#and then maybe a couple from when they were 12-13
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phneltwrites · 6 months ago
Note
be the place you call home ✂️🩷
hiiiiii 💜
I am like details obsessed so im cheating with a list of fave minor details:
wilhelm being bad at football <3 because it's part of his personal growth to do stuff without the expectation of being perfect
fighting for my life to not use pronouns for Petter, why is English so hard
wilhelm was crown prince "like in real life?" lmao
simon having a full time dilation incident while listening to a boring story. been there
plant dads wilmon
(honourable mention to all of the ways wilhelm is fighting off panic attacks that simon isn't noticing: running in his ridiculous cold weather athletic outift, doing All The Chores, outfit choreography, carefully drinking water)
✂ I really wanted to put in a scene where Simon and his university friends go to karaoke!! if I had any brain now would be the moment to write it but just imagine along with me for now. Purpose of the scene was to show again that Simon is disconnected from this group and having to rethink how he's defined himself cause their music choices do not overlap (there's a Carola v Karol G joke in there). Songs that he never thought much about turn out to be Spain Spanish and they don't know them at all. There's a brief agreement about Shakira but even when it's songs he knows, he doesn't have the vibe. He doesn't dance! He doesn't clap on time! They try to fix his hip work but it's hopeless.
I thought maybe I could bring it back later in the fic where he could be like fuck you i know who i am and sing Ella by Bebe which I picked out as a song that Linda might have loved back when she was pregnant and played for the kids growing up. But I couldn't make either fit.
It goes a bit like this:
"What do you mean you don't know Selena?" Carlos looks absolutely gobsmacked.
Simon squirms. He knows music! He does! But he doesn't know everything. When it comes to Spanish music he knows the stuff his mom played and he knows things that come out recently - he stays on top of it, okay? He listens to Rosalia and Bad Bunny. He won't win any obscurity competitions but he is reasonably au courant. He thinks. He hopes.
This is none of that. This is some weird void where nothing is familiar to him.
"What about Juanes?" That's Marco. Simon also doesn't know.
"I like Bebe," Simon interjects desperate to prove he knows things. Who is he? He's not like this. What does he care what they think, he knows what he knows. And yet.
There's a pause. At least he can claim the victory of throwing them off their argument.
"Like Bebe Rexha?"
Simon gives up.
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hypno-matt · 3 months ago
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Taking Notes
CW: Spirals, Edging
This morning I was talking to @mastern3ro about my love of spirals, especially being made to watch one and then post about just how blank it made you feel.
So I decided to turn that concept into an even better one.
The task I was given for this was simple. Watch a spiral for 20 minutes while repeating the phrase "I'm a needy hypnotoy." Very basic.
The fun part, however, was that i decided to track howni was doing every few minutes, in order to properly show what a sub goes through when they spend such time staring.
I figured I could use the Notes App to record how I felt every now and then, while using my PC to do all the heavy hypno-lifting.
I sat down at my desk, and put on my favourite spiral from an array of almost a dozen, pairing it with a nice looping set of binaurals.
I pressed play, and began taking notes.
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"Minute 1: The spiral is pretty and the binaural is great but nothing too far out of the ordinary so far.
Succint and to the point. As every great piece of information should be.
Nothing had really happened yet, besides me starting to repeat my mantra, very quickly finding a rythm that did not require much effort on my part.
I continued staring for couple of minutes, unaware of what was going to happen down the line.
"Min. 3: mm it feels nice, its hard to focus on the spiral, the hournal, the repeatimg amd the audio. It feels lile im cinfusimg himself ><
Im a needy hyonotoy.."
And here i had encountered my first problem. I had uknowingly overwhelmed myself. The audio, the video, the repetition and the note-taking were fine on their own, but too taxing for my brain combined.
I couldn't really stop now though, I didn't want to give up on this idea so soon. Besides, this overloading, while tiring, felt pretty great.
I had to keep going.
"Min 5;
I aasumed a better position, my legs sprea andd my baxk hucnhed iver. Hunchedf. Over? Is that how you sau it? Theres so much to keep track of and my brrtain is laggign.. i thinkk
Ik. A needy hypnoyy :)"
My brain was lagging. But it felt amazing. Arousing, even. So much so that i had decided to sink into my chair and spread my legs a little.
The overloading factor of this task was in full effect. It was already hard to remember to do everything. To listen, to stare, to repeat and to jot down what i was feeling. My voice began to trail off, the cadence that i had built up going away almost immediately.
"7: i gott caught up in takimg photos thw light of the apirall is so prettty ans so is my facee"
Just after the 5th minute I had noticed how adorable I looked. How relaxed my body was, and how much my eyes were fluttering.
Plus, the light from the spiral was coloring my otherwise dark room in warm pinks and purples. I would have been a fool if i didn't take a few photos, even it if overloaded me more.
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"10:ii look so pretyyy im drooling..
Im turned on the lighht so i can photo myssefl"
By this point, my mantra had escaped my mouth, now only occupying space in my quickly fading mind.
I lazily turned on the light, ready to look at myself again, only to realize that the spiral was all i needed right now.
I was halfway through. I had to stare.
"12: toyyy neewdyyt wdsgiunggg rewlwqttong is aurkmaric drooolimgg"
Toy was needy,edging and relaxing. Drooling automatically, my thoughts slowly leaking out.
When did i start edging? Or touching at all really? I had forgotten, but i did not care.
"13 ddrrooollinng ii sshhoyld kbeell.
Oii ttottyyy"
What was once "I'm a needy hypnotoy" became reduced to "I'm toy". Maybe I took "succint" too far.
It didn't really matter though. Toy had to kneel. It's what seemed most proper. It's what seemed the hottest. It had to be done.
"15 beeetyer onn. Mym kenes
Im aneedy hypnotttoot im soo good"
Toy felt better on its knees. I felt so happy, so empty, my blank face more apparent now than ever.
Toy was beggining to become completely broken.
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"17 mmfmcm imm so bbapnk imm a needy hoypnotoy
I forgot ot repeatt
Mmy mouutu iiis so drooollyy.."
After a few minutes of looking at itself through its phone's camera, toy realized that he had forgot his mantra.
Its mouth was occupied with drooling. It didn't have the brainppwer to do anything else.Toy went even blanker as he stared so intently at the spiral and himself.
"18 mminnn ttook liiikeww nn hoyrr"
The 18th minute did feel like an hour. Toy's mind couldn't really grasp time anymore. It was almost there, just 2 minutes left, but the time felt like it took ages.
Toy didn't mind. It loved staring. Listening. Drooling. Taking notes.
Toy obeyed.
"220000 oiikmm gonnww
Ttoyyy
.........."
