#and pretty much anything i ever made with her specifically in mind she just. wouldn’t really eat anyway’

[jenny-dreadful]

if i’m being honest, i don’t think society has really figured out the right thing to do for, like, vegetarian guests either

[theladyofthevarioussorrows]

In honor of Lestat de Lioncourt's 264th birthday, I present to you...

Written in Blood, or the Play in which The Brat Prince Ties the Knot

Part I (of IV)

Fandom: The Vampire Chronicles (Gothic horror novel series, 1976-2018); Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire (TV series, 2022-present)

Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt/fem!reader; Lestat de Lioncourt/You

Word count: 3,900+

Characters: Lestat de Lioncourt (Sam Reid, the best version…­­­the only one that matters, obviously); fem!reader; The Vampire Armand (lol ouch); Nicolas de Lenfent (even bigger ouch, RIP); Santiago; Estelle; Celeste; Eglee; Sam; Gustav; Quang Pham; pretty much the entire Theatre des Vampires.

Summary: Fem!reader is the newest addition to the Theatre des Vampires, and Lestat becomes smitten with her (of course he does, the little whore!). Lestat’s allure, charm, beauty, and viciousness are not lost on the reader, and she falls for him (I mean, who wouldn’t, let’s be honest). With fem!reader being the freshest member of the Coven, Santiago “initiates” her (similar to how he brought Claudia in) by casting her as Lestat’s co-star in the next play as his love interest. The play, overseen reluctantly by Armand is about a wedding (in the vein of The Taming of the Shrew, As You Like It, or something similar but accurate to the time period, that is the vibe…Lestat, little miss Lady Macbeth himself, “barely Balthazar” Armand, “too old to play Hamlet, too young to play Polonius” Santiago, and I are all Shakespeare girlies, so I thought it would make sense); fem!reader and Lestat are actually getting legally married, unbeknownst to the mortal audience. Fem!reader and Lestat are to be the bride and groom, Santiago is the Justice of the Peace, and the rest of the TDV are the wedding party. While Armand is still the Coven leader, he “directs” the play and Nicki leads the orchestra. Things do not go the way they were planned to go (in Armand’s case); a story of love, sex, and vampire drama unfolds.

Warnings and additional tags: New/eventual relationship, established relationship, smut (P in V), fluff, mention of sex, mention of masturbation, (F and M), oral sex (F and M receiving), all characters (except the reader, duh) are written to be as close to the way they are in the books as well as the show to the best of my ability, reader-insert, reader-interactive, use of Y/N, Lestat gives the reader pet names in French (this is Lestat, after all), mutual pining, flirting, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism (is anything Lestat does really a secret? No, not really), blood drinking, blood sucking, bloodletting, biting, gore, violence, murder (feeding on humans is the only instance of this), both Lestat and fem!reader are bisexual, age gap (fem!reader is younger than Lestat by at least a bit but it doesn’t really matter as much because he himself is a new-ish vampire; Lestat would still be somewhere in his thirties in mortal years by the show’s timeline), Lestat is very seductive and persuasive (fem!reader doesn’t need much persuading, so it’s not a bad thing), a bunch of mentions of Shakespeare, lines from As You Like It are in italics and dialogue from vampires using the Mind Gift are in bold italics.

Notes: This story takes place while Lestat is still performing with the Theatre des Vampires and is newly a vampire himself. Magnus is obviously dead by now (thank God). The events of this fic take place after Lestat breaks up with both Nicki (he is still alive at this point in time) and Armand, but before he meets Louis de Pointe du Lac and later Claudia. I don’t have anything against either character (I adore both greatly!), this is just a “what if?” kind of situation. This is a basic idea I had had for literal years ever since I read the books, but I didn’t do anything with it until the second season of the show started, specifically episode 10. I wasn’t immune to Harlequin Lestat, and I was FERAL about it. Sam Reid only made that worse for me (God, I am so in love with him…that man IS Lestat. He doesn’t just play him, he BECAME him, and no one else has come close. Tom Cruise and Stuart Townsend could NEVER!). The premise of the fic came to me while listening to “Written in Blood” by She Wants Revenge…one thing led to another, and here we are! Also, yes, I KNOW the vampires don’t “have sex” in the novels, but they do in the show (a LOT). I might make references to things that have happened in the books (mostly Interview with the Vampire and The Vampire Lestat, possibly a bit of Queen of the Damned) but might not have been shown in the TV series yet, so reader beware of that. Let this be the spoiler warning if you are not familiar with the books or haven’t watched the show. I am completely ignoring both movies, because they mean absolutely nothing to me now that the (far superior) show exists. The piece that fem!reader uses for her audition comes from Shakespeare’s comedy As You Like It…she is reading as Rosalind while disguised as Ganymede, and Lestat reads with her as Orlando. I thought the parallels were a nice touch. I obviously do not own the rights to As You Like It, I merely used the one scene for Y/N’s audition, and to add romantic and dramatic effect. Special shout out to my best friend Riley for their contribution and ideas!

Language: English (except for a handful of pet names and expressions used by Lestat in French, hopefully I did it correctly. I took 4 years of French in high school, but I am not fluent)

_________________________________________

It was a cool autumn night in Paris, and while mortals slept, the undead were busy welcoming their newest member to their coven inside the old auditorium. The Vampire Armand stood proudly in front of the stage, looking up at the Theatre’s founder and poster child Lestat de Lioncourt, giving him notes and stage directions he knows full well Lestat will not listen to. Next to Lestat was Y/F/N Y/L/N, a freshly turned vampire herself.

Today was Y/N’s audition to join the Theatre des Vampires, and although nervous, she felt at home already among the other thespians in the room with her. With her lifelong love of theatre and literature that only intensified in her newly immortal life, Y/N knew she was in good company. She caught herself stealing glances at Lestat, as if against her will, but she knew she couldn’t help herself. Of all the vampires in this room—the stage director and Coven leader Armand, fellow company members Eglee, Celeste, Estelle, Sam, Gustav, and Quang Pham in the seats, as well as the gifted violinist Nicki hiding in the wings—there is something captivating and enchanting about this charismatic blonde actor. Y/N felt immediately attracted to this man, and she was both alarmed by and pleased with this sudden revelation. Lestat could feel Y/N’s attraction to him, something he found adorable, endearing, distracting, and quite arousing. Lestat gazed at her, a charmingly wicked smile on his face as he admired the young vampire in front of him. Armand, annoyed but pushing the uneasy feeling down, turned to look at Y/N.

“Welcome to the Theatre, dear Y/N. The Coven and I are interested as to how you found yourself in Paris, and how you found us. Please, enlighten everyone,” Armand said, with a slight air of both curiosity and mild arrogance rolled together. Y/N quickly moved her glance from Lestat to Armand and shivered slightly before she answered.

“Hello all, my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, and I was visiting when I was given the Dark Gift. I have been in Paris ever since. I heard about the Theatre through my maker, and through discovering the Theatre, I found out about the Coven.” As she told the truth, she felt Santiago staring daggers at her, full of amusement.

“So, little miss Y/L/N, it seems as though you enjoy the arts, is that right?” said Santiago, with a slithery snark. Y/N nodded her head. “A birdie told me that you’re auditioning with one of Shakespeare’s lesser works, yes?” Y/N nodded again. Lestat’s blueish violet eyes widened as he grinned a little bigger.

“Yes, I will be reading as Rosalind disguised as Ganymede. I hope you find it suitable,” she said politely, trying to stifle a small tinge of laughter. Santiago exaggerated his giggle to mock her slightly before speaking again.

“Hmm, I assume you would like to have someone read with you. I wonder who that could be…” Santiago’s voice trailed off as he shifted his glance from Y/N to the left of her.

The slender, blonde, and devilishly handsome vampire beside Y/N spoke before she could even have the thought to respond. Watching from the wings, the violinist Nicki put a hand to his forehead with a quiet groan.

“I volunteer myself. I know the play by heart,” said Lestat. He shot Y/N a soft but sly grin as he placed his hand on his chest, reeling in the blush that appeared on her face. Armand had to hold back a scoff as Lestat offered to read with her. “I’m quite curious to see how she does, if I may.” Lestat gently bowed as he spoke to her, with a smile on his face and intrigue in his heart. Lestat was many things, and subtle was not one of them. Y/N nodded, smiling slyly back at him.

“You may,” Y/N said, bowing slightly. Her cheeks cast a rosy glow upon them as she smiled. Santiago chuckled to himself, and Armand choked down another scoff as he looked back to Y/N and Lestat.

“As you wish. Lestat, you will read with Y/N as Orlando, starting from his entrance after Jaques exits the scene. Y/N, you will follow.” Armand crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the two vampires in front of him on the stage.

“Yes, maître,” said Y/N, slightly nervous but strangely excited about reading alongside this hauntingly tempting creature next to her. She got herself into character quickly, trying to fight off the thought of how sweet Lestat’s blood might taste on her tongue and how soft his full lips must be, among various other salacious and primal things that she wasn’t aware of that she needed or wanted. It wasn’t an unwelcome thing—Lestat had something disarmingly attractive about him. Y/N felt drawn to him somehow, but she tried in vain to hide it. Lestat cleared his throat and prepared himself as well, his own pale skin turning a faint pink as they moved to the middle of the stage. Butterflies fluttered inside their bodies as they began their scene. After a few seconds of silence passed, Lestat launched into character.

“My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.” Lestat said, remembering the lines from memory as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. Despite her nervousness and giddiness, Y/N began herself.

“Break an hour’s promise in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapped him o’ th’ shoulder, but I’ll warrant him heart-whole.” Y/N matched Lestat’s intensity and focus as she spoke her lines. Astonished by her delivery, he carried on with his own lines.

“Pardon me, dear Rosalind,” continued Lestat, feeling a rush of adrenaline in the pit of his stomach, the pleasant sensation only growing stronger as she went on. Lestat watched her as she moved effortlessly through her audition, overcome with awe, very nearly stumbling on his own lines as a result. Armand and Santiago watched from the bottom of the stage as Y/N and Lestat kept going.

Armand watched from the front row and noticed Lestat’s immediate and oddly natural chemistry with Y/N and was well aware of the subtle attraction and quiet infatuation she felt towards Lestat. Armand could feel it through her, and it bothered him. He couldn’t help it; he began to feel his face turn green with envy. Santiago, however, was greatly amused at what was unfolding in front of them—and he relished the drama of it all. The rest of the Coven watched from the seats intently, some engrossed, some unbothered. Nicki leaned up against the wall backstage, a pained expression etched on his features. Looking on at his former lover floating across the stage with a woman whom he had only met mere hours ago and watching her fall under his spell just as he had, Nicki shook his head, a grimace forming on his face.

With all due respect, maître…maybe we should keep an eye on the new one, said Santiago, filling Armand’s head with his thoughts without moving his mouth. It’s only a matter of time before our dear founder tries to take her to bed with him…you know as well as I do how he is. And seeing how she’s looking at him—Armand did not want to hear this. Lestat and Y/N were too immersed in their scene and lost in each other to hear them through their own minds.

Armand cut him off. Enough, Santiago. I know very well how Lestat operates. Let them finish. I’ll allow Y/N to continue, for now. We shall decide what measures to take when the time is right… As Armand and Santiago sized Y/N up, she breezed through her audition.

“Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent. What would you say to me now an I were your very, very Rosalind?” Y/N continued as she blushed and smiled at Lestat. Anything he did in his impromptu performance, she followed with masterful skill.

Lestat slowly walked closer to her, his gaze never leaving her eyes. Lestat looked at Y/N, smirking as he brushed some of his long blonde hair behind his ear. He let the silence expand for a second before he continued.

“I would kiss before I spoke.”

Lestat and Y/N gazed at each other as if they were the only beings in the room, amusing Santiago morbidly and annoying Armand profoundly. A mixture of admiration and a deep hunger formed inside Lestat’s chest, and Y/N’s heart pounded against her ribcage. She gulped quietly as she tried to keep up with Lestat. Determined to give the best audition she could despite having to act opposite the most gorgeous creature she has ever laid her eyes on, alive or dead, Y/N tried to fight off her own desire building within her. Soft gasps could be heard from the other vampires watching them from the seats.

“Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were gravelled for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking—God warn us—matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.”

Sensing Y/N’s struggle to maintain her composure, Lestat met her energy with his own words. “How if the kiss be denied?” He looked at her for a beat, cocking his head to one side quizzically. Y/N answered him with a playful shrug.

“Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.”

Lestat continued his teasing, delighted by the thrill Y/N gave him. “Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?”

Y/N pretended to scoff. “Marry, that should you if I were your mistress, or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.”

Lestat looked at Y/N with a look of mock surprise. “What, of my suit?” he said, his voice harboring a more sensual tone this time.

“Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am I not your Rosalind?” Y/N floated across the stage like a ghost, every single movement calculated and carried out so smoothly.

“I take some joy to say you are because I would be talking of her.” Lestat’s face reddened slightly as he noticed how Y/N’s jaw dropped, but only for a second before she kept going.

“Well, in her person I say I will not have you.” Y/N let out an exaggerated giggle as she playfully spun around slowly.

A dramatic sigh escaped Lestat’s lungs. “Then in mine own person I die.” He looked back at Y/N as she turned to face him again.

“By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come; now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition, and ask me what you will, I will grant it.” Y/N gazed at the vampire in front of her, only inches separating them now. Lestat reached out to gently caress Y/N’s cheek as they looked deeply into each other’s eyes, making her blush even more obvious in her face now. He has her right where he wants her, and as fate or some other mystical thing would have it, Y/N is right where she wants to be. Once again, Lestat drew the silence out for a beat too long before he spoke.

“Then love me, Rosalind.”

Y/N’s voice trembled a little as she leaned into Lestat’s touch. His unbroken focus on her made her feel slightly faint just from the way he looked at her, but she kept her cool as best as she could. “Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.” She shyly smiled up at him, trying and failing to hide her quiet swooning.

Lestat hung on to every word that left her lips as if he had never heard such language spoken before. Of course, he was no stranger to the stage himself, having been the Theatre’s main selling point for a few years now. The act of performing on a stage in front of an enamored audience always thrilled him, but she…she was different. This new and sudden but pleasant feeling cut him way deeper, hit him harder—he knew that she was something magical. And Lestat wasn’t quite sure where to put that desire and hunger, so he decided to do the thing he does best: he needed to have her all to himself, by any means necessary. Lestat was delighted to find that the feeling was so clearly mutual.

Santiago watched Lestat enchant Y/N as they continued with their performances. He gasped quietly as he saw Lestat become smitten with Y/N, rolling his eyes. Just look at those two! Can you believe them? They’ve made eyes at each other from the second she came through the door. They’ve only just met a few hours ago and he’s looking at her like Venus de Milo herself…and she looks as if she’s about to melt through the floor. Armand found himself becoming more and more annoyed as Lestat and Y/N carried on like they were, and Santiago took notice. Maître, you’re grinding your teeth…

Armand huffed quietly. I said let them continue. Y/N is smarter than we realize. If she doesn’t know who she’s getting herself tied up with, she will. I can guarantee that. Armand maintained his mildly annoyed expression as he crossed his arms over his chest. I see potential in her. We can use that potential.

Santiago, ever the drama queen but also the suck-up, tried to push Armand’s buttons. How shall we do that, maître? I wonder what our violinist has to say about this…I can’t imagine he’s especially thrilled about—

Armand cut him off once again. Be silent now, Santiago. Nicki is the least of my worries right now.

Now mildly aware of the growing discomfort in the pit of Armand’s stomach and Santiago’s antagonizing of him, Lestat continued to read with Y/N. He was enraptured by her, this was true—but he also found quite a bit of amusement in making Armand uncomfortable. Y/N, less aware of the effect her performance is having on the Coven leader and his all-too-willing sidekick, matched him masterfully.

“And wilt thou have me?” said Lestat, sultry and low.

Y/N nodded her head and smiled. “Ay, and twenty such.”

Lestat felt his heart flutter in his chest as he moved closer to her. “What sayest thou?”

Y/N gently bit her lip then let it go with a smirk. “Are you not good?”

“I hope so.” Lestat rolled his eyes in a sassy manner.

“Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?” Y/N went on, closing the small space between herself and Lestat.

The vaguely pained expression did not escape Armand’s face. Still wanting to maintain some sort of order and power over his Coven, Armand kept his focus fixed on the two vampires on the stage in front of him.

Santiago, an evil grin taking shape over his features, watched Lestat and Y/N’s bond become deeper by the second as Y/N continued. “Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. Give me your hand, Orlando.” Y/N gently reached for Lestat’s hand, and he placed it in hers, tangling their fingers together. She looked to where the audience would be sitting. “What do you say sister?” Y/N looked back up at Lestat as he gazed back at her, their vampire eyes blown out with love and desire for each other.

After what felt like an eternity, Lestat put his finger under Y/N’s chin and gingerly tilted her head up. He started to move down to press his lips to hers, and she moved up to meet him. He closed his eyes, and her eyelids fluttered shut as his lips gently—

A groan could be heard from Armand as Santiago abruptly rose from his seat and applauded loudly. Lestat and Y/N snapped out of their trance and pulled away from each other, no longer able to hide their blushing. The rest of the Coven began to applaud as well. The vampires Sam and Gustav were enthusiastic in their encouragement of the new potential member of the Coven and her undeniable and palpable chemistry with their Theatre’s founder. Celeste looked on with a proud smile on her face, while Estelle clapped wildly. Eglee rolled her eyes before eventually joining in with her applause. Backstage, Nicki shook his head again as he quietly left the auditorium, quietly cursing under his breath.

“Very well done, Y/N. Very well done indeed,” said Santiago, sounding giddier than he probably should. He looked at Armand. “What say you, maître?” he asked with mock amusement.

Armand once again did not listen. He looked up at Y/N as Lestat released her from his gentle but bold embrace. “Exquisite work, Y/N. Exceptional. While we evaluate your performance, you are welcome to remain here with the Coven. We have provided a coffin for you near your maker’s.” Armand started to dismiss everyone before he turned back to Y/N. “We do expect you to keep our hours, curfew is three o’clock sharp.” He shot a subtle but menacing glare at Lestat. Lestat rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself as he turned his back to him. Armand looked at Y/N again. Lestat smiled warmly at Y/N as he winked at her.

Still reeling from everything that just occurred, Y/N nodded and bowed. “Yes maître, I will. Thank you all.” Armand dismissed Santiago and the rest of the Coven, and they all left the auditorium.

It was then that Y/N heard a sensual and seductive voice inside her head.

Très bien fait, ma chérie. I’m impressed.

Y/N turned around to find Lestat leaning against the piano on the stage, his arms crossed over his chest, looking her up and down, dripping with genuine curiosity and insatiable desire. She blushed and smiled as she met his gaze.

“That’s very sweet of you to say, Lestat. It really means a lot to hear.” Y/N walked over to him, slightly nervous but not at all deterred. “You were amazing yourself.”

