you usually went out once a week to go to the city and watch a movie or eat at a restaurant, but this week was different

- ,,y/n I have something prepared for today. Meet me at my apartment at 6pm. See you later, love.“

- he was already getting giddy as he was full of excitement and so he did a little dance

- when you arrived at the apartment, he would give you a long hug and peck your lips before holding out his hand to you

- you gladly took it and followed him on the rooftop of his building

- both of you had been there once before, but only to make a quick golden hour fotoshoot

- so when you arrived you couldn’t believe your eyes

- everything was beautifully decorated, there was a huge blanket on the floor with several cushions and also a small table with all of your favorite snacks

- it looked like a rooftop picnic, but there was more

- you later recognized the telescope and his drone, but before you could ask him what this was all about, he told you

- ,,You wanted to go stargazing, so I thought we could do it on the rooftop. I know how much you hate the insects at the park at night, so this could work out.“

- you looked at him like you couldn’t believe your eyes

- how could someone be this cute, considerate and be so beautiful inside and out and you get so lucky to actually call him your boyfriend

- Yeosang was getting a little nervous because you were quiet for some time now

- so you reassured him how much you loved this by saying so while holding his hand

- he was so relieved to hear that and started to hand you a glass of your favorite drink

- it was just the beginning of the evening, but it alreasy felt like the highlight of this week

- while sitting down you chatted about your day and also about some upcoming birthday party of one of your best friends

- after getting comfortable while still snacking Yeosang flew his drone over the both of you to capture this moment

- it was a beautiful picture of you lying peacefully next to each other on the rooftop surrounded by the city of Seoul

- but the most beautiful thing was how you just smiled at each other like the rest of the world didn’t exist

- Yeosang was so happy while taking the pictures, so you leaned in for a quick kiss, cause you couldn’t help yourself

- and in this moment he almost forgot the drone

- ,,Waah y/n you can‘t do this to me or I lose my focus.“

- he said it in this cute tiny voice of him while starting to chuckle in his hand

- and you both just started to laugh

- after that you waited a little while for the sky to turn dark

- in the mean time Yeosang wrapped you in dozens of blankets, because he was afraid that you would get cold

- and he also wrapped himself with you, lying in the crook of your neck and tracing circles on your back

- this moment is what life is about and you were so grateful to experience this with him

- when the stars started to appear, he would tell you about several constellations as he spend some time studying them

- you were excited to find both of your zodiac signs next to each other and the whole world seemed so small compared to the night sky

- Yeosang knew that people always started to philosophize when looking at the sky, and although he found that quite pathetic, he couldn’t help but wonder

- how in the millions of years and with such a huge world could he get so lucky to have met you

- and not just met you, but fall in love with you

- but the biggest wonder for him was that you felt the same way and he still needed to pinch himself from time to time, cause he couldn’t believe that

- you were having the same thoughts as him, but neither you or him said anything, because you already knew

- while you still looked at the night sky, he looked at you like he stared as his whole world (because he did)

- with the millions of stars, your smile shined so much brighter to him and seeing you this happy, he wanted to burst from his happiness

- for a moment you locked eyes with him and although nobody spoke you said it all with your eyes and he let out a sigh of happiness

- you kept watching the sky until Yeosang got up to position the telescope

- you spend a long time watching all the star constellations, before Yeosang wanted to show you something perticular

- ,,Do you see this pair of stars next to each other? They are so far away from the other ones, but close to each other.“

- you nodded, wondering what this was about

- Yeosang started to get really red and you could still figure this out even in the dark, as his words got much more quiet

- ,,Well, I named them after us.“

- he stared at you and you were trying to understand the meaning of his words

- ,,I actually have a certificate.“

- he wanted to show you the papers, but you stopped him, holding his hand and looking him in the eyes

- your fingers wandered along the side of his face, which was getting really warm under your touch, before you gave his birthmark a quick kiss and whispered ,,thank you“ in his ear

- you spend several minutes explaining to Yeosang how much this all meant to you, while looking at your stars

- and he couldn’t get more happy than that

- you relaxed on the blanket and watched the sky for several minutes in peaceful silence, when suddenly a shooting star appeared

- ,,You need to make a wish, love.“

- but what else could you wish for, with your boyfriend lying next to you under this sky of stars, you honestly had everything you ever wanted and much more

- ,,I can’t think of anything else. Can you?“

- Yeosang was as happy as you, but he certaintly had a wish

- he wished that his whole life with you could be spend like this in happiness

- and he would love to always be with you and marry you one day

- without saying it out loud, he leaned into you to kiss you, while another shooting star glimmered above you

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weaponmistress · 4 years ago

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"I’m easily excitable but definitely an ambivert, knowing when to bring myself down a level to match the room’s vibe. I’m definitely more hyper and outspoken than most, when I’m around friends or friends of friends. I can be a clutz and probably joke around too much.