And just like that, toy was gone. Its mind completely cleaned out, its body relaxed. It finished its task, and it felt great.
Toy closed its computer, and went to bed, repeating the words "needy hypnotoy" to itself until its mind returned about 45 mins later..
It had a great idea to write all this down. Just reading through, seeing the reactions and remembering them fully, it makes toy drop all over again.
I'm a needy hypnotoy. Please use me.
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navybrat817 · 4 months ago
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Hold You Tight: Part 13
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Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 12 | Series Masterlist | Part 14
Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k
Chapter Summary: You're on edge, but try to enjoy the day of freedom that Bucky promised you.
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, stalking, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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For his part, Bucky behaved once you were back in the shop. He waited patiently while you tried on a couple of the dresses and didn't attempt to go back into the dressing room or force you to come out and model them. You were thankful for that since there wasn't anything to jam under the doorknob and you didn’t need him to corner you again. Who knew how much he’d push the envelope the next time.
Before you went to the counter, you grabbed a cardigan from a rack. “This, too, please” you said, handing it to the associate. It would be nice to have in case you got cold at the vineyard.
“Of course,” she smiled, ringing it up with the other garments and accessories selected.
Bucky eyed the cardigan with a small smile. “That looks warm and comfortable,” he commented, sliding a card across the counter. “I should’ve remembered that,” he said almost to himself.
“Well, part of the fun of shopping is picking out your own stuff,” you said, careful to leave the bite out of your voice.
“And part of the fun of gift giving is surprising the receiver,” he said, kissing your temple. “I was trying to surprise you by having stuff you liked ready,” he added in a smaller voice.
You didn’t miss the glance from the associate, making you feel as small as Bucky’s voice sounded. Of course, he made himself look like a doting boyfriend and your comment made you sound ungrateful. “It was a really nice gesture and I loved the dresses selected. Thank you,” you said. He showed that he knew and liked your taste like a caring partner would do. “But maybe during the next shopping trip I can go through and pick everything out myself?” It would give you some sort of autonomy.
“Sure,” he smiled, likely happy at the prospect of there being a next time.
You mumbled a thank you to the associate before Bucky carried everything out of the store, not at all ashamed to carry stuff for his girl. Another doting boyfriend gesture. He even refused to let Ray take the garments from him when he held the door open. Nor did he let his bodyguard help you into the car.
“I didn’t spoil you as much as I wanted to, but it’s a start,” he smiled once you both got settled in.
“Yeah, it is,” you said. In your eyes, he spoiled you plenty. “I really do appreciate it. I’m not used to someone wanting to spoil me.”
Past boyfriends didn't care enough to do nice things like that. The last girl Bucky dated tried to steal from him, but did she demand shopping trips? Maybe he was simply happy to spend his money beyond you being his girl because you didn't expect or ask him to.
“You deserve it,” he said, sighing as he raked a hand through his hair. “I can't believe I won't see you tomorrow.”
You glanced at him and noted the droop in his shoulders. He may have dismissed your feelings from time to time, but it wouldn't help you to dismiss his when you were stuck in a vehicle with him. “I know it'll be tough, but it’s one day and you do have a photo of me to look at if you’ll miss me.” Who knew what else he had since your place was bugged.
“I do. I’ll probably look at it all day between work and other stuff,” he smiled, tilting his head toward you. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Depends on the favor,” you replied. God, did he want you to send him an explicit photo of you or something?
He made sure he was looking you in the eye. “Don’t run tomorrow. Don't leave the city,” he stated.
You blinked. The man wasn’t psychic, so how could he possibly know you thought of doing that very thing? At least, to get out of the city earlier than the girls trip. Was your poker face that terrible? “You think I’ll run?”
“I think part of you wants to try. Not even because you want freedom, but because you want to rebel against me and take back some control,” he replied. For his part, he didn’t sound upset. “But I think you and I both know you either won’t get far or you won’t end up running at all.”
You opened and shut your mouth. You wanted to. God knows you wanted to get far away. “Do you think I’m a coward if I don’t try?” You weren’t sure why his opinion on the situation mattered since he was the cause of it all.
“I think you’re one of the furthest things from a coward. Given the circumstances, you’ve been extremely brave,” he said. You didn't feel brave, but it was kind of nice to hear. “But one other favor? Don’t tear your place apart looking for the bugs either.”
You practically threw your arms up in the air, his compliment of you forgotten. The man was beyond exasperating. “Oh, come on! You’re giving me the day to myself, but I still have to stay in the city and I can’t get rid of the bugs?” You smacked his chest before you could stop yourself. “Your compromises suck, do you know that?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Did you… did you just say my compromises suck?” He threw his head back, his laughter filling the car. “Your insults are just as adorable as you are.”
“Yes, that’s what I said and my insults aren’t adorable,” you said, your face hot when he kept chuckling. “And I swear if you find some sort of loophole to see me tomorrow, I will go to your penthouse and throw out all of your expensive suits for being a liar.”
That cut his laughter short, but his eyes still sparkled with amusement. “Now we both know you’d donate my clothes before throwing them out. At least make your threat credible.”
“I… Okay, no, I wouldn't throw them away,” you said, smacking his chest once more when he looked like he’d laugh again. “But you may be onto something with donating. Maybe I'll donate your first editions to someone, too.”
“You wouldn't.” He tapped the tip of your nose, sending more fire through your veins. “You’re not the vengeful type.”
Grabbing his wrist before he could pull away, you lightly bit his finger and drew a sharp gasp from him. “I might just surprise us both.”
Heat crept up your neck at the look in his eyes. “I have no doubt about that,” he whispered, holding the back of your head and closing the gap between you.
His lips were persistent against yours, but still soft. So was his tongue invading your mouth. You put a hand against his chest as he pushed further into your space, but he was an immovable wall. You should've known he’d take your action as foreplay. He would twist anything and everything you did in his favor.
His scruff tickled your cheek as you turned your head away to breathe, but the intake of air didn't slow your heart. “Did you know I’ve dreamt of moments like this with you?” His hand cupped your breast through your top as you shuddered. You were trapped once again, just like in the shop. “You riled up or flustered and you making me laugh? Just… little moments.”
“No,” you whispered, his thumb brushing your nipple until it hardened. Touching you, having you, yes, you knew he dreamt of those things. You knew he wanted a connection. Hearing how much he craved the little things made your head spin, too.
“Well, I have.” Before you could tell him to stop, his hand fell away. “I won’t bother you tomorrow,” he whispered, brushing his hair back and settling once again in his seat. “As much as I want to see you, I won't.”