Lestat rolled his eyes playfully at her compliment but accepted it. “You flatter me, mon amour.” He stood up straight and walked over to her, looking down at her with that softly sly smirk again. “I must say, my dear Y/N, you are quite the actress. Many have come and gone from this theatre, but none have bewitched me so like you have, ma petite fleur.”

Y/N swooned at his words, slightly taken aback by the sincerity in them despite the obvious attraction. “Oh, you’re too kind. It’s not often I’m in the presence of someone so…” She caught herself getting lost in his eyes again—something she has by now realized is very easy to do—before she continued. “So…enchanting as you.”

Lestat chuckled lowly. “Is that so? Well, you have captivated me too, love,” he said, pausing briefly as he took the sight of her in. “I haven’t seen such talent on this stage in quite some time, Y/N.” She blushed deeper as she took a second to gather her thoughts. Y/N sighed softly before speaking.

“Thank you! I’m just happy that I can finally do what I love to do. Up until today, I thought it was unfortunate that I couldn’t do this kind of thing when I was mortal, but I don’t have that feeling now that I’m here. In an odd way, it feels right like this.” Y/N chuckled lightly.

Lestat listened to her words intently. “I know that feeling very well, mon coeur. For what it’s worth, I’m quite glad you wandered into our midst. I can see already that you’re passionate about the Theatre, and it’s refreshing. You’re simply lovely.” Y/N smiled at his words of admiration and encouragement. “I cannot wait to see what other talents you possess, if you don’t mind my saying so,” he said with a smirk, appreciating the slight drop of her jaw. Noticing the positive tension on her face, Lestat spoke gently to her. “Oh, and don’t be nervous, chérie. There is nothing to be afraid of. I have no doubt you’ll fit in here, I am sure of it.” He traced her jawline affectionately before tilting her head up to bring her eyes to meet his, just like he did during her audition. “And, if I may be so bold, I would love to get to know you better. If you’ll have me, of course.” Y/N’s eyes widened as she swooned. She nodded as she stuttered slightly.

“I’d love to, Lestat. I would be honored.” Y/N felt her heart jump into her mouth. The gorgeous blonde vampire in front of her reveled in how flustered she looked as he spoke to her.

“Very well then, dear Y/N. We’ll continue our little conversation after your initiation tomorrow.”

Y/N gulped. “My…my what?!”

Lestat giggled slyly. “You heard me correctly, ma chérie. Welcome to the Theatre, darling. You’re one of us now as far as I’m concerned.”

“But…Armand said—” Lestat gently placed a finger over her lips to shut her up as he spoke lowly to her, sultry and dripping with desire.

“Shh, ma jolie fille…never mind what that manipulative gremlin Armand said.” Lestat let his finger gently drag across her bottom lip before letting it go. He brushed some of her hair behind her ear as he continued. “I’ll be seeing you backstage afterwards, yes?”

There was no way for him to be coy about his appetite for her any more than he had earlier. The vampire Lestat de Lioncourt, the Brat Prince himself, was anything but shy about his unquenchable thirst for Y/N; it only grew exponentially in the few hours since he met her.

Y/N felt as though the air had been knocked out of her lungs as she nodded. “Of course, Lestat. You will.” She smiled at him, trying to regulate her breathing.

Lestat smiled wickedly at her again. “Très bien, mon amour. I’ll see you then.” He caressed her face again before turning to walk away. “Bonne nuit, ma belle. Sweet dreams.”

Y/N could feel her heart pounding in her throat as she smiled. “Good night, Lestat. I hope you sleep well.” Blushing, she beamed at him, and he smiled back, a blush of his own on his face.

With that, they left the room. As she lifted the lid to her coffin next to the others to crawl inside it, Y/N gasped as she heard Lestat’s voice in her head again, stopping her momentarily.

Remember what I told you, ma petite fleur. There is nothing to worry your pretty little head with. And know this too, my darling: I don't bite...hard.

[bambisnc]

          . . BACKSTAGE <3

° ˖ ➴ in which you have .. an unusal pre-performance ritual.

### . STARRING ⌢ m.dn ⋆ fluff. + 0.9k // kissing, first kiss + reader is whipped ˖ ✧

🗨️ .. ⌞ XOXO ⌝ danielle save me danielle. same universe as te quiero hanni btw! might add more fics to the same univ w other members + [m.list]

being roped into the biggest event of your school – the festival that'd been on everyone's mind (but yours) for weeks now – had rather come as a surprise to you.

curse your pretty girlfriend, danielle, for misusing her obvious charm and influence on you. like you could have said no to those gorgeous eyes of hers.

“one of the comperes backed out last minute”, she’d told you, “could you please take her place? if there's anyone who can do it – it’s you.”

and, just like that, you had folded.

all your protests died on your lips as soon as she took your hand in both of hers and leaned in close, too close for comfort.

you felt like you could barely even think as a subtly alluring floral scent invaded your senses. messing with your head in the best way possible you barely realized you’d already given her your agreement when she excitedly giggled in that absolutely adorable way of hers and promised that the initiation ceremony would go absolutely perfect with you there <3.

so, with no way out, you allowed yourself to be swept up by rehearsals. your regret only kept building up in the remaining time upon finding out that you wouldn't actually get to spend any time with your girlfriend who had been your sole reason for saying yes.

finally, the morning of the much awaited event dawned. 

… and you realized just a tad bit too late that there was a problem. 

correction : there was a huge problem.

usually, to keep any potential pre-show jitters (or even panic attacks, in extreme cases) at bay, it is rather common for people to develop different practices that they ensure doing before performances; as a placebo, if nothing else. some prefer to spend time all alone, drink a very specific type of soda, make use of good luck charms, even. 

you just so happened to have one of these … rituals. nothing too crazy. all you “needed” for a smooth performance was a few minutes of mindless doomscrolling on any media platform that appealed to you at that moment. insta, twitter, hell – even youtube shorts had bangers occasionally. it calmed you. gave you a little dopamine boost to get through your nerves.

but the problem was that your phone was 1% away from dying on you. 

and no one seemed to have a charger at hand.

trying to convince yourself that everything would work out fine, it's just a silly little ritual, after all – did not work in the slightest. not after the string of disasters in the early morning practice runs. you’d stumbled over your words. forgotten entire chunks of your lines. so, clearly, you were struggling.

but then, as if sent by heaven's angels themselves, a curly head of hair peeked in. 

“danielle, i..” you’d said, “i don’t think i can do this.”

she tilted her head, confusion, worry clearly flashing on her features as she asked why that was. 

you wasted no time explaining – well, more like rambling – about your entire situation. your dying phone, your ritual and how you were convinced there was no way this entire thing wouldn’t crash and burn.

her brows knitted together as she pondered your theory all while you kept yapping and gesturing to make your point. and then, right before the cue for you to go on stage sounded, she stepped closer. 

the warmth radiating off her almost made you dizzy, “dani? what’re you-”

but before you could finish, she’d grabbed your collar, leaned in and kissed you.

her lips against yours were more than anything you could’ve ever imagined. soft, sweet, –  until suddenly, before you could even process it much less savor the moment, she pulled away. 

a quiet whisper left her which you’d barely even heard due to being too distracted by the fact that pressing in just a little closer would let you kiss her again.

“you got this, okay?”

and with that, she was (gently) shoving you out of the wings and only when the stage lights focused on you were you able to snap back to reality. 

“Greetings and welcome to one and all present here." you only vaguely register the words you're speaking, "Today we celebrate our prestigious school’s 20th anniversary with a variety of cultural showcases including …” 

she kissed you. 

“... Additionally, I would like to welcome our chief guest, an alumni of our school from the batch of ‘96…”

that was your first kiss. 

“... Lastly, I would like to invite the choir to present a mellifluous medley to kick off things after which the event will officially be declared open.”

and it was with danielle. your girlfriend. the prettiest girl in the world.

the kiss had definitely sent your brain short-circuiting.

but after having successfully finished up the opening speech, you realized with a jolt that it had been flawless. every word rolled out effortlessly, your nerves totally forgotten.

when you finally find yourself face to face with her again, had she been waiting backstage for you all this while?, you sternly try to confront her about it, hoping the heat rushing to your face doesn’t betray you, “marsh danielle.”

“i… i’ve heard kissing gives, like, dopamine?” she mumbles in her defense, her face just as flushed as yours despite the playful twinkle in her eyes. 

“...”

“...”

“…will you please kiss me again?.”

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[miguelsslvt]

Hello mother ❤❤😇 how your day going so far

i just wanted to ask you if you could make an bully!miguel x nerd!reader (virgin fem)

Where miguel very much loves to bully reader,maybe an little to much,loves to see her cry, loves to see an reaction from her,and especially when she vulnerable, but never show that side of him to reader,but he masterbate the thought of reader sucking his dick with tears running down her face,but It was until one day where reader was helping with one of the other nerd their, seeing her smiling to ear to ear made his blood boiling,vein popping,eyes cold as the negative zero,but he just walk off leaving,he already had an punishment in mind for reader, (whatever you want,you could put one) where miguel beat the crap out of the guy and making sure that the guy knew to never touch his nerd,and then the next day miguel locks her up with him in an empty classroom and nsfw part come here,😅🙂 just wants him to be an little possessive (that is definitely isn't an LITTLE but who care)

IDK ANYMORE just an request

😜

bully! miguel x nerd! virgin! reader smut

word count: 1.9k

TW: nsfw, smut, bullying, swear words, threats, miguel is lowkey a perv, loss of virginity.

A/N: FINALLY mother has posted!! quite a long one today, could u tell? welcome to the club!! ^^

you felt weak. helpless. Every time he would utter a word to you, it was never anything nice. Always spiteful. Big mean Miguel o’hara. The rudest but coolest boy in your whole year. You’d be like any girl, gawking and jumping circles around him, if it wasn’t for the way he treated you. You should be flattered, really. Considering all the attention and nicknames he gives you. Although, I wouldn’t say ‘freak’ or ‘know it all weirdo’ are considered ‘cute nicknames’.

He practically barred you from gaining any social status, let alone friends. and as much as Miguel does it to everyone, he liked to specifically target you. Why? god knows. All you know is that Miguel is an asshole. A big one.

——————————————————

It was AP English, and you were supposed to be studying for a Macbeth assignment coming up. Supposed to. That was until Peter Parker, who could possibly be the only other person in school that was as bullied as you, decided to sit beside you and ‘hang out’. Your teacher was on pretty good terms with you, so he didn’t mind having two nerds coddled up in the back of class talking about the latest ‘nyc best seller book’. However, when Miguel noticed you both talking in the back, he realised quickly that you two weren’t talking about book clubs.

‘He’s such a jerk, right?’ Peter said, as you were a giggly mess. You put your hand on peter’s as you crouched to laugh even more. Miguel’s eyes darkened. ‘He is! W-when he’s like, ‘oh yeah I’m the coolest kid in school’, when in truth no one actually likes him!’ You replied, as you and Peter clung onto each other, both laughing messes.

Miguel clenched his jaw, realising you must be talking about him. god, he never felt more rage then he did right now.

The truth was, Miguel did bully you. He knew that. he did it on purpose. Just watching you cry, watching you move away from him in the halls so he didn’t heckle you, that arose something in Miguel that made him smirk whenever you squirmed. However, you didn’t know that most nights when he got a reaction out of you, he would lock himself in his room and pull his cock so hard he’s as much of a mess as you were. Hell, he’s even caught himself whimpering your name a few times. But he wouldn’t ever admit it to you. I mean, its ridiculous! What popular asshole admits to the nerd of the school that he’s been touching himself just thinking about her?! His reputation would be ruined! but would he still do it? absolutely.

‘Honestly, I sometimes think flash is the meanest in our school.’ you say, as peter nods in agreement. ‘Yeah absolutely, either him or Miguel.’ He says, as you tilt your head. ‘Whys that?’ You ask, eyebrows furrowed. Peter raises an eyebrow. ‘I mean, cmon y/n, he’s horrible to you, he made you cry yesterday just because you took the last cake in the cafeteria!’ He said, chuckling. You look down. ’I dunno.. I mean he is a little mean to me but still, the difference between Miguel and flash is that Miguel is actually nice to his friends. flash is an asshole to everyone, including his own family.’ You admit.

Peter looks shocked. ‘I mean, you can’t be serio-‘ ‘been talking bad about me, Pete?’ A deep voice was heard. Your blood ran cold. You could see the fear on peter’s face. you both turned around, seeing Miguel towering above you both. You stood up immediately. ‘I- Miguel I don’t think peter meant it in a malicious way’ ‘I’ll deal with you in a second.’ Miguel snapped, as you looked down.

‘M-miguel I didn’t mean to-‘ Peter stammered, as Miguel scoffed. ‘You didn’t mean to? Oh yeah? So what, you weren’t just saying all that shit?’ He said, as Peter looked down. ‘I-i’m sorry.’ He stuttered, as Miguel clenched his fists. ‘You do anything like that again, I’ll get flash to fuck you up again. You hear me?’ He said threateningly, as he lifted his finger to tap on peter’s glasses. ‘Fixed your glasses huh? hm.. shame. Me and flash worked hard breaking them last semester.’ He mocked, as you looked away. The bell soon rang, and you and Peter quickly gathered your stuff to leave.

It was lunch, as you walked down the hall towards the cafeteria, you heard your ‘nickname’. ‘Hey, know it all!’ Miguel shouted out, as you turned around slowly. ‘Y-yes?’ You stuttered, as he grabbed your hand, pulling you into an empty classroom.

You squeaked, falling back into the wall, as Miguel locked the door beside you. ‘I-i didn’t m-mean to be mean last class Miguel i-i swear I-‘ ‘shut your mouth.’ He said, his voice deeper then usual. He turned around from you, as your face grew concerned. ‘A-are you okay?’ You asked. you hear him chuckle, turning towards you. ‘You’re supposed to be smart, but you can’t see what’s about to happen?’ He asked teasingly, moving closer to you. he stopped just as your noses touched, you could feel his hot breath on your lips.

‘..i-if this is some sick prank, it’s really mean.’ You whispered, refusing to look at Miguel in the eyes. He noticed that. ‘Look at me.’ He said, as you hesitantly look up at Miguel. ‘There she is.’ He teased, his finger lifting up your chin. ‘..y’know, I don’t actually think you’re ugly.’ He confessed, as your eyebrows rose.

You were confused. Very confused. ‘Wh-what are you..?’ You tried saying, as Miguel leaned closer to your lips. ‘Let me kiss you.’ He whispered, as your eyes widened. ‘..you-you hate me.’ You said, looking up at Miguel. He smirked. ‘Who says that?’ He teased. He leaned closer to your er. ‘I’ve been infatuated about you for a while now. I never knew why, but when I saw you with damn Parker.. it’s made me realise. Made me know for sure now that I want you.’ He confesses, as you gasped. ‘you.. what?’ you uttered out, as he leaned back towards your lips. ‘Can I kiss you?’ He asks, as you took a moment to digest what he just said.

Did Miguel O’hara just confess he liked you thew whole time he was bullying you? This is all too confusing for you. You should say no, you should go, you should push him away.

‘..yes.’ you muttered, as you watched Miguel’s eyes lighten up with something. Lust? Love? You’re not too sure. What you were sure about, however, was his lips on yours. It was a funny feeling, considering it was your first kiss.

His lips were warmer compared to yours, but they were soft. Too soft. As you both indulged in the kiss, his hands moved down towards your waist. You weren’t sure where to put your hands, so you just settled with his shoulders and hoped it was the right move.

He let go eventually, panting for air, as were you. He smirked. ‘You haven’t kissed anyone before, have you?’ He mocked. ‘Let me guess, you a virgin too?’ He spoke as you blushed, looking away. He moved his right hand to move your chin towards him. ‘Nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Let me take care of that for you.’ He said, his voice sultry.

before you could respond, Miguel grabbed your hips and led you to an empty desk, lifting you up onto it.

You squeaked again, as he just chuckled in response. ‘Who knew little crybaby nerd was such a compliant little girl?’ He teased, as you looked up at him, your face filled with embarrassment. His lips met yours once again, as he kissed you sensually. He lifted your uniform skirt up, his hands travelling up and down your thighs. You pulled away from the kiss slightly to gasp, as he sighed. ‘..you ok with this?’ He asked, as you looked down. Soon enough you looked up at Miguel, nodding. You put your hands on his necks, as you pulled him in for another kiss.

You both were indulged in the moment, and before you knew it, your panties were off and Miguel was unbuckling his belt. You looked down patiently, and honestly a little nervously, to see if the rumour of ‘big dick Miguel’ was true.

‘..it is true.’ You mumbled, eyes wide as his hardened 8 and a half inches stood with pride. He raised an eyebrow. ‘What was true?’ He asked, confused. ’n-nothing. I.. is it.. is it erm, y’know- gonna hurt?’ You asked, your voice shaky. He looked down at you, sighing. ‘It might. But it’ll feel good soon enough, trust me. Okay?’ He said, kissing you softly for what seemed like the first time ever.

He slowly pushed inside, as your eyes widened. Before he could get to more then the tip, you winced. ’S-stop!’ You said, as he stopped moving. ‘..l-let me just.. g-get used to it..’ You said head on Miguel’s shoulder. He tutted, stroking you hair. ‘Haven’t you even put a finger in there before? Damn it, darling, you’re tight..’ He said, kissing your head. eventually, you caught your breath. ‘..g-go deeper.’ You said, as he nodded patiently, pushing all of himself inside. You cried out, tears falling down your face, and something switched in Miguel again.

He couldn’t help himself. That sweet defenceless face of yours, hot with tears, was enough to make him start bucking his hips into yours. He pulled in and out, his hands stuck tightly on your hips, as you clawed on his shoulders, gasping and whining from the painful.. pleasure? Maybe Miguel it was right, maybe it does start to feel good after a while.

As you both got into a rhythm, the pain was overseen by the pleasure soon enough. You were moaning in Miguels ear, gasping. God this was like a dream for him. You were a squirming, whimpering mess, putty in his hands. And he loved every bit of it. ‘god.. you’re so fuckable.. w-who knew the nerd would be such a fucking cute little slut?’ He teased you, as you just moaned in response. ‘Told you it’d feel good, didn’t I? C’mon sweetheart, use your words.’ He cooed, your face scrunching up in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He moved his hand from your waist to your cheek, as he wiped some of your hair away. ‘Hm? Thought you were smart, sweetheart. Wheres all those big words now huh?’ Miguel whispered, as you felt your stomach getting hot. ‘I- m-miguel i-it feels weird..!’ You managed to moan out, as he moved his forehead to rest on your own. ‘You’re gonna cum sweetheart, thats why.. don’t worry, I am too. we can do it together, yeah?’ He panted, as you nodded.

Soon enough, you reached your high, as Miguel played with your clit, making your first orgasm fucking amazing. Your eyes rolled back, as you moaned loudly. As you started to come down, Miguel pulled out, and came on your thighs with a loud grunt. You both stayed for a moment like this, your foreheads leaning on one another, sweaty and panting. once Miguel caught his breath, he cleared his throat and fixed his pants, walking over to the empty teachers desk to find some tissues, walking back over to you as he silently cleaned your messy thighs. Once he was finished, he looked down at you, leaning closer. ‘..you okay?’ He asked quietly.

