#and the fact is -- no matter how much people like him

[ozzgin]

content: gender neutral reader, NSFW (public lewding, praise kink)

Monster!Butler is an exceptional employee, displaying all virtues one would expect from his job and status. If he is to confess one flaw, however, he would agree his jealousy can become a tremendous weight, especially when it comes to you - his favorite little human.

He first discovered his shameful vice when you brought someone over, your smile a little too wide, your cheeks one shade too red. Oh, what an embarrassing affair, yet he couldn't help it: he paced back and forth outside your door, biting his claws, praying your sanctity wouldn't be defiled by some pathetic creature. He had to take matters in his own hands. He could not stand the thought of someone else having their way with you.

Consequently, the very next day, he proposed to you a peculiar arrangement: if you are to fool around, why not do it with someone you can trust, someone who can guide you along properly? Please, he nearly begged, use him for whatever needs or curiosities you might have.

How he relishes in this cheeky secret of yours! To be the one to know all of your desires and preferences, to be the only one to hear your sweet whimpers. As a matter of fact, he will sometimes afford a little self-indulgence and do something otherwise outrageous; he'll teasingly play with you around other people, almost erratic from the delight of claiming you so shamelessly, so publicly.

Your fingers tremble above the piano keys as the other guests chatter in the neighboring room.

"Just like I taught you, (Y/N)," your loyal butler will encourage you, whispering in your ear. "You're doing so good. I'm proud of you."

You squirm in his lap, feverish and stuffed to the brim. With every movement, you can feel his erection throb inside you, edging you closer.

"I really don't think I can p-play", you mumble, too worried that opening your mouth fully might result in a moan slipping out.

As if to mock you further, he readjusts his seating, pushing himself even deeper. You bite your lip.

"It's only polite we entertain the guests, my dear. Background music is an important element, and it blocks out any other distracting sounds."

His large hands hover underneath your wrists, nudging you to continue.

"You can let go whenever you want," he coos, breaking his usual conduct. "I'm here to take care of it."

Truth be told, the monstrous servant is finding it equally difficult to maintain his composure, especially once you begin jerking in his hold, reaching your peak. He has to bury his snout against your back, releasing a deep, quiet grunt.

God, he adores you so much.

[Monster Butler Intro]

[finelinevogue]

here with me

summary - you convince Azriel to join you at a celebration, only for him to get overwhelmed by the noise and crowd

word count - >1k

pairing - azriel x mate!reader

It was your friend’s birthday and you’d been invited to a her celebration.

It was the kind celebration where friends of friends of friends were invited, so it was quite a large event. This wouldn’t have mattered so much if it wasn’t for the fact the event was being held in her loft apartment in the city.

The loft was open air and spacious, but not when there were fifty-plus people here.

What was worse was that you could tell Azriel hated every minute of being here and he was only here for you.

Az had never been too great with enclosed spaces that felt suffocating or meeting a large group of people he’d never met before. Yet, he had come to keep you company and because he didn’t want you walking back home at night by yourself.

“Are you still with Azriel?” Jasmine, one of your friend’s friends, asked.

“Yeah. We’re mates now.” You said smiling, feeling warm in your chest as you thought about Az.

You took a sip of your drink as liquid courage to keep this conversation going with this stranger.

“Oh amazing! How’s that?”

“What? Being mates?”

“Yeah.”

“Umm…” You never knew how to answer this question when people asked, because how do you explain to someone that being mates and bonded to someone was everything. It had become your entire being.

There was no right word or phrase to explain how it felt. There was no telling someone how it felt when they hadn’t experienced it themselves. The bond was utterly consuming and explosive in a way that a common male would never begin to conceptualise.

“It’s really great.” You answered simply instead, keeping all the real treasures of it to yourself. The real meaning and feeling behind the bond was only for you and Azriel to understand.

“Good.” Jasmine sipped her drink, “So where is he?”

You looked around the room towards the bathroom, seeing as that was where he last mentioned he was going.

In a place like this Azriel wouldn’t leave you willingly unless it was to relieve himself or fetch you another drink. Your heart tightened as you wondered where he had gotten to. Was he okay?

“I… I’m actually going to go and find him.”

You stood up, leaving your drink behind.

The room suddenly felt smaller and tighter without Azriel next to you.

The music too loud and the voices too chaotic.

Your hand subconsciously rubbed over your chest, feeling his absence there more than physically.

You bumped into people as you made your way through the throws of people. The bathroom was in the corner, but when you made your way over there was no one in it.

You gave the bond a tug to make sure everything was still okay. He tugged back instantly, proving that he was okay. Well then, where the Mother was he?

Starting to panic now, you turned around and headed back towards the main throws of people.

“Sorry.” You mumbled to passing people you bumped into.

Then you saw him.

Sat outside on the balcony, tucked in the corner between the glass balcony and the wall of the building. His knees were up to his chest and his arms rested on them, head hung low.

You made a more determined push to get through the masses and to your mate.

You tugged on the bond to make sure Azriel knew you were still there and he tugged back instantly again - now you realised it was out of longing for you to find him rather than call-and-response.

Outside you quickly made your way to him, throwing yourself on the floor in front of him.

“Hey. Hey, i’m here.”

You brought his head up with your hands, forcing him to look at you.

It nearly broke your heart when you saw the tears of relief in his eyes. He gave you a broken smile.

“I’m right here.” You said again, resting your forehead on his.

There was no way to feel close to him right now when you were in this awkward place. You wanted to bundle you both in blankets so tight that you could never figure out how to escape. Being trapped against him forever would be pretty okay.

You kept on affirming to him that you were right there next to him, sending flurries of warmth and affection down the bond to prove it over and over.

“It was too loud.” He said quietly, but enough for you to hear.

“I know.” You said.

Your thumbs rubbed over the soft skin of his cheeks as you stayed close to him. Your presence physically calmed him down, but also emotionally. His anxiety almost halved the moment you slid down beside him and now he was growing stronger by the minute.

“Sorry.”

You shook your head against his. You pulled back slightly to catch his eyes, less teary now.

“No. I’m sorry, for dragging us both here.” You laughed, “Can’t believe we didn’t even get a slice of cake.”

Azriel laughed too and that told you that he was feeling better. That was good.

Hopefully he would feel okay enough in the next few minutes to winnow you out of here. It was too loud and overstimulating for the pleasure of not even being entertained or happy.

“It is a rubbish party.” Azriel admitted. “Only came because I wanted to be with you.”

“I know.” You gave him a sad smile.

How lucky were you to have a mate like him.

“Sorry I’m ruining your friend’s party.” Azriel said.

“Don’t be silly. She hasn’t even noticed we’ve turned up yet. She’s more interested in how many people attended than the actual people.” You scoffed, reminding yourself to lose contact with your friend after tonight.

“That’s pathetic.” Azriel scoffed.

“I think she only invited me because she wanted to claim that the Shadowsinger of the Night Court was in attendance.”

“Using you to get to me? How dare she. That’s a punishable offence.” He frowned.

“Okay, okay.” You laughed. “How about we go back home before we torture anyone? Yeah?”

Azriel shook his head at you, trying to cover his smile with a straight face. You knew him better though. You were starting to know him better or as well as he did himself.

“And what will we do at home?” He asked.

“I bought chocolate frozen ice today.” You said as if that explained everything - but it actually did. Azriel knew you more than well enough to understand.

“Okay, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”

[songmingisthighs]

[5.45] boyfriend!mingi × reader (ft. ateez, esp wooyoung)

⇀ birthday surprise gone horribly wrong

⇁ now ya'll know that i watch reddit stories videos on yt a wee bit too much

genre : angst

warning : mingi is a jerk, wooyoung likes butting in, public humiliation,

wc : 2.1 k

buy me coffee ?

"This party is so great!" Your friend squealed, giving you a side hug as you grinned widely in happiness. "I know!" you let her go to face your boyfriend, "And it's all thanks to Mingi," you leaned to kiss him on the lips but he looked away last minute and took a sip of his drink, causing you to miss his lips. "Don't sweat it," Mingi said, or more likely muttered. "I got to..." he trailed off before walking away, pointing at the direction of his friends.

It was odd for him to be so... quiet with you. It was rather worrying, actually.

Just as you were about to go over to ask Mngi what was wrong, your friend pulled you aside to a corner with an amused grin on her face. "A little birdie told me your boyfriend prepared a surprise," she excitedly whispered, almost squealing. "What? What are you talking about?" you blinked confusedly. "Well, I was talking to some of the girls who wanted to go home early because they live rather far but Wooyoung insisted that they stay because, as he said it, they're going to want to," she winked. Still confused, you narrowed your eyes at her, "And... why would that be? It's probably a cake or they want to perform a Britney Spears song in which it would make sense that Wooyoung would want them to stay." Exasperatedly, your friend scoffed and punched you lightly on your shoulder, "Dude! Mingi is going to propose to you!"

Though you didn't believe her, your face went red and you immediately shot the idea down, "No way! Are you crazy? We've been dating for like 7 months, I haven't even brought up the fact that my parents wanted to meet him! I've been so panicked over all this, I'm still thinking of ways to tell him," you huffed. In that moment, you looked sideways and your eyes met with Mingi. The way he was looking at you was like a smoulder, it sent chills down your spine due to its intensity. You shot him a smile and a small wave, hoping that Mingi would reciprocate in the creative, adorable ways he usually does. But this time, he simply pursed his lips and nodded once at you before averting his gaze, rendering you slightly confused but you try to let him be, thinking that maybe he was just over-stimulated due to the crowd of people in your place. Your friend simply shrugged, "I don't know, I know people who got married after 3 months because they just KNOW they're with the one. Or because they got knocked up, I guess. But anyway, I think something serious is happening down the line and I hope everyone's ready to see it."

"Hi everyone, thank you for attending (y/n)'s surprise party!" Wooyoung's voice caught everyone's attention almost immediately, "We have another surprise so can I please ask for your attention?" "Attention whore!" Yunho jokingly yelled from the back, causing the crowd to laugh and Wooyoung to flip him off. "Anyway, as I was saying before some BITCH cut me off, I'm really happy to see so many people here and I can only assume that it's a testament to how many people love (y/n) and if you agree, let's give a round of applause to her!" and the whole room erupted into roars of claps and people whooping you, rendering you shy as you drop your head and tried to hold in your mouth-ripping grin. The attention occupied your senses so much that you didn't realize that there was one person in the room who didn't join the mass, the one person who mattered most to you.

"That being said, I'm sure (y/n) reciprocates your love for her so in a way, we can say that (y/n) loves a lot of people," Wooyoung said and if you focus on his face, you could see a slight smirk blooming, almost taunting, "And recently we found out that there is a person that (y/n) seem to love a little bit more than others." When Wooyoung turned to cue something up with Mingi helping him, you managed to let the words sink in and when it settled, you found yourself confused. What was Wooyoung talking about? The only person who could have fit such a description was Mingi but he didn't look too happy right at that moment. But the biggest shock didn't come until the TV was turned on and you saw pictures of you that you've never seen before/

Wooyoung stepped back and grinned mischievously, "Now, we see just HOW MUCH (y/n) can love a person even if that person is not her boyfriend, my dear boy Mingi." He pressed on the laptop that was connected to the TV and showed a similar picture of you sitting in front of a guy who you had been seeing quite frequently. "Now you might be wondering, who is this well-dressed man? Where were they? What's going on here? Why were they meeting up?" There were at least three more pictures of the same situation from different angles and seeing them felt like you were being splashed with cold water. "Well, I think the right question should've been 'how long did they think they could hide this shit from her own boyfriend?' right?"

People around you started whispering while glancing at you, talking about the fact that you had just been caught cheating. The happy look on your face as you hugged the guy in the picture and the way you simply found comfort in his embrace was not making the situation any better. Honestly, the situation was worse because of it, especially for Mingi who was trying his best to not look at the pictures again. When Wooyoung came to him with those pictures, he didn't want to believe that you were cheating on him, someone as sweet as you, someone who had openly and verbally appreciated and loved him and even made a promise not to hurt him. That was a week ago and Mingi had had half a mind to cancel the birthday surprise party he had meticulously planned for you (it was mostly Yunho and Jongho because had it been left completely to Mingi, the party would just be two pizzas and some beer with streamers as decoration), but Wooyoung had another idea that he thought would be MUCH better. Wooyoung was looking proud of himself for revealing that while Mingi was glaring at you, looking visibly angry with the way he was breathing heavily. "Well, do you have anything to say to your BOYFRIEND, (y/n)?"

Your brain was on the verge of collapsing due to information rushing into your brain all at once, not knowing which, who, or where to address first.

It was then that the front door opened and closed and you heard people gasping in surprise.

How can they not? The guy in the picture in front of them was standing there with a gift in hand.

"What's going on?" he asked, confused, looking around at the people staring, pointing at him.

His voice seem to broke you out of your trance and your eyes immediately watered. Tears of embarrassment started pouring out of your eyes as you looked up at him.