You smoothed out your top and got comfortable again, too. The underlying tension didn't cease when he took your hand and you didn't flinch or pull away. He wouldn't try anything else. Not tonight. You just knew.
“Try not to run tomorrow, okay?” he asked.
You looked out the window and caught him looking at you in the glass, the semi distorted image an accurate description of your relationship. You knew it was off, that he was off. No one else would see it that way or just didn’t care.
“I’ll try not to,” you replied.
Whether it was cowardly to not try or stupidly brave to stay, you might just have to stay put.
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You didn't say much for the remainder of the car ride. Bucky brought up the double date again with Steve and you didn't argue when he suggested a couple of places. Maybe you could figure out what Steve was doing to this girl and you could help each other out. At the very least, it would be nice to have a new friend who might understand a bit of what you were going through.
It was fucked up way to think.
Bucky managed to balance the books he purchased for you earlier that day as well as the clothes once Ray parked the car. “I can carry something,” you offered.
“I've got it, but thanks,” he said, refusing to let Ray help either. “And this way, I'll keep my hands to myself,” he added with a smirk.
You bristled, but recovered quickly. “I hope you have a good evening, Ray.”
He gave you a nod and what looked like a hint of a smile. “You as well.”
You were a bundle of nerves as you went into your building. You were close to having time to yourself, but Bucky was still going up to your apartment since he insisted on carrying everything. The elevator ride up was comfortably silent, but you saw the tension in his body once you got to your floor. He really didn’t want to let you go for a day.
“Thank you again for the books and the clothes,” you said, getting your keys out as he followed closely. He was practically breathing down your neck. “You can just leave everything in the entryway.”
He hummed, stepping inside once you unlocked the door. “You don’t want me in your bedroom?” he guessed.
“I think we’ve had enough excitement for today,” you said. Between kissing you in the shop and his car, you wouldn’t risk it.
He carefully set the books and garments down before he turned to you. In an instant, your back was against the wall and the sound you made muffled by his mouth. He moaned against your lips when you didn’t turn your head away, but you shoved his chest to get him away. You really thought he wouldn’t push anymore tonight. He promised. He…
He stopped.
He pulled back, his breathing ragged and a glazed look in his eyes. “I’m not a monster. I’m not,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. You braced yourself against the wall as he turned to leave, pausing to look over his shoulder. “I’ve just never wanted or needed anyone like you. I’m… I’m trying.”
“I know you are,” you whispered. And he wanted you to want and need him, too.
He smiled sadly and you almost reached out to soothe him, but you refrained. “Enjoy your day tomorrow,” he said.
The door shut before you could respond, leaving you in the silence of your apartment. A minute or two passed before you went to your room. Uncaring of the bugs around your place, you began to pack a few things in a tote bag with tears in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave tonight, but you’d be prepared if you wanted to go tomorrow. Who were you kidding, would you leave at all?
You blinked the tears away when you caught the photo of you and your friends on the dresser. It was foolish to think of escaping if it meant risking something happening to your loved ones. Addison and Brady. Dana. Your other friends. Mrs. Crandle. In the end, you would have to stay for them. Your life for their safety and continued happiness.
A small price to pay.
Curling up on your bed next to the bag, you whispered, “Once again, you win.”
Would luck ever be on your side when it came to him?
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There were no texts from Bucky when you woke up the next morning. It felt… oddly quiet, but you weren’t sure if that was a relief or something you didn’t want to think about. Nothing was out of place in your apartment, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still being watched thanks to the bugs. There were no gifts outside of your door. No breakfast. Just the quiet of your own thoughts as you went about your morning routine.
You smiled as you left the apartment, but it felt different today. Somehow lighter. It was as though normalcy wasn’t a burden, but a chance to breathe, to exist without your new “boyfriend” pulling the strings. The crisp morning air felt welcoming, and the walk to your favorite cafe was like a promise that today you could simply enjoy the time you had. The rich scents of coffee and pastries greeted you like an old friend, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of something close to peace.
“Most important meal of the day.”
You tried to push Bucky and his haunting blue eyes from your thoughts, but his absence lingered like a shadow you couldn’t chase away. He still followed you. Today wasn’t a day for lingering on what could happen tomorrow. Today was about you and small steps, about finding comfort in simple moments, and allowing yourself to breathe without the weight of uncertainty. And kindness to a stranger seemed like a good place to start.
“I’d like to pay for the person behind me,” you said.
"Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that," the woman said, her surprise softening into a genuine smile. Something in her tone felt warm, like the simple exchange was more than just about paying for her coffee and pastry. It felt like a shared understanding, a reminder that kindness still mattered, and that it could still find its place in a world that often felt too heavy.
You couldn’t help but smile a little wider. “I wanted to,” you said, taking your to-go bag. You were still capable of offering kindness and still held the belief that it could make a difference, even in small ways. “Have a great day.”
The next stop was the flower shop once you finished your treat. You carefully selected a variety of flowers so you could make a nice arrangement at home. You were far from sad, but it would brighten up your mood more. Working with flowers always gave you a burst of happiness.
Once you were back at your apartment, with no one waiting for you, you got to work. Humming, you cut and prepped the flowers and selected a wide, simple vase. Once you had the grid of tape on, you added the greenery, focal flowers, and filler flowers. You loved the balance and harmony it presented once finished. It was also beautiful.
You snapped a photo of the colorful arrangement and sent it to the girl group chat. “What do we think?”
Addison was the first to respond. “Gorgeous! Seriously, how do you do that? I can’t wait to see what you do for my wedding!”
Dana responded next. “Why are you not running your own shop? Mrs. Crandle is sweet, but you should be in charge.”
You giggled when Gina asked, “Can you please tell me how to keep flowers alive? I’m hopeless.” with just about everyone reacting with a finger pointing up.
“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked.”
You hugged your phone to your chest as Bucky’s voice echoed in your mind. The praise from your friends was warm and you felt seen, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if you were seeking validation. Did you need them to remind you that you were good at something? Or was it just that you didn’t want to feel invisible, even in this small corner of your world?
“Love you ladies. Can’t wait for Saturday.”
It was true. You loved them and always would. With the thought of the upcoming weekend and enjoying the time together, your doubt was silenced.
There were still no texts from Bucky as you wrapped up the morning. Things felt normal. It was almost too normal. You felt like you were still holding your breath and looking over your shoulder when you left your place again to head to the bookstore, expecting Bucky to block your path or suddenly show up.
It was silly to visit the bookstore considering you were just there and Bucky bought you a bunch of books. Like the cafe, it was another sense of comfort. You even spotted a new book you previously overlooked. It was a perfect novel to add to your collection.
“Reading has always been a hobby of mine. I even have first editions of some of my favorite books.”