Virgo

Panromantic

In a relationship I can be physically distant since physical intimacy leaves me uncomfortable sometimes. However I still try to give my partner enough physical affection and intimacy so they aren’t left feeling unloved. My particular love language is gift giving and also words of affirmation. I do my best to be my partners hype man, if you would.

I’ve played sports through my school years and I also play video games sometimes. In both instances I can get a bit competitive. (I definitely don’t wake my parents yelling at a screen at 2 AM)."

Requested By: @shoogarcube

I'm not the best at taking zodiac into account but I still try to incorporate some qualities of it so it won't just be discarded along the way.

I'm sorry this took a bit long, I was hesitant on reaching out to you because i'm a bit embarrassed about it. (´∩｡• 3 •｡∩`)

But here it is, I hope that you'll enjoy!!

Thank you so much for requesting! <33

Haikyuu Edition! Matchup Season.

I would pair you up with...

Kozume Kenma

🎮 Bb cat baby boi.

🎮 He doesn't mind that you're not into physical intimacy.

🎮 Respects your boundaries. (whatta man)

🎮 Kenma's the type to be distant too, so he understands you.

🎮 He shows his affection in small ways that a few of his friends, like Kuroo, knows that it isn't common of him to do a certain action.

🎮 "Let's play a ranked game."

🎮 As a pro-player in the gaming community, his ranks in several competitive games are his prized posessions. Nobody can tell me that he isn't a pro-player even way before he was introduced as one after the timeskip.

🎮 Isn't surprise that you're actually good at this one game he likes to play right after an exhausting game.

🎮 He wasn't holding back whenever he plays with you because apparently, you can see through him. He has this certain gesture he does that meant he was holding back.

🎮 You got too competitive that you actually won.

🎮 "Hey, I won!"

🎮 "I probably need to find a new game to play..."

🎮 Smiles when he sees your bright twinkling eyes when you won against him.

🎮 "Whoa...is it really going to be released earlier?"

🎮 He doesn't know that you have your way with things.

🎮 He occasionally gets his information from you about the early bird release of a new game that was fairly popular for their trial game.

"Can't believe that the employee in the game shop didn't told me about this..."

🎮 He can get hype when he sees you so hyper.

🎮 Sometimes whenever he goes on a weekend training with his team, you'd join in the training but most of the time you're on your own watching him from afar when they do a informal practice match.

🎮 Is so motivated to do works when you're there that it legits surprises his teammates to the core???

🎮 Only when they notice that you were his main source of hyperness will they start teasing him.

🎮 He doesn't get so worked up during practices, they remembered way before he met you and started seeing you officially, Hinata was the only guy on the court to give everything his best.

🎮 "Sh-shut up...go back to your position...!"

🎮 Durings official games, in volleyball or in gaming, he makes sure to look at you and respond back to your cheers and whoopings that's directed to him.

🎮 "NICE FEINT, KENMA!"

🎮 When he hears you cheer, he flashes you one of his shy smiles.

🎮 Gets flustered when Kuroo notices it.

🎮 "I just really want to acknowledge her cheers so it won't go to waste."

🎮 Gets so focused on the game because he didn't want to disappoint you.

🎮 Super motivated Kenma on full motion!!

🎮 He'd be super tired after the game though.

🎮 "You're so cool! It's so hard to do a feint that casually! You set so nice!"

🎮 His social battery just went a bit high because of your praises.

🎮 It can give him an ego boost, no one knows this except the two of you.

🎮 He's impressed when he gets some extra information from you about the next team they'll be facing against.

🎮 Strategizes with you that can help him and his team to overwhelm the opponents.

🎮 So thankful that he has somebody to point out some small errors of him or his teammates that he wasn't able to notice before.

🎮 "Ah, I didn't notice that a while back, thank you."

🎮 He's so grateful to have a s/o who knows how to match up with the vibe. He's pretty much a chill kind of guy who can't keep up with every exhausting activity,

🎮 Except volleyball, that's the only thing he'll exert extra effort,

🎮 You too, but he won't see you as exhausting to handle, just somebody who he'd want to show how he's so grateful for being there with him.

🎮 Plays volleyball with you, whatever position you're comfortable with, he'd likely adjust to you if you want to be in a certain position that him, being setter, isn't the best to play with you.

🎮 Would ask everytime if it's alright to you if he kisses you or hugs you just to make sure he doesn't misinterpret.

🎮 "Um...is it alright for me to...uh..."

🎮 He gets so shy and quiet the first time he asked.

🎮 Eventually, he'll get used to reading your small actions and would know when he can.