‘m..mhm.’ you choked out, looking down. ‘I-..I won’t tell anyone.’ You reassured, as he nodded, moving your skirt down. ‘..you should go to the bathroom before running to the cafeteria. Your hair is uh.. y’know.’ He said, as you blushed and nodded.

Miguel left before you, as you stood up and sighed, fixing your hair and uniform. You then looked around the classroom.

You’ll never be able to look at history classroom the same ever again.

[solarsturniolo]

wait i wanna hear about this frat boy 🫣

@zebonos GIRLLLL WHERE DO I EVEN START 😭😭

1. all of my friends say he’s ugly (he’s 6’3’’ sue me)

2. he snores SO LOUD

3. he punches and talks in his sleep

4. he has a cocaine addiction

5. he’s a bouncer at a bar that i’m a regular at

6. his head is too small and his eyes are uneven

7. he gets mad and insecure about my attraction to vinnie hacker

8. he is HORRIBLE at communicating (which was the ONE requirement i had when i agreed to let my friend set us up together. I said idc what he looks like, idc if he’s just wanting to fuck, he HAS to be good at communicating)

9. our second time together he marked me with hickies, begged me to stay the night, kissed me on my forehead, told me he wanted a future w me, etc

10. our 4th time together (we were awake for two hours mind you) he said he wanted to marry me 3 times, wanted to have kids with me 2 times, said i love you 4 times, planned what our engagement rings would look like, etc)

11. i ended up fucking his roommate and he had a talk with me about it. (“yeah…he’s a good guy, so much better than i could ever be for you…but whose bed are you in right now?”)

12. held my favorite pair of earrings hostage for a month

13. he does not like when i unadd him on snapchat and will ask ALL of my friends why im mad at him when ive told him i hate using snapchat for communicating bc its cancer.

14. he does not sleep in the dark

15. fucked a girl with an std

16. tried to get with me without telling me he fucked a girl with an std

17. tried to LIE about fucking a girl with an std

18. insane alcoholic. i watched him crush a 24 case of beer in two hours

19. doesn’t acknowledge me unless i’m actively ignoring him

20. he will STARE AT ME AND FOLLOW ME AROUND THE BAR ALL NIGHT if we are there at the same time (my friends have WITNESSED THIS HAPPENING) (( @megamett44-lover ))

21. will text me at 3:00-5:00 in the morning saying he needs to talk about stuff but i’m obviously ASLEEP

22. has not taken me on a proper date. (but he will buy my drinks and offers to buy me food if we go to cookout or mcdonald’s so i guess i can’t complain)

23. sleeps with socks on

24. hogs the blanket

25. doesn’t take out his trash and lets it pile up in his room

26. he has an awful haircut

27. left me alone immediately after sex for 23 minutes to go watch his roommate get his head shaved (no aftercare) and then was confused why i wouldn’t speak to him

28. did i mention he snores? did i also mention i get MAYBE an hour of sleep if i spend the night because its so bad??

29. tries to convince me not to make him use a condom

30. threw a fit one time bc a vinnie hacker edit came up on my phone so, in retaliation, he decided to look at thirst traps and sexual audios on tiktok for half an hour. i told him it was making me uncomfortable and told him to stop about six times and he only did when i threatened to leave.

31. would call me princess after i specifically told him NOT to do that.

32. beer pong with a bunch of his frat brothers is apparently a ‘date’ in his eyes…

33. didn’t acknowledge me at a party we were both attending until his buddy basically told him i wasn’t gonna keep pursuing him lmao

34. got so shit faced at the bar that he kept telling his frat brothers “isn’t she so pretty” “god im with the prettiest girl in (insert city name) right now” “im about to post her on my story” “should i buy her flowers” and i was so uncomfortable that i almost left the bar. (i had told him i wasn’t looking for anything serious and that pda made me uncomfortable)

35. he deadass chugged nyquil in front of me “to help him sleep”

36. has roaches in his bathroom (frat house)

37. refuses to smoke weed but will do 6 lines easy peasy???

38. not smart

39. thinks he can manipulate me (he can’t and it drives him crazy that i don’t fall for it)

40. asked me to find someone (female) to have a threesome with us (every inquiry made the same face before saying “no thanks”)

41. He hyper sexualizes my attraction to women

42. asked me if i’d block every guy in my phone for him (we had been talking for two weeks)

43. he’s an asshole to his dog and calls him mean names and hits his snout and shoves him around

44. he is persistent on trying to get me to blow him (i don’t do blowjobs. he knows this. still tries.)

45. he blew $160 gambling at the bar the night we went out 💀

46. he’s younger than me and extremely immature

47. he thinks listening to chief keef is an unheard of personality trait. (“i know all of the lyrics to Love Sosa” okay, so do 9 million other people)

Dude i could go on and on about this mf he’s WEIRD.

[cressidagrey]

Something good and right and real - Chapter 3

Summary:

Azriel had spent centuries believing that he of all people didn't deserve a mate. And if anything, the last three years had just galvinised that particular belief. And then he meets her.

The first time Oriana met Azriel, she thought that he reminded her of a skittish cat. Shy and a little bit broken. Good for him that she absolutely excelled in fixing the things around her.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Azriel has a horrible time

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

“What exactly are you doing?” Oriana finally asked after she had spent a good five minutes watching Azriel fuss at his armour. 

She had first started watching because seeing the way the scars wrapped around his hand fascinated her. And then she continued to watch because, for the life of her, she couldn’t understand what he was trying to achieve. 

He was keeping her company in the forge for the evening, mostly because he would be going away for a few days somewhere. She didn’t ask, he didn’t volunteer…she just hoped it wouldn’t end with him bruised and dazed sitting at her kitchen table again.  

“I burned out one of my siphons. So I need to fix that,” Azriel answered, still fussing with it, until finally he managed to pop out the siphon…out of a side seam?

Now, she was interested. She watched more carefully, having realised that he had opened one of the side seams as the siphon was held in place between the two layers of leather. 

It was the stupidest construction method she had ever seen. 

“Why do you take apart the whole armour for that?” she asked him carefully. What was she missing? 

“It’s not armour. It’s fighting leathers,” he corrected her with some amusement. 

She just raised an eyebrow and he held them out for her perusal. 

She took them, and one quick look made her realise that there wasn’t one bit of metal in there at all. It was all just…leather. Not even particularly thick in places. How was that supposed to stop anybody from stabbing him?

“Is there a specific reason why you don’t wear armour?” she asked him. Wouldn’t that…be much safer? 

“I need to move to be able to fly,” Azriel gave back like it was crystal clear why he couldn’t possibly wear anything but this. 

Still, Oriana couldn't believe that there wasn’t a way to somehow make the metal work so that it wouldn’t be too heavy for him to carry around and also not impede his movement. 

That was just impossible. 

She stared at the hole that held the Siphon in place, thinking back to the leather straps with a similar construction method that she had seen wrapped around his hands. 

“And why do you take it apart to put a new siphon in?” she asked. 

Why like that? Why not some kind of setting, where the siphon was held in place and there was a mechanism to remove it easily? A setting that didn’t mean that he spent a good 20 minutes easing it out of the place it was.

“It’s the only way to do it. It’s held in place between the layers of leather,” Azriel explained, grasping hold of the chest piece and showing her the hole. 

“Is there a reason why it’s done like that?” she finally asked. “Do the siphons get hot with use so they would melt metal or…” she trailed off and he shook his head. 

“No?” he responded questioningly. “This is just…how it always was,” he admitted. 

Right. And because this was how it always was nobody ever thought about the idea that maybe…maybe there was another way? A better way?

Oriana’s mind was already reeling with all her ideas to improve it. This was what she used to do. She found something that already existed and then she perfected it. 

“Do you have an old set of these that I can borrow?” she asked, still staring at the black leather. 

She had used to do leather work, more of a hobby than anything, and she hadn’t been bad at it…if she had something that she could copy…then she had a chance. 

“Why?” Azriel asked her. 

“Because I am going to fix your Siphon problem,” Oriana said drily.  “Or do they have some kind of religious significance that I should be aware of and trying to make them better is blasphemy?” she wondered and he snorted. 

Out of thin air, suddenly the shadows dropped an old pair of fighting leathers on her workbench and she couldn’t help but grin. 

“Thank you!” she sing songed. “Do you also have some old siphons I can use? Burned-out ones preferably that are still intact?” They were dropped right next to the fighting leathers moments later. “There we go,” she said pleasantly. “I’ll get back to you in 3 to 5 business days, Azriel,” she told him, already pulling the old set of fighting leather closer to herself for a new perusal. 

She was going to fix this and they were going to be so much better when she was finally finished with them. 

“You don’t need to do this,” Azriel finally said quietly and she looked up to find him staring at her, dark eyes earnest. “You don’t need to…” he trailed off, seemingly searching for the right words. 

Right. 

She still had her work cut out for her on that front. 

She came back around her workbench, walking towards him who was still sitting in the chair that she had gotten him…and then sat sideways down on his lap, ignoring the soft noise of shock that he made. 

She settled the dress she wore around him, as always floor length, tight around the waist, laced shut at the back. 

Even when she no longer lived in the mountain, she was still…more comfortable in the fashion off the mountain than she was with the cropped tops and flowy pants of the Night Court. 

Azriel said nothing as she made herself comfortable, scarcely breathing as she settled on his lap, curling one hand around the back of his neck. 

“Look at me,” she murmured, waiting until hazel eyes settled on her. She took in the flecks of emeralds in the dark brown that reminded her of a smoky, dark and beautiful quartz. A thumb gently swiped over his cheekbone, holding him like he was the most precious thing in her life.“You are my mate ,” Oriana said. 

“And you still don’t need to do this,” Azriel disagreed. She smiled at him, softly, leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his lips. Her necklace warmed in warning and she pulled back slightly. 

“I am always going to do anything in my power to make your life easier for you,” she whispered. “I want to do this. I am going to do my damnest to keep you safe. Even when it’s the last thing I do.”

 It was the most she could say right now, the most she wanted to say. She wasn’t sure if it was enough, but it was the right words because there was Azriel, his eyes bright and near golden as suddenly strong arms pulled her against him tightly, burying his face against her neck. He said nothing. 

She said nothing as well, just trailed a hand through the edges of his hair and hummed softly. 

Still, it made her wonder if he ever had that before. A person willing to go to the ends of the world to keep him safe. A person willing to make his job even a little bit easier. She didn’t think so, especially not if such tiny things garnered this sort of reaction. 

The more puzzle pieces she collected that made Azriel who he was…the more Oriana’s temper flared. 

Not at him. 

Never at him. Not when he had done absolutely nothing other than thinking that she was going to turn him away again every time he turned up on her doorstep. Not when he thought that clearly, she deserved so much better than him, regardless of how ridiculous that notion was. 

At all the people surrounding him who seemingly took and took from him and never thought about the consequences of their actions. 

There was seemingly only her who was there to protect him when Azriel took on the world of the world on his broad shoulders and didn’t expect anybody to help him, to take some of the weight off him.

And Oriana was going to do her damnest to keep him safe. 

And so, when he left for his next mission, she handed over the shop to the two females she kept hiring for a few hours then and there, and buried herself in her work. 

She didn’t just do things that involved Azriel. She still needed to keep her shop stocked, though Azriel was at the forefront of her mind. 

Always was. Especially with his tendrils of shadows keeping her company. 

She talked to them, a non-stop commentary on her work and sometimes they answered her once again. Most of the time they stayed wrapped around her wedding necklace and out of the way as she soldered and engraved. 

She wasn’t one step closer to a prototype of armour that was actually useful and not just something that would hinder his movement, but she did manage to solve the Siphon problem in less than the 3 to 5 business days she had told him. 

Mostly because after she had spent a day trying to solve it the magical way and nearly signed off her eyebrows because siphon didn’t like it at all if you put magic on them that wasn’t the magic that they had been locked onto in the first place apparently…well, Oriana had solved it the mechanical way. 

A holder that slid in the hold the siphon had used to sit in that the siphon then clipped onto from the outside. To open it, you needed a simple screwdriver and it would take less than 3 minutes to change it out. She knew that. She had tested it. 

And as in the evenings she crawled into her bed and left her forge behind…Oriana was happy. She had missed this. 

There was only so much jewellery she could make which was a challenge to her. 

All the things she sold these days were not a challenge to her anymore. 

But having a problem and figuring that out… made her fingers itch to go back for more. 

And so she did. 

The longer she spent in her forge, the happier she was, giddy with excitement, her brain flowing over with ideas upon ideas of other things to make, to create, to enchant, to learn and to work…

She couldn’t even remember the last she had felt like that. 

She was in a good mood when Azriel suddenly stepped out of the shadows a few days later, even when she nearly lost control of the flames that danced in her hands as she finished with the pieces she had been working on. 

She looked up, decided that she was jealous of his shadow-travelling abilities and then pushed up her magnifying glasses into her hair, only to hop off from her stool and happily throw herself at Azriel who caught her with a surprised oomph. 

“You are in a good mood,” he told her with a laugh, the sound one of the most beautiful things she had ever heard. 

Oriana grinned wildly at him. 

“I spent all my time in my forge, I solved your Siphon problem, I still have no clue about armour, and I need to do some research, but it was so much fun!” she told him excitedly, as he leaned down to press a kiss against her unresisting lips. 

“Want to show me?” he asked her and her grin widened. 

She got to show off her new toys to somebody willing to listen to her ramble on? Perfect. 

He did watch her new Siphon mechanism with the kind of intense focus that she had gotten used to from him, fingers carefully probing the edges and listening to her. 

“Test it in training. Tell me if you have any problems that I need to iron out. I’ll fix it and then we go again,” she told him as she pressed them into his hands. 

“You are remarkable, Oriana,” Azriel said quietly and she couldn’t help but blush. 

“Well, thanks on remarking on it,” she quipped but pressed his hand in thanks. “And now as you have listened to me ramble on and on, what’s new in your life?” 

He snorted in amusement at that segway. 

“Do you have any plans this afternoon?” he asked her and she stared at him. 

“No?” she answered. “Penelope has the shop in hand for the day…she can lock it up too, if…we have somewhere to be?” she told him questioningly and he nodded. 

“I want you to learn to defend yourself,” Azriel told her earnestly. 

He looked like he was getting ready for an argument but Oriana was really not holding out to argue with him, right now when she just got him back. And really, how bad could it possibly be? 

“Alright,” she agreed and he looked so taken aback by her agreement that she couldn’t help but laugh at his dumbstruck expression. “What, did you expect me to complain?” she teased him.

“You keep surprising me,” he muttered under his breath. “I should be getting used to it now.”

“I’ll keep you on your toes,” Oriana corrected him brightly. “And if me learning to defend myself gives you any kind of peace…then I’ll do it,” she promised. 

It was such a small thing for her to give him. She could spend a few hours a week trying to learn it. What was the worst that could happen? 

The last thing she had expected was for him to suddenly push her back against her workbench or the way his hungry mouth descended on her…but Oriana was nothing if not highly adaptable. Hey, her mate wanted to make out with her, she was on board with that . 

Especially if that meant that she could bury her hands in his wavy curls and keep him as close to her as possible, as his tongue hungrily licked into her mouth and she moaned in response. 

The necklace of her throat warmed up, heated up to something that would have burned another person and for her was nothing more than a nuisance. (She really needed to figure out how to deal with it.) 

Still, she pushed it out of her mind, because she was going to do her best to enjoy that lovely kiss, to feel Azriel wrapped around her, and even ignore the way her workbench was biting into her hip. After all, it meant that he was still keeping her cornered against it, broad chest and arms casing her in. 

He pulled back a moment later, pupils blown wide, breathing hard. 

“I…sorry,” he apologised, his voice hoarse. 

Oriana wasn’t having that. 

“Don’t. It’s all good,” she told him fiercely, pressing another peck on his lips. 

“I still have both my arms,” he said nearly wonderingly and she couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Definitely not complaining,” she promised him. (Note to herself: Fix that stupid necklace.) 

He stepped back and she let him go, even when there was heat knotting low in her belly in a way that she…couldn’t even remember. 

Azriel cleared his throat. 

“I brought these for you,” he told her, holding out a a pair of knives that were very much not the ornamental, gem-studded ones that she made. 

These were far more practical. “I know you can make your own, but these are a bit more practical than your works of art,” he explained, reaching out for her hands and placing one of them into them. He mustered it for a moment, changing her grip until she held them in a way that he judged to be right. “They should be lightweight enough for your hands. Looks about right for size,” he murmured under his breath.  

“Am I supposed to throw these?” she asked him finally and he shook his head. 

“No. Stab people, yes,” he told her seriously. He said that like that was fully something he expected in her future and she wanted to grimace at that. Her people kept out of fighting and wars out of principle. “We’ll practice, of course,” he added. 

That was probably for the best. Just so that she didn’t accidentally stab herself. 

“Alright,” she agreed. “…So where do you want to practice?“ Oriana asked him. “I don’t think the forge is a good space for it.“ 

It was probably. going to mess up her careful organisation that only she understood. And she would much rather not fall into her own fire. She would be fine, but her clothing wouldn’t. And she liked the dress she wore. 

“It’s definitely not. Not enough room,” Azriel agreed. “So…how do you feel about flying?” he asked her, a hesitant smile on his face. 

Oh. 

Oh, yes.

“Well, I am willing to try anything once,” she finally said. Did that mean that she was finally going to see his wings in all their glory? 

“Do you have anything to wear that’s not a gown?” Azriel asked her and she stared at him. 

“Well, will somebody that wants to hurt me allow me the time to change my clothing?” she gave back drily. “Shouldn’t I train in the clothing that I would most likely wear when I need to use my newfound fighting abilities?” 

She much preferred gowns over trousers. 

“You are right,” he agreed and she shrugged. 

“I often am,” she quipped. “So, do we need to go on the roof or something?”

They did not need to go on the roof. They did find themselves in her stamp-sized backyard though, and the wings unfurled off his back with one single stroke. 

They were bigger than she thought they would be. That was her first thought. They were massive . They reminded her of a bat, with their black colour, though it seemingly shifted through a dark rainbow as the spring sun shone through them, shoving every vein. They were tipped with claws, so sharp that it seemed like he had honed them like she had seen him do with his blades. 

It was…beautiful. 

She couldn’t help the shocked sound that escaped her.

“You are beautiful,” she whispered, still staring at them. They shifted again, nearly like they had a mind of their own as Azriel held out a hand for her and she took it, because what else was she supposed to do? 

He pulled her closer to him. 

“You need to hold onto me. I won’t let you fall,” he promised her. She swallowed. 

It had seemed great in theory. In practice, it scared the shit out of her to be completely honest. 

“You have done this before, right?” she asked hesitantly and she could nearly feel the amusement rolling from him in waves. 

“Yes,” he promised her. “I swear, you’ll be perfectly safe,” he told her. “I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”

“Alright,” she agreed, carefully holding onto the back of his neck with both hands as he leaned down slightly to hoist her up like she weighed nothing at all. 