Had Bucky carved out a place for himself so deep in your core that everything went back to him? Was this how he went about his day? Did he see something or do something and his mind just went to you? How did one function when someone else constantly invaded their thoughts?
“Hi. Is Marc working today?” you asked once you were at the counter. You wanted to see with your own eyes that he was okay.
“No, he isn’t, but he’ll be in tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay,” you said, stopping the associate before she bagged the book. Maybe you could find an excuse to go back or call to talk to him. “I’ll just put that in my bag, thanks.”
The weather had warmed up enough that you could go to the park with your new book in hand. Grabbing a seat on an empty bench, you took a moment to appreciate the landscape. It was one of the brightest spots in the city. You sometimes pictured having a picnic date there, looking up at the sky and seeing what shapes the clouds made.
“One day,” you smiled to yourself, getting started on your book.
You were only about one chapter in when a man’s voice jolted you from the pages. “Excuse me, miss. Is this seat available?” You glanced up to find a tall man in a turtleneck and long trench coat standing over you with a charming smile. Was he wearing purple gloves? “My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay.” You nodded to the empty spot. “Feel free.”
“Thank you.” He sat down, his eyes on you as you tried to go back to your book. “Beautiful day, isn't it?”
“It is,” you agreed, turning a page in the hopes he’d get the hint. You didn’t want to be rude by not conversing, but you were trying to read.
“And it’s nice to finally meet the lady who has James Buchanan Barnes so enamored.”
Your heart thudded in your chest, turning to face him. He had a knowing smile on his face, like he knew you were either afraid or worried. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
“I don't believe you do. How rude of me to assume.” He extended a gloved hand toward you. “Helmut Zemo. James and I work together on occasion.”
“Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand, but didn't let it linger. Something about him put you on edge, a different sort of edge than Bucky. “I don't hear many people call him James.”
“He’s not particularly fond of it. He much prefers for people to call him Bucky.”
That said something about their relationship if the man didn't respect Bucky’s preferred name. “Okay, Mr. Zemo. Is there something I can help you with?” You couldn't imagine Bucky sending this man to speak to you. “And, I’m sorry, how did you know where to find me?”
He shrugged a bit. “I may have bribed someone or two. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”
Your stomach plummeted. What was wrong with these men? “You sound like Bucky,” you muttered. No wonder they worked together sometimes, if he was telling the truth. “And if you’re bribing people just to get close to me, I think I have the right to know exactly who you spoke to.”
“As I said, it’s nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”
You looked around. There were others at the park, but no one paid any attention to you. What would happen if you screamed? “What do you want from me?” you asked. Was this one of the things Bucky meant when he said it wasn’t safe for you?
He held his hands up. “I mean you no harm. I just wanted to see you face-to-face since I didn't receive an invitation from James to meet you at his club. I’m sure it… slipped his mind,” he said with a bitter smile that had you shifting away from him. “I must say, you don't strike me as the type to fall for a murderer.”
You swallowed a little. “A murderer?” Bucky had referred to himself as a monster who hurt and killed.
“Oh, yes. The blood of many stains his hands, don't you know. Alexander Pierce. Brock Rumlow. Jasper Sitwell. Howard Stark,” he ticked off names like he was listing ingredients for a recipe. “He even killed-”
“I think your time’s up.”
Both of you looked behind you to find Ray standing feet away. It was one of the first times you ever saw the stoic man look angry. “Ray?”
“Ah, Raymond!” Zemo smiled, pushing himself up from the bench. He didn’t look at all intimidated by Bucky’s bodyguard. “I was wondering which one of you would show up. Good to see you still have work.”
Ray blinked twice. “Indeed. And I’m sure you’ll hear from my boss very soon,” he said, walking around the bench to put space between you and the virtual stranger. “For now, you should go back to your side of the city and leave her be.”
“We were only talking.” Zemo held his hands up again. “You don't think I'd pose a threat to the property of James Barnes, do you?”
“I’m no one’s property. I'm a person,” you seethed, holding your head high. You were tired of everyone around you thinking of you as an object. “And I agree with Ray. You need to go. Now.”
“Such unexpected fire,” Zemo smiled, making your skin crawl. “I didn't mean to upset or offend you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”
Ray’s jaw clenched. “Walk away and don't look back at her,” he ordered.
Zemo glared at Ray, but walked away without another word, his jacket flowing in the light breeze.
You breathed properly again as Ray took a seat next to you. “Are you okay?” He shifted toward you when you nodded. “I’m so sorry he bothered you. He was supposed to be out of town.”
“Who is he? How did he know where to find me?” You narrowed your eyes at Ray and he didn't flinch under your gaze. Much scarier people stared him down. “And how did you know where to find me?”
“Zemo works with Bucky from time to time. He has his own club blocks away, Echo Scorpion. Lots of money and resources and far from being Bucky’s friend,” he explained, blinking twice again. “Boss wanted to make extra sure you were safe and he thought I was the best for the job.”
“What?” you asked over a whisper. Bucky and his fucking loopholes. “Have you been following me all day?”
“Yes,” he answered.
You slowly breathed in and out to remain calm about the fact that Bucky stayed away, but still had you followed. It didn’t calm you down. You were upset. So upset that you let out a shout of frustration loud enough that a few people looked your way, but no one stopped to check and make sure you were okay. Maybe they thought you were crazy. Maybe you were at this point.
Ray didn’t look at all surprised by your outburst. “Not to defend my boss, but he is keeping his promise by not contacting you himself if that is any consolation.”
“He still sent you, Ray. He can say all he wants that it’s for my safety and maybe it is, but it’s still a control freak move and he’s probably demanding that you give him every detail about my day,” you argued, shoving your book into your bag. “And today was going so well.”
“It still can.”
“You’re still going to follow me though.” With Zemo showing up, maybe it was for the best that Ray showed up. “That Zemo guy. Is he going to hurt me?”
“No,” Ray said with certainty. Zemo still wanted something though. Maybe he wanted to get under Bucky’s skin since he wasn't asked to meet you. “He knows that would start a war of sorts. Try not to worry about him. We’ll deal with him.”
“Start a war? You’ll deal with him? You speak so casually about violence because I assume it’s violence that’s intended,” you said as Ray looked in his lap. “He said Bucky is a murderer and he listed names. He killed those people, didn’t he?” you pressed, shuddering a bit when Ray didn’t deny it. God, he really was a killer. Why? For his own gain? “I need to sit down,” you said when your vision began to blur.
“You are sitting down,” he gently pointed out, scooting over and tenderly placing a hand on the back of your head. “Deep breaths. Put your head between your knees. It’ll help.”