🎮 He thinks that kissing you on the forehead is affectionate and at the same time, a somewhat safe spot for him to kiss that wouldn't catch you by shock.

🎮 "Look, Kenma, kids!"

🎮 He inadvertently hides behind your back when a child comes up to you.

🎮 Doesn't hate kids but are kinda scared of them, He could imagine a kid running around in his house, eventually ruining his expensive build of his pc.

🎮 You help him interact with the kid and he do as you told him to do.

🎮 He won't grow fond of them even after years of being with you, but will try to not make the child cry because of him.

🎮 Will absolutely not babysit.

🎮 Actually knows how to cook, just not some complex meal.

🎮 "Ice cream!"

🎮 He likes seeing you all so smiley whenever he buys you some sweet desserts.

🎮 "You got some cream on the corner of your lips."

🎮 Chuckles when he sees you reach for it to lick it off.

🎮 Will eat the cherry if the order comes with one.

🎮 He could take some heat, what can spicy food do to him anyway?

🎮 He enjoys some spicy food, low to medium spiciness level, but unfortunately his stomach says otherwise.

🎮 Would feel his stomach growling in displease when he smells your food when you feel like eating something spicier than usual, the sharp spicy smell struck him.

🎮 "Ugh, you enjoy this...?"

🎮 "Of course!"

🎮 Has a pet cat only because you love cats.

🎮 He grows fond of it and doesn't mind too much when it causes some mess.

🎮 When he goes out to buy his games, he sees a particular game that you've been talking about for a week.

🎮 When he comes home, your presence welcomes him warmly.

🎮 It's been years since he moved out and settled in an apartment near the university he was attending. It was pretty lonely but he didn't mind until you came along. It feels more like home whenever you feel like crashing in his place. He feels that every time you're not in the apartment, it truly feels emptier than he remembered.

🎮 "I went to buy my game and saw this game you want, I bought you some spicy snacks on my way home too."

Bonus!

Second Pick: Akaashi Keiji

🏐 He is totally fine if you don't get physically intimate with him all the time. He sees you being affectionate in your own ways anyway, maybe people would judge but,

🏐 They're not in the relationship so???

🏐 He feels so special and loved when you tried to be intimate with him.

🏐 Same as Kenma, he'd ask you if you're up for some cuddle session, some kisses here and there. He'll eventually learn when you feel like receiving some too.

🏐Cooks you food especialy to your liking,

🏐 Asks you if you wanna make desserts with him,

🏐 "How about it, love?"

🏐 "Yes please!"

🏐 Encourages you to do your tasks but won't pressure you if you don't feel like it.

🏐 Helps you in anyway he can.

🏐 "If you need me to do something, don't hesitate to ask for my help."

🏐 If you feel like doing some of your hobbies and you decide to show the result to him, you know he'd look at it silently with starry eyes.

🏐 "This looks so pretty!"

🏐 Nicknames, he gets soft when you come up with a few cute nicknames.

🏐 he's a very soft bb.

🏐 When you tripped out of nowhere, his fast reflexes get the better of him, and will hold you to steady yourself.

🏐 If you get a scratch because of a random fall, he'll make sure to patch it up even if it's minor.

🏐 "Please be careful, alright love?"

Third Pick: Sugawara Kōshi

🏐 He cherishes every hugs, kisses, basically everything you give.

🏐 His hobby is to pamper you with a lot of things he bought.

🏐 Cooks you some spicy food!

🏐 The two of you can share because looking at Kōshi, he's full of surprises.

🏐 He can handle any spicy food, and could compete with you.

🏐 Probably eats something spicy to compete with your tolerance for spiciness.

🏐 "I bet that I can eat spicier than you can!"

🏐 Naturally competitive too, so your bondings would consist of little competitions here and there.

🏐 Would be bad in video games from the start,

🏐 but in the end, he's slightly better than before.

It's an improbement you have to say.

🏐 Always loses to you, but won't get all sulky about it.

🏐 Gets all fired up when you play on your own against some random strangers,

🏐 "YES, GO CRUSH THEM, HONEY!"

Fourth Pick: Shirofuku Yukie

🏐 Praises you on the regular.

🏐 Actually good at video games, but she turns humble,

🏐 "I'm not that good."

🏐 Actually wins with perfect scores.

🏐 Gets pretty competitive too when it comes to food, and protective of her food, but when it comes to you, she's going to give you a piece or two.

🏐 "You're lucky that I love you..."

#Kozume Kenma #Kenma hq #Akaashi Keiji #Akaashi hq #Sugawara Kōshi #Sugawara hq #Shirofuku Yukie #Shirofuku hq #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#hq!!#haikyuu matchup #haikyuu matchups #matchups #open for requests

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