And then, with one mighty flap of these enormous wings, they were airborne. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The noise that she made when he launched them into the sky was something between a squawk and a whimper, her hands clawing themselves into his leathers, and she kept her eyes tightly closed. 

He did his best to keep his movement as even as he could, easily adjusting to the extra weight that he was carrying. 

“Are you alright?” he asked her when they had finally reached a proper height and he turned towards the mountains and the forest. He had a clearing in mind for their training, somewhere where there would be more than enough space for them to move around freely. 

“I think I just realised that I am terrified of heights,” Oriana admitted and he bit back a laugh, feeling the wind whip around them. “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Oriana complained.“Leave me alone, I was literally born underground.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologised but couldn’t help against the laugh bubbling up inside him. 

Every time he was with her, he felt so much lighter. Like all the weight in the world had been taken off his shoulders. Something in Oriana made him feel invincible. 

She still kept her eyes closed, her lips tightly pressed together.  “I am not going to let you plummet to your death,” he promised her instead. 

He wasn’t. And there was a part of him that wanted Oriana to love flying as much as he did. Love the feeling of freedom that it brought, the wind that was whipping around them, the sigh of Velaris beneath them. 

“I trust you, I don’t trust my stomach,” Oriana shot back. 

“Come one, just one look,” he cajoled her.  She blinked open one eye, staring over his shoulder.

Her stomach held strong and he relaxed as he felt her muscles stop being quite as locked up as they had been. “Sometimes I forget how beautiful Velaris is,” she said softly, the muscles that held her close to him relaxing a tiny bit. He chalked that up as a win as he circled the forest until he started a slow descent that brought her to cling to him tighter once again. 

He took more care to land than he would have if it was just him, making sure that she wasn’t jostled all too much and then slowed to a stop right there in the middle of this clearing. 

It was just at the edges of the land belonging to his house and there was a reason for that. If something went wrong, he would only need to push Priana over the ward boundaries he had set and she would be as safe as he could manage. 

“Alright?” he asked her and she hummed. 

“I’ll get used to it,” she murmured and he couldn’t help a grin, because that wasn’t a I am never going to do this again, you lunatic.

He let her down to stand on her own two feet, even when he would have gladly kept holding on to her for longer. 

“So, you promised me to show how to stab somebody?” she asked him and he couldn’t help but grow serious.

He wished that he didn’t need to teach her that. But he wasn’t stupid. And he was very much aware that Oriana was the biggest weakness anybody could exploit. He would lay waste to an entire world to protect her.

“We’ll start with the most important thing,” he told her and she raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Don’t stab myself?” she suggested and he snorted. 

“That’s a given,” he gave back. “Balance. You don’t want to be knocked off kilter.” 

He demonstrated the way every Illyrian boy was taught so that he could move in any direction immediately and easily. 

Slightly bent knees, ready to be attacked at a moment's notice. Keep on your feet, because if you don’t, you are dead. 

Oriana watched him, moving slightly. It was hard to tell if she had the stance right, especially with her swathed in the long dresses she tended to favour. They were modest to a fault, with a high neckline, and sleeves that always at least reached her elbows, leaving her hands and forearms free, because otherwise, she was going to accidentally set them on fire while working in the forge. Swishing along the floor at the wide hem. 

Still, this would be easier, if she wasn’t wearing them. 

His brain came to a screeching halt. 

If she was wearing trousers . 

Trousers. Not…not nothing at all, that wasn’t what…

Yeah, that was exactly what had been engraved into his mind now and he swallowed against the sudden stab of arousal.

“Azriel?” Oriana prodded, staring at him. 

“If you stand like this, you can move easily,” he said calmly, his voice not betraying everything that he had thought about just moments before. 

She moved a step to the left, then to the right, a hand tucking up her skirts so that he could see the surprisingly sensible and sturdy leather boots that she wore on her feet. 

He opened his mouth to correct her, but she already moved her feet exactly like he would have corrected her. 

“Oh, it’s like dancing!” she exclaimed happily. He blinked. 

Well, he supposed, it was…not that different? 

“You like dancing?” he asked her dumbly. 

Oriana nodded, a fond smile taking over her face. “I do. In the mountain, we used to dance every evening after dinner. I miss that,” she said softly. “One of the few things that I miss from there.”

“What don’t you miss?” he couldn’t help but ask. He was still hoarding every bit of knowledge he got to have about her and feeling horrible that he couldn’t get his mouth open to tell her much if anything about himself. It was like…there was a block there that he could do nothing against. 

“The fact that you are surrounded with the same people day in and day out. I was my mother’s daughter and that brought with it some…courtly duties of sorts. There wasn't really much to do other than being in the forge and dancing after dinner,” Oriana said with a shrug. “In Velaris…I can go out and about as I please and nobody gives me a second look.”

He could understand that. 

“So I move like that?” she asked him and he nodded. 

“Yes. Try to keep the distance between us the same,” he told her. Oriana frowned, brow furrowing in concentration. 

He stepped forward, and she stepped back, easily keeping her balance. 

And so they continued. He was surprised at how quickly she caught onto it, and that she had a surprising amount of stamina but then he supposed, she spent her days in the forge, using a surprising amount of magic and strength to bend metal to her will. 

“Alright. Good job,” he said, her cheeks growing pink. He held out one of the knives he had bought for her and she palmed it carefully. He reached out to correct her grip so that it wouldn’t go flying the first time she moved faster. “Try to get used to the weight.” She nodded. 

They picked it up again. 

The knife didn’t seem to match her, not when he had seen the kind of knives she made. Deadly works of art. just like the hairpins she had made. Nesta had gotten a kick out of them. 

These weren’t the prettiest knives he could have picked out, he had bought a lovely one set with ruby and given it to Morrigan, mostly because he had felt horrible that he had given Feyre and Nesta both gifts and hadn’t given one of his oldest friends one. 

He called an end to that round of practice quite quickly. 

“Good. Now try to stab me,” he told her and Oriana stared at him. 

“Excuse me?” she asked him. 

“Try to stab me,” he repeated. 

“This is life steel. What if I hurt you?” she asked him and he bit back a smile. 

“You won’t,” he assured her.

“How could you possibly be sure?” Oriana said, crossing her arms. “I could have beginner’s luck! I don’t want you to bleed out!”

He considered that. “Fine.” He held out a sheath for the knife. “Put the sheath on, and try to hit me with the covered blade. Go as hard and as fast as you possibly can. And I’ll show you why I am sure.”

He’s genuinely impressed by how hard and fast she moved. Still, he was faster. 

He didn’t survive 500 years without honing his reflexes. And so he caught her wrist in his hands, as gently as he could, gently enough not to bruise her and held down her weapon away from him. 

“See,” he whispers in her ear, breathing in the scent of warmth and fire and she grinned at him, the fire in her eyes flaming. 

He hadn’t actually thought that he would enjoy this any more than sitting in the forge with her. Enjoy it because he liked spending time with Oriana and not enjoying it because…well. 

Still, seeing her with a knife was surprisingly appealing. 

He hadn’t expected that. 

He didn’t think that he would like to see her in an actual battle, he would be too worried about her but like this, right here, where he knew that nothing bad was going to happen…and she had some fun with it, a grin covering her face…

He did enjoy it. 

She stepped back, and he let go of her, only for her to lunge for him again. 

And so they continued until she had enough, sweat covering her forehead. The sun was starting to come down and on the flight back to her house she was watching Velaris wide-eyed over his shoulder. 

All in all…a pretty good way to spend his afternoon. 

He was still in a good mood the next day, even when Cassian cornered him and had for some cauldron-blessed reason decided that…Azriel didn’t even know. 

The only thing he did know was that Cassian was really interested in the knife that he bought Mor. 

“Where did you get it from?” Cassian asked him and Azriel just stared at him. 

“I picked it up in a market in the Summer Court?” he answered. “I saw it and I thought Mor would like it.”

It wasn’t even a lie. 

“It’s…nice that you…thought of her,” Cassian said, even when his words were in stark contrast to his facial expression. 

“Cass…just spit it out,” Azriel said with a sigh. “What does it matter that I bought Mor a knife?”

Why should Cassian even care? If his brother was pissed off that he gave Nesta a pair of hairpins at least that would make sense. She was his mate after all. But about Mor and a stupid knife? 

“I just mean that…Mor and Emerie are really happy together,“ Cassian blurted out. 

So what, did Cassian think that Azriel was trying to steal Mor from her girlfriend? 

But as he looked at his brother, he realised that that was probably exactly what Cassian was thinking. 

“Yeah, they are,” Azriel agreed. Cassian stared at him like he had gone insane. “Cassian, whatever you are thinking…that’s not why I bought Mor the knife,” he said drily. 

“Well, why did you?” Cassian challenged him. 

“Because I bought Feyre paint and I got Nesta these hairpins,” Azriel gave back drily. “Seemed unfair to Mor.“ 

“Az, you hate giving people gifts,” Cassian said, sounding aghast. 

Yeah, he did. Or at least he hated trying to desperately come up with one and failing horribly. 

But none of these things had taken any time out of his day. They had appeared before him and he had thought the recipient would like them. Maybe he should just start to stockpile gifts away over the whole year for solstice. Why hadn’t he come up with that decades prior? 

“Yes, I do,” he agreed, “but I just across them,” he said with a shrug. “Don’t worry I’ll bring you back something next time if you feel like I am neglecting you,” he teased Cassian who made a squawking sound in protest. “Maybe some flowers.” 

“You are an asshole,” Cassian said darkly. 

Azriel bit back a smile. 

[natspookie]

petal

natasha romanoff x fem!florist

☆ summary : natasha takes a detour to a flower shop

an, not proofread and sloppy :,)

not born with much wealth in the city, nor nothing, nature was what grounded you. by the age of 6 you were drawing your future flower shop as your dream job.

sure enough, you worked your way to putting up your own flower shop, just as you dreamt of.

you had many customers that you saw at least once a week, knowing which ones they picked out at the back of your mind.

you were just about finished with an arrangement of daisies and baby breaths when the sound of the white french doors opening, caught your attention.

you looked up to see a redhaired woman that you had never seen in your flower-shop. you brightened, hoping to make a new friend.

she looked around quietly, only the sound of your music playing softly, when she halted in front of some specific flowers to the left of the cashier.

“those are my favorites, very pretty ones” you said as she looked as if she were deciding whether to get them

“what are they called?” she said with a hoarse voice, almost ever so quietly,

“aster amellus… you looking for anything in particular?” your eyebrows raised curiously when you finally met her green eyes.

“oh, no. i-um- i don’t know much about flowers” half lie, she knew of the venomous ones.

“well i’d be happy to entertain any questions if you’d like” you tilted your head a little as she turned back to the purple flowers she was looking at earlier.

truth be told, natasha just saw you from outside and decided she would have made a big mistake if she just walked right past your shop.

“would you mind helping me pick for the dining or living room” she looked back at you

“hmm.. i’ve got a lot of ideas in mind” you giggled resting your elbow on the marble counter and your head on your hand, thinking about it.

“surprise me” she said with a small smile

“would you like a variation or only one kind?” you stood up from your stool and only then did the redhead take in your full figure.

only a few inches shorter than her, you wore a navy blue and white maxi dress with ribbons as the strap. hair tied up in a half pony tail.

you wandered around the shop, picking some quite loud flowers and some quiet ones in contrast.

natasha couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. you radiated such softness she had never felt.

she on the other hand, wore a sweater steve had knitted with some black pants.

“i take probably 5 minutes or so to arrange these, would you mind waiting ?” you made your way in front of her.

“i don’t mind at all” she said staring as you smiled “alright” you grabbed a stool for her and set it in front of your counter and cashier spot.

“so what’s your name, if you don’t mind?” she paused for a moment.

“natasha”

“natasha” you repeated. her name rolled off your tongue so smoothly she took her seat, fiddling with her fingers. “that’s a lovely name”

“thank you, what about you?” she eyed your top for a nametag. “no name tag” she smirked

“i find it better to see who cares enough to ask” you laughed, cutting some stems off. “it’s y/n”

“nice to meet you” natasha reached her hand out impulsively. she was screaming a handful of swear words in her head. ‘this is so stupid’ ‘a handshake? - really natasha?!’

you looked at her hand and smiled widely “i love a good handshake” you took her hand and shook it before going back to what you were doing.

“since this is for your dining room or living room, would you want a vase? instead of me wrapping this in paper”

“whatever it needs” natasha laughed “sure” a smile crept onto your face as you arranged the flowers in a clear vase.

“voilà!” you turned it to her and though she didn’t know any of the names of the flowers in this areangement, she found it as stunning as the one who made it.

“it’s great, thanks y/n. i’ll pay in cash” you put the vase with flowers in a bag so it wouldn’t be so hard to carry.

”the vase is on the house” you sent her a playful wink which left her mind spiraling.

“you didn’t have to, but i appreciate it” natasha took bag and smiled at you.

“well i hope you enjoy the flowers and come back, natasha” “oh i will, sweetheart” her confidence came back as she inched away from you, earning you to shake your head with laughter.

—————

the next time you saw natasha was a week after she last came. this time, she entered with a frown, holding an empty vase.

you waved goodbye to a customer and greeted her with a smile.

“you need to tell me how you keep them alive” she set the vase down and slumped against the counter.

“oh no natasha, what happened” you stifled a laugh, amused by this.

“well i forgot to ask what i needed to do so i just left it there and by the time i realized i needed to take care of it, it was too late”

“you left it alone for one week” you raised a brow

“maybe” she murmured looking behind you

“would you like a new set of flowers?” you asked “please” “the same kind?”

“surprise me”

it went the same as last time, except she stayed to talk more even after you finished.

“do you mind if we exchanged numbers? y’know.. so i can call you for help or text?”

‘wow natasha, smooth’ she thought

“sure! here you go” you handed her your phone and she did the same.

“i have to go, but thank you for this” she raised the vase with flowers

“my pleasure! i hope you enjoy, dont kill the flowers, and come back again soon natasha” you waved and she did the same

——-

after chatting almost every day about random things, natasha came back 2 more times before she came again, without the vase.

“oh don’t tell me you broke the vase” you said cocking you head with your hand on your hip

“ha ha, very funny y/l/n” “so what’s the flowers for today?”

“i want aster amellus and whatever you think someone would like to receive”

“natasha dating someone??? wooo” you giggled

“yeah-yeah im not so sure” natasha shook her head, sitting on the stool you always have out for her.

“well now i have to make this extra for whoever they are! but come on, any person would be lucky to go out with you” natasha laughed “what about you? any plans for tonight?” natasha asked you

“unfortunately not, probably watching a shitty movie or somethin” natasha hummed

“vase or paper?” “paper” natasha leaned forward in the counter, overlooking all the wrapping. “payment” natasha slid the bill forward and you thanked her

“here you go” you handed it to her and she smiled

“y/n?” “hm?” “for you.. if you wanna have dinner and watch a shitty movie together tonight”

you stopped breathing for a moment

“...me?” you asked baffled “who else?” natasha smiled coyly “no offense but.. you can do way much better” you accepted the flowers from her

“is this you rejecting me?” she raised a brow “no! just- thank you” “you’re thanking me for asking you out?” “kinda” “you’re silly, petal” “petal, i like that” you smiled “pick you up by 8:30! don’t be late”

“i wouldn’t dream of it”

[no1heyyyyyyyy]

Sevika's tastes

Sevika is an old lady and she just wants to be left alone. She likes to look good but when it comes to clothes, Miss thing just doesn’t care that much. She always has practicality in mind. So, no dresses, nothing flowy, has to have natural fabrics so that her skin can breathe, and she requires that things are comfortable. Her shoes are always made for hardware with a strong sole and often reinforced. In the modern world, I see her working in metal working (specifically welding), so she has to have clothes that are multipurpose. Though, if she was forced to wear anything really nice, it would be a simple well-cut blazer and a button down with jeans or slacks that conform to her legs nicely. She prefers earthy colors, nothing too flashy. I think she’d really appreciate a nice dark green, or perhaps brown. I also feel that she would enjoy a nice flannel regularly.

With food, I’m afraid her palette is as unrefined as her clothing choices. She genuinely does not care what she eats, though she really likes chicken- loves hot wings, spicy food is her love. But, her comfort food will always be the food native to what part of India her family is from. I don’t think she’s the best cook, but she has a few family recipes that she knows so well (aloo gobi, chai, samosa, tikka masala, saag paneer). And, I think that on nights where she’s feeling really sad or lonely she always craves those foods. She’d love to cook with or for her partner, it’d be the best way to get to know her honestly. Because it allows for her to show vulnerability through actions and without words. She loves to take care of people and I think in modern times she’d mother her friends just a bit, always making sure they’re eating well, drinking their water, and sleeping right (if not she’ll give them some chai). She doesn’t eat beef or dark meats in general, and she isn’t the biggest fan of seafood or turkey. So, she sticks with her chicken and her paneer. She’ll eat tofu but it needs to be in curry or something similar.

This woman would love 80s hair metal, music is something that I genuinely believe she’d love so much. She’d play drums as a teenager, dead set on becoming the drummer of the next Metallica. She’d also love the old school heavy metal bands, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Black Sabbath, Pantera. She’d love them all. I think she’d like some old school 90s rap too, but none of the new-age mumble rap that’s going on. She wouldn’t really like Taylor Swift’s music, just because it didn’t vibe with her, but she respected Taylor’s ability to get a bag. She has had a huge crush on Adele ever since she heard the album 25 when it came out. She liked some of her music, but thought Adele was drop dead gorgeous and all mature and soulful and shit, hit her in the feels and made her whipped for this woman she didn’t even know.

For movies she loves shitty 80s slasher horror, nothing that makes her think. She’d sit back in her old recliner in her pajamas and house slippers whilst watching Slumber Party Massacre for the third time, and then put on Golden Girls because she feels that Dorothy Zbornak is her spirit animal. She likes a good sitcom too and a ridiculous drama (she loves Desperate Housewives), she likes the camp, the over the top acting and dumb plots, it makes her laugh and feel care free in a way she hasn’t been in a long time. She just wants to curl up with her pets (she would have many) and watch teen-based tv shows that revolve around crime or secrets (Pretty Little Liars, Riverdale, Vampire Diaries, even Buffy etc.). She likes how bad they are, but she gets so invested it’s ridiculous.

For personal scents she’d like more woody, alluring scents that are also kind of sweet. Think Amber by Rag n’ Bone (it smells so good), she doesn’t spray much, just a spritz, it wafts around her just slightly, just enough for women to fall at her feet. Her individual smell wouldn't be overpowering but it would definitely be clear. It’s grounding and soothing. Her sweat stinks though, every time she comes back from the gym, she goes straight to the showers because her own dogs don’t want to come near her b.o.

In general, Sevika is an old woman who couldn’t give less of a shit. She wants to be left alone with her life and her people and chill. Which is why, I feel like she isn’t that opinionated on much unless it’s boundaries or causes she cares about. She just doesn’t have the energy to be bothered with trivial things like which movie to choose for the night, or which restaurant to go to. She is tired and all she wants to do is eat good food with her partner and her pets in a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t like neighbors and she doesn’t like people in her business. She doesn’t need a perfect life, just one that’s hers.

for whatever reason the letters are being weird, it is killing me. Please ignore it.