You bent over, taking a few deep breaths like he instructed. “You said I can do this, but I don't know if I can, Ray. I’m not brave,” you said in a small voice.
Bucky didn't have anything to fear. He was a king who ruled his city and decided what to do with the peasants. You didn’t ask for him to entangle you in anything of his, the peasant that you were. You just wanted to survive at this point.
Ray surprised you by rubbing your back, your head starting to feel normal again. “Yes, you are. You just don't believe it because you’re not in your element,” he said, helping you sit up properly again after a minute. You did feel a bit better. “Try not to think about this and enjoy the rest of your day. You owe it to yourself to have some peace and relaxation.”
Glancing at your tote bag, you had to agree. You did owe it to yourself to have a bit of peace and relaxation. “Bucky asked me not to run or look for the bugs, but I can’t have complete peace today if I go back to my place for the night,” you said, glancing at the blonde beside you. “Is there anywhere I can stay where he won’t have direct eyes on me?”
Up until Zemo showed up, it was a normal day. A good day. You wanted that to continue.
Ray thought it over. “There’s a hotel not far from here, The Red Room. We can get you a suite for the night. I will warn you before you ask, the manager has worked with Bucky before.” He stopped you before you could get up and leave. “But she won’t breathe a word to him about anything you do. Her staff is very discreet.”
You weren’t sure whether to believe him or not. At the end of the day, he worked with Bucky and his loyalty remained with him. “Why The Red Room and not just another hotel?”
“Because it’s safe there,” he said.
You sighed and slowly got to your feet. It wasn’t getting away, but it was a small win and something told you to trust Ray. “Before we go, is Bucky doing okay today?” Part of you was curious.
Ray shook his head. “He’s in a mood and he misses you,” he replied. You pushed the guilt away. Bucky had to learn to handle time apart. “Shall we go? Are you okay to walk?”
“I’m fine. Just lead the way,” you answered.
Spending time in a hotel suite would relax you. It would give you time to read your book. And it wasn't like Bucky would show up and ambush you.
Right?
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And Zemo has entered the picture. What will Bucky do when he finds out he made contact with his girl? Is Ray really looking out for you? Will anything happen at the hotel or will our girl get the rest she more than deserves? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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bernardsbendystraws · 1 month ago
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Fresh Air
Matt Sturniolo x Reader
Check out my pinned post for more of my writing.
00 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 FINAL
Summary: One night at a party seems to change everything. A strange man with a friendly smile and a sleeve of patchwork tattoos seems to make you feel at home for a change. You're finally happy to have made a good friend to lean on - especially when it comes to your not-so-great relationship with your boyfriend. But what happens if you lean too much...what happens if you fall?
Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.
A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.
With love and big tits, Rose.
09: Cum and go.
wc: 1500+
I could feel his eyes on me. The hot flashes of the camera didn’t feel as electric as his stare. It was pitiful, really. I found myself losing focus, constantly looking around to find his shadow walking around. And it always seemed to be so close. 
He didn’t have to be here. Matt had no obligation to stay for anything, but he did. It was because he wanted to be there for his brother and I knew that, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I played a part too. 
“Do you need a break?” Danny asks from behind the camera. Her management voice seems to soften with the question - the same question she had asked me at least four times now, but I just couldn’t seem to be just a puppet for once. My smile kept falling, my eyes kept trailing wondrously. 
Shaking my head, I bite on my inner cheek, trying to peel my attention away from the racing thoughts and back to the shoot. 
I wish he didn’t affect me so much. Even freshly out of a relationship, I didn’t even think about Hayden this much. In fact, I had rarely thought about Hayden at all. Just a taste of bitter regret when his name floated into my mind. 
A couple more snapshots and the photographer finally calls it good. I walk over to my stuff, gathering everything back into my bag before flinging it over my shoulder. My body just feels sore. Random aches and pains were multiplying, a lack of sleep starting to catch up to me both physically and mentally. 
The hiss leaving my mouth from the sharp sting is barely audible, I look around to take one last look, my eyes landing on him, Matt. And he’s staring right back at me. 
Concern is plastered on his face. I don’t bother trying to look anymore, brushing past a small crowd of people and trying to get to the door. It’s a morning shoot, it’s barely noon and I’m exhausted. 
Grabbing the handle to the door, my heart drops as I hear fast footsteps run up from behind me. 
“Wait -,” 
Turning around, I come face to face with Matt. A reeling weight of guilt pummels down as I feel the urge to launch myself into his arms. 
Why do I still feel like this? 
Shouldn’t it be… different? 
“Are you,” he pants, rubbing his hand over his face, “-are you okay?” 
Am I okay?
No, but telling him would only make things worse. 
“I’m okay.” I state shortly. 
Matt’s eyebrows furrow, his hand reaching up and scratching behind his neck. “I, um - do you wanna…can we maybe -,” 
“Not today. Sorry,” I spit out, rushing my words painfully as I turn and walk out the door. 
Waves of air fill my lungs. My chest gets heavier, each step feeling more forced as I further the distance between myself and Matt. 
I want to be with him. Today, tomorrow, and everyday. But, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t want to be with the person who I cheated on someone with. That would only end in disaster - a disaster bigger than the one already in place. 
My feet stumble to a stop on the pavement. Should I turn around? Manon was a good friend, I loved her, but she didn’t give me the feeling he did. Nobody did. 
Maybe no one ever would. 
“Hey,” I feel his hand on my shoulder, Matt’s hand. I don’t have to turn around or look over my shoulder to know it’s him, the wave of comfort from the heat of his touch lets me know, something relaxing deep inside of me tells me it’s him. 
“We shouldn’t be talking, Matt-,” 
“Then let’s not talk. But I’m your friend. I know when you’re not okay, we don’t have to talk, but I’m not gonna let you be alone while you’re going through something.” 
His words slip through every crack of the wall I had been mentally building. I just can’t stay away, I can’t resist him. The feeling I get while being around him is something irreplaceable. I was addicted to the heat of his touch, the comfort of his words, and the way he made everything feel so… light. 
No words. I simply nod, letting him guide me by pulling my elbow, opening the passenger door of his car. 
Sitting down, I stare up at him. “Don’t you wanna stay for Nick?” I ask. 
Matt shakes his head. “I didn’t come for Nick.”
He buckles my seatbelt across my body, his hand lingering on my knee for a brief moment before he stands up and softly shuts the door. 
He didn’t come for Nick. 
He came for me. 
___
Silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. Not even in the slightest. Matt had given me a change of clothes, one of his baggy T-shirts and a pair of our matching pj pants, the pj pants. 
The ones that had led to this disaster. 
What really happened? 