"Seonghwa," you choked out, calling for him.

Seeing you in such a state, Seonghwa's eyes widened and he dropped the gift in panic, "(y/n), what's wrong? What happened?" Seonghwa was about to step forward to you when Wooyoung scoffed, "Of course he's here to hide in plain sight, throwing off people because who would imagine the accomplice to be together so blatantly, right?" Some people laughed at Wooyoung's jab and it was at that moment you completely broke and your dashed to your room. Once your door slammed shut, your best friend stepped up and pushed Wooyoung harshly, sending him reeling a few steps back. "What the fuck is wrong with you!?" she screamed, "Why would you make a spectacle like this!?" Wooyoung huffed and regained his composure, but Mingi shot back at her, "Are you seriously condoning her action? She betrayed me and you think attacking Wooyoung is okay? It's bad enough she broke my trust, she HAD to have him here too?" Mingi spat as he jabbed his thumb at Seonghwa's direction.

Seonghwa's eyebrows furrowed, "Excuse me?" Mingi finally stepped up and went face-to-face with Seonghwa and his 6 ft stature easily towered over Seonghwa. Despite that, Seonghwa didn't waver for a bit. "You have some nerve coming here. Don't you have some shame?" Mingi asked. Still confused, Seonghwa could only stare at Mingi in disbelief, "What are you talking about? (y/n) invited me, what do you mean I have some nerve?" "Can you blame (y/n)'s boyfriend when you were caught getting all cosy with (y/n) behind his back? What were you even trying to do anyway?" Wooyoung piped back up/

When Seonghwa averted his eyes to Wooyoung, he finally realized the picture of him hugging you on the screen. "I was congratulating her on how serious her relationship had become with her boyfriend and I was telling her that I'd have her back when she finally decided to introduce her boyfriend to her parents," he said matter-of-factly. At the mention of being introduced to your parents, Mingi's heart skipped a beat for a moment but he kept his resolve. "And which boyfriend were you talking about, Mingi or you?" Wooyoung smirked.

Almost immediately, Seonghwa's face scrunched into cringe and he reeled back as if he had just gotten hit, "Ew! I'm her cousin!"

The whole room froze, especially Mingi and Wooyoung who looked like he had just seen a ghost.

"What?" Mingi whispered, needing a confirmation.

"I'm (y/n)'s cousin. We met up because she asked me for my help to support her AND YOU when you go to meet her parents. They have been pressuring her and she thought she finally found someone she could bring home," realization dawned on Seonghwa and his initial confusion melted into disgust, "Now, I think she's wrong."

Wooyoung's eyes widened and so did Mingi's. They were left gaping like fishes out of the water, not knowing how to react as they processed the fact that they had just made themselves not only look like idiots but also assholes.

The sound of a door slamming was heard and you showed up with eyes red, cheeks wet, and bottom lip trembling. Surprisingly (to everyone and even himself), Mingi was the first one to rush to you, crouching to look you in the eyes but you simply looked to the side, avoiding his gaze. "Baby, are you okay? I-I'm- I- Can we talk?" It was practically pathetic that Mingi switched his demeanour so quickly, but it was the first thing that he could think of.

"Get me out of here," you croaked, the brokenness of your voice tugged the strings of Mingi's heart as the guilt of what he did started to accumulate. "You wanna get out of here? Okay, we can do it, I'll get you out. Where do you want to go to? I-I can find somewhere or do you somewhere in mind already? I know it's just-" "Seonghwa," You cut him off, ignoring him as you looked up straight to your cousin, "Please get me out of here."

You didn't have to say twice before Seonghwa rushed to you, pushing Mingi out of the way (obviously intentionally) to get you out. When you walked past him, Mingi finally saw the large bag you had in your hand and the sight served as concrete proof of how much he fucked up.

On your way out, Seonghwa managed to scoop the birthday present he had accidentally dropped and momentarily turned around to glare at Mingi, "I'm taking this because my favourite cousin deserves one good thing now after what you did and you can bet I'm turning this day around for her," he hissed before finally leaving with you who couldn't even spare one last glance at anyone else and no one could blame you.

Silence hung in the air for two minutes before guests started trickling out, muttering shit excuses like having a curfew or needing to relieve their cat-sitter until there were just your friends and Mingi's inside. Your friend glared at Mingi and Wooyoung with so much disgust, they might as well have been chin-deep in a vat of butcher scraps mixed with manure. "I hope you're fucking happy doing this on her birthday you sick fucks," she spat before turning and leaving, the other people in your friend group joining. After they all left, Yunho and Jongho stayed back, looking at their friends in disbelief because they never thought their friends could pull something like that.

"You couldn't have asked her first or gather more evidence?" Jongho asked, scoffing. Wooyoung flipped him off while Mingi let out a sharp exhale as he slid down the wall behind him, "Shut up man," he halfheartedly muttered.

Served him right.

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[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 4- Forced Proximity

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: medical stuff, use of weapons, cannon typical violence, death.

AN: 2 parts in under 24 hours? I have to focus on my main projects I can't focus with this part sitting in my drafts.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

“You’re really going to make me go into Al Qatala territory with nothing?” You ask as Ghost prepares his weapon. 

“What do you mean you’re going in with the best of us.” Soap says winking at you. You frown at him looking back over at Ghost. 

“Just give me my pistol back. What? You think I'm going to shoot him?” You scoff. There’s silence in the room, you look around. Yes, yes they do think that. You sigh, zipping your jacket up and going over to the door. 

You wait in silence as Ghost comes to stand next to you. He’s dressed in full gear and you’re in basic clothes, not even anything camouflaged. 

“Here.” Gaz comes over to you handing you a radio and an earpiece. You frown at him. 

“I don’t know how to use this.” You say. 

“You’ll figure it out.” He says walking back over to the sofa with Price who’s been watching you the whole time. You clip the radio onto your belt and put the earpiece in fiddling with what you think is the volume tuner. 

“Ready?” Ghost asks. You look up at him and nod. “How far is this place again?” 

“A few kilometres east.” You respond. He reaches over, handing you a knife hilt first. You almost want to laugh at him. 

“Can’t do much with a knife.” You say, it’s spitfull, you want your gun back. You take the knife regardless.

“You can do alot with a knife.” He says and reaches down opening the door and walking out into the night. 

“Good luck.” Price calls. You look back at him and nod. 

You tuck the knife into your belt and follow Ghost into the darkness. 

…

“How did you know about this place?” Ghost asks as you make it to the entrance of the town.

“It was taken over by Al Qatala about a year ago. Been pretty much abandoned since then.” You say, the wind has picked up and you can see thick clouds in the sky blocking out the light from the moon.

“The ULF don’t come this far north, it’s a good way point for smugglers.” You say. You’ve passed through here many times. 

“You really seem to hate the ULF.” He says as a matter of fact.

“They’re both as bad as each other. If anything Konni have been the best, at least for work.” 

“Doesn’t bother you, they're helping terrorists.” He says, there's a bitterness in his voice. 

“The ULF killed my father in a hospital.” You say, anger rises in you. “I never got to say goodbye, I never got to see his body.” 

“You said your mum worked for them.” 

“She did, she was killed by Al Qatala, she was working for Farah.” You say, he doesn’t say anything. You make it to the top of the street. 

“Right.” You say pointing down the road. You walk down in silence, there are some streetlights working rigged up by whoever is using this town for now. 

“What about you? You’re British living a comfy life. What are you doing here?” You ask. 

“We’re after someone.” 

“In Al Qatala? It’s pretty clear you’re friendly with the queen bee.” He shakes his head.

“No.” He says stopping. You hum looking over at him. His eyes are darting around. You look into the darkness of the town, you can’t see or hear anything. 

“Ever killed anyone?” He asks suddenly and keeps walking. 

“Maybe.” You say trying to sound confident. “Why should it matter, you’re a soldier, you took an oath before you killed people. At least I’m doing it to keep innocent people alive.” 

“You smuggle people for Konni, Makarov.”

“I’ve smuggled people for the ULF too, like I said, I work for whoever pays.” He scoffs. You’re surprised, he usually seems so reserved. There’s a reason for the mask. 

“Proper opportunist aren't you?” You can hear the sarcasm in his voice. 

“Fuck you.” You snap, shaking your head. You go turn the corner ignoring his remarks. Suddenly he grabs your arm and pulls you between some buildings. 

“Get the fuck off-” he slams his hand over your mouth pulling you against his chest. You start to fight him then you hear voices. You stop struggling as they get closer.

“The place is empty, why are we back here?” You hear one of them say in arabic. 

“Khaled wants to take this place over. Use it to cut off the ULF movements.” Someone else replies. Does Ghost understand arabic? You assume he doesn’t. 

“I thought I would be home with my family before the end of the month.” 

“When was the last time you saw them?” The other asks as you watch them pass past you. 

“10 months ago.” 

“You’ll see them soon, mashallah.” They walk out your view, their lights fading, leaving you back in darkness. Ghost’s hand leaves your mouth, your heart is hammering in your chest. He lets you stand up, releasing his grip round you. You want to thank him, they would have killed you if they’d seen you. How did he even hear them coming?

“Let's move.” he whispers, pushing past you out towards the street. You follow him close as you walk out into the street, sticking close to the buildings and following the shadows. 

“Up there to the left.” You say pointing at a building ahead of you both. The place is surrounded by a chain link fence. The building looks more rundown than you remember.

“Round the back there's a smashed in door, I doubt it’s been repaired.” You say behind Ghost, still trying to keep your voice low. 

“Copy.” He says. You let him lead, following him close to the building. He pulls something off his vest cutting the links in the fence. He holds it open, nodding at you to sneak through. You go through first heading over to the door. It’s open, you can see from here. You just hope the place hasn’t been raided too hard. 

The place is dark, there are no lights, no electricity. Ghost comes in behind you clicking on a torch. He hands you another one, you take it out his hands turning it on and shining it over the signs. 

“Who taught you English?” He asks. 

“My parents said if I wanted to go anywhere in life I should learn English. I was brought up speaking both.” You keep the fact you can speak Russian silent. Don’t ask, don’t tell. The more advantages you have over them the better. 

“Here.” You say shining the torch over a room that says surgery. The room looks like it’s just been closed up for the night. Cupboards are still full of sterile supplies. That's good, you should be able to find everything you need.

“I’m going to check for other supplies. Are you good here?”  You look over at him nodding and pick up a bag off the counter, you watch him leave the doorway and head into another room down the hall.

You’re not going to be able to find drugs. Price could use local anaesthesia and antibiotics, you don’t even know where to start with human medicine, never mind dog medicine. You recognise tools though, sealed sterile gloves and tweezers, scalpels and plenty of different bandages and gauze. 

You turn in the room walking round the table and over to the other side looking for wraps, something you can use to make a somewhat sterile field. You try to remember what you’ve seen from interning at the hospital for the last few years. You smile as you fill the bag, your parents were right, in the end the education was useful. 

Suddenly you hear a crash, grunting. Someone's in the building. There's an audible grunt, the sound punches, scraping of furniture. There’s no gunfire, you rush over to the hallway following the noise. You can see lights flashing in a room, you burst through the door.

It’s hand to hand contact, they’re fighting on the floor, the stranger is on top of Ghost. You’re not thinking, if Ghost dies they’ll kill you. No matter what you say they’ll kill you. Your hand feels for the knife in your belt.

The man on top of Ghost looks bigger, he's not wearing any body armor, Ghost's weapon flung to the side. You don’t have time to think you take the knife off your waist and jump at the guy on Ghost, plunging it into the man's neck. Blood spurts out covering you all. There’s no noise, you hit the carotid. 

His body goes limp after a few seconds and you stand up. Ghost pushes the body off him. You reach out offering him your hand. He hesitates for a second before accepting it and you pull him up. 

“Hurry up, we need to go.” He says reaching down to pull the knife out his neck. He wipes it on his leg before handing it back to you.

“Fuck me, not even a thank you.” You scoff putting the knife back on your hip. You leave the room going back into the surgery. You pack the last of the gauze and whatever sterile supplies you can find. An opened scalpel falls on the floor making you jump. 

It still has the cover over the blade. You’ll have to give the knife back to Ghost but the scalpel, it’s small, no one would know you have it. 

“Let’s go.” Ghost calls sticking his head in the room before leaving back towards the back door. You look at the scalpel on the floor. 

If you take it and they find it they could kill you. If you leave it you have no way to defend yourself either way. You sigh looking over at the door. 

How easy it would be to betray them.

..

It’s raining when you make it back to the safe house. They’ve piled the bodies up in the shed. They probably won’t get any kind of funeral until Farah’s troops get here, even then if she learns who they are they’ll most likely be dumped somewhere. Or buried in a mass grave, not like the commander in Chief of the ULF has time for Russian Al Qatala operatives. 

“What happened!?” Soap asks, rushing up to Ghost. The rain washed most of the blood off you both, but not all. 

“Nothing. Just a slight complication.” You shake your head going over to the sofa and putting the bags down. Price looks up at you, you smile at him. 