[limolib]

02/Up & Down.

7th floor x female reader (the 8 show) Masterlist WC:7.0K, oops. specific chapter warnings:idk :-).

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅::]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

8th floor could not contain her smile, to her this was entertaining. The sight of her grin made you want to gag, reminds you of those pretentious chicks you’d avoid at university. The ones that would gasp when you tell them that no, you didn't have a holiday house in Italy unfortunately. You preferred to think of yourself as a girls’ girl, but sometimes social classes and stuck up ‘daddy’s money’ girls would make you lose your composure. It's not difficult to see she comes from money, if you were 8th floor you still would not spend much your first night. She, however, had decided to turn the space into her personal hotel and still have more than you’ll likely ever make here. It made your blood boil. You barely knew her but you'd already decided you really dislike her, this made you feel guilty. She didn’t do anything wrong per se but, her personality, her privilege. You needed some air. Out on the stairs, you dropped your head down in defeat.

I’m still making good money, basically work-free here. 2 nights ago I was ready to end it all, now there's actually a ray of hope. The grass is always greener on the other side. It’s ok. I’m ok. Deep breaths…

The time board, which you were sure read 30-ish hours a little bit ago now read a little under 50. If you had doubts before, you were certainly sure now. Was it fun to watch the sheer shock on our faces? Was it fun to watch 1st floor rethink his unlucky draw? Is that what you want, pain? You looked up at the ridiculous amount of cameras in every corner. Now more than ever, you wanted to hide in a little cocoon and not be perceived. But alas, the red lights remain blinking. 

For some reasons beyond your comprehension, they had decided to tour everyone's rooms.

7th’s was slightly less annoying than 8th’s, having noticeably less junk. It housed a…desk? Some notebooks and pens too. On the other side of the room was a mattress with a navy bed-set on the floor. This guy is definitely an engineering or finance bro.

6th floor had bought one of those beach fold-out beds, at least that’s what you think it is. That’s actually pretty smart. He also had some blankets and a pillow; the height of luxury, obviously.

You sheepishly let them into your room, 5th floor. It was the bare booty minimum. In fact, it only housed the bucket and bags you’d gotten a few hours ago. 

“How did you…sleep last night?” 2 teased. 

This, to you, meant that even the lowest floors had spent at least some of their money.

“I’m used to it,” you shot her a playful glance. 

4th and 3rd floors’ rooms just got progressively smaller in size, they each got themselves some form of bed and cover to spend the night. You had also noticed that as the floors went down, the view on the screen window changed, to a lower area. Both figuratively and literally. 

Then 2nd floor who had bought dumbbells!

“You didn't know how long you’d be here for and this is your first instinct?” you laughed

“You didn’t even buy a pillow!”

That broke the tension a bit between the group, as snickers and giggles erupted all throughout. 2nd couldn’t help but join in on the fun.

The mood was however immediately killed when 1st floor’s room was opened. You caught yourself practically holding back tears. It was even smaller than your actual apartment and the number on the board was pathetic, at least in comparison to everything else you’d seen. Worst of all- the ceiling was so low, 1st himself could not stand upright. You're pretty claustrophobic, this would make you lose your mind you think. No one was able to meet 1’s eyes, as if all your problems had been stupid in comparison to this. 

“It’s ok” he tried to break the awkward silence. “I wouldn’t have been able to climb all these stairs everyday anyway” 

No one believed him.

. . .  

Food delivery was successful, everyone settled on having lunch in1st’s room.  It was kind of cute actually. Conversation flowed so smoothly, the main topic was obviously the situation at hand here. Theories flew around about how they think time is earned, obviously some ridiculous things were said, but it was comforting to know that no one else had any freaking idea. 4 had then brought up the topic of who we think is behind this whole thing, that got everyone thinking. Obviously they had an unfathomable amount of money. Not only were they able to plan out and execute the physicals of a place like this, they also were able to program the money, the chute, the time, the different rooms. It’s clear that this place is meant to house you for a while. 3rd got up for a smoke and ended up joining 7 right outside the room. You could barely make out what they were discussing, it seemed important. They were both looking out towards the outside area. Your mind started to think about everyone here, and how they ended up in this situation. Had they been as desperate as you are? The higher floors seemed to be coming from money, had they been desperately clawing their way up the ladder too? Or are they here for another reason? Entertainment? You were almost sure you recognised 6th somewhere, on TV you think. And 8 clearly had no trouble holding her hand back from spending. 7 you couldn’t figure out, probably a corporate dude who works in one of those high office buildings you see in the skyline. 1, 2, 3 and 4 were likely more like you, right? What kind of circumstances have pulled 8 unrelated individuals from all walks of life here with one goal. You were so lost in your mind and the countless speculations that you didn’t notice your eyes being focused on 7’s face. He was still deep in conversation with 3 but he’d turned around to match your stare, only breaking eye contact momentarily to look at 3. He then mumbled something, you thought you could make out him saying your number then both looked back at you. 

My fantasy threesome. No! Stop…

You realised that to him it likely looked like you were ogling at his face. You turned away from their eyes and looked down at your plate of food, shoving a bite-too-big into your mouth out of nervousness. Your cheeks hurt from distension with the amount of food inside, you didn’t look up to check, but you hoped they turned away now. Alas, you could still feel their eyes on you. 

The awkward exchange was brought to an end by a yell from outside. 2- you hadn't even noticed that she’d gotten up- was yelling at someone in the square. You got up to join 3, 4, 6 and 7 in their observation of the commotion, but not before helping 1 up from his position.

“Thank you,” he said, to which you gave him a short nod, clearly more occupied by the issue outside. 

 “Hey, what are you doing!,” 2 yelled at 8, you now saw what was going on.

8 had used up most of the time to buy…clothes. You were all left with just under 20 minutes till the show's end. Everyone ran down quickly to meet an annoyingly ‘confused’ 8 at the centre. She feigned cluelessness as she questioned the ruckus. 

“You spent all our time on clothes!” 2 all but freaked out. “Why didn't you do it in your own room!”

8 gave an innocent look and then said; “I wanted to wear them out here. And we could always just increase the time..?”

“And how would we do that?” 7 questioned calmly (with his addictive ass voice).

8th floor looked between everyone’s distressed faces and laughed, “Really? None of you know how to get more time?”

“Stop messing around and just spit it out!” 2 inched closer to 8.

“I’ll tell you…” she trailed off for a moment. “If you apologise to me.”

“Enough games! I’m not apo-” 2 began but was cut off by 6 grabbing her arm.

 “Use your words, talk it out.” he said firmly. 

4th pushed between them and began to apologise on behalf of 2nd. Surprisingly this worked.

“It’s the stairs!” 8th motioned to the area behind her. “Going up and down increases the time.”

That…doesn’t even make the least bit of sense. Why would it be the stairs? Wouldn’t it be counter-intuitive to place so many cameras for a show about stairs. Surely someone saw the flaw in this theory…7! 

In the spur of the action that everyone seemed to jump into, you whipped your head over to seven who was already looking at you, a look of understanding was exchanged, but the others had already started running to the steps and you two were due to join them soon. It seemed that everyone else was convinced. Or in the least bit willing to try. So, with a deep breath in, you split from 7 jogging to the stairway on the right, him on the left. Up & down. That's how you guys spent the next 15 minutes. Testing out the theory of this hellish exercise being your source of time. After a quarter hour of hardwork and heavy sweat, you all stood back, a little defeated as the clock counted down from 10 seconds. But when it reached 1, it flashed and went up again to 30 hours! A collective sigh/laugh of relief washed over you all. You’re getting another chance at this money game. A whole other day just from climbing the stairs. 8th floor giggled loudly,

“See! I told youuuu. I noticed the time go up when we were seeing the rooms and I figured it out, haha! I’m pretty smart!”

Except you weren’t convinced. Yes, ok, maybe the facts point to the obvious, but it still didn’t make any sense. Whatever.  

. . .  

Night fell quicker than you’d anticipated, likely because being in this space was very disorienting. You have no way of telling the actual time other than the huge clock they provide. hmm. It was the young hour of 8pm when everyone retreated to their personal spaces to sleep. 8pm for you however, signaled the end of your shift and start of you free time, so sleep was not greeting you any time soon. Your room was pretty boring, even after all the ‘decorating’ you’ve done. A fold-out bed, like 6’s, a pillow and a blanket. Plus the ‘toilet’ that you’d blocked off with a few cardboard boxes for your own peace of mind. Despite not being much, it had cost you a fortune. Tossing and turning in the prison like bed did nothing to quiet your mind nor entertain it. It killed time though. Still, the ceiling here was much more boring than the one back home and- back home! Who the hell was going to be covering your rent? It was due in a few days. Oh no…You would really rather not come home to an eviction notice. Anxiety began to bubble in your chest. Your feet quickly took you to the phone, but since you were not requesting something in-game, you were not even given a price. You looked at the nearest camera and pleaded to whomever was on the other side but still you could not rest. It was around this hour you’d take a nightly stroll anyway. 

The outside was a bit cooler than the room, making you hug yourself for warmth. Forearms resting on the stairs edge, there was a faint smell of cigarettes in the air, gag. The room, vast as it was, was very unassuming from up here. You thought maybe exploring the downstairs would be fun. 

Fake ice cream in the parlor, fake dogs at the stand, fake clothes in the shop, an ominous figure moving out of the corner of your eye, fake pizza at the-wait. You quickly whipped around only to be met with glasses inches away from your face. A yelp almost escaped had he not covered your mouth and pushed you into the wall. 7. Finally eye to eye after a day’s worth of side eyes. 

This gave you an opportunity to take a good look at him. A bit taller than you, very intense eyes hidden behind a neat pair of round-rim glasses. The events of the day had left their print on him, hair a slight mess and cheeks tinted red from exhaustion. He looked down at you with a stong poker face and you considered biting his hand. Right now, you have no idea what his intentions are here nor what he wants with you. You stood there panting for a beat or two before he took his hand off of your lips, but not before shushing you first. You stood together in a momentary awkward silence as he let out a deep sigh and fixed his glasses back up his face. You raised an eyebrow at him, motioning him to break the ice you stood on. 

“Sorry,” he started. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“Wow. What would you do if did mean to startle me,” you joked, earning no reaction from him. Not a single muscle movement, not even a slight smile or anything. 

Tough crowd.

His face slowly turned away from you and you followed his gaze towards the time screen. 

“You didn’t seem convinced earlier with the time situation, did you have another theory?” he whispered

Of course you did, it really wasn’t that difficult to put together

“Why wouldn’t I be convinced? We saw the time go up, no?” You tried to play dumb, to which he only slightly turned his head to give you a sarcastic look. You almost squirmed under his glare. He then turned himself to be fully facing you and you mirrored his position. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and popped one into his mouth, then proceeded to tilt the pack as an offer to you, which you politely declined. He shot you a questioning look.

“They’re worse for you than I could possibly explain,” you chuckled. 

He nodded as he flicked his lighter and took in a deep inhale which he exhaled from his nose in your general direction. He knew what he was doing. You let out a few fake coughs to try to get the flow of conversation to start again, he only kept eyeing you observantly.

“You’d make a terrible actress,” he said between puffs. You chose to remain silent. Another breath in, then out, “The cameras, the time, the hours added after touring the rooms, do you think I think you're that naive?”

You cursed your inability to mask your facial expressions. He must’ve seen the enlightenment on your face earlier this morning, then again on the stairs. You let out a defeated sigh. 

“I think…they want a show…Content,” you hesitated.

He gave you a satisfied nod, “that’s what I fear.” And after a brief moment of contemplation; “You’re pretty observant 5,” he said, tongue in cheek. 

He threw his burnt out cigarette at his feet then looked down as he stomped on it. His eyes shifted back up to your face then the clock. Almost midnight. You waited patiently for him to add to his previous statement, but you only observed him sniff lightly and fix his glasses again. His eyes met yours one last time, then he turned away and headed for the stairs. You watched as he paused after only a short distance was put between you. His hand went up to rest on his hip and the other to rub his eyes. It seemed like he wanted to say something but was unsure if he should. Before you could speak up he said;

“It’s good to know I can depend on someone here.”, Shooting you a quick look at the end then he sauntered away to his room. 

Heat crept up your cheeks, and you tried to convince yourself it was due to flattery and nothing else. 

. . .  

The smell of something burning overwhelmed your senses. You couldn’t find the source of the smoke that was blocking your vision completely. A faint yet somehow prominent ticking was shaking your entire being with every click. Voices started circling your form, they were asking you something you couldn’t quite make out. Chanting your name in a calm, level voice, unfitting for the situation at hand. 

Over

And over 

And over 

And-

You turned around, now finding yourself in your old apartment’s kitchen. It felt like home. The source of the voice hunched over the sink was a man, wearing an apron over a pristine white uniform, his eyes locked on your figure, a concerned knot of his brows etched onto his forehead. 

“Seven…” you sighed with relief. He gave you a confused, then sincere look, opening his welcoming arms to you. You crossed confidently into his warm embrace, this felt so natural. You’d done this more than a hundred times over. Over on the stove, he was making-burning-some scrambled eggs. There’s the source of the smoke. You said something to him and he gave a hearty laugh, not that you heard either side of this conversation. It was all blurry. You whipped around, still in his cradle to find the source of a new, loud thumping sound. The apartment front door- your train of thought was derailed when the sound became banging.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Hurried bangs met your door, causing the fantasy around you to crumble.

5…5..

“5! Are you ok?” an unfamiliar voice called from outside, startling you awake. You rolled off the bed onto the floor, determined to stop the disturbance before gathering your thoughts. Stumbling up towards the door handle, you ripped it open to reveal a quite agitated 7, both hands on hips, glasses perched atop his head. The events of your dream started coming back to you, making your eyes widen in embarrassment. He took a deep breath in, eyebrows furrowing at your expression.

“Are you ok? We-” he was cut off by the room door slamming shut. He remained in his position for a second, confusion now settling onto his face, and fixed his glasses back were they’re of use to him. 

Inside, you were having a mini spiral, heat still strong on your cheeks and down your neck.

You’ve known the man for all of 24 hours and you’re already fantasising about him?! Ok maybe not fantasising, you obviously can’t control your dreams. Dear lord, he’s barely even spoken 5 full sentences in your general direction! Girl get it together. 

You ran your hands down your face, wishing you could have some ice cold water to splash yourself in right now. Heart still beating a million beats, you spent the better part of 5 minutes trying to make yourself more presentable and less like a girl who’d been dreaming of her teammate. So much for not making things weird. It hit you that, due to the absence of your alarm, you’d probably overslept and the others were likely waiting on you to begin the plight of stair climbing. You felt so awkward, you hoped they didn’t let you sleep that long. With one final stretch, you opened the door again, ready to face the crowd. You took one singular step outside before a voice startled you from the side. 

“5 are you-” he started, only to be cut off by your slight jump and not so slight scream. 

“You need to stop doing that.” You panted. 

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m fine.” That came out a bit harsher than you intended, you just need to put some air between the two of you right now, let the hormones settle or whatever. You kept your head forward as you walked to the stairs, catching a glimpse of the others who were looking up at you. This descent was encased in an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of your footsteps, 7’s a few paces beyond you. 

Finally re-joining the group, you said a quick good morning and stood quietly as 7 explained the plan for today. You had your arms crossed, eyes fixed on the floor as he spoke next to you. You’re sure they heard your scream. Also why was he the one to come check up on you? You found yourself recalling last night’s interaction, reflexively biting the inside of your cheek. You looked up to find 8 smirking knowingly at you, not that there was anything to know. Her eyes bounced between you and 7 a few times as her lips spread out into her million dollar smile, clearly unable to contain excitement, and you doubt it had anything to do with the disgusting exercise you’re about to embark on. You avoided her looks timidly only to find 2 also giving you a side-eye-smirk combo. 

“Okay ready? Off we go.”

For the next 4 days you went laps through the stairs to earn more time and also started to genuinely regret not just killing yourself, although the stairs have been giving you a very similar effect.

Lunch was always a treat, more figuratively than literally. Sitting in 1st floor’s room and sharing vague stories had become your favourite part of the day. 

You’ve grown especially fond of 2. Her quick wit and loud laugh broke through the hardened exterior she’d put up pretty quickly. Her company was always welcome. 4th floor seemed sweet, though her continuous complaining and subtle pessimism drove you crazy sometimes. 

3, a man deserving of an award for how awkward he is, had become closer to 7. Often conversing as they smoked. Watching them was a bit of a guilty pleasure of yours now. Especially the latter of the two. Maybe you should’ve taken him up on that cigarette. 

The more time you spent here, the more you got closer to putting your finger on where you’ve seen 6th before. When you brought this up to him in a private conversation he stiffened up. 

“Just one of those faces,” he clenched his jaw in anger, though you never found out what could have prompted that. 

8 has never joined your lunches, despite 7; someone who was only the floor below her, being always present. Not that you would ever complain about either of those things. 

You and him found a small…routine growing. 

It had started with you lagging behind everyone going to bed, usually ending up alone. You chose to spend this time in the open air rather than the small room, it gave you a sense of tranquility. Away from the banter and bickering, embraced by the oh so familiar silence. He joined you the first night after 20ish minutes of solitude. You hadn’t expected conversation to take place between you two, owing to your brief encounter the night before, but you were pleasantly surprised. 

You two were seated on the swingset side by side, him completely still as you swayed back and forth a little. There was a short lived comfortable quiet between you two, unexpectedly broken by; 

“Do you want to play chess?”

And that’s how you ended up in his room, sat on the floor hunched over a freshly-bought chess set. It's not like you hadn’t played this before, but you were in no way good at it. Hell, you still take a moment to remember which piece moves which way every turn. It seemed however, that this was 7’s domain. Can this man get any more cliche. He explained the rules slowly to you, nothing stuck though, your mind was obviously elsewhere. The first match-set ended in a 3-0, his win obviously, but you held your ground pretty well, rounds lasting upwards of 40 minutes.

“Not bad,” he said after one particular move caught him off guard, prompting a fluster spell to take over you, followed by a quick loss. Maybe he planned it. 

On the second night, he offered to teach you some techniques that you could use. You thought this counterintuitive because he’d know how to get you anyway. But you really couldn’t turn down getting to listen to him talk for 20 continuous minutes. Your bottom lip hurt from how often you bit it to suppress a giggle. You still lost, obviously. 2-0

The following day you used some of your money to buy a chess guide. It was less out of a crush and more so your burning competitiveness. He opened his door that night to find you; out of the uniform jacket with sleeves rolled up to your elbows and a determined look on your face. You took a little longer to meet up with him that night, spending an extra hour alone memorising new moves. You were going to wipe that cocky smirk off of his face no matter what. You’d managed to counter some of his moves and kept the games going for longer. 1 whole hour, your new personal best. It was during the final few moves from each of you that you’d taken him by surprise. 