We lay on his bed, a foot of empty room between us as we stare at the TV mounted on his wall, playing reruns of shows. My body seems to ache, trying to maneuver closer to him each time I shift myself in the bed. I don’t even realize it until I feel our knees touch. 
“Do you…can…” He stutters over his words. I let myself curl under his arm, laying on his chest and nuzzling my cheek against his soft shirt. Matt stiffens. His body slowly falls back limp, his hand hesitantly starting to rub my shoulder as he pulls me in closer. 
It feels so peaceful, so calming. The lack of sleep seems to catch up with me quickly, my eyes feeling heavy as I let my lips start to speak the words balancing on the tip of my tongue for what felt like ages. 
“What happened that night?” I question. 
Matt goes rigid. He clears his throat, taking a deep breath. I can hear his heartbeat quicken. 
“I, uh, I -,”
“I won’t be mad,” I cut off. “I just want to know.” 
The drum of his heart seems to calm slightly. His hand starts to tangle with the ends of my hair, nervously fidgeting with it as he clears his throat once again.
“I’m…I’m sorry. I had a dream and I never meant to make you uncomfortable - all I know is that I woke up with um…I just - I changed pants and I hoped you didn’t notice. I’m so sorry, I never meant to make you uncomfortable -,” 
“You didn’t.” 
The interruption makes his ramble of words come to a halt. His fingers stop fiddling with my hair. I feel him move, looking down at me as I stare back up at him from the uncomfortable position. 
I lay back down on his chest comfortably, my hand gliding over his chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt. “I woke up. It…it wasn’t very long, but…I didn’t want you to stop.” 
Silence. Matt seems to process the information slowly, his heart returning to a normal beat. “You…you didn’t?” 
“No.” I say simply, sighing before peeling myself out of his embrace, laying on my back as I cover my face with my hands. “I went to talk with Hayden. I…I knew I couldn’t do it anymore, but when I went to his place, some girl answered his door.” 
Ugh. The same rush of emotions waves in like a hurricane. 
“I’m so sorr-”
“For what? That my ex boyfriend was cheating on me? I cheated on him. I don’t even have the right to be upset. I…I’m more upset with myself than him. I mean, I…I really like you and I just…I don’t think we could ever be together, it’s so… wrong.” 
Time seems to freeze. I hear his breath hitch, finally uncovering my face to see him sitting up, staring into his lap with glossy eyes. 
“...Matt?” I ask, sitting up and placing a hand on his shoulder. 
And that’s when I feel it. The slight shake of his body before a harsh cry purses through his lips. I’ve never seen Matt cry. At least not like this, it’s always been tears of laughter. I could feel every wall I had built up crumbling down, the stamina for holding some sort of restraint disappearing as I wrap my arms around him and hug him in towards my chest. 
“I - ‘m sorry. I didn’t - didn’t mean to and I -” He hiccups, grasping onto my waist for stability as he sobs into my chest, soaking the material of the shirt. 
Before I know it, a tear glides down my cheek, falling into his hair. Matt freezes, pulling himself up before staring at me sadly. “Can I just…can I just hold you? Pretend that none of this ever happened? Just…just us. Please.” 
An offer I can’t refuse. I nod, laying back down, my eyes feeling wet and heavy as Matt pulls me into his chest, his hold impossibly tight. And I know why. 
He knows he’ll have to let go. 
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thatsthat24 · 5 months ago
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Sanderstober 2024
SANDERSTOBER IS HERE! Once again, my friends and I are creating art prompts for you all to try your hand at for every day of this month, if you'd like! Try one, try some, try all! If you miss a day but still want to do a prompt from a day you missed, please go ahead! This is all just for fun. If you'd like to share your creations, you can use #Sanderstober2024. I'd love to see! Hope you enjoy them! 🍁
October 1: Always gotta start out this day with the traditional prompt! take a character from media or OC and draw how they look on September 30th vs. how they look on October 1st!
October 2: Create a sheet ghost, but featuring the pattern of a sheet/blanket you own or maybe used to own when you were younger. - This idea came from my friend, Andrea!
October 3: A quick Google search of “keyblade designs” (the weapon from Kingdom Hearts) would show you how the weapon changes based off the property the character goes to! Design a keyblade based around any piece of media, as if the main character from Kingdom Hearts traveled there… - This idea came from my friend, Rene!
October 4: There’s a lot of fast food and cereal mascots out there… I think you know where I’m going with this. Take any of those mascots and turn them into a MONSTER or KILLER.
October 5: This one’s a play off a prompt from last year AND it’s a writing prompt! Take any famous character from a horror film, and create a nursery rhyme about them. You can make it completely innocent, or, like many nursery rhymes, remain dark but disguised in pretty language.
October 6: Take your favorite animal… and dress it as your dream profession. - This idea came from my friend, Talyn!
October 7: Take one of your favorite movies and reimagine if it had been marketed as a different genre (e.g. Hellraiser as a family comedy, Goodfellas as a romance, etc.) - This idea came from my friend, Joan!
October 8: Turning things into Pokemon tends to be a favorite prompt of mine, and this year, the category is… fast food! Take any fast food of your choice, create a Pokemon, and name it!
October 9: Take any foreign animation cartoon and draw them in the style of a western animation! - This idea from my friend, Dominic!
October 10: Definitely a sucker for fall fashion and aesthetic, so take any character or group of characters from one of your favorite pieces of content and give them a fall aesthetic makeover.
October 11: Crows collect shiny things… what things might the nest of a crow contain from one of your favorite fictional universes? - This idea came from my friend, Lev!
October 12: Take any color and ONLY use that color in order to depict a Halloween, horror movie, or fall scene.
October 13: A very expressionistic vibe for this prompt: draw the aura which you hope to be walking in during fall or Halloween. - This idea came from my friend, Valerie!
October 14: There’s LOTS of new words and sayings out there (skibidi, rizz, Ohio, ick, etc.). Google some, you’ll learn a couple new ones. I want you to create a Halloween monster/creature/cryptid based off one of these new words, as if they were the names of the creatures themself (Oh my gosh… it’s the legendary Los Angeles Ick…)
October 15: Sure, people are scared of Halloween monsters… but are there things that would be scary to those monsters? Get creative and depict some things/scenarios that would be terrifying to a typical Halloween creature! - This idea came from my friend, Jackie!
October 16: Those new horror-fied versions of fast food/cereal monsters from October 4 need weapons… take a meal or the cereal from the brand you got your mascot from, and create a weapon inspired by it!
October 17: There has been lots of theorizing in the fields of science on how the human body may evolve in order to either perform modern tasks better or survive… SO, imagine up a human evolution that has adapted to survive some environment (fire, spider bites, rejection), or one that has adapted to perform a certain task (tennis, gaming, folding clothes). - This idea comes from my friend, Joan!