“Can I get cleaned up?” You ask the room. 

“Yeah.” Price says. You walk over to Ghost being fussed over by Soap. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns to look at you. You hold the knife out for him. 

“Here.” You say. He takes it out of your hand but doesn’t say anything. You huff pressing your lips together, you didn’t expect anything. You turn to head up to the bathroom. 

“Thanks.” He calls. It stops you in your tracks. You turn back and nod at him. The scalpel you hid in your waistband suddenly feels like a lead weight. 

Banners by plum98

[erenstitanweave]

❥HOW WE LOVE III

pairing: various x reader (vi, caitlyn, vander)

rating: giving/receiving love language headcanons

a/n: so, this is officially a new series! please keep in mind this will be my first time writing for all upcoming characters, respectful criticism and advice on how to write them is welcome! SPOILER ALERT!! reblogs and comments are appreciated, hope you enjoy!!

VI

giving:

poor vi, her eldest daughter syndrome bleeds through every aspect of her life (relatable but we move on)

all jokes (are we joking though??) aside, i think vi would be hesitant to love quickly or even love at all

vi isn't someone who shows her love through words though, so i feel like if she really began to care and love you, she would show it though her actions

i feel like her main type of acts of service would be protecting you in some manner, whether it be verbally or physically

she's genuinely afraid of losing you, so the protective nature would be slightly overbearing in cases where she's on the edge, but other than that, it's pretty standard.

quality time is another big one for her, not just because it's also a way for her to trust you, but because she'd quite literally just want to get to know you better

i could see this being the case whether or not you live the same type of life (i.e: being a zaunite or not)

i feel like she's seen enough to know that regardless of what side you're on, experiences vary for everyone, and she'd just want to know yours and through that, open up to you

small side tangent, but she's TOUCHY.

once she's attached to you, so are her hands. they quite literally are always on you in some way, whether that be through subtle touches (i.e: letting her hand graze against your side when she walks past you, her hands lingering too long as she's holding you, etc.) or through much more obvious ones like an arm wrapped around your waist

receiving:

although she is a protecter by nature, this causes her to be very wary of people and not very trusting of just anyone

i feel like she wouldn't just prefer acts of service but she would need it in order for her to begin to trust you

acts of service, subconsciously or not, are vital to slowly letting down her walls and letting her become trust worthy of you, but once they're down, it's game over

we see in the show how she is once she trusts someone, she shakes off the shell she shows the world and just becomes herself.

i feel like she'd love someone who can't keep their hands off her (except in the obvious situations)

even lingering gazes would make this girl WEAK and she knows it, so just imagine what having your hands all over her does to her brain (short answer: she short circuits)

much like vander, i think a part of her craves words of affirmation because of how her past mistakes constantly haunt and consume her being

even though a part of her knows it isn't her fault things turned out the way it did, a part of her mind won't allow her to believe it

even if she never might truly believe or accept this fact, hearing you tell her good things about herself and praise her makes her head spin with this feeling she can't explain, but all she knows is that it's one she'd never let go

VANDER

giving:

vander to me is probably one of the more protective characters in the show and i think his love languages in terms of giving reflect that heavily

i personally think he'd adore quality time the most, being the man he is, he doesn't really get much time to himself outside of his kids and dealing with the Lanes

it doesn't really matter what kind of quality time to him either imo, i think he'd be most comfortable with just being in your presence, even if you two aren't saying anything

one of his favorites moments though, is seeing you with his kids

he adores seeing you with them, the sight warming his heart knowing the family he works so hard to keep together is happy

words of affirmation i can see being another huge one for him, he'd definitely let you know that you're doing good in whatever you may be doing or even just making it through each day

he'd often pull you aside to let you know though, wanting his words to only be for you and not the prying eyes of others (or the kids potentially listening in on you both)

i could see vander being into physical touch, but only very slightly if it's in public

if you were behind the bar with him, he'd ever so slightly graze the small of your back with his palm or subtly grab onto your waist as he cleaned off the bar

he's an asshole though (lovingly, of course) and would do this especially if you were talking to someone just to get a laugh out of it

he'd be extra careful with this though, as he knows that he constantly has eyes on him, ones that could be dangerous to you if he overdoes his affections

receiving:

i could see vander loving words of affirmation in return, he definitely needs to hear that he's doing a good job taking care of his kids (especially when he feels like they fuck up because of him)

i also can see him holding a lot of doubts about past decisions in all aspects, so just hearing you tell him that he's doing good and that everything will be alright grounds him more than anything

even just telling him that he's a good father, even with his faults and past mistakes will make him feel so much better, no doubt making him fall for you even more than he thought possible

he's the biggest sucker for physical touch too, especially really subtle ones just for the two of you

don't get him wrong, he loves big gestures of physical affection, but he's not alone with you often, making the subtle ones happen a lot more often

he definitely loves holding hands and interlocking fingers especially, the latter being the one you two do more often when around most people

but when the last drop is closed to outsiders and is usually just benzo, the kids, and yourselves, he's all over you

he'll mostly have you in his lap if you're not off with the kids, or just hugging you from behind

CAITLYN

giving:

this girl is a bit of a tough one for me i won't even lie, but she's very well meaning in most aspects

i feel like she'd be into quality time and gift giving honestly

hear me out though, living in piltover her whole life and only recently seeing for herself how the world is and how things can change in an instant makes me think she'd gravitate towards spending time with you in one way or another

it doesn't even have to be explicitly spending time together either, just the fact that you'd be near her would be enough, especially if you're close enough to where she could protect you if need be

her protective nature is one reason why time with you is so sacred to her, not only that she'd be able to cherish her time with you, but that she'd truly be able to appreciate life in it's entirety

the gift giving aspect simply stems from her being wealthy (well not really)

i just see her as someone who expresses herself and what she wants to say with actions, and those actions are gifts

doesn't matter what you like honestly, she'd get it somehow. luxurious clothes? boom, right there on your shared bed. foods or sweets? she somehow has the entire stock right in front of you with a small smile on her face

both of these, to me, just stem from her innate desire to make you happy

she wants to give her lover the world, and with all she's seen in such a short amount of time after being spoonfed certain things about the world, she wants to make sure you're happy with her for as long as you both live

receiving:

receiving is a slight improvement but honestly she screams physical touch and words of affirmation yearner

think about it, being as skilled as she is, she's probably gotten praise about it from everyone

from you, though? it's way different in her mind, especially if you actually talk about why you give her the praises you do

she's expected the praise by now, but to her, it'd feel different because with you, it didn't feel..obligatory or forced

it wouldn't feel like the stuffy, fake pleasantries she'd be used to being in such a high place of power all her life, but something much more sincere and loving

she'd crave it, even going so far as to push herself beyond her limits just to hear you praise and support her for doing so

physical touch to me is another big one for her, i could see touching being a huge factor for her simply because of the intimacy

she most likely has never had anyone as close to her as her lover, so the sheer intimacy with even the slightest of touches knowing that she will only allow this from you is mindblowing for her in the best ways possible

[jd-loves-fiction]

Hello hello :3

I'm not sure if you take platonic requests so if you get to mine and you don't, pls lmk <3

Anyway. I would like to request platonic Boothill, Sampo, Mydei (if you can't write him yet then it's okay) and the Astral Express crew (you can leave out characters if it's too much) with a reader who is a former slave like Aventurine but they escaped by force and now respond to certain gestures with violence. Think about it like a wounded animal you're trying to approach. They lash out, bite, scratch, attack, anything.

🌑hello dear welcome!! I do take platonic requests 🫡and you can request as many characters as you want just know the more there are the longer I'll take😅 also I love love this idea 👀👀

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

Ooh he gets it

You can't exactly hurt him, given the metal body, but even if you try he won't hold it against you

The circumstances might not be the same but he undoubtedly became a different, not violent, man after what the IPC did to his planet

Plus being a galaxy ranger is a lonely existence by design

He respects your need to distance yourself from people

But I feel there's a nurturing side to Boothill he doesn't get to tap into very often

So there's a part of him that will try to comfort you? Relate to you? He doesn't know what he's doing himself but something in his heart breaks for you and pulls him towards you

One stubborn fella about helping you but quite sturdy, let's say he's the guy letting the dog bite him to get its anger out and know that he can be trusted 🥺

✦ 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐨 ✦

Menace I love him

Sampo is a con-man salesman - he wants to know everyone's secrets so that he can exploit them for his benefit

But there's some lines even he won't cross

He's got a soft heart somewhere in there (deep in there) so you can expect that he'll go easy on you when he comes to his scheming

Plus he knows how to calculate risk, so if messing with you is highly likely to get him fucked up, he won't try you... Too much

Another man whose life wasn't exactly easy (which is why he's the way he is) and with a soft spot for people with a similarly difficult past

I think he'd find his own way of showing companionship, implying that you can talk to him about stuff if you want (tho he won't blame you for thinking he's just trying to get to your secrets) and stuff like that. He'll just be very subtle about how honest he's being

Let's say he's the guy slowly leaving treats for the dog and pretending like he doesn't care if it likes him or not (he really does, he's incredibly intrigued)

✦ 𝐌𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐢 ✦

New character so bear with me

I feel like you're very similar in this way

He's got a heart of gold under all that aggression, specially when it comes to his people

He's just bad at expressing it in a gentle way😅

His childhood was... Traumatic to say the least, violence is all he knows

Another sturdy guy, he's literally immortal and seems to enjoy a good fight so hitting him in any way might just start a sparring session💀

If he doesn't know you, he wouldn't engage, he's got better things to worry about

But if he does, you might get to see a gentleness from him no one thought him capable of

He's a patient man but he genuinely wants to see you learn to live with your trauma like him

I don't think he's done healing, mind you, but you might be able to learn something from each other about living with your demons

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

So much father energy LORD

The way he just immediately takes Sunday under his wing? Guiding him gently and patiently? That's a dad right there

He's deeply altruistic so he will try to help you please don't fight it😭

He's canonically one of the strongest characters so don't worry about hurting him. The fact that you even had to live through what you did, hurts him much more

Gentle but insistent, is how I'd describe him

He will not give up on you no matter what and that is a promise

When and if you decide to open up, he's a great listener

But even if you don't, he'll be there always🫡 because he genuinely just wants to see you be happy

✦ 𝐇𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐤𝐨 ✦

A fearless woman if I ever saw one

On the express she mostly keeps to herself, y'know navigating

But she undoubtedly cares deeply about the team so if you're part of it (let's say you are) you're included in that sentiment

She's not exactly... Motherly, per say, but she does care. She's just a bit... Awkward about it?

The type to do things like invite you to have coffee with her (don't drink it), or offer to teach you about navigating and stuff like that, just try to make you feel included

Not the type to outright ask about what happened but will listen if you tell her and will not judge - she doesn't see anything wrong with the way you handled things (Sunday train flashbacks)

Knows you're capable of protecting yourself, but will become somewhat protective of you

Tries to avoid setting you off as much as possible, she can hold her own no problem but she'd feel terrible if she hurt you in some way

✦ 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟕𝐭𝐡 ✦

Sunshine incarnate

Might come off as overly friendly upon first meeting so if that sets you off well... she'll learn her lesson... maybe

Doesn't remember her past so if you don't wanna talk about yours it's all good with her

But if you do, she's a surprisingly good listener

Tho if you decide to be rude or aggressive to push her away, she'll definitely take it to heart, at first

She'll mope about it for a bit before her determination takes over

She wants to be your friend damnit 😡

She'll call you out for being rude but stick around regardless

She's got thicker skin than expected and she's hard to shake off (like a puppy...) if she decides she wants to be your friend, that's what she's gonna do

Plus after that first time, being rude to push her away won't work, she'll just talk right over you

In the end, she might just win you over through sheer determination 😭

✦ 𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠 ✦

Oh he cares so much bless him

Dan Heng is extremely protective of those he's close to

If you're in the express, you're immediately included in that

Quiet comfort is his thing

Like sitting together quietly because you just need some company while he reads or even offering a game of chess as a distraction

Doesn't blame you for how you react, but if you become physically dangerous to be around he will be the first to restrain you

Just because he gets it doesn't mean he likes seeing the people around him get hurt

I feel like he's got some words of wisdom regarding how to make peace with your past

But beyond that he's good to have around because he doesn't push for answers at all

Nobody knew about his past when he came onto the express so he'd be kind of a hypocrite if he cared

It's inevitable that he becomes attached and when he does he becomes just as protective with you as with any other member of the express, regardless of your past

[ninguitar]

LOVE ON A WIRE.　 08. i want nunu wc. 26OO+

❛ megan has never, ever wanted anything as bad in her life, until you—an underground singer and songwriter, is unemployed, and the textbook definition of a loser—stroll into her heart and her life. matter of fact, what happens when she accidentally replies to your thirst-traps that were a rebounding joke after a rough break-up, on twitter, and on the katseye account? ❜

"christ…" you mumble under your breath, a sullen sigh falling from your lips, as you manage to walk through the crowd, your eyes darting around to search for your friends. every few seconds, you'd flash a faux smile at somebody, that would soon falter shortly after. you shuffle through the crowd, intak finally getting into your line of view, as a small smile curbs your lips. waving your hands up, the korean boy rushes to your side.