“Check-mate,” you said with a premature victory smile. 

His eyes widened, hand rushing up to fix the glasses back into their preferred spot. He made an exaggerated movement of rubbing his eyes under the frame, only to look at the board again. He brought his face closer to the board and turned his eyes up to look at you as he grabbed a piece to nullify your previous move. 

“You lost,” he whispered. 

“Heyyy you didn’t even say checkmate!” You whined 

“We don’t have to,”

“You’re playing dirty!” 

You erupted into a fit of giggles, mirrored by him with a stifled laugh. You found yourself leaning back on your elbows as he also adjusted his position to be closer to you. You shut your eyes and tilted your head back, really breathing in this moment. He took this chance to properly scan you over, stopping curiously at a large scar on your left forearm. 

“What’s this?” he queried.

“What?” your eyes snapped down to where he was looking. “This…is  a scar?”

He rolled his eyes. “How did you get it,” he subconsciously ran his index down the discoloured tissue, sending shivers down your back. 

“Oh uhm,” you stuttered nervously. “I- hey wait what happened to keeping our lives to ourselves here?”

“For one, I wasn’t the one to suggest that” he kept inspecting your arm with his finger, almost like a child fascinated by a toy. “And I beat you, three nights in a row so,”

“What? Cmon!” you scoffed. “We never agreed on this! Why don’t you tell me something about you first? Like whether or not you’re some chess champion and I’m an idiot for battling a professional.”

“You’re not in a negotiating position right now,” he laughed, that’s a first. “Just…keep it vague.”

“Protesting,” you finally answered. His face changed into an unreadable expression, followed by what you could swear was him being a bit impressed. 

“Didn’t take you as the type,” he hesitated. 

“Wow, I’m a little offended.”

“No I just- you look a lot more like a pacifist.”

“No I hate sitting around doing nothing in the face of corruption, gotta fight for what you love you know.”

Sensing the sudden heaviness that fell onto your conversation you got up to leave. He remained in his position on the ground, cogs clearly turning inside. You reached for the door handle.

“Don’t hurt your brain thinking too hard, pretty.” you didn’t mean for that last part to be said out loud. He snickered. 

“I’m not.”

“Good,”

“No, I mean I’m not a grandmaster. I just play for fun,”“Gotya, I’ve been losing to just some guy. Great.”

“Goodnight 5,”

“Good night 7,” 

. . .  

It had been a long 4 days. Food was never enough anymore, having each of you fight chopstick to chopstick for the last bite of anything was beginning to weigh down on everyone. A collective sigh erupted around 1st’s room.

“We must be burning like 30000 calories a day, shouldn’t we be getting more food?” 4th questioned.

“Hmm I could really go for a hot dog right now,” 3rd all but moaned, head resting on the wall behind him.

“We need to divide the work in two,” 6th dropped his utensils onto the empty boxes. Now that sounded like a plan. Go team! 

So, everyone decided that, starting the next morning, you’ll split into 2 equal teams to divide the work. The odds and the evens, a genius solution to-

“I want to switch, we don’t get along,” 2 sighed. She had a point though, her and all the other members of her team had been picking petty fights and arguments all week. You’ve all had to practically pull them apart, especially with 6 and 8. It would be best if she switches,yes. You gave it a moment of thought , yeah no. Not jumping into that piranha pit. Who in their right mind would-

“I don’t mind which team I’m on,” 1st floor the man that you are. 

And so it was decided, team 1 (odds) will be running tomorrow while team 2 (evens, obvi) rests. Whichever team does the work that day gets 2 meals per person, whilst the resting team gets only 1, allowing us to both rest and digest on alternating days. A satisfying tandem. 

. . .  

“What do you think of the new system?” Chess set long abandoned in favour of a cigarette to ease his mind. Always the worrier, he was. 

“I think it will work. Or I hope it does anyway,”

“Still think it isn’t the stairs?”

You’d actually completely forgotten that. “...I don’t know.”

. . .  

The system worked well, for 5 days you switched back and forth between leisure and hardwork. 

You would often observe 1st floor on your days off. Witnessing him falling very far behind due to his leg. You wanted to ask him about it but never found the right time. It led to him meeting his lap quota way later than anyone else, but you knew if you called out the unfairness you’d only be met with criticism. Plus tension was already high in that group. On the upside, you got to watch 7 find ways to entertain himself on your down-time (and all hot and sweaty on odd days). The most entertaining thing to do though, was utilising this time with 2nd floor. She tried to teach you some of her calisthenics, but those moves were really easier watched than done. Even 3rd joined you on multiple occasions giving you the purest form of entertainment. And your most favourite; men falling flat on their ass.

The bubble was abruptly burst by a scream echoing from the stairwell, and you all rushed to the victim’s aid. You arrived to see 6th floor tightly clutching 1st’s hand. You didn’t catch what he told him, too focused on determining if there was an injury to tend to or not. Old habits die hard. 2nd pushed past 6th, making a point of bumping into him on her way up. 1st protested, and you gathered what happened here. She was covering for him.

“I get stiff when I don’t workout.”

When your day rolled around the following morning, she was clearly exhausted from the added load and collapsed halfway through the top. 

“You ok?” you crouched next to her.

“Yeah yeah fine, just need a minute.”

. . .  

“I don’t need it,” 2nd protested.

“Yeah you do actually,” you refuted. “Plus I’m full.” Liar.

She wanted to continue arguing but her stomach clearly had the upper hand. 7 gave you a small smile from the other side of the stuffy room. You’d become better at figuring him out, every twitch and blink of his like its own secret code. You held his eyes for a few more seconds, but with the state of him at the moment- cheeks red, eyes tired and the day’s hard work evident on his face- you thought it best to look away. 

This incident happened again, a day later with 3rd floor as well. Noble as it was, it came with the looming threat of 6th floor’s bubbling impatience. 4th floor, whom you’d previously thought to be on the kinder side, was upset at 1st floor eating his regular meal schedule. It's not like he wasn’t working at all, just less than usual. You couldn't understand what the big deal was, it really wasn’t like he was holding everyone back. 

. . .  

A well deserved mid-work break in your personal quarters was now a luxury you didn’t previously predict. With unease weighing heavy on everyone, group meals were switched out for solitude, for the best anyway. 2nd floor would sometimes join you to sit in silence together. Well, usually sit in silence.

“You almost got it,” her gruff voice commented, still eating her food.

“Really? It feels like the wall is doing all the work right now,” you flopped back down, an ‘oof’ sound escaping as your back hit the floor.

She dusted her hands, getting up to show you.

“It’s all in your mindset,”

“What kind of health pseudoscience is that?” you giggled, watching her perfectly do a handstand in the middle of the room.

She gave you an unimpressed look, “You’re close minded. Your putting too much focus on just your body, but if you're scared of falling, you won’t be able to get up there,”

“Deep,”

“No. I’m talking about handstands, don’t make it profound,” she chuckled as she dropped back down, pausing for a moment before talking again.

“What’s with you and glasses?”

“What?”

“Saw you sneaking up to his room the other night” she gave you a cheeky look.

“I was not *sneaking*, it was late and I didn’t want to wake anyone up. We just play chess together, that’s all. And we’re just friends,”

“Why at night?”

“Neither of us can sleep that early. Plus we’re sort of busy during the day?” you made a pendulous up and down movement with your finger.

“And our days off?”“What were you doing up that late anyway?”

“Irrelevant, answer the question.”

“I-” You paused to think. Why *did* you two only meet in such late hours. This had completely gone past you somehow. Outside, you would never entertain a guy that only seeks you out after sundown, why had you let it happen here? Yeah sure, it's nicer at night with no one else around but…but what? You two weren’t a thing, this was just a silly crush! He doesn’t owe you anything. And you don’t have to prove anything now.

“It’s just how it is 2nd, don’t read too much into it.”

Her face had morphed into that of subtle anger.

“You and I are friends, you don’t see me hiding that.” she huffed, her tone changing to that of quiet scolding. “You can’t trust him! Especially not those floors. I don’t know what he wants with you, but I’d keep my guard up.”

  . . .   

The chute groaned open unexpectedly, filling the room with a pungent smell. Inside, dozens of black bags were stacked up next to bottles of…pee? You couldn’t even try to theorise as to what might be going on here. Standing up to find an answer, you walked over to the door, abandoning your food, appetite long gone. You opened the door to find the welcoming blond haired woman leaning against the frame. Before you could ask, she said;

“1st feels guilty about not being able to keep to keep up, so he offered to keep everyone's waste in his room,”

“And the others agreed to pile up their crap in the smallest room?” 

She shrugged and walked away. 

You thought of the kind man 4 floors below you, and how his conscience put him in this position. It didn’t make sense though. He’s already at the most disadvantage here, both by  earning the least and having a tiny tiny living space. You thought of how the bags would hinder movement even further, and how, since everyone would eat in his room, he’d already had to stockpile the empty boxes. And oh god the stench. You only had the chute open for a minute or two but you’re sure the smell was going to haunt you tonight. The number of bags in the metal box -obviously belonging to the top three floors- had you guessing if some of them had an explosive week and a half. Probably 6th. Your eyes looked over to your own stock of goods. No, your room was big enough. You hit the button to close the chute and send it down without contributing to this mess of a situation. It was time to get back to running so you did some of the stretches that 2nd taught you to ease the aching muscles.

  . . .   

“You look like you need an exorcism”

“Sorry we don’t all have loose ligaments”

“What does that even mean”

  . . .   

You opened the already unlocked door to regroup with your team, only to find a disgruntled 2 leaning against the railing.

“Did you do it?” she questioned with a poker face.

“No,” “3rd and 4th did. 6th and 8th too,”

“7th?” 

“No idea,” she looked off to the side. 

Before you could say anything else, 3rd floor zoomed up past you, tripping over nothing for no reason.  Followed by 7th, who shot a ‘get to work look’ at both of you. This pissed her off.

“Why does he act like he’s the only person here with a brain?” It was more a statement than a question. You dropped your head down in a defeated sigh. He really does act like that. 

“We should-”

“After you.”

  . . .   

1st floor’s idea brought life back to the show, with 6th floor’s glares long gone, everyone felt at ease. Group lunches became a daily thing again and you think that you saw 6 smiling at 1 the other day, though you might’ve just been hungry. Your visits to 7th’s room had become less

frequent, owing mostly to the talk you had with 2nd, though he did not seem to overthink the change. 1st floor would still help, at his own pace, which baffled you. Was he now not doing twice the work? No-one else seemed to mind, but you thought of a way to give back to your unlucky teammate. You had noticed earlier that he had next to no belongings in his room, nothing to sleep with specifically.  Before the next waste delivery came around, you bought a warm blanket and a soft pillow -nicer than the ones you got yourself, since you’re likely spending a while here anyway- and wrapped them in an unassuming black bag with ‘open me’ written on with some marker. You made a point of blending it in with the other bags just because you really don’t know 4th floor’s situation and you feared someone else would take it. It wasn’t much, but it was the least you could do. The following morning, you awoke to see a well rested, smiley 1st floor, it filled you with warmth. 

“Oh 1st floor, how did you get that” 3rd floor noticed the new living situation during lunch. 

“Someone sent it to me as a gift I think,” he smiled from ear to ear. “They did not mention who they were…thank you.” he bowed his head to everyone in the room.

Looks were exchanged all around but you’d managed to keep a poker face and act as surprised as the others, you didn’t do this for praise afterall. More for the community. 

The issue at hand now was the time, which had not been meeting the quota you predicted it would. It all came to a head on an even day. 

They had been running all day, with not a minute gained on the time. 

“Screw this, I’m going back to my room.” 8th pushed past 4th. 

“What?” she panted back to her.

“It’s not working, I’m not doing this anymore.”

“You can’t just-” but she’d already turned away. 

You looked back at the clock desperately, still nothing. Your team ended up joining them, in a miserable attempt to prolong your stay. Up and down till nightfall. 8 hours remained ticking down by the end of the day. But then, as all was seemingly hours away from being lost. The time shot up 20 minutes, then another. A laugh of relief escaped everyone's mouth.

“Stupid thing was lagging” 6th wheezed. With that, you called it in for the night, hopeful that tomorrow, things will go back to how they were. 

Oh how you couldn’t be more wrong. 

  . . .   

Another morning waking up to panic and banging on your door. You rushed up and out of the room to cast your eyes to the time. 20 minutes. What happened! This can’t end like this. Everyone began doing their part frantically. Up & down. You finished just the one cycle before a different kind of panic erupted from the stairs a few floors below you. Rushing down to a small gathering of your teammates, hunched over someone flat on the ground, you pushed yourself in between to assess the situation. 4th floor, seizure. 

“She’s seizing!” you panted as you put her into the recovery position. 

“Do you have medical training?” Really 7th? Is this really the time to ask this? What does it look like?

“EMT.” 

“What does she need?” 

“Phenytoin! She needs Phenytoin!” At that, 2nd and 3rd rushed down to reach the square for the medicine. In hindsight, it would've probably been quicker if they used one of the rooms, too late now. 

7th helped you carry her all the way down, but by the time you met with everyone, a fist fight had erupted. 6th had tackled 2nd to the ground. 7th left your side to try to control the situation only to be roped into the fight. 3rd’s nose was now bleeding.

“She could get permanent brain damage!” Your reasoning fell onto deaf ears

It all happened so fast- the fight, the call and…giggles. You looked behind you to find 8th floor, hunched over herself and clutching her stomach in laughter. 

“Can’t you see what I see?” she wiped actual tears from her eyes. 

True to her words, a marvelous site casted its glow upon all onlookers.

Time was added.  

03/ Chess not checkers.

[itsohh]

Ghost and Price Soulmate AU

A/N: G/N reader, posted as seperate fics on ao3 with each specific tag relating.

Warnings: Angst, self-mutaliation, reference domestic abuse

AO3 Masterlist

Ghost

He never believed in soul mates. Not in the matter that most people thought. Sure, they were real, sure there was someone out there destined to be ones other's match. Ghost just didn't believe it meant anything. Not really.

He of course had seen what it lead to.

His mother, destined to be with his father. They were soul mates and yet he treated her just as bad. His father loved his mother, sure, but he loved himself so much more.

So when that fated day came, that one when a bullet hit Ghost directly on his thigh, he couldn't help but be a little relieved.  The nurses had been so sympathetic, the doctors too. They hadn't been able to save the soul mark. Now replaced with a gunshot scar. A blessing in disguise. It was a weight off his shoulders.

Escaped. He had escaped destiny.

-

Legs rather comfortable on Soaps lap, you hand your arm over your eyes while you quietly rest. "How'd you get this one?" He poked the scar just under your knee. If anyone else had asked, you would have given them a piece of your mind. Asking about a scar wasn't a line that everyone could cross.

"Some dude tried to go for my kneecap and missed."

"Ouch."

"Didn't even hit me hard enough to shatter my kneecaps regardless of his shit aim."

The door clicked open and you heard the quietest of footsteps enter the room. "Sergeants." Ghost.

"Hey LT, what's the sit'?"

"Price's put us all on mandatory vacation leave." Your arm lift from your face at his voice as you stared at him.

"For real?" You asked, disbelief written across your face.

"Two weeks." You heard a huff from his voice as he sat down opposite to you. There was almost a relief in his eyes. He had been working hard. Too hard.

"Well gives the pair of you a perfect amount of time for a honeymoon huh-" Soap's tease was cut off by your kick but only made him laugh harder. Your relationship with Simon wasn't a secret, not to Soap anyway.

"Alright, alright I was joking. Shite."

"Perhaps you could use that two weeks to learn how to be funny." Your eyes narrowed at him.

"You wound me." He jabbed a finger next to a scar. "Speaking of wounds, How'd you get this one?" You looked over to the exposed skin just under your shirt.

You froze for a moment and your eyes didn't go to Soaps, but to Ghosts. The pair of you had never brought up the matter at hand. Soul marks, it never seemed important. So many people so dedicated to finding that person that the world designed for them, it just didn't seem to matter for you. You loved Ghost, you didn't want to know it was because of an outside force. You loved him and nothing would change that.

"That's my soul mark."

"Damn, that's rough. Not a pretty one." Soap looked down at the nasty scar.

"No, I mean it was. Alright, so when I was a kid I was totally in love with this girl at school called Lilith."

"Oh yeah?" He raised a brow while Ghost continued to watch.

"But she had a different soul mark than mine and wouldn't even look at someone who wasn't her soul mark. She was only gonna date her soulmate."

"What happened?"

"I figured I couldn't have the same one as her but maybe she would date me if I didn't have one. Like how would she ever know if I lost it."

"So you burnt it off?" Soap looked at you with slight horror.

"Cut actually. It uh, really fucking hurt but man she was really pretty." Soap straightened his back slightly and you swallowed.

"I presume it didn't work out."

"We started dating happily and were together up until right before I joined the military. Until her actual soulmate showed up."

"Ohhhh, rough." He gave you a look of sympathy.

"At the time? Was not happy. But I think everything worked out okay." Your eyes locked onto Ghosts for a moment.

"Cute. What about this one?" Soap asked and you looked at the scar on your hand.

"Think that was when I burnt myself making an omelette." Soap barked out a laugh and you could have sworn you saw Ghost's eyes squint from a smile.

"For fucks sake, Soap!" A grumble turned into a yell and the pair of you froze at Price's voice. In all honesty, Price didn't shout like that very often, especially at one of you. Normally it was more akin to a tired sigh.

"Whaddya do this time?" You removed your legs from his lap.

"Better go find out." He jumped up and cracked his neck. "If you don't hear from me in three hours then I want stripers at my funeral." He gave you a wink and headed out the door. The fact he locked the door after him wasn't something you missed.

Silence settled between the pair of you. Eventually, Ghost spoke up. "Can I see it?" Your eyes lift up and met his. You knew exactly what he meant.

"Sure. It's just a scar now, nothing special." Ghost stood up and towered his way over to you. He replaced Soap and your feet settled on his lap. Carefully, Simon removed the mask from his face and placed it on the coffee table next to you. You watched as he bit the top of his glove and slid it off his hand for it to join his mask.

His hand gently grazed the old scar. "Do you regret it?"

"No. Not really, to be honest after things didn't work out with Lilith I didn't think I would date again."

"Why did you?" His brown eyes settled on yours while he continued to stroke the scar.

"Well, we spent what like three months skirting around each other?"

"Four."

"Mmm, I mean you're an attractive man Simon. Enough to make someone change their mind."

"You couldn't see my face."

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for tats." You grinned and he raised a brown. His curled lips betrayed him and you let out a small laugh. "Honestly blame Soap, dunno if he did the same to you but god fucking dammit was he a persistent wingman. I enjoy your company and he didn't let me forget that."

"Hmm, seems he played matchmaker for the pair of us."

"Are you really surprised? It's Soap, he loves to meddle."

"Probably why Price is ripping him a new one," Simon muttered and his eyes sent back to the scar.