October 18: So, Toy Story 5 has been announced… draw the next toy that’s gonna be introduced as a character in it.
October 19: Returning to an annual favorite of mine… take any character(s) from a piece of media and depict them in the style of a Tim Burton character.
October 20: As a play off of Dominic’s suggestion from an earlier day, take any western animation’s characters and depict them in the style of a foreign animation!
October 21: Taking inspiration from the movie, Hocus Pocus, take any character from a piece of media and depict them riding what *they* would probably bewitch into a broomstick if they had to in a pinch!
October 22: They’re giving your favorite background character a spin-off series. What does the poster for it look like? - This idea is from my friend, Dominic!
October 23: Ok… that monster/killer mascot you made on October 4th? The movie has to have a setting. Maybe an appropriate building? Maybe an entire town… Depict that setting…
October24: Take a character from your favorite movie/tv show and depict them as if they were a character in a fighting game like Smash Bros. or Street Fighter! What does their special/ultimate move look like? - This idea came from my friend, David!
October 25: Take any fun/special memory from your life and create a children’s book cover inspired by it. - This idea came from my friend, Stephanie!
October 26: Take your favorite classic Halloween monster and use them as inspiration for a new species of insect… - This idea came from my friend, Dahlia!
October 27: This feels like a classic for any time of year: take any favorite piece of media and cast the Sanders Sides in it.
October 28: [Any of your favorite pieces of media] … and Zombies
October 29: Think of a very important key object from one of your favorite movies or tv shows that the protagonist(s) finds. Now imagine they never stumbled upon it. What would it look like 100 years later? What else may have happened to it if the protagonist never found it? - This idea came from my friend, Chantz!
October 30: Now… we combine the ideas together to make the ultimate new Halloween villain! Take your creations from October 4th, 8th, 16th, and 23rd, and place them all together to create a scene of them terrorizing the main protagonists!
October 31: And, as a classic end-of-the-month tradition, today’s prompt is about celebrating the reason for the season, Halloween! Imagine if Halloween was like New Year’s Eve for Halloween creatures/characters. What would they look like, dressed all fancy for the occasion and celebrating?
Got the list fully completed! Looking forward to whatever you all create! 
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persevereforahappyending · 3 months ago
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No Man's Land |13|
Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader
Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.
Warnings: Bleeding, Stab Wounds
Word Count: 3.5k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15
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You leaned against the wall as you waited for Sam to talk with her sister. Tara was clearly upset, which you couldn’t blame her for, a psycho was trying to kill her and her friends, again. You thought it was best to make yourself scarce though, so you chose a wall to lean against where you could keep your eye on everyone. You tilted your head as Ethan walked around, looking at the stuff in the cases. As far as you knew Ethan was new to the friend group and hadn’t been a part of any previous attacks, he was looking at everything as if this were some sort of museum, not as if he was looking at the complete history of a couple serial killers, or at the evidence of his so-called friends’ attack last year.
“Hey,” Kirby said, nodding at you. “We think we got a plan to catch Ghostface.”
You pushed off the wall and stepped up to Kirby with your arms crossed. “What do you got?” you asked.
“We’re going to trace his call.”
You slowly nodded, tracing a call was the quickest way to find where someone was. “But you’d have to expect him to call to be ready.” You had traced plenty of calls when on a mission, well, the people back home did the tracing, you and your team were just the boots on the ground, waiting to see where your target was.
“Which is why we’re going to tempt him,” Kirby said slowly. You furrowed your brow, the only thing that would tempt Ghostface to call was Sam. Your eyes widened when you realized what Kirby meant, and you shook your head. “She already agreed.” You let out a huff, Sam was very bad at keeping herself safe.
You nodded. “Let’s get to it,” you gestured for Kirby to lead the way. You weren’t happy about Sam basically using herself as bait to tempt Ghostface, but you knew you didn’t have any say. You were just going to have to do your best to protect her until Kirby could trace the call.
“One other thing first,” Kirby whispered as she leaned closer to you. You furrowed your brow, but you looked down to see her sneaking a gun to you.
You looked around to make sure no one was paying any attention to either of you as you took the gun from her and as casually as you could slipped it in the holster at your back. “You sure about this?” you whispered. You didn’t look at her, you didn’t want to draw any attention to the two of you.
“Call it a leap of faith,” she shrugged. “Maybe this is a mistake, maybe you use it against me,” she gave a little nod in the direction of the gun. “But my gut is telling me you having that is what’s for the best.”
You nodded. “Thank you.” You knew the kind of trust Kirby was putting in you. Kirby was betrayed by her best friend and the guy she liked, her giving you a gun was probably the riskiest thing she could do.
You followed behind Kirby as she led you to where everyone else was beginning to gather. “So, we doing this?” Gale asked.
“Sorry, no press allowed,” Kirby said with faux sympathy and smile.
Gale glared at Kirby but just rolled her eyes. You were honestly surprised Gale didn’t fight Kirby a little harder. You weren’t sure what the history between Kirby and Gale was since Kirby was in high school during the 2011 attacks and you didn’t think she had interacted with Gale before then, but it was clear Gale had a way of getting on people’s bad side. The relationship between Gale and Sam was complicated to say the least, sometimes it seemed like Sam couldn’t stand Gale and other times it seemed like she knew Gale was the only one who could truly understand. You didn’t dislike Gale by any means, but you had a natural distrust when it came to reporters, especially when said reports used other people’s tragedies to make a profit.
You offered Sam a smile when she looked at you which she instantly returned. You told her everything that happened to you last year and the reason as to why you were in town now. She ran off to talk to her sister almost right after that and you hadn’t gotten a chance to talk more, you hadn’t talked to her about your theory about Ghostface either, there were just too many eyes around you all the time now it seemed. A part of you wanted to know what Sam thought about what you told her, when you said it was her who should stay away from you, you meant it.
You followed everyone out of the shrine and waited patiently as Kirby and Bailey got everything together for the plan. You knew Tara wasn’t thrilled the last time you had a gun and didn’t tell her, but you opted not to tell anyone, including Sam, you had one this time. You knew it probably would come off the wrong way when they did eventually find out but you didn’t know who to trust. You didn’t think the sisters were behind any of the attacks, but Ghostface somehow knew to wear a bullet proof vest and maybe it was because they knew the history of the mantle, or maybe it was because they somehow learned you had a gun on you. Sam was the only one who knew that information and she didn’t even share it with her sister, that didn’t mean Ghostface didn’t bug her phone or was somehow watching and listening to her, you could never be too careful.