"this was definitely a turnout," intak mutters, his tone betrayed by the way a grin adorns his face and his eyes creasing like crescents. "can't believe aeri and yunjin know all these people," he whispers, his eyes wandering around the crowd, as his arm wraps around your shoulder, his teeth on the rim of his solo cup of spiked punch. you shake your head, a chuckle escaping your breath.

"you're good though, right? with playing in front of the crowd, i mean," you ask, nudging the taller boy's shoulder playfully, as a crooked smile tugs at the corners of his lips. intak nods his head, squeezing your shoulder lightly, as he bites the inside of his cheek.

the crowd presses in around you two, booze being passed around, while you two were tucked in your dorm kitchen, that you were lucky enough to use without your roommates scolding and berating you. your dorm was practically filled to the brim with people you barely knew; god that was a calling for somebody to just throw-up all over your furniture, and you couldn't help but chastise yourself for following through with this party.

intak suddenly speaks up, nudging your shoulder, and whistling, "isn't that the 'fine shit' you're always tweetin' about?" he muses, and you scowl at his bluntness, rolling your eyes. you nonetheless, though, crane your neck up, your eyes meeting some girl, who you're pretty sure is part of katseye.

fuck.

your hands brush up against intak's nervously, as you nudge the boy, chiding, "fuck, you idiot! one of them saw me starin'," you gruff, as you watch intak put his arms up, feigning innocence. he shrugs with his broad shoulders, as he watches you practically melt down onto the floor, a laugh escaping from his throat at your antics.

"maybe—just maybe—you'll pull tonight," the korean boy teases, his hand ruffling your hair playfully, and you're so sure that anybody could see the heat curling at your cheeks, as you watch a few of the katseye members enter and weave through the crowd. alarm bells ring through your head, as your brows are knitted together, unconsciously staring at the ginger-headed one.

carding a hand through your hair, your hand going to play with the straggling piece of hair. a smirk graces intak's lips, as he watches your gaze intently, "you want the ginger, am i right, or am i right? you pretend to not hear the korean boy, letting the pulsating music, laughter, and vibrant energy of the party distract you. he takes a swig from his solo cup, invested in how you'll somehow fumble in real-time, right in front of him as well.

"where's the rest anyway?" you ask, your eyes flickering around the crowd to try to search for any of your guys' friends. the boy beside you shrugs, a look of confusion washing over his features, "aren't they meant to be setting up the equipment? either that or, they're shit-faced drunk."

"could be both," a giggle falls from your lips, before you look up, noticing the way a few of the katseye members briskly walk up to you. a string of curses escape your breath, as you try to avoid their gaze as much as possible, patting intak's shoulder to regain his attention.

shit, shit, shit.

he scoffs, instinctively slipping his arms over your shoulder, and rolling his eyes. a slight scowl accompanies your face at his touch, as his eyes droop down to you, mimicking your face to mock you. your facial expression slightly wavers though, as your eyes shamelessly trail down the ginger girl. you exhale, your ears burning in embarrassment, as you realize how you were practically ogling the poor girl.

"act normal, freak," intak giggles quietly, flicking your forehead lightly, and in return, a low grunt escapes your breath.

and fortunately for you, lara approaches first, the girl pulling you into a hug. a soft smile curbs your lips, as you watch the korean boy gingerly stand beside you, his eyes wandering everywhere to distract himself. your hand brushes up against the small of her back, as you wave at the rest of the members, softly humming.

"it's been so long, god! i've missed you," lara exclaims, a smile on her face. you nod, your eyes crinkling into crescents, and a relieved sigh escaping your breath. you extend your hand over to the rest of the girls, your eyes fixating on the ginger one while you do so—what was her name again? hell, you're pretty sure that she told you, and that you heard it, but it most definitely flew through your other ear—especially when your eyes were too busy scanning her features, specifically her lips.

and before you could introduce yourself too, intak taps your shoulder in a hurry, as yunjin ushers to your side, whispering something about needing you to start performing. you awkwardly mumble out a half-assed apology, "shit, sorry, i'll see you guys in like half an hour?" you curtly follow after yunjin and intak, groaning under your breath, "you guys couldn't give me at least a ten minute warning?"

you hastily fasten on your guitar strap, adjusting it slightly, as you watch yunjin's face contort into one of annoyance, "you would've been more pissed that you couldn't see that ice spice lookalike of yours if i did." she quips, a teasing grin flashing on her face, shooting you a knowing look.

"you're looking real punchable, y'know that? you and intak are like thing 1 and thing 2."

yunjin scoffs, shoving your head playfully, as her eyes flicker back to intak, making sure he was set and ready to go. "don't fuck tonight up, yn, i know you. don't accidentally wake up in some girl's room after tonight, the same way you did with julie." she lightly scolds you, shaking her head, and exhaling, intak nods his head, chiming in, "yeah, and make sure soobin doesn't go on some search party for you again." he jokes, trying to lighten the mood up.

"yeah, yeah, thanks mom 'n dad," you lament, nudging yunjin, but you knew your two friends meant well; you just wanted to tease them. you micmic a saluting pose at yunjin, making her roll her eyes.

you take a swig from the korean girl's cup, before scowling, closing your eyes shut, "jesus, never mix alcohol ever again!" you exclaim, and you grit your teeth, as you hand the cup back to the girl, who watches over you with a shit-eating grin. while you were busy trying to get rid of the repulsive taste of yunjin's mix of alcohol off your tongue, intak grabs a mic, exclaiming out, "could i get everybody's attention real quick!"

"oh, god," a string of curses escape from under your breath, as you watch intak speak up—the boy a bit tipsy, and it was evident in the way he breathlessly exclaims out words without any hesitation.

"like everybody knows, yn released her new record today! 'n to celebrate that, and also to cut back on fees, she'll be performing a little snippet of her songs, instead of the traditional band and dj shit!"

you rub your temples at the way the korean boy staggers, and you instinctively rush to his side, your hand squeezing his shoulder. fucking christ—one drink, and the man's already down. a series of giggles escapes your breath, as you watch the crowd erupt into a wave of laughter too. you shoot intak a frustrated look before a sigh drifts from your lips, and patting his shoulder, you nonetheless let the music blaring sink into the instrumental of one of your songs. your hands drift to your hello-kitty guitar, softly hovering over the strings, as a smile tugs your lips.

and while you finish up the rest of your last song, megan's eyes trail down your body, practically entranced by you. fuck. she was an idol, and you were a musician, too; the media would explode, and katseye has barely reached their one-year. this was stupid, really.

once you were done with your last song, you immediately try to gently drop your guitar onto yunjin's hands abruptly, eliciting a grunt from the korean girl, as you grab a cup of alcohol from the table, your teeth biting the rim of it. the ginger-headed girl's gaze hasn't left the back of your head; you could probably see it through the reflection, but who cares?

you laxly grasp the cup of alcohol, your cheeks flushed, as you lean against your kitchen counter, "party's better than my expectations," you gruff, patting yunjin's shoulder, and pulling her in for a side-hug, "thanks to you 'n the rest. fuck, i still don't know where half our group is!" the korean girl shakes her head, a soft smile playing on her lips, "you did good out there, y'know that? can't believe you went from some disaster on twitter, posting songs about your exes, to this," she murmurs, her voice laced with unbridled sincerity.

you giggle, "you should really try out for producing, jen. you got the talent for it," you shrug, as the music continues to blast through your dorm, making you pause in your words. before you could continue your words, a figure abruptly bumps into you, making you accidentally douse your clothes in alcohol. your eyes bulge out for a second, and you're met by a familiar face. what was your luck tonight?

"oh, shit, sorry—hey," the ginger-haired girl profusely apologizes, wetting her lips, as she takes you in; god was she fumbling, and in front of you, too. she laughs softly, the sound of it hypnotizing, as she reaches a hand out to place on your shoulder. the expression sporting her face is practically akin to one of a deer in headlights.

"it's fine, really, don't worry about it, pretty," your lips move faster than your mind, because you don't even realize the way the word slips out of your mouth, rolling off your tongue smoothly—like you meant it wholeheartedly. heat curls at your cheeks the moment you realize, "fuck, i didn't mean that—not that you aren't pretty, of course, you are; you're like, the epitome of gorgeous. but i just didn't mean it that way!"

you wished you could just disappear from the face of the earth right now. you were just so sure that the way your cheeks and ears flare with heat was god-awfully obvious, as you stumble over your words, an awkward smile on your lips.

you flinch as the girl speaks up, a series of giggles falling from her breath, as she shakes her head. your gaze fixates on her face, from the way her prominent dimples adorned her face, to her lips. god, this sucked—so badly, possibly worse than being cheated on with a man, really. "relax, you're good, don't worry about it. you're cute," megan coaxes, her voice reassuring and dulcet, as she watches you melt into the ground.

barely a few words in, and you're basically wrapped around her finger.

she shakes her head in a frenzy realizing that your clothes were still stained, "shit, i should help you clean it, right? least i could do." her hand curls around your wrist, "c'mon, show me where your bathroom is." your eyes droop down to glance at the stains on your top, mumbling under your breath, "yeah, yeah, sure."

you bite the inside of your cheek, as yunjin's words previously flicker in your mind, but you nonetheless lead the ginger-headed girl to your bathroom, weaving through the maze of the crowd. she snorts, "wow do you have quite the crowd," her gaze fixating on your friends, specifically, doing kegstands, earning a chuckle from you.

you tilt your head, referring to your friends, "they're just… like that way," and you shrug, pulling your bathroom door handle open. you beckon megan to follow suit, biting the inside of your cheek, as you click the door locked. you smooth your hair down before propping yourself up on the counter, your face sporting a gentle smile.

"you go to school here?" she asks, as she shuffles to grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol from your cabinets, smiling. you nod your head, dangling your legs above the floor, as the edm music outside the bathroom blares through. she glances back at your top, giving you a small groan, "i'm sorry, y'know, for spilling your drink on you." she murmurs quietly, her voice tinged with embarrassment, "i know it's your big night and stuff."

you flash a reassuring smile at the girl, meekly shaking your head, "it's okay, don't worry your pretty head 'bout it," you slur, barely registering your own words. heat flares at the tips of megan's ears, as she softly sighs, spinning back around towards you. she couldn't suppress her laughs, chuckling airily at your cluelessness as she tenderly hovers a towel over your top, dabbing it over the stains.

and while megan helps you clean up your stain, she sneaks little glances up at you every few seconds, her smile so tight to her teeth like she was holding back a grin.

"i listened to your record earlier; you're a natural," she coos, trying to lighten the mood. her eyes barely look up, too engrossed in trying to clean the mess she left on you, while your gaze fixates on her lips, your palms plastered against the countertop. the girl drew soft patterns with the cloth over your top, humming under your breath, and absorbing part of the stain.

"really, you think so?" you ask, your eyes glimmering, "i wrote most of them on my couch and with my guitar." you shift yourself closer to megan, trying to make it easier for her. the spinning in your head continues at her words, and the butterflies begin to swarm your stomach—the sincerity laced in her words only served to make it even worse.

her eyes dart up, biting her lower lip, "cute—i take it you used that hello-kitty guitar from earlier?" she wears an easy, half-lidded grin at the way you struggled to form the right words; she wasn't piss-drunk unlike you, who was practically watching everything blur and mold together, your mind hazy. your shoulders relax, as you nod, speaking up, "that same one, yes."

"and… there we go," megan drawls, her eyes flashing up back to yours, dropping the towel into the sink, and drying it off, "you are good to go." she whispers, giving you the cue to slide off the counter, and to face her. your hands find their way to your belt loops, as your eyes trace her figure, silence falling between the two of you.

"thanks," you stammer out, your cheeks and ears flushed, "for the help, and the compliments." you say, despite a little awkward, your tone was gentle and sincere, making her heart flutter and almost leap out of her chest. she shakes her head before dismissing it quickly.

"here wait, how about i take you for coffee this week? consider that a real apology for the stain," megan suggests, as she quickly slips out her lipstick. your eyebrows furrow, as she twists the cap off, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. the lipstick leaves a trail of marks onto some crumpled napkin on the counter, gliding across it, as she scribbles things down hurriedly. an ear-to-ear grin stretches her lips, as warmth spreads to your cheeks, her hand smacking the napkin onto your chest. exhaling, she drawls, her voice smooth and calm:

"text me when you're not busy."

PREV.　MASTERLIST.　NEXT.