"Does it bother you?" Your voice was small, quiet and concern drew across your face. "That I don't have a mark anymore. That we will never know if we were made for each other." Simon paused and then suddenly got up from the chair only adding to your uncertainty. He placed his leg on the coffee table and started to pull up his trouser leg.

Confused you watched him until he pointed to a particular scar. "See that there?"

"You got shot?" You raised a brow.

"That there's where my mark god before it was shot. Lucky bullet. Can't be upset with you an't having one if I don't have one now."

Simon let the trouser leg fall and sat back down on the couch. This time he grabbed your legs and pulled you up onto his lap. It was a swift movement that had you automatically let out a small laugh. He had that adoring look on his face. The corners of his lips all crinkled up. Now with you in arm's reach, his bare hand caressed your face. "Couldn't give a flying fuck about that shite. I'm with you because I want to be, not because some destiny bullshit tells me to. But because I choose to love you."

Price

It had been a completely innocent moment that he saw it. That mark on your torso. A cropped singlet showed it off while you played netball with your squad. A particular game that Gaz had joined. Price wasn't even supposed to be there, he was only getting Gaz. Yet he froze when he saw that mark. The one that was identical to the on his wrist. Just under his watch.

Gaz forgotten about, Price had a call he had to make.

"Look, Kate, doesn't need to be somewhere safe or dangerous just anywhere but where I am."

"John I can't just have people reassigned for no good reason. Are you trying to sabotage their career? Is this a personal thing?"

"No, fuck, I'm not trying to fuck with their career. I'll be compromised around them, it's not a problem now but it might be in the future."

"Are you in a relationship with this person? Or were you?" Kate asked and John let out a sound of slight frustration through the phone.

"They're my soul mate Kate. They don't know it but I saw it." The line went silent. John eventually heard a sigh on the other end of the line.

"I'll do what I can."

-

After that phone call, John hadn't heard from you again. Despite the desire for companionship feeling deep down inside of him, he knew he did the right thing. It wasn't your fault and it wasn't his. Yet he had decided to override date, to override destiny.

Laswell never told him where she sent you. On any other day, he would have said that was for the better.

Any other day.

Gaz sprinted alongside him, guns firing about near them. "Fuck!" He could hear Gaz as the building nearby crumbled down into dust, a building they had just come from.

The pair of them were overrun and for a moment he looked at Gaz and regretted bringing him to his death. There were just too many from too many directions. With no proper cover, the pair of them were fish in a barrel. Bullets came from in front of them but not at them. By some miracle, a door opened while gunfire continued to cover them.

The door promptly shut behind them as both Gaz and Price fell to the ground in their hurried movement.

"Well, I'll be damned, long time no see Gaz." You held a hand out for him and Price watched as you pulled Gaz off the ground.

"Hey, Lieutenant! Didn't expect you to be here." Lieutenant? Price never knew you were promoted. Then again it's not like he wanted to hear about you, it was easier pretending you didn't exist.

"Yeah well, not the worst place to be at. I presume you guys are here due to the attack three days ago?"

"Affirmative on that." Price finally spoke up, he could pretend at least now that you weren't his soul mate.

"We have been here since then, then you two were running through dead man's land."

"Are you guys stuck here?" Gaz asked while you lead them over to a table with a map on top.

"Of course not. We have an underground pathway in our access. But they don't know that. They think that we are stuck here, they tried to push a could of times but Katey up in the best keeps taking them out."

"Are they hoping to starve you out then?" Gaz asked and you nodded.

"Yup in the meantime we have been setting up."

"Setting up what?" Price asked and you gave him a big grind.

"Fireworks show of course. The tunnels below here are far more extensive than everyone originally thought. It goes directly under their set up so we are going to hit the supports."

"Have it crumble from beneath them." Gaz breathed and you nodded.

"Only problem is that there's a high chance that our tunnels will collapse too, we are right on a cliff face so it's gonna be close." Your Sergent popped up next to you.

"This is Sergeant Lawyerson. Demolitions and structural expert."

"The idea is we will evacuate everyone first. " You explained.

"Speaking of, we should get to that. I onto have one set of charges left."

"Right we have to be quick then, when they realise that we don't have people at their posts they might push."

"I'll go get them in place now. Captain, Sergent do you mind looking after my men? There's a side path on the mountain we need to take, it goes from tunnel to straight cliff face. It's pretty risky but KitKat knows the way."

They both gave you a nod and started to work with the squad to leave. Yet Price's eyes lingered on you for a moment. You were a storm, not one to be trifled with. You spoke with certainty and confidence. The perfect leader for your squad. He could see the trust in their eyes.

"Lieutenant!"

"What is it, Katey?"

"Fuck, they got a tank out here!" Price watched as you froze for a moment then sprinted to the exposed gap then swore.

"Right, everyone evacuates now. KitKat eyes front."

"What about Attorney?"

"I'll get Lawyerson, the rest of you go." Price was swept up with the small crowd and followed KitKat down a tunnel. He only had a glimpse of you before you ran down a different path away from him.

"Captain, this way." KitKat had a kind smile on her face but he couldn't help but feel the pit in his stomach form. Was this a result of the bond? Or was this a gut feeling? He couldn't tell.

With Gaz in front of him, he was led through the path until he reached outside. It was an old climbing path, the bridges were old and wooden while the actual path was thin. It didn't allow for fast movement.

A few minutes later his head whipped around to see you following your Sargent. "Blow it." You commanded as the pair of you expertly hurried down the path. Far faster than everyone else had. He couldn't help but wonder how many times the pair of you had travelled it in the last few days.

"We're too close to the blast!" Price's eyes went to the entryway as more voices started to echo down.

"We can't let them reach here else everyone's dead. There's no cover here."

"We can handle some!" She protested.

"Some, not a goddamn army." You were right. She glanced at you over her shoulder then hit the detonator.

A rumble echoed it as the pair of you continued to sprint. Echos of your enemies' screams carried through the tunnel and out into the open. True to Lawyersons suspicions, the tunnels on your side had started to collapse too.

Unfortunately, not all your foes were caught. A brief area by the exit was reinforced rather well and they survived. Meanwhile, the path around you started to crumble. Gaz lit up his gun in an attempt to cover the pair of you.

Price snapped to action just in time for the wooden bridge to collapse under both you and Lawyerson. She managed to barely leap over to safety but your jump, slightly further back didn't make it.

But he caught you.

Price's hand found yours as he dove prone to the side. With one hand off the side, you dangled to his hand. "I got you." His eyes bore into yours as the pair of you tried to pull you up. Yet the wood that you used cracked under your weight and all progress was lost. Lawyerson recovered and went to help pull you up but a bullet in her leg had her cry out.

A curse left John's mouth as a gunshot hit his shoulder. They were getting lit up trying to save you. Your eyes turned to see the small group that had survived. They were aiming for the three of you.

"Let go, you need to leave." Your voice came and for the first time in a very long time. He froze.

"I'm not leaving you."

"You will die if you stay and I'll die regardless. Don't water your life like this. " He felt your hand go limp against him and he used all his strength to continue holding on.

"I can't."

"They always said you were such a level-headed man. Let go. Don't put the weight of your death on me. Lawyerson will need help with that leg of hers. Save her."

His eyes glanced at the small mark on his exposed wrist, your eyes followed him and you gave him a weak smile. John couldn't say it out loud, that he was your soul mate. A man you only knew from word of mouth.

"I already knew. Gaz showed me a picture of the pair of you, your wrist was showing." His lips parted.

"You didn't say anything."

"Love wasn't an option for me. Soulmates? That's a fantasy for civilians to have. Not us. But for what it's worth, if there was anyone worth being cosmically tied to, your a pretty damn amazing man to be it."

He shouted your name and with your free hand, you pried yourself from his grip. "Go!" So John watched as you fell, a love finished before it had even started.

[naychuchu]

🐈‍⬛

tw: this is my first time actually posting anything i’ve written. i made these pretty late at night so i’m sorry if they’re bad i just wanted to write something. probably some spelling mistakes and stuff i didn’t feel like checking it throughly.

a/n: please be nice

personal

* i’ve mentioned this before but baji absolutely LOVES the yakuza game

* favorite one is yakuza 0 (definitely not because this is the only one i’ve watched so far🌚)

* john cena fanboy for absolutely no reason. has his theme as his ringtone

* number 1 baby metal fan. owns their merch and goes to every concert

* his favorite season is summer for obvious reasons but his favorite holiday is definitely christmas because he and mikey ride around with shin

* HATES horror movies. like nothing can convince this man to watch them. even the kiddie ones like goosebumps or scary stories to tell in the dark will have him act like the devil just touched his soul

* definitely the kind of guy to walk around with one lens in his glasses after a fight

* purposely named his bike cockroach knowing pah is afraid of them

* he used to hate his fangs when he was little because kids used to tease him and say he was a dog

* that was until he started saying he’d bite and give them rabies if they kept messing with him

* cannot grow facial hair to save his life

* judges people on how they interact with animals, specifically cats

* despite popular belief, i don’t think he would get any tattoos. he seems like a piercing guy and definitely cannot sit that long for a tattoo

* gave himself the alias edward because he used to watch twilight with his mom

* he even had a phase when he acted like a vampire but will vehemently deny and threaten anyone who dares to bring it up

* is lactose intolerant and just like many of us will eat dairy and instantly regret it as soon as it hits his stomach

* sometimes he feels insecure about the fact he was held back, all of his friends moving up while he’s left behind

* even though he has a reputation for committing arson and slightly unprovoked violence, keisuke is truly a model citizen☝🏽

* volunteers at shelters, helps the elderly, feeds the homeless, solves climate change. he truly is a saint and can do no wrong!

home life

* i like the idea that his mom was a teen mom and that his father was never really around and just stopped coming one day

* due to her job, his mom sometimes works really late or super early so over the years he’s learned to cook (the only good thing he can cook is yakisoba)

* on the nights he knows his mom will be back late he cooks her food and despite it not being the best she still loves it

* even though she works a lot the two of them are still very close and their favorite thing to do is read manga and watch mystery dramas whenever she’s off

* despite not knowing his dad(he only visited when he was a baby) he never felt insecure about it

* he’s a total mamas boy, and will fight anyone who says something about her

* when ryoko was younger, she wanted to have a lot of kids but after having keisuke she changed her mind. she felt it would be selfish to have so many kids when she works so much and after realizing how much of a handful he can be.

* despite that and having him at such a young age, keisuke was the best thing to ever happen to her and wouldn’t trade him or his wildness for the world.

relationship

* back on the yakuza point, whenever you’re sad he’ll grab a hair brush, turn up the radio and start singing 24-hour cinderella to you until his voice is gone

* when you guys get in a fight he’ll act like he’s in a 2000’s r&b mv and start singing bakamitai. chifuyu gets the hose to spray water above him, kazutora plays the music, and ryusei records the whole thing so baji can send it to you

* a biter, like what’s the point of him having those sharp ass teeth if he don’t try to take a chunk out of you

* whatever your favorite animal is, he’s gonna buy every single book about them so he can share little facts about it with you

* if you’re into a specific artist or group, he’ll listen to their whole discography and learn everything in the fandom

* becomes a horanghae enthusiast and will force you to be one as well

* just like he’s loyal to his friends and toman, he’s loyal to you

* like foreva togetha foreva LOCKED IN 🤞🏽

* a girl tries flirting with him and all of a sudden he’s hellen keller

* the type of boyfriend to say you’re too spoiled whoever you ask for something while doing said thing you requested

* will literally lift his ass off the seat while you’re sitting next to him and fart on you then blame it on you

* talm bout some ‘ew the hell did you eat’ like his diet doesn’t consist of yakisoba, monster energy drinks, and beef glizzies

* speaking of farts😸 keisuke will send pics of his shit to you asking if it looks normal

* will make fun of you if you’re lactose intolerant as if he don’t be upside down on the toilet fighting for his life

* is constantly in your personal space. like he’ll be standing behind you while you play like candy crush or best fiends mumbling about moves you can make. sometimes he’ll snatch your phone and play it himself

* what’s yours is his. mid chew on something he wants? he’s opening your mouth and popping it in his, no matter if it’s soggy

* absolutely loves giving and receiving hugs, being in your arms makes him feel safe and gives reassurance that despite all of his flaws you still love him

* stares at you with his mouth open, no matter what you’re doing or how you look his eyes are on you 24/7

* takes the absolute worst pictures of you on facetime and puts each one in his favorites until the end of time

* throws rocks at your window at like 4 in the morning knowing you both have school just so you can ride around with him until the sun comes up

* i feel like he’d totally like mellow down on the things he does. he doesn’t want to worry you while he’s away

* constantly checks up with you so you know he’s okay and not lying on the ground somewhere and dying 🌚

this is so scary bye 😭

[walli3darl1ng]

Hey fav writer!

I got a couple of ideas when I was zoning out in math class today but I'm just going to do it one at a time cuz I don't want to overboard you and have you stressed out I don't want you to get overwhelmed you're my favorite writer right now

Okay here's what I'm thinking! Okay reader recently moved into the neighborhood and has met almost everybody except for Frank...

And when they met Frank saw Stars the reader was half butterfly!

Frank x butterfly gn reader!

Romantic or platonic I don't really care whatever one you prefer!

Also I don't mind being called Moon!

From: a new friend🌜

To: You💖

Pain is illusion by gold byeeeeee!!!!

DONT YOU EVER-

don’t even stop you’re the reason I’m even still writing on this blog, Moon!💖💖😖

But this is adorable! You know that scene from that movie about fairies and the female spread her breathtaking wings?! I can’t think of the movie oh ma gawd-

But anyways this one’s gonna be short and sweet one.

Moving i to a new neighborhood can be hard and stressful. There’s so much you need to do and keep track of, it can be overwhelming!

Which is why you felt relief when you finished unpacking and meet all the neighbors.

First was Wally, he came up to you! You think he’s a cute little puppet, loves listening to you. You remind him of an Angel.

Next, was Julie and Sally. Lovely girls! Wouldn’t stop gushing over your wings and eyes, they’re glowing like glass!

Then it was Barnaby, so funny that one! Made you laugh every moment. You guys played around too with Wally after tea.

Poppy and Howdy were next, at the store you were getting some ingredients for dessert tonight and they were impressed with your wings.

Eddie was a big help! Moving in the boxes and helping you set up your mailbox. As well as tell you about this clearing with a bunch of butterflies!

So there is where you are relaxing and sitting on a rock not noticing another butterfly loving puppet stoping himself from stepping in the clearing when he sees you in his usual butterfly seeing spot.

“Oh hey, Frank!”

Frank panicked and turns to see Julie. He quickly covers her mouth and pulls her down with him as you swiftly turn around at the noise but turn back when you didn’t see anything.

Julie protested as Frank lets her go. “That’s rude!” She whispers now sitting on her knees.

“Rude! You’re the one who spawned outta no where!” He whispers back, taking glances at you. “Who are they?”

Julie pushes him over, only for him to push her back to keep his eyes on you. “That’s Y/n.”

Just as she said it you stand up and stretched, your wings spreading and letting it take in the sun. They were glowing! The holographic glow bringing stars to Frank’s eyes.

He thinks you’re so pretty and unique! Just look at you, everything about you is perfect! The wings and glow are just a bonus.

“Hey, Y/n!”

You turn and smile. Julie called you. Frank was slightly embarrassed that Julie just called both him and her on spying on you but you don’t seem to mind. “Hey, Julie! Oh hello I don’t think we’ve meet, I’m Y/n!” You flap your wings and glade over to them and hold your hand out to Frank.

Frank smiles and shakes your hand. Then starts letting his mind run. “Hello, I’m Frank! So do you know what kind of butterfly you are? Are the wings transparent or is it a specific color? Will you let me look at them?”

“Woah Frank, let them breathe! Oh, oh! What about a sleepover?!” Julie jumps up and down pulling Franks with her to follow her actions.

You laugh and nods you head, a sleepover sound perfect! This also is a good time to get to know all you neighbors. “That’s a good idea! Should we invite the others?”

“Yes!” Julie takes your and and Frank’s pulling you two back to the neighborhood. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

“Slow down, firecracker!”

You just laugh and let yourself be pulled.

You’re starting to love it here!”

[tayas-words]

Can you write some Sam X reader smut? Or if you don't feel comfy writing smut, then fluff? I live your other one shots🩷

Awwe thank you I’m happy you liked my other one shots.

As of right now I don’t think I’ll be writing smut, I may allude to it or you guys can ask me for like specific questions about head canons that are nsfw but that’s as far as I’m comfortable with writing as of right now, thank you! And enjoy the fluff!

TW: angst then fuff . swearing

Now can I be yours?

BANG!

The mansion echoed as the front doors slammed shut. Only followed by silent sobs and sniffles as her heels ran across the floor to the stairs.

Sam furrowed his brows as he and Matthew stopped their game to see what was happening.

“What the fuck?” Sam spoke after a moment of silence.

“Derek stood her up again.” Damien chimed in. “And when he showed up he smelled like perfume.”

A growl erupted from Sam’s throat. He hated Derek with a passion, he had been Y/N’s boyfriend since their 2nd year of high school and he treated her horribly; always standing her up, ignoring her whole giving other women attention, even cheating on her.

But in Y/N’s mind, she deserved it. She wasn’t pretty enough or smart enough or tall enough, or whatever small reason she could come up with to justify not breaking up with him. Even though the boys had all privately spoken to her one-on-one about going to tell him off, she declined and said it was alright.

This time however, was the last straw. Tonight was their 5th anniversary, and Y/N was deveststed.

“Fuck this!” Sam raged as he got up from the couch.

“Sam what are you-“ Matthew couldn’t even finish his sentence before Sam was already in the lobby and up the stairs.

Just as Sam raised his fists to bang on the door, he halted as he heard muffled sobs coming from inside.

He knocked on the door lightly. “Doofus?” He waited for a response, hearing the sobs and sniffles stop suddenly.

“Come in.” Her hoarse voice called out.

He opened the door and sucked in a breath as he looked at her. The dress Erik had made for her specifically for tonight had been thrown across the room, she sat on her bed in oversized sweater Damien had lent her. Her eyes were darkened with sadness, already swollen and her cheeks were stained red from the tears, her makeup running down her cheeks.

All of that and to Sam she was beautiful.

“Please don’t.” She begged, already knowing what he was going to say.

“You have to break up with him already-”

“He loves me! He does! It’s my fault, I’ve been busy with university work and I haven’t been paying much attention to him!”

“That’s not an excuse! Fuck! if you were mine I wouldn’t care if you were busy! I’d be more than fucking happy to even spend a minute to see you!” He blurted out before he could stop himself.

The room was filled with a silence.

“You know what I meant Y/N. You deserve more than that…more than that bastard could ever offer you…” he muttered something underneath his breath that she couldn’t hear.

“I can’t lose him, he’s the…one I’ve been with for so long.”

“We’re sick of it, this, him, all of it. You go out all happy and then come back either alone and extremely upset or with Derek and you’re drunk. We’ve all seen the way he treats you, he has no respect for you.”

She shook her head. Not saying anything as she buried her chin into a pillow.