A/N. :3 first written chap we are so 🆙🆙

𝓽aglist (open) , comment to be added !! :

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[baepsays]

Suck it and See ⸻ how you met stoner Suguru.

description: of all places, Geto Suguru didn't expect to meet a girl with knee high socks, who practically pulled him in like an eager sacrifice to the Siren— at a frat party surrounded by smoke.

cw: use of she/her pronouns, fem oriented reader, mentions of drugs, weed, and alcohol; nothing much this is mostly a meet cute-ish, lore stuff really, artic monkeys references everywhere, they mild nsfw stuff.

playlist inspired by the content.

What a pleasure it is to be surrounded by sweaty people you barely know in a room full of smoke. All because your best friend is an extroverted social butterfly of a freak.

Safe to say, Geto Suguru would be anywhere but here right now. But maybe he does need some free alcohol and free cigarettes, a finance degree is the furthest thing from causation of sobriety. And as an average university student reliant on caffeine, alcohol, and cigarettes—completing his last semester and starting his big-time finance bro job later this year might I add—he is oddly conservative when it comes to weed though, if we're talking about ways to numb yourself.

The fact he has seen people actually do much worse actual hard drugs and yet he has a bigger opinion about the devil's lettuce of all things available out there. The only viable reason which can be given is that he had a stoner roommate during his first semester and it was the worst time of his entire university life. And honestly, he has seen Gojo get high for the sake of trying it, that was not fun for anyone but Shoko who was filming Suguru trying to stop Gojo from jumping off the balcony to chase a cat he apparently saw (there was no cat).

But these are excuses really. Well, Geto Suguru would not say he is repulsed by weed. In fact, he has tried it himself once. It was mostly about going along with his high school debate team who wanted to get high during one of their out-of-town tournaments. And guess what. High Suguru went on and blurted out all his little animosities to big grudges against everyone there and somehow fell asleep next to a trashcan in the hallway. Thankfully no one remembered and the video footage of all of this happening went into his hands first. He made sure to delete everything and ask around without being suspicious if anyone remembered anything he said. He was safe since they all forgot about everything.

Since then, he has steered clear of weed, it does odd things to him which no other substances do. Even when he is drunk out of his mind or buzzing with caffeine and nicotine, he is never impulsive. He always has control. And the fact he let that control slip is very scary. Matter of fact, despite his side hobby of making fun of a scared Gojo during horror movie marathons, Suguru himself didn't like being scared by something unknown or letting himself slip out in front of someone he would rather not have seen him like that .

Yet here he was, at one of the more famous frats who are known for their weed more than their alcohol and what not. I mean, it's not about where you end up but what you're looking for, right? Maybe that doesn't make much sense but so doesn't his last assignment of the semester before exams start, which carries 40% of his marks.

And for someone who isn't looking for weed, his amazing friend makes sure to pull him right into the room full of—who apparently seemed to be—stoners. Supposedly Satoru knows someone there, but he also knows way too many people for his liking. The amount of time he has to stop, stand, and stare around to wait for Satoru to finish chatting with yet another stranger—infinite really.

Regrets of ending up in that room without any alcohol in his hand, seemed to have flown right out of the room with the smoke. And it might as well have been the residual of weed in the air, but what's happening in his head was alarming. Right across from the person Satoru apparently knew, sat this gorgeous being, looking ever so effervescent and oozing mystique surrounded by clouds of smoke (he is a poet everyone). Wearing, what in his mind seemed like, the most poorly constructed skirt, practically giving away the secret eighth wonder of the world—which are those thighs. And is that fishnet? Someone please check on him, is he having a nosebleed? If not, that tight top perfectly snug around your chest, might do the job. More over the breasts, it was the neck. How can someone find a neck that beautiful? I wouldn't know, ask Suguru.

Real question is who wears knee high socks in the summer? He is not complaining, it somehow really works for you, and it works wonders on him. Again, it might be the weed. It has to be, because Geto Suguru, who is the most calculated person you'll know—sly little shit who is known for being the level headed, mysterious, lady's man— he may be just as much of a menace as Gojo and just as silly, he just knows how to mask it. And he's losing it. He's losing that control, because why aren't his ears working? His eyes refuse to focus on anything but you dragging a smoke out of the joint, which was passed to you by someone. And his legs are moving on their own towards the couch where you are sitting with the only person who you seem remotely interested in, 'might be her friend' he assumes, while ignoring this other guy who seems to be high off his mind talking about who knows what. His ears already made the effort of blocking out every sound, including Gojo's, who was calling him out because he wanted to introduce Suguru to his friend.

"Hey"

Real smooth from Mr. Lady's man over here. Incredible opener to introduce yourself to this person who may or may not be a witch cause why is he completely under this sort of trance as if he is the one sucking on that joint. Also, the fact he is just awkwardly standing in front of you while you look up at him through your lashes, unbothered and definitely high, still sitting on that couch—he must've inhaled too much weed smoke.

"Did you mean to say that to me? Because I think your friend needs you over there actually."

You say after blinking at him twice, then point across to you where Gojo and his friend are sitting. It's rather a given to be confused by this random long-haired Rapunzel to awkwardly stand before you like he doesn't know any better about how to interact socially, he's not drunk definitely, you saw him and his friend stroll in through the doors just a few minutes ago. Why would you even bother to care enough to remember that? Well, Rapunzel here is too gorgeous for his own good, secondly, you're high and feeling rather needy.

Pre-finals week suck, universal sentiment shared by all degree pursuing students. So here you are on this couch, in some frat, with your friend who's seeing one of the frat members. All you expected was some good quality rich boy weed and alcohol, nothing more really. Sleeping with someone you met at a frat party, reeks of STDs. And yet here you are looking at this gorgeous man looking like he doesn't have any thoughts behind his eyes, contrary to what you assumed, from afar he looked like a manipulative man whore. The world might be full of surprises or he's a theatre major.

"Huh?" — is all Suguru somehow manages to utter, it's illegal to smell that good while also smelling like weed, what god forsaken perfume you're using? Those eyes are enough, why do you need to crawl through all his five senses and wrap your hands around his brain.

"Huh." You say with one raised eyebrow. Seems like you've found yourself an excuse to escape.

"Seems like you don't know anything other than three lettered words starting with h."

He just stares into your eyes and lets you throw that jab at him. Really just too enchanted to speak, it's not that this is something he's choosing to do. He'd rather sit across from you and socialize with Gojo, while staring you down from time to time, then after much considerable eye contact, he'll slide himself to your side of the couch, asking your permission to have a seat, with much charisma no one can deny.

Yet here he is, not drunk, or losing his mind with weed—purely high off of sucking in your presence. This is only the second time he has lost control over a situation, and this time he is completely sober. New discoveries are made every second he supposed. Because if a sly talker like him, one who especially finds existential joy in countering the opposing person's jabs, is standing here tongue tied—he believes climate change can be reversed then. (How wishful)

You get off the couch to stand facing him, way too close to him for his sanity's sake, between the narrow gap between him and the couch—you might be shorter than him but your gaze is too piercing. And yet he cannot look away.

"Would you rather I dragged you out of this room? Maybe the smoke is getting to your head huh?"

Takes a second for Suguru to contextualize what you just suggested. And without any power to verbally respond, he simply nods into agreement. Somehow in that moment his incognizant brain decided that maybe leaving himself to your devices in this situation is the most natural thing to do. In fact, you might as well have all consumed him and he couldn't care any less.

All he cares about is that you're taking his hands in your hands, which made him think it might be a missing puzzle piece that only fits in perfectly with his, and dragging him out after a little bye to your friend and Gojo as well. Suguru is really out of it. He's not going to hear the end of it from Gojo, while he retells this story to their friends in the most overexaggerated way, which is so impossible given how ridiculous he is acting right now. Anything less dramatic than a Shakespearean play wouldn't do justice to exactly what played out in there. Yet Gojo Satoru will make sure to put a shame to Shakespeare's dramatics. That's his headache for later, let's focus on the ache in his palpitating heart.

You drag him out of that room, into the big living room or space and then drag him through the crowd to one of the rooms on the first floor, and take him straight to the balcony attached to it. The balcony sits right above the pool. Below you two, you can see most people congregating around there, swimming or just dancing or talking. Most of the speakers are there playing every frat bro's Spotify rotation probably. It's dark enough and tucked away nicely for anyone to notice you two there even if they look up—you saw this balcony the first time you visited this house with your friend cause of the guy she was seeing and since it was not a party, it was clear in the daylight that it was a nice place to people watch from. Or just enjoy the music,

'And her lips are like the galaxy's edge

And her kiss the colour of a constellation fallin’ into place'

Suguru couldn't agree more. If he didn't know any better— he'd say the song was about you. Because right now he is pulling out the lighter out of his pockets. Moving it towards your direction and halting halfway in the little space in between you two. Suguru wouldn't write this out as some kind gesture. He would never even think of sharing his prized lighter. It has been with him since he found it one day visiting his grandma's village home with his parents. Lying in a puddle of mud near the river that flowed behind her house. Scratch random people he wouldn't even let Satoru touch it or let Shoko take a light with it. Yet here he is— silently helping you out all because it looked like with the roll of a joint tucked in your bra, you forgot to bring a light.

You stare back and forth between the burning flame and his face. Contemplating perhaps. Then you move forward grab a hold on his hand, which was holding up the lighter, just a bit far for you to easily lean in and ignite the blunt. So you move, move to now sit face to face with him, both your knees on either side of his thighs—hovering over him, hands holding his, which was holding his silver lit up lighter. You lean forward probably closer to his face than the lighter even, all while keeping constant eye contact. You move your head to your left and finally burn the joint pressed in between your lips, after what seemed like an eternity.

Once the smoke comes out, you unwrap your lips from the joint and smile at Suguru, not one of those half smiles you've been throwing at him all this time. A genuine laidback smile.

"Thanks uh- oh wait I don't even know your name"

"Well I haven't given it to you yet."

"You gave me your lighter, might as well give me your heart. How much more could your name matter?"

Well he might as well have given you his heart and what even is in the name, if he could he would give you the entirety of the galaxy, but It would probably fade out in your comparison.

"Suguru. Geto Suguru."

"Nice to meet you Suguru."

"And what more might you need other than my lighter, heart, and name in exchange for your name?"

"I don't know? Anything tempting you are offering? Perhaps a seat right here?"

Did you mean right there? There on his lap?

"I wouldn't ever deny you anything."

So you did in fact mean his lap. Cause you perch right up on there and drag a long smoke out of your joint, blowing the smoke up in the sky above you two.

"L/n Y/n. And I'll hold you onto that claim."

"Do you always ask people for names in exchange for a seat on their lap?" Suguru smirks and tries to regain some confidence and control over the situation. If he wants to keep you right where you are, he would need to get out of the haze of intoxication — which was ironically not the weed in the air but just your existence.

"I never really ask for names. Really bad at remembering them. And as for seats, hmm I don't know. Your legs looked more comfortable and warm than the cold floor. And you looked sweet."

"Sweet?"

"Why? Does that not describe your —chase Atlantic and Artic Monkeys, cigarette smoker, fuck weed i am better than that, only dark colors— aesthetic?"

"How did you know I don't like weed?"

"Made a face right as you walked into the room down there. Also anyone else would've asked to borrow this by now." You move the blunt in between your fingers slightly to signify what you're talking about.

"Does that not bother you?"

"I mean it doesn't bother you that I am smoking this right in your face, if you had said something I would've respected that as well. I don't really care what you think is the standard for intoxication."

Suguru just smiles. He doesn't really have a topic exactly to speak about. He is in fact not capable of doing much right now you've rid him of the taste of control and the only taste he wants to be acclimated with from this moment onwards is yours. And he doesn't care about this change. He knows your name, he knows the feel of your fishnets against your skin. He knows the material of your lethal skirt. He knows the vanilla and jasmine notes of your perfume. He knows the exact color of your eyes and how many eyelashes you have. And he thinks that is enough.

'You have got that face that just says

"Baby, I was made to break your heart"'

You might as well break his heart, do as you please with it. It burnt away from his grasp the moment you burnt the end of your joint using his lighter.

"Looks like they are more intoxicating than any drug in existence." Was he talking about the blunt? Because his eyes were aimed at your lips. And he was unaware of what he even let slip out of his own lips.

"Suck it and see. You never know." 

Not wasting a second with your unaware confirmation, Suguru moves forward. The hand on your fishnet clad thigh tightens, digging into the supple skin, weaving the fingers with the fishnet itself. The other hand, coming up to your lips, taking out the joint and throwing it out somewhere on the balcony, his fingers first touch your lips with light touches as if one touch is too heavy and you'll disperse into thin air. Slowly the fingers on your lips start pressing down on, well past both of your lips, making an audible gasp leave your mouth involuntarily. His fingers dig around the entrance to your mouth— rubbing your lips, then proceeds to press down on your tongue and graze over your teeth interchangeably. All while staring into your eyes, or staring at you, your eyes might as well be all white or shut close. Anything partially visible, is all a blur. 

And you allow him all of it. You allow him to twist his fingers up to rub his rough finger pads on the along the expanse of your hard palate and soft palate, borderline trying to choke you. You simply allow it. You allow those hands to explore parts of you even out of your own reach. One digging in your mouth, other trying to make itself at home on your thighs—practically memorizing every little stretch mark running along your skin. He wants to know it all, have it all and who are you to deny a starved man? 

When he's had enough of his little exploration, his own pairs of lips come crashing down on you. A sigh of almost a relief, leaves both your lungs. It is not quite relief, it is nice to finally have him kiss you—but his lips are the kind to leave your head dizzy, head swaying, forgetful of the whole process of breathing through your nose while he devours you, eyes flickering like unreliable headlights on the highway. You might as well be crashing out. 

His lips are caging in yours, tongue fencing with yours, hands roaming around you like he's gonna find the most prized treasure on the surface of your skin. Guiding your hips to force down on his lap and roll them into little grids of desperation. Who was exactly the desperate one here? 

At that point it all becomes too overwhelming to have your ability to breath taken away. So you push him off, with no ease. It was as if pushing him and pulling yourself back simply made him hold onto you harder. And when his lips did leave you alone, they go on to chase your lips to find his rightful place back on them.

You put one of your hands on his mouth to halt him, all that does is make you have goosebumps all over your body—having him look up to you with his desperate and hazed mono lids, the purple-brownish shade of his pupils burning you up. And him just heaving in your hand, short of breath, was of no help either. 

“I was talking about the joint.” you breath out with an exasperated sigh.

“Well I am not sorry.” He leaves a feather light kiss on your hand covering his mouth.

“What even are you?” Genuinely, how does a man with gorgeous hair and horrible vocabulary make you fold so easily? 

“‘I am a fool for you.” 

A/N: dividers by @/sister-lucifer & @/omi-resources, header from my own gallery. And I didn't proofread half of this ok IT IS HARD TO READ YOUR OWN WORK

more of stoner!suguru chronicles.

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tag list: @moonlitwitchdaisy @madamechrissy @cuntphoric @fuwagojo @aishi-toru @theorphicangel

if you would like to be added to future possible tag lists, please drop a comment and feel free to send asks! i got a few anon asks about this but unfortunately idk their @'s :(

[searchingforserendipity25]

exorcising my list of unwritten conclave concepts from a few weeks ago i haven't written much since, in case the list is all there ends up coming out of it or anyone wants to welcome any of them into a good home:

cardinal lawrence and sister agnes won each other’s respect and trust during ratzinger’s papacy (liberals who leak church scandals to the justice system and the press stick together). everyone lowkey thinks they are having an affair. they are not, but they do keep sneaking into corners to gossip during the conclave. leaning fully into the reading of sister agnes as the late pope’s intelligence expert. incredibly jaded vatican spy. aldo is not jealous. benitez finds lawrence with the yellow canary eating from his hand and going back to his side after short flights, and has a number of franciscan emotions about it. the whole thing would ideally be about their friendship, different views and thoughts on power, what it looks like, what it ought to look like. responsibility, and doubt. also: how horrible it is the only non smokers in an european workplace.

(does this change anything materially? possibly the adeyemi and trembley situation is revealed much sooner with lawrence and sister agnes working together earlier and sharing intel, which in its turn makes him seem more competent and aggressive in taking down competitors, ergo more votes, ergo more influence? maybe bellini supports him more overtly earlier idk.) 

cardinal lawrence is dead. as a matter of fact, cardinal lawrence has been dead for a few days after the pope dies; unlike the pope, he keeps coming back to do his job. the curia covers up his death, because the dean of the college of cardinals is a ghost who apparently hated his job enough that is it his very literal purgatory is both hard to explain, and bad for the press. the fate of his unliving soul is very much at risk when steering the conclave, which is, uh, fun. cardinal tedesco's vape smoke now strongly smells of sulfur to him, which is probably not satanic in origin but then again might be. people keep voting on him and their belief in him corresponds directly to how much he can interact with the world, which is a very straightforward way to test one’s moral limits and otherwise a great torment. the one silver lining is that he can walk through walls and scoop out corrupt dealing easily, and no one can really tell he is dead. well, barely anyone. cardinal benítez and his ability to walk easily between the liminal spaces and certainties of the world is an outlier, and should not be counted.

dean lawrence keeps getting kidnapped, poisoned, blackmailed and otherwise threatened. this is an unfortunate if occasional part of being the vatican’s manager of two increasingly liberal and unorthodox papacies. it is considerably less fine and unfortunately far too normal for innocent xiv, who has a non-zero number of experiences with friends being kidnapped, poisoned, blackmailed and otherwise threatened. 

bellini/lawrence full on established relationship nonsense. as in, they have been together for thirty years and counting. conclave rewrite?? 

innocent xiv’s phone messages get leaked. innocent xiv’s phone messages consist of selfies with turtles sent to various friends and family, a good deal of memes in the santa marta groupchat, and daily jokes, complaints and affectionate messages to dean lawrence. the media has thoughts. aldo bellini, newly in charge of the papal media strategy, also has thoughts. and prayers.

a glimpse at all the people that Did vote for benítez from the start, and how much his work is or is not known outside the hermetic sphere of the vatican. he's kind of famous in religious activist circle probably! he has fans! he has a wide network of people he regularly approaches for information, resources, mutual aid and donations to his clinics and dioceses! he keeps dropping insane facts about horrifying personal experiences with unnerving serenity!

vincent benítez soft doms cardinal lawrence into taking a rest during the conclave. this incidents turns into a habit and gains new dimensions, as per the forthcoming changes in job status

pope john has an ongoing crisis of faith and also a gigantic imposter's syndrome. unrelatedly, pope john would really really really rather vincent benítez did not die in kabul and/or cause a diplomatic disaster. how convenient, then, that he is now a benevolent religious dictator who can arrange (read: wholesale invent) a number of postings and duties only benítez can accomplish. if anyone ask, this is a long-delayed move on part o the church to develop a deeper connection to on-the-ground aid organization. this can’t possibly last forever, though, can it? 

friar lawrence has shed all politics and chosen an abbey who keeps a vow of silence. friar lawrence is genuinely having a lovely time of things in his little abbey post canon. for like, uh, two months? friar lawrence keeps accidentally gaining more and more influence. manager-guy who cannot not manage. six months in he’s in charge of shelters and social associations. one year on, and he’d be archbishop again, if he were not aggressively trying to clamber down the church hierarchical rung. his friend, innocent xiv, who went from being a non-entity to one of the most famous men in the world, is sympathetic but also thinks this is very very funny. epistolary fic?? email epistolary? there is a little cat in a friar's habit and this is the most important part.

possibly related: cardinal lawrence comes back from his enforced sabbatical in a peaceful retreat freckled, healthier and smiling. people have thoughts on this, and emotions also. 

turtle pov of benitez/lawrence. literally: turtle pov. is the turtle an angel?? unclear if the turtle is an angel.

cardinal tedesco must die au.

[crispycoffeestudent]

'there are more good ones out here than you think' imagine being a radfem, calling yourself a radfem and saying that to another woman. the fact of the matter is - theonceandfutureharpy is right. there's simply not enough 'good men' or 'good ones' for every radfem interested in, or currently in relationships. not enough for all of them to be right. and to copy and paste something i sent to a friend a day ago 'if you're going to date men, you truly need to be able to leave at first sign of trouble however minor that red flag might be but no one who's genuinely in love with someone else will be able to do that. you will at the end of the day once attached, attempt to make excuses for seemingly minor and trivial red flags that all point to a larger problem with the man himself, and even if even if he doesn't turn out to be the societal image of an abuser, he can and often is still abusive. i feel like some women truly believe that the patriarchy is abstract only when it comes to their relationship with men and underestimate how much THEY themselves are affected by it. I feel bad for radfems who date men because ... how much of your time will be spent vetting, how often can you afford to be on the look out, how likely are you to upend an entire relationship of idk however many long years when the cracks finally start to show? how likely are you, when deeply in love w someone, able to leave immediately, no hesitation, when he starts gently wheedling you into sex? for that to be possible, there are limits to how deep your connection w him can be, and i think on some level, they realize this.' and to copy what she said 'Everybody thinks they can leave an abuser, but everybody's just thinking of an abuser. Nobody's thinking of who the abuser is, the role they play in their life, and how they feel about the abuser. And dependence is never accounted for, either. What happens when he has successfully isolated you? Either by turning you against people or by turning people against you. Who are you going to call, who are you going to stay with. What happens when he gets you fired from your job? Now you're financially dependent on him, too, because you have nobody else to go to. How people can get in so deep and still believe they have the upper hand will never cease to amaze me.' being in relationships with men is dangerous and puts you in direct risk of male violence. i don't see how you can acknowledge that men commit 90 percent of violent crime, that anywhere from 27-57 percent of men have perpetuated sexual violence against women (self reported btw), that a study in the 90s found that all male and female relationships it studied was abusive at some level (Graham, Foliano) and witness the rise of pornography, and the sheer number of men addicted to that stuff where sexual violence is in the sexual script of porn itself, willing to defend it with their life, and have the audacity and the fucking NERVE to say that there are more good ones that we think. date the men you like but don't come into radical feminist spaces and LIE to us or derail the conversation when we're talking about how men are the oppressors. It's not luck to find a man genuinely devoid of misogyny or willing always to take accountability and catch himself and call the men around him out when he or they are being misogynistic. It's the fucking lottery. And sorry to say but most of y'alls Jakeys are simply not Like That.

Getting into a straight healthy relationship with a man IS a part of radfem agenda, believe it or not. It means you actually expect the world to listen to your values and ideas and change accordingly. It means those of us who are not gay or bisexual will struggle less, and will be in less danger when seeking companionship. If you prefer separation or black pill it's fine, but it simply cannot apply to everyone - unlike the radical feminist beliefs against sexism.

🦥

[darkredsugarcookie]

"The Pressure of His Lips" - ex!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! Like three (3) people have asked me to start posting fics on here, so here we go. I'm new to posting on tumblr, but I'm a wattpad and ao3 veteran, so be nice. I'm still trying to figure out the formatting and everything for this place :P

Summary: After breaking up due to your secret relationship being brought to the surface, you are not handling the separation well. Too much vodka and lonely nights end with you accidentally Bucky from the bathroom floor.

Warnings: Alcohol use, heavy intoxication, mentions of smoking weed, slight hint at SA history upon the reader, angst, alpine mention!!!! let me know if I missed any!

DISCLAIMER: This is an excerpt from a bigger fic I've been writing in which the self-insert has a history of SA. It is hinted at for one sentence in this specific blurb.

By all means, I should’ve been the one that managed to keep my head above water. Dad hit rock bottom when he was my age— after my grandparents died. He was no stranger to tell me about it. It was always an example of what not to do. Even Mom had her struggles after she lost her brother. 

I had every picture perfect reason to stay away from anything that could drag me down like a weight in still water. Which is why I couldn’t tell you how I ended up at the bottom of a bottle on a Monday night in uptown Manhattan. 

For a long time, I refused to drink more than once in heavy social settings after what happened when I was seventeen. But this? I didn’t care anymore. I needed whatever would keep him and my parents and the team out of my head. 

The problem I was running into, however, was that by the time I was cross-faded in a mass of bodies in a bar uptown, he was the only thing I had the ability to think about. 

Everything I wouldn’t confront during the day when I was sober chased me down until I was curled up in the corner of a bathroom stall. 

The smell of weed clouded my senses as the cold tile floor hit the backs of my thighs. The vodka still on my tongue made me dizzy and I could feel my heart beating like a drum in my head.

Every memory axed its way into my head like a migraine I couldn’t shake. I could spend every night like this, I could dance with strangers I didn’t care about, I could swear off men to my best friend and demand that I was completely fine, but I would always end up like this. Thinking about how I could still feel the pressure of his lips on my skin and if I tried hard enough, the temperature of the bathroom tiles almost felt like that of his arm under my fingers whenever we were curled up together. 

I couldn’t keep a straight thought. It all flashed through my head in images I couldn’t shake. 

My phone was vibrating. 

I fumbled for it, where it was tucked into the front of my dress, and I didn’t even check who was calling when I  tapped the screen and held it to my ear. I sniffled, wiping my nose. My cheeks were wet. 

I was crying. That seemed to be pretty normal for me these days. 

“Hello?” 

I blinked. Great, now I was hallucinating voices. I’d never reached that point of being wasted. “Nat,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I probably just ruined my makeup already. “What’s up?” I did my best to sound sober. Probably didn’t work.

There was a heavy sigh. “You didn’t mean to call me,” he said. 

“You called me,” I replied. 

“No, I did not. Are you… Are you okay?” 

“I am fine,” I said. “I’m not… supposed to talk to you.” “I know, angel.” Another sigh, a shuffle of something. Maybe blankets. It couldn’t have been that late. 

“Are you sleeping?”

“It’s almost four in the morning.”

My head was pounding, swimming… I couldn’t quite breathe right. “You don’t really sleep…”

“No, I don’t. Less now. Where are you?” 

“Why?” I felt defensive all of a sudden. No matter the fact I didn’t think I could get up off this floor if the building was on fire. 