He was starting to get really annoyed. Let out a deep sigh he clenched his fist, “y/n! I’m serious! You deserve someone better, this isn’t a good relationship!” He raised his voice.

She flinched at his voice.

He hated how she did that, he hated that she was afraid of him when he raised his voice.

He sat down on the side of the bed in front of her.

Turning to look at her he lifted a hand to her face, making her look at him.

“I lo- I care about you a lot doofus. I hate seeing you hurt so much because of this dick. It isn’t right. I would treat you so much better.” He leaned closer to her, wiping away the rouge tears that fell down her cheeks.

Without another word he leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, which confused the both of them just as equally. He stood up and left the room, knowing he’d do something he’d regret if he stayed.

A few days had past since that moment in Y/N’s room. They had been practically avoiding each other, well he’d been avoiding her, but he had taken notice to the fact that she hadn’t been going out all dressed up and fancy and Derek hadn’t been coming around the past few days. She had been trying to interact with the boys more.

They all sat in the living room, talking and laughing while watching a show, something they hadn’t done in a long time. Sam was happy to see her smile like that, she looked full of joy and comfort.

“Y/N! OPEN THIS DOOR! I KNOW YOU’RE HOME! OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR YOU BITCH I BET YOU’RE IN THERE FUCKING ALL OF THOSE GUYS! I KNEW YOU WERE A WHORE!” The happiness was short lived as Derek’s voice boomed from outside the front door.

Y/N’s eyes widen, she had been ignoring Derek’s messages since he stood her up. Thinking he’d get the hint.

All of the boys immediately stood up, but Sam, who was still in his police uniform, practically flew off of the chair he was sitting on. His super speed gave him an advantage of beating his brothers to the punch they’d all like to take on the douche.

“Get the fuck off our step.” He said, as calmly as he could while he gripped the doorknob so hard he felt it moulding under his grip.

“I want to see my girl-”

“No.”

“No? She’s mine! I demand-”

“NO! You don’t get to demand anything. You lost the right to call her yours- no, you lost the right to even fucking look at her!” He slowly let his demonic voice drip into his words, invoking enough fear to make Derek adjust his posture.

Derek let out a laugh, a laugh that made Y/N’s skin crawl at the sound of it. “I knew it. You’re fucking her aren’t you? I bet you and all of your brothers get in bed with her? She’s such a slut-” he was cut off as Sam pinned him to the column outside the door by his neck.

“You will never speak about her like that again. You do not deserve her. You are a cheating bastard who has no respect for women. There will be a special place in hell for you.”

His grip tightened.

“I don’t want to see you around Y/N ever again. If you even so much as look in her direction, I will have you arrested for stalking.” He snarled.

“Do you understand me? She’s done with you,” He threw him to the ground. “Now get off this property.” His eyes flickered red and his voice radiated anger.

Without another word, Derek scrambled up and tripped over his own feet as he got in his car and sped out of the driveway.

Sam growled as he took some deep breaths in before reentering the house.

“Sam! Are you okay?!” Y/N rushed uo to him, almost as if she thought Derek was going to harm him. She inspected his face for any scratches or bruises.

He let out a sigh of relief as he felt his hand reach his face. “I’m okay Doofus. Are you okay?” He placed his hand over hers.

She nodded and let out a breath. “What happened?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it, he won’t be bothering you anymore. You’re free from him.”

Without a word, she flew forward and wrapped her arms around his neck with a cheerful sob.

“Thank you.” She said as he encircled her waist with his arms.

“Let’s get you to bed, Doofus.” He lifted her up and they said goodnight to the others.

By the time he walked up to her bedroom, she had already began to doze off.

“Time for bed.” He lowered her onto her bed, plying her arms from around his neck.

“Stay with me, please, Sam.” She grabbed onto his sleeve as he went to walk away.

He swallowed. “Y/N you need to sleep.”

She whined, “please.”

He let out a chuckle, undoing the belt on his pants to be more comfortable. “Fine, just till you fall asleep, okay?”

Flopping down on the bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her pulling her close onto his chest he let out a deep breath.

“Goodnight doofus.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head. Only to hear slight snoring.

He let out a laugh as he slowly began dozing off. He pulled her closer.

Sam woke up from Y/N squirming as she slowly woke up from the sunlight peeking through the window.

“Mmnm” Sam mumbled as his eyes blinked open.

“Good morning..” Y/N muttered, burying her face into his chest.

“Morning Doofus.” He smiled as he breathed in her scent.

“Mmm..question..” she asked.

“Hmm?”

“Now can I be yours?”

Sam stuttered before recovering, thinking for a moment and smiling.

“Of course Y/N.”

[highlifeboat]

Basics Ship Ask: 6, 19, 20, 22, 29, your choice of couple(s) cause I honestly like hearing all of your headcanons/AUs ^_^

Okay, just so this post isn’t 3 years long, I think I’m just gonna talk about… Miacina and Belena. Because those two ships are feeling under appreciated rn.

Miacina:

6. How do they make up/apologize after an argument?

Arguing is actually… pretty dang rare for them, overall, but in terms of making up for it; Mia is much more of a gift giver. She’s just bad with articulating herself, so if she can get something Alcina likes (usually lavander flowers. Alcina seems to adore those), or maybe bake her one of her favored deserts, that coupled with an earnest apology will at least make the situation better.

Alcina’s much better with just… talking it out. She has a much easier time if they can sit down and have a conversation about what happened (or why Mia got upset, if it’s specific to her), though she’s also known to bring Mia treats or hot drinks as a type of apology, given sometimes Mia’s just… hard to make talk after a fight.

They’ll always end up talking about it eventually, and try to find ways to avoid such things in the future, though. 

19. Do they wear each other’s clothes/jewelry?

If she could, I believe Alcina would love to wear Mia’s cardigan. She thinks it looks very warm and likes the idea that it smells like her wife. She fantasizes about this often, though has never brought it up. Mia’s… kind of in the same boat. She like the idea of potentially wearing Alcina’s dresses, but they’re all way too big.

Also I think Mia would be terrified to wear Alcina’s jewelry. It’s just all so fancy and expensive, she’d be afraid of losing it or ruining it somehow. I do think Alcina wouldn’t mind wearing Mia’s $20 earrings, but again, she’s never proposed the idea.

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

They’ve both come to find simple physical affection does wonders for them when they’re upset. Alcina’s a large fan of anything from cuddles to literally just laying down and holding hands. She just finds comfort in having somebody else there, if she’s truly honest. Plus, Mia’s usually good for saying something to make her laugh. Whether it’s a terrible joke or just telling Alcina something to distract her from the problem.

While Mia also adores cuddles, she specifically prefers it when Alcina will pull her into her lap and let her trace shapes on her hands. Something about the patterns calms her down, and she still gets the warm embrace of her big wife. (If there’s ever a time Mia’s upset and being touch avoidant Alcina usually defaults to covering her with a warm blanket and, once again, supplying warm beverage. It’s not as effective, but she respects her wife’s boundaries.)

22. Are they comfortable joking around with each other and being silly/playful?

I believe that Mia has made Alcina more comfortable with just… being silly sometimes. Around her, yes, but also just in general. 

Alcina, just by how she was raised, is refined, and elegant, and doesn’t really partake in a lot of simple humour. But Mia is… none of those things. She likes making stupid jokes, and has crude humour, and is playful, and I definitely think that’s something that rubbed off on Alcina the longer Mia was with her.

They’re at least both comfortable being playful with each other (usually more in private, Alcina still has a reputation to uphold after all), and I like to believe it’s even made Alcina appreciate her daughters’ (usually Daniela’s or Cass’) lighthearted jabs and goofs as well.

29. Describe their nighttime routine. 

They have… vastly different routines from each other.

Alcina takes forever getting ready for bed. She spends what time she needs removing her makeup from the day, removing any earrings/jewelery she may be wearing, then, a long bath (sometimes Mia joins, but this is usually Alcina’s alone time to relax after a long day), changes into her nightgown, and washes her face, probably puts her hair in curlers. Brushes her teeth and gets into bed with a book to read for a little while.

Meanwhile Mia is a much simpler… brushes her teeth (if she remembers), peels out of her clothes, and climbs into bed. She really only sleeps in boxers (maybe a shirt, if it’s cold), and she’s a morning shower person so it doesn’t actually take her that long to get ready for bed.

Once they’re both settled (Usually with Mia snuggled into Alcina’s side while she reads), Mia will do her little shape tracing around Alcina’s midsection. Despite her wack sleep schedule, Mia usually falls asleep first and Alcina has to carefully reposition her when she eventually wants to go to sleep as well.

Belena:

6. How do they make up/apologize after an argument?

Bela would do… literally anything to make it up to Elena if they got in an argument, honestly, she’d feel so guilty. She’d probably write out a little love note and maybe make a little gift (little origami flowers or something). She’d be nervous as hell giving it to Elena, though.

That said, Elena would probably be the same way. She’d feel awful and would want to make it up to Bela anyway she could. Would probably give a whole heartfelt apology speech and ask if there was anything specific she could do to make up for it. 

19. Do they wear each other’s clothes/jewelry?

Firm believer that Bela would wear Elena’s sweater. (It hangs off her like she’s a dang clothing hanger but is also too short so it’s lowkey kind of a crop top on her) Elena thinks it looks great on her despite being both too big and too short on her.

Unfortunately, nothing of Bela’s really fits Elena. (She probably would wear Bela’s choker given the chance, but Bela’s pretty… particular about it being left alone)

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

Bela’s go to is to always get Elena a warm drink. Usually tea, with a little cream and honey (she resists the urge to consume the entire jar in the process). She’s not really… great… with emotional situations, but Elena usually accepts the offering and then Bela will just sit with her until Elena either feels better, wants to talk about it, or asks to be alone. It’s… moderately effective. Elena appreciates the effort.

On the other side, Elena hasn’t quite figured out the best way to comfort Bela. The most effective method she’s found seems to just be… leaving Bela to it, and waiting for her to come out and seek comfort on her own. She respects Bela’s boundaries, she just wishes she could do more to help (that said she does give Bela lots of cuddles when she does come to seek comfort)

22. Are they comfortable joking around with each other and being silly/playful?

This is another one, where I think Elena made Bela comfortable enough to joke around. To a degree. Since Bela has a hard time reading certain social signals, she doesn’t always understand when Elena is trying to joke with her, but she does enjoy some lighthearted goofiness.

I do think there are certain jokes or things Elena can say that will make Bela actually laugh, too, which Cassandra and Daniela believe is witchcraft, because they’re pretty sure they’ve never made/heard Bela legitimately laugh (outside of sadistic reasons) in their lives.

29. Describe their nighttime routine. 

They have a nice couples bath, Bela will dress in her nightgown and wash the makeup off her face while Elena drains the tub, and also puts on a nightgown. Brush teeth, brush hair (Elena doesn’t really get the point of brushing your hair before sleeping but Bela does it and now she’s picked up the habit). They hold hands on their way back to the bedroom, and Elena will eventually pick Bela up so she can (gently) drop her into bed.

They snuggle together and share some kisses between idle chatter until they eventually just drift asleep.

[scorpiongrassfield]

You and Pat are Alone Again 

Start | Prev

Pat is staring blankly at the door. 

“This is… a lot to take in,” they say after an extended silence. 

“Yeah, kind of,” you agree. 

“Does 'Theo' actually exist or was that all just an act?” Pat wonders. 

“I don’t think it was an act, although he did mention sticking to a script a few times."

Pat folds their arms, looking grumpy. “Doesn’t that make it more likely that it was all an act?” 

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.” 

Pat scrunches their eyes up and rubs at their face, looking very tired. 

“You really seem sure he isn’t out to hurt us,” they sigh. 

“I’m not, not really,” you admit. 

Pat gives you a look. 

“It’s just. I want to trust him. I want to be the kind of person that can trust other people,” you explain. 

That seems to knock the wind out of Pat’s sails. They don’t say anything for a long time, but you can practically see the gears turning in their head as they think. 

You aren’t sure what conclusion they come to, or about what, because the next thing they say is “Alright. What now?” 

“Well. Theo wants us to figure something out. So we should probably work on figuring it out,” you say. 

“Back to the murder board, then?” Pat sighs. They’re much less enthusiastic about it now. 

“Probably our best bet, yeah,” you agree. 

The two of you go back to the living room. 

Concrete is batting around a toy mouse. Pat asks it if it knew its dad was secretly a guardian. Concrete pays them absolutely no mind. 

Pat sighs again. They mutter about possession still making the most sense out of the options, but you get the feeling they don’t actually want to argue about it. 

They start pinning up more pieces of paper. These ones have things written on them like “no sun?” and “Deja Vous”. 

While they work, you explain to them what the shadow, or Theo you guess, asked of you before. About the deal, about him knowing Pat better than you, about Pat having asked him to protect you. 

“And I’ve got no recollection of this. Aren’t you supposed to be the one with amnesia?” Pat grumbles. 

“It’s not impossible that you forgot, though.” 

“No, it’s not.” Pat admits. 

Silence falls again. 

The sound of the fire has gotten a bit quieter. You assume that’s Theo’s doing. 

After some time, Pat speaks up again. “I don’t want to believe it,” they murmur.

“Believe what?” There are too many unbelievable options to count at this point. 

“I just… Yeah we had a falling out, and we aren’t exactly friends anymore, but I don’t think she’d ever hurt me. We went our separate ways /because/ she couldn’t hurt me, I’m pretty sure. So why would she fuck with my memory now?” 

You don’t have an answer for them. 

“Plus, not hurting the living is part of her creed. Even if she hates my guts now, she wouldn’t use her powers on me. Unless it was for the ‘greater good’ or something, but… I just don’t know,” they sigh again. 

Your pulse jumps as you realize you can think of a pretty good reason why Ametrine might try to erase some of Pat’s memory. 

You don’t want to think about it. 

“How do her powers work, exactly? If she made us forget that we’ve met Theo before, is that why you keep getting deja vous?” you redirect. 

Pat shakes their head. “No. When she erases memories for a person she basically burns them right out of someone’s head. There’s no recovering that. Although…” Pat trails off. 

You wait for them to continue, pointedly not thinking about it. 

“There was that one time it didn’t work as intended. And that person had a guardian,” Pat pauses to connect the deja vous card to Ametrine, the shadow, and themself.

“Her powers have never worked right when it comes to guardians. I don’t know the specifics, but I do know that someone she made forget about her ended up tracking her down,” they say. 

“So it’s possible that Theo being here kept you from forgetting completely?” you say, trying to keep the sickly sinking feeling out of your stomach. 

“It’s possible,” they agree. 

Concrete comes over to you, curling around your legs and purring. Like it wants to comfort you. 

You’re not thinking about it. 

You aren’t. 

“But. That doesn’t explain why she would want to wipe my memory. I haven’t ratted her out yet, and I probably never will. Me knowing about ghosts isn’t a threat to her, so why…” 

Fuck. 

You’re going to have to think about it. 

But the question is, will you share your thoughts? 

Next

[survivingsusac]

How I Got A state Job

I hope you came ready for a serious campfire talk today, because I wouldn’t even advise smores for this one. Maaaaybe hot chocolate, but this isn’t a feel good smores type convo. This one is, I think, one of the most adulty journal entries I’ve done to date.

For context, to apply for a state job there are a couple steps. 1) You need to register for an account on calcareers.ca.gov. 2) Set up your profile, including your work history. Use action words to engage your resume reader and impression them with all of your experience and work history. 3) You have to fill out information that suggests you qualify for the position you’re applying for. This is poorly named an “exam.” The initial entry level positions in any state agency is Office Assistant, or the slightly higher ones are Program Technician or Office Technician. My 4-year degree made it very straightforward to qualify for the Office Technician exam. Because I have Limited Examination and Appointment Program (LEAP) certification I passed the exam no problem. LEAP certification just means I’m disabled but can do the job just as freaking well and any able-bodied person. Plus, by including LEAP applications and interviewing LEAP applicants, state agencies show their inclusivity. I hadn’t gone through this multi-step application process before because I never sit still long enough to have the patience to do it. Also, the people I know who work for state agencies (well, one state agency) never have much positive feedback to say about it. So why bother, right?

ANYWAYS

When I broke my leg I was trapped by my home-bound recuperation. I was gonna lose my ever-loving MIND. To keep me from losing that very valuable organ I took the exam for an entry level position at state agencies. I began filling out every single application for that position in the county. To get to the point, I got an Office Technician job with the California Highway Patrol. Shortly after, someone told me, “How excited are you to get that fat state job paycheck?!” I hope she was telling a really bad sarcastic joke, because entry level state jobs do NOT pay well. One of my coworkers told me that it’s pretty much minimum wage. I mathed it. IT IS. I make like a dollar above minimum wage. I have wonderful benefits and phenomenal work perks, but I literally work my entire butt off for less than what I could be making at McDonalds. State jobs kick ass health benefits is how I’m surviving my currently weekly subcutaneous infusion schedule. My paycheck barely does a good job covering rent and groceries, and I’m in income-based housing. Which is kinda a joke…and a blog post for another day.

End tangent

I passed my probation period, which for an Office Technician (OT) is 6 months. I think the week after I passed that I took the LEAP exam for Staff Services Analyst (SSA) and passed that one, too. My current mission is to find and apply for all the SSA positions. Specifically the positions that are accepting SSA and Associate Governmental Program Analysts (AGPA). Because this indicates that when I pass probation I could work toward promoting in place to the next level up, which is that AGPA position. I’m always transparent with my supervisor. I let her know, “I’ve applied for X position, I’ll let you know if they want to set up an interview with me.” I don’t have any offers for a position right now. Which is a distressing mix of inferiority complex around how I’m not good enough for anything I’m applying for as well as reality check for being stuck at the level I’m at for longer than I’d like. However, I know God’s timing, which is NEVER what I want it to be, will make it make sense. My anxiety levels are THROUGH THE ROOF RIGHT NOW.

I’m looking at you, Original Holy Dude.

If it was not blasphemous, I’d be giving you extreme side eye.

In my anxiousness to land an SSA position, I have begun applying to ones outside of CHP. I’m submitting an application for pretty much every SSA position at CHP because I absolutely love working at CHP. But I also am submitting ones for other state agencies, like the Department of Rehabilitation (DOR). The DOR works with disabled people who are trying to settle into gainful employment. Some disabled folks need accommodations to do the work that another able bodied person with the same professional expertise could do. Making work plan and connecting disabled individuals with resources is the primary purpose of DOR. I used DOR resources for help for at least 6 months.

The states hiring process moves at a snails pace, though. A snail in molasses. I’ll apply to the position, and then not hear back for if they want to set up an interview with me. When this happens I do my best to not let it go to my head. It’s not because they don’t respect me as an applicant. It’s because they’re focused on getting the new hires desk and setting up the new employees job assignments and duty expectations. The pretty cool thing is though, when I don’t get the position, I learn who the person they hired is by making their new ID Card. So in a very unexpected turn of events, I don’t need and denial notice. I learn that someone else has accepted the position by paying attention to the ID Cards I am making.

Please wish me luck and happy stars.

Surviving Susac,

Aurora