“Because you’re drunk, sweetheart. And you’re alone. It’s not safe.”

“You don’t know that I’m- if I’m alone.”

A brief pause. “Yes, I do. Do you know where you are?” 

I was picking at a loose thread on the hem of my dress. “I’m…” I squeezed my eyes shut. That string wrapped around my finger twice. “I’m in the bathroom.”

“Okay, hold on—” I heard a door shut. It was quiet for a second. “I know where you are. You stay in the bathroom, okay? I’ll come get you.”

“But you—”

“No, you stay where you are.” I shrank a little. “Hear me?” 

“Yeah…” “Good. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I think I fell asleep after that, because the next thing I remember was hearing a commotion of voices— only one of which I recognized. 

Then it got so bright as the stall door was pushed open and I swear it felt like my heart that had dropped dead almost a month ago was beating again. 

Bucky’s face was a mix of emotions as he touched my cheek. “Sweetheart…” He said, letting out a breath. 

“Why are you here?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and see clearly. If he was here, I wanted to feel it, see it. All of it. 

“I’m here for you, doll.”

“But you hate me.”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “No, I don’t, baby. I don’t hate you. But we need to get you home, come on.”

Without waiting for me to say anything, he lifted me to my feet. “Where are your shoes?” he asked. I just shrugged. 

As I limped my way to the bathroom exit, one of the other girls stopped him, demanding that he either explain how he knew me, or set me down. If I was sober, I might have hugged her for that. “He’s…” I started. 

She cast a worried glance from me, to the man holding me up. Bucky sighed and pulled out his phone, showing her the screen. “She’s mine, promise.” I barely caught a glimpse of the wallpaper. It was a picture Avery had taken of us when we were in Atlanta, we were in the kitchen, not even aware she was watching. 

Once we were past the crowds, he shoved the door open and helped me outside. The chilly air shocked me a little back into my senses, but not much. 

He pulled the car door open and helped me into the passenger seat before rounding the hood and climbing in. “I feel like lecturing you on how dangerous this is might be pointless because I don’t think you’re gonna remember any of it.”

I sniffled, wiping my cheeks. “I thought I was… fine.” “I’m sure you did,” he said, pulling onto the street. “Avery would have a heart attack if she knew about this, you know?” 

“Yeah… It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. “This isn’t like you.”

“Sure it is,” I replied as I looked out the window. “It’s in my genes.” Bucky glanced at me, but didn’t say anything. When we pulled up outside my apartment building, I paused. “How do you—”

“I had a feeling something like this would happen. I got it from Nat.” 

“She gave it to you?” 

“I had to ask. Beg, actually.”

“That isn’t like you,” I said, quoting his own words. He cast me that same look he always gave me when I said something annoying, but valid. I smiled a little, tipping my head against the headrest of the car as I watched him climb out. 

When he got to my side and pulled the door open, he didn’t give me an option. Next thing I knew, he was scooping me into his arms and I didn’t have it in me to fight. I leaned closer, letting my body relax for the first time in weeks. I could scold myself for this in the morning. 

“What’s the door code?” he asked me. 

“My birthday,” I replied in more of a mumble than anything. “It’s—”

“I know your birthday, angel.” 

I sighed and nodded as we stepped into the warmth of the lobby. I didn’t question him as he held me the whole way to my apartment, his fingers occasionally brushing against my body as if it was muscle memory. 

He pressed the same code into my door keypad and shoved the door open. 

“Don’t let the cat out,” I muttered. 

“The what— Oh my god.” I heard my little white kitten meow up at him. “That’s Snowball,” I said. “Or Alpine. I can’t choose.”

He sighed, a small smile on his face. “I like Alpine.”

Bucky carried me to the master bedroom and set me on the bed. I rubbed my eyes, the ache behind them starting to grow. He disappeared for a second and when he came back, he put a glass of water in my hand. “Drink this,” he said, setting my shoes in my closet. I wondered briefly where he found them before he returned from the closet with the Avengers Compound sweatshirt that used to be his, but I had reclaimed. “You can’t sleep in that dress,” he said. “Or that makeup.” 

“I’ll be fine—” I started. 

“No. You’re gonna change. I’ll give you a—”

“I can’t get the zipper myself,” I said quietly. “It’s not- It’s not a ploy… Promise.” 

He helped me to my feet and turned me around before tugging at the zipper. I felt the air hit my back a second before his hand landed at my waist. “Are you gonna remember anything from tonight?” 

“I hope so,” I said softly. Other words for definitely not. 

Bucky sighed and dropped his head to my shoulder. “I miss you,” he breathed, lips brushing against my skin. “More than I’ve ever missed anyone.” 

A pain lodged itself in my chest. It was so deep that in this moment I genuinely didn’t think it’d ever leave me. And if it did, it might just leave a hole where it sat. “Bucky…” 

“Get changed. I’ll be right back.”

When I felt his body heat disappear from me, I dropped my dress to the ground and tugged on the sweatshirt he’d set on the bed. I didn’t bother with shorts, just left my underwear on. 

I dropped onto the edge of the bed, finished my water, held my hands in my lap. 

Bucky came from the bathroom and clicked on the lamp beside my bed. He took my face in his hand and with the warm rag in his hand, wiped it gently along my face. “Close your eyes,” he said softly. 

I did as I was told. It wasn’t as in depth as I could’ve myself, but it was enough to keep my eyes from hurting in the morning.

He tossed the rag in the hamper and guided me into bed. “You need to sleep,” he said softly. 

“I’m not used to sleeping alone,” I mumbled against my pillow. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he replied, fingers combing through my hair. “Me either. But you’re gonna be okay.” 

I felt exhaustion coming for me like a thief in the night. “You think so?” 

“I know so. Sleep, baby.” 

A breath escaped me. I didn’t have the energy to speak anymore.

As sleep pulled me away, I felt his kiss against my head. Then the light clicked off and it was gone like a dream. 

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Plastic Surgery

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✯ pairing:  Franco Colapito x GF! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: plastic surgery mentioned✯

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Dating someone so public and admired was definitely an experience. There was a reason she wanted to keep it private, but the media found out much earlier than they had planned. One day, as he was picking her up from college, someone snapped a photo, and just like that, everyone knew.

The scrutiny was as brutal as she had expected—people dissecting every piece of information they could find online. Perhaps more hurtful, though, were the comments about her appearance. Any perceived flaw was pointed out by countless strangers. Of course, not every comment was critical, but who pays attention to the kind ones anyway?

That only aggravated her already fragile self-esteem, leaving her even more self-conscious about her appearance. She began obsessively refining her makeup, perfecting her hair, and scrutinizing every detail of her looks. But no matter how much effort she put into superficial improvements, it never felt like enough—enough to stop the criticism, enough to silence the noise.

Inevitably, her thoughts turned to a single conclusion: the only reasonable path was cosmetic surgery, wasn’t it?

Franco drove down the road with ease, the afternoon sun painting golden streaks across the dashboard. She sat beside him, phone in hand, her thumb scrolling incessantly. Her brows were furrowed, lips pressed together in that way that meant she was deep in thought—or trouble.

He glanced over as they slowed for a red light, his curiosity piqued. “You know,” he teased, his accent wrapping around the words, “you look way too serious for someone who just got out of class. What’s going on, amor?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, a little too quickly, tilting her phone away from him like a guilty teenager.

Franco smirked, his instincts kicking in. “Oh, come on. ‘Nothing’ with that face? Let me see,” he teased, leaning slightly to sneak a look.

“Franco, watch the road!” she protested, locking her phone and shoving it into her lap, but not before he caught a glimpse of the open webpage.

His smile faltered as the word “cosmetic surgery” registered. His playful demeanor softened, replaced by quiet concern. At the next stoplight, he turned to her, his voice gentle. “Amor... what’s that about?”

“It’s nothing,” she repeated, her gaze fixed firmly out the window.

“Really?” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “Because it looked a lot like ‘I think I need surgery dot com.’”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her fingers twisting in her lap.

Franco’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he let out a small sigh. “Is this about the comments?”

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed.

“Dios mío,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Amor, why do you even read that stuff? Those people—they’re bored, miserable, and lack a life.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, but he caught the tiniest twitch of her lips.

“I’m serious!” he continued, his voice animated now, trying to coax a smile out of her. “You think someone with their life together is online talking about you? No. They’re too busy living. The ones who leave those comments? They’re jealous. Of your talent, your looks, and—” he grinned, throwing her a quick, cheeky look—“the fact that you get to date me.”

She couldn’t help it; a small laugh escaped, though she quickly stifled it. 

“I’ll take that laugh as an agreement” he said, triumphant. “So why are you letting ridiculous people get to you?”

Her smile faded, replaced by a vulnerable look she rarely showed. “It’s not just them, Franco. It’s... everything. I just... I don’t feel good enough.”

He softened immediately, his teasing giving way to something more sincere. “Amor,” he said, reaching over to rest his hand on hers. “You don’t need surgery. You don’t need to change anything. Not for them, not for anyone.”

She looked at him, her eyes doubtful. “You really think that?”

“I know that,” he said firmly. Then, in true his fashion, he couldn’t resist adding, “But if you’re still not convinced, I could always pull up other fan pages. The comments about my hair after races alone will make you feel like a queen.”

That earned him a real chuckle.

“See? Much better,” he said with a grin. “No more websites like that, okay?”

She nodded, her heart lighter, and when his fingers gave hers a reassuring squeeze, she squeezed back.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: English is not my first language, and I hope you liked it <3

[lukas-broken-bow]

Why is your name that?

Mine is this because when I first started tumblr I was hyperfixating on an OC called Oscar who got kidnapped by an evil doctor/ringmaster. (He was called Valentine which was ironic because Saint Valentine was a doctor who was a beloved figure and all of the people Dr. Valentine kidnapped to be in his show hated him. But also because he’s aroace and loves all his victims like pets but he’s namesakes with a holiday about non platonic love.) Valentine would do a thing where- You know how some taxidermists will make mythical creatures out of several different animal species’ parts? He would do that with living things. He would use surgeries and chemicals to combine living creatures together to make monsters for his show. There was also a carnival that he also owned that traveled with the circus/was part of it. And in that carnival was a “zoo” thing for artificial monsters who refused to perform. Like Oscar. So Valentine turned Oscar into a have snake. (Like the shape a mermaid is, but with a snake instead of a fish.) Valentine has chemicals that can make things grow more than they should to fit whatever creatures they’re supposed to be attached to. So he did that with the snake and mixed up it’s organs so that it’s brain could go in in its back somewhere and be connected up to Oscar’s brain so that they could communicate mentally. Now Valentine put the snake’s fangs, tongue, and vocal cords into Oscar’s mouth and throat (so now he can’t talk and he’s venomous.) But you understand. It’s still the snake’s brain controlling all the snake parts. And the snake would have conflict with Oscar at first. But then they would slowly meld into one consciousness because they can both feel each other’s physical sensations and emotions and they’re aware of all of each other’s thoughts, so like. Intuitively, I felt like they would stop being able to tell the difference eventually and just become different facets of the same person.

Anyway, Oscar really, really likes plants. He’s a gardener professionally and on his own because he grows a lot of his own food. (Made his own rain catching irrigation system.) So Valentine offered him a bunch of options for a new name. “Oscar” simply isn’t exotic or snakelike enough. And while Oscar wasn’t going to respond to anything other than his real name, Valentine was going to name tag him with whatever he chose, so it did actually matter. There was one single option for a new name that was anything related to a plant. He decided he would choose that one out of. I guess it was some sort of tie to what he used to do? The name was Basil. Oscar thinks of it as the snake’s name.

So Basil the snaking thing. Now I think I would rename myself “Parsley the Crow” since that’s more accurate to me, but everyone knows me as this and I have friends and branding to keep up with.

(Oscar eventually managed to grow a bunch of plants in his cage as an act of rebellion. Mostly ferns.)

okay, first of all, that lore is FIRE. second, branding is very important so good on you for maintaining your brand.

now, regarding myself, I am, as has been proven, a nerd. I am such a nerd, in fact, that my favourite band of all time is 2CELLOS, a cello duo comprised of Luka Šulić and Stjepan Hauser that has since broken up. I grew up OBSESSED with their music (I used to beg my mother to watch their music videos every day). they basically designed my pop culture taste. I got into AC/DC because 2CELLOS covered Thunderstruck. they covered the Pirates of the Caribbean theme, so I watched the films. I became interested in time travel (now a dear obsession) because one of their music videos involved them doing rocking cello solos in the Georgian era, and I began hc-ing that they travelled back in time to do it (this was when I was maybe nine). I loved them SO MUCH (still do, but now I also have other interests music-wise and pop culture-wise).

when I was around twelve or thirteen years old, I finally got the chance to go to one of their concerts; my grandparents were in town for my birthday, and as a gift, they bought me tickets to the 2CELLOS tour. at that point, I had just gotten into the internet and didn’t really have a brand or a consistent url, and I didn’t know what I wanted it to be. and then, at the concert (which was AMAZING), Luka played the cello so hard his bow broke. the coolest thing my tiny child self had ever seen.

that was the moment I forever became Luka’s Broken Bow.

funnily enough, for my birthday this year, I got tickets to go see Luka solo in concert in April. who knows, maybe he’ll break his bow again.

[vroomvroomwee]

There's plenty of radiostatic tropes of these two batshit insane sadomasochistic psychopaths torturing each other for fun, but I would die for a fanfic where Vox is down bad for Alastor and is purposefully trying to appeal to Alastor's bloodlust because he thinks that's what he would be interested in - and besides Vox is definitely going to enjoy it either way, except Alastor never once shows any willingness to torture him and it drives Vox absolutely bonkers.

Imagine Vox, head over heels for a cannibal serial killer, very deeply besotted with him as he tries to play into his sadism because he thinks that's what Alastor would like, because he thinks that's the shit that he would be into during sex, but Alastor is torturing everyone BUT Vox. So, Vox starts to annoy him, to needle him, to poke and prod to intentionally rile Alastor's ire in the hope that he gets Alastor's attention. Except Alastor never becomes violent with him, no matter how aggravating Vox becomes. He gets irritated, yes, even fuming at times, but he never gets violent.

Like we've seen how Alastor acts with people he cares about, how careful he is with them, and dare I say, even gentle. We know how his attitude towards people he loves differentiates to his attitude towards people he detests. And we know his opinion on inflicting violence on a loved one and how despicable it is. And I'm just imagining Vox being completely clueless as to why Alastor doesn't want to hurt him because he has no idea that the approach he's taking to seduce Alastor is as far from accurate as it could get. Because he grossly underestimates how much Alastor cares about him. He has no idea that Alastor's disinclination to match his "romantic" proposals isn't due to disinterest, but due to too much fondness.

So, I'm just picturing Vox confronting Alastor about this, about how Alastor thinks so lowly of him that even broadcasting Vox's screams isn't worth his time. And Alastor is dumbfounded. He simply stares at Vox, wordless. Then, he feels something boiling in him, something caustic, something wounded at the fact that Vox not only thinks him so shallow and brutish, but that he wants Alastor’s violence. He agrees to give Vox what he wants because the opposite is to admit he doesn't care about Vox at all, which would be the last option in Alastor’s mind. He doesn't necessarily participate himself, but his attitude, force, scornful words, and powers give Vox the satisfaction he craves from him. He hurts him, he humiliates him, he fucks him, and he hates every second of it and he doesn't know how to feel about the fact that Vox enjoys all of it. His distaste is plain, from his stiff, crumpled expression, from his tense lour, from his reclined body language.

And Vox notices.

He notices and his entire perception of this fearsome, terrifying Overlord warps before his very eyes. It's Vox who ultimately stops it, despite having longed for Alastor’s cruelty and attention for so long because he doesn't want it this way. He doesn't want it if Alastor doesn't. He would never forget the scalding stone that drops in his stomach at the image of Alastor’s expression slumping in relief when Vox asks him to stop. He can feel his own face falling in dismay as the quiet around them infuses the taut air. He can viscerally feel Alastor’s plight and the reality of what he had accused him of and later weaponized his quilt to fulfil his own fantasies congeals the very blood in his veins. No words come to his mind, no questions that he doesn't know the answer to grace his tongue. He finally understands. He finally realizes how Alastor sees him. So what does he do next?

He shuffles closer to Alastor and slowly, carefully wraps him in an embrace. Blood is dripping down his form. His body is flushed and heated, but Alastor doesn't seem to mind. On the contrary, after a few painfully tense seconds, Alastor returns the embrace with equal guilt weighing him down. Vox doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. The feeling of Alastor’s rigid muscles, the slight trembling in his fingers, and the quick, shallow breaths tell him everything he needs to know about the demon's current state.

"I'm sorry..." tumbles out of his lips, shy and shaky, his voice hoarse from screaming. He's apologetic, he's regretful, he's almost livid at his own inconsideration and blindness.

Alastor clutches him tighter as he reassures "I believe I'm the one who should be apologising."

Vox shakes his head, his thumbs kneading gentle circles in Alastor’s back. "No. I asked you to do this. I asked you because I thought it was something we both wanted."

"I know," Alastor whispers, and his tone is almost rueful. "But, it's not. It's not something I ever want to do... to you."

This is the moment when Vox's entire world flips. That last, deafening word spoken from Alastor with such care and devotion sends a wave of realisation so tumultuous it crashes into every withered inch of his fraying conscience. A wave of realisation that Alastor didn't indulge himself by hurting Vox because he thought him inferior, but because he thought so highly of him no sinner or Overlord that had succumbed to his violence could ever reach.

Something settles in Vox. A thorny, unforgiving forest giving way to gentle sunbeams filtering through newly revitalised treetops. He tightens his hold, his shattered screen burying in the crook of Alastor’s neck. The feel of Alastor’s smooth coat underneath his bare, bloodied body causes him to buzz like a swarm of bees under his skin. The vulnerability of the moment, shrouded behind a veil of sorrow, hurt, grief, affection, care, and love is more delightful than he could have ever imagined.

Alastor’s soft, warm breath tickles Vox's neck as he exhales. The silence wasn't the pervasive, uncomfortable one from before, but rather a soothing, soporific cadence unable to be heard by human ears.

Vox's eyes droop lower when he feels Alastor suddenly, softly brush his lips against his neck. A pleased moan escapes him as the demon begins to lay gentle kisses in a small, irresistible trail on his skin.

He wordlessly tilts his head, allowing Alastor better access. Alastor obliges, shifting their positions to better accommodate them. He gently nips at the flesh, his teeth occasionally grazing and biting, his lips kissing and sucking with reverential eagerness. After a while, Vox's neck tingles like warm needles, and he feels his arousal growing again.

Alastor’s arms stroke Vox's sides, the motion absentminded, as though he was drinking in every inch of contact. Vox lifts his hand and tenderly cups the back of Alastor’s head with it, encouraging him.

Alastor’s breath skittles over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The demon briefly tightens his hold as he finally raises his head. He doesn't look at Vox, his eyes are closed and his chest is rising and falling deeply. Vox's hand slides to cradle Alastor’s face, his own gaze equally as plaintive, and he feels the bed nearly swallow him whole when Alastor slumps into his hold.

Their foreheads touch, their bodies naturally intertwine. An exhilarated gasp shudders out of Vox, his own mind having difficulty comprehending the delightful reality he is currently living. His body moves on its own accord and he places a gentle yet riveting kiss on Alastor's temple.

"Oh, baby..." he presses their foreheads together again and closes his eyes. "Is this what you want?" he asks softly.

Alastor nods imperceptibly.

...

Then they proceed to have gentle loving sex and I'm gonna stop right here because I have no idea what happened shsgsh. I initially started off writing my one-paragraph idea of crazy Alastor who loves torturing others but would rather bash his head in than hurt the people that actually matter to him and manipulative self-obsessed horny in love Vox has to learn that the hard way before it spiralled into old man fluffy foreplay lmfaooooo

I love toxic, manipulative, evil radiostatic as much as the next person, but soft and tender radiostatic has a special place in my heart.

[weneeya]

don't like you m.list | rules

pairing. dr ratio x reader

note. i'm finally falling in honkai star rail so be prepared to see characters from there quite a lot from now on (and i'm not even sorry about it)

Working with no one else than Dr Veritas Ratio was really a pain in the ass. It might have been a lot of people’s dream to be able to work with someone as intelligent as him, but it was surely not yours. In fact, you would have preferred doing this with absolutely anyone else other than him. The explanation was easy : you could not stand that man. He was arrogant and always called other people stupid. He had no respect for them, so you did not have any for him or his work. 

You had no choice though, working with him was not your own decision and you could not discuss it no matter how much you wanted to. This is how you ended up sitting in a library with Veritas in front of you, speaking over and over, again and again, without ever closing his mouth. A sigh left your lips, and you met his eyes. 

“Do you shut your damn mouth sometimes?” You asked him bluntly, and he looked at you in disbelief for a second ; before his expression was quickly replaced with a frown. “And do you have some respect for people sometimes?” You suddenly straighten your back at his words. 

You thought about a million things to answer his stupid remark, but you decided to be more mature than him this time and not to reply to him. You shook your hand slowly, monitoring him to keep going in his never ending monologue. After some time, you began to listen again to what he was talking about. 

No matter how hard you despised him, you could never deny the genius he was. His brain was working a thousand times faster than anyone else, and you could only agree to what he was saying. Except right now, because you had something else to propose as an idea. 

You raised your finger, and it made him stop speaking for a moment. Aeons, it really was great when he stopped. You cleared your throat, looking at him with a light grin on your lips. Oh, he did not like that. 

“That’s a good point, I admit it ; but I don’t like you. So fuck you, and here’s my idea.” And with that, you stole the pencil in his fingers and began to explain your own point of view and your ideas on the subject, not giving him the opportunity to stop you. It was your turn now. 

He could not believe it. Not only the fact that you were a brat clearly making fun of him right now, but also that your ideas were… great. It was hard for him to admit it, but you really had some good points that he did not mention even once. Maybe you did not like him, and maybe he did not care much (or that was what he said) but you were not as much of an idiot as he thought you were. 

When you were done, you expected him to dismiss everything you said and called you the stupidest person on this planet. But he did not. Actually, he almost did the opposite. Well, you would never say out loud that you were pretty smart, but he did not throw your ideas away. 

At your biggest surprise, you both began to work together on the subject to find a good idea and solution that would use both of your brains and not only his. It was a first. You almost thought he was making fun of you in the beginning ; but you had to admit that he clearly was taking you seriously. 

It was refreshing, and as the days got on while working on this, you realized that perhaps he was not as much of an asshole you thought he was. He was just a genius surrounded by slower brains and he had some trouble accepting it. But he was almost treating you as an equal now that you had tell him to fuck off and put some respect on your name. 

Perhaps you should have done this sooner.

thank you for reading!

[eeboor]

here comes a long post i’m fucking sorry lmao

a really interesting point was raised the other day about who the better person is (morally): jayce talis or jayce giopara? [insert obligatory admission about the fact that giopara has an annoying personality].

Like, talis is of course nice and kind and wonderful, perhaps a bit naive, but i don’t think we talk about how far he’s willing to go for what he believes. he weaponizes hextech because mel asks him to, and he doesn’t think further. he blatantly ignores viktor’s wishes about destroying the hexcore, even using it on his corpse to reanimate him. he ignores the council and does what he wants, enacting vigilante justice at the cost of innocent lives (including an actual child). he set up the fucking hexgates in such a way that they pollute the water supply of the undercity. and then, when he’s back from his sabbatical in hell, he goes to viktor. he looks him in the eyes, with the weapon he never wanted him to make, and he shoots him. what the actual fuck this guy is unhinged. he doesn’t THINK. he has no sense of consequences—of course if you keep unsecured, highly unstable and explosive materials in your residential apartment, things might blow up in your face (literally!). of course your patron won’t support you—she is beholden to social opinion. of course weapons can never be unmade and are always used. of course using the scary magical dodecahedron your partner begged you to destroy to bring said partner back from the dead will bring him back Different ™️. come on Jayce.

and then giopara. he has no true family, instead is left to the bloodthirsty clans who want him for what he can give them. he’s antisocial. he’s fucking annoying. he’s a diva 💜. he’s impossible to work with but impossible to get rid of because he’s just that smart. he hates politics and only gets into them to appease his investors so he can do what he actually wants. he doesn’t give a fuck about the common people who look up to him so much. he’s alone, alone, alone. and then he’s not. he meets this other brilliant mind, the only one who can keep up with him. i mean how insane would that be? he must have been at least a little obsessed with viktor because of that. then picture jayce, in all his egotistical glory, drunk on life and the belief that he and viktor are the brightest minds alive, when viktor shows him the diver suits. why does he resist? why does he care? no one in his life is telling him to care. he just does. he sees the devices for what they are, or at least what they could be twisted to be, and calls viktor out on it. he doesn’t speak up for viktor when the stanwick thing happens, it’s true, but doubtless he simply expected viktor to wow and amaze with a different project and be happy with the credit from that. and then viktor leaves. and jayce is a one man act again. like always. like forever and always. jayce acts wrongly, it’s true, when it comes to viktor and destroying his lab and accidentally killing those people, but he saw what he thought was evil and he went for it. no thought of what he could lose. no thought of who he could lose.

idk man there’s something about these two. by no means do i think talis is a bad person, in fact i think he’s a fundamentally good one. but he’s just so fucking naive, and towards the end he’s willing to do ANYTHING for what he believes, no matter the grisly consequences. he’s fucking scary. he’s unhinged. giopara on the other hand has a terrible personality, but is completely unwavering in his beliefs no matter the cost to himself or his relationships. viktor asked him to work together again, and he said “get a psyche eval” and slammed the door.