Once all the details were worked out the plan went into motion. The plan was for Sam to walk around central park and await Ghostface’s call. It didn’t seem like the best plan considering it was the middle of the day and Sam would be surrounded by people, but it seemed to be the only plan all of you had. You weren’t sure what Ghostface’s mindset was in these type of situations, he usually called his victims before attacking them, you weren’t sure if that was just part of the routine to honor the first Ghostface or if he got pleasure in causing fear and panic in his victims before he struck.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” Anika said, before everyone parted ways. “I’m sorry,” she looked at Mindy and there were tears in her eyes as if she thought Mindy would be angry with her.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Mindy assured her. “I don’t want you anywhere near this.” Mindy pulled Anika in for a long hug and only parted to give her a passionate kiss. “I want you to be safe.” Anika nodded as she tried to hold herself together as tears continued to fall.
“I can take you somewhere safe,” Kirby offered, Anika nodded at the offer. “I’ll meet you guys in an hour?” she pointed at all of you.
You all watched Anika walk off with Kirby, you didn’t know her well, but she didn’t deserve anything that was happening, none of them did. You hoped that without being around the others Anika would no longer be a target. Even if Ghostface tried to go after her again you believed Kirby would get her somewhere safe, preferably with some police protection. While Kirby took care of Anika, Bailey left to gather everything they’d need for the trace, and you and the others all began making your way towards Central Park.
You couldn’t help but nod your head in approval when Kirby pulled up in a truck with an Enterprise logo on it. Any time you did undercover work it was usually you wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses or sitting in some cramped truck with five other people without any air conditioning. Though, when you were undercover or spying on someone it was always in another country, a beat-up old truck would draw much more attention than an Enterprise van, at least this way you’d be hiding in plain sight.
“I’m going with you,” Tara said.
“Wha-no,” Sam said, shaking her head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Which is why I’m going with you.” Tara looked up at her sister with a determined look that even though you had only known her for a few days now you knew that look meant there would be no arguing with her.
Sam looked to you for support. You silently chuckled and shook your head. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said. You didn’t think it needed to be said but if Sam thought her sister was still willing to stay behind then maybe you did need to clarify you weren’t sitting back in the van either.
“Alright,” Kirby said turning to the three of you. “We will be in this van,” she pointed back to the van. “Bailey will be waiting on a park bench, ready to make his move,” she gestured at Bailey. “Just relax and enjoy the nice weather.” Sam nodded. “Don’t worry,” Kirby rested a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You got this. As soon as he calls, I’ll be able to trace him within seconds.”
Sam nodded. You could tell she was nervous, but you knew she was ready. She had talked to Ghostface plenty of times on the phone at this point, the only difference between now and all those other times was you all actually wanted him to call. The three of you walked away so you wouldn’t draw attention to Kirby as she hopped into the back of the van. You caught Bailey walking towards a bench, wearing a baseball cap and carrying a newspaper as if that wasn’t suspicious looking at all.
The three of you began walking around Central Park, you made sure to keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. You weren’t suspecting someone in a Ghostface costume to run straight up to the three of you but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be close by. He could be waiting in the shadows like he was when he attacked the three of you on the street. You were prepared for anything, anyone that looked the slightest bit suspicious you had an eye on them.
You could tell Sam was getting antsy with the way she kept looking at the phone, as if she was willing it to ring. You weren’t sure if she wanted it to ring or if she was secretly hoping it wouldn’t. You didn’t have to wait too long because the next thing you knew, the phone rang. Sam looked up, meeting the gaze of you and her sister, you both gave her an encouraging nod before she swiped to answer.
“Hello?” Sam asked.
You couldn’t hear Ghostface’s side of the conversation, so you focused on Sam’s words and watching her facial expressions. Sam always looked shaken when she talked to Ghostface, though you were sure the fear was less for herself and more for her sister. When Sam talked to Ghostface though, you could see her determination and anger at this all happening, her desperation for all of this to just stop.
The call ended almost as quickly as it began. From the looks of it, it didn’t seem the conversation went as Sam wanted, or you guessed it went as well as expected. Sam quickly tapped her phone and put Kirby on speaker. “Did you get it?” She asked.
“Yeah,” Kirby said, sounding slightly distract as she probably tried to narrow down the location. “That’s weird,” she mumbled more to herself.
“What?” You asked. Weird was not a good word to use when tracing someone’s call, that usually only meant a few things, the phone was either from someone you knew, the call was coming from right outside the van, or it was out in the middle of the ocean or somewhere it couldn’t possibly be. You might not know much about Ghostface, but you figured it wasn’t the latter, Ghostface seemed well equipped in hacking or using a number that was clearly someone else’s.
“He’s nowhere near here.” You furrowed your brow, the only reason he wouldn’t be anywhere near all of you was if he knew the plan, which was seeming more likely, or he had another target. “He’s in an apartment on the upper west side.”
“On West 96th?” Tara asked, snatching the phone from her sister.
“Yeah, how did you know?” Kirby asked.
Your eyes widened with realization before Tara said anything else. “Gale.” The sisters shared a look, and you knew you’d be running off after them to confront Ghostface once again.
Tara and Sam took off running without a word and you were right behind them. It was clear they had absolutely no plan except for to get to Gale. “There!” Tara shouted and pointed at a police car.
Sam hopped in the passenger seat while Tara ran around to the driver’s side. She had just begun to open the door when you put a hand on it, closing it on her. She quickly whipped around, shooting you a furious glare. “I’m driving,” is all you said. You gave her a look that told her not to argue with you.
Tara pulled her hand away from the door and glared at you one last time before hoping in the backseat. You jumped in the car and found the keys Bailey carelessly left in the vehicle. It wasn’t that you doubted Tara’s driving skills, you just had more experience in this type of thing, and you didn’t want to put your life in some college kids’ hands by them getting behind the wheel. You looked past Sam as Bailey waved his hands and ran towards the squad car, you just smirked before flipping on the lights and sirens and whipped out into oncoming traffic.
You sped down the street, swerving in between cars as you made your way halfway across the city. You didn’t worry about anything as you made your way uptown, you had the sirens on, you were in a police car, everyone should be making way for you anyway. It didn’t even cross your mind how much trouble you could get in for technically stealing a police car. You knew Bailey hated you so him arresting you wasn’t too far out of the realm of possibilities.
You made it to the Upper West Side within a few minutes. Before you knew it you were slamming on your brakes right out front of the apartment building. You didn’t even bother turning off the lights as you rushed inside behind Sam and Tara.
Sam tapped her foot repeatedly as the three of you waited for the elevator to reach Gale’s floor, of course she had to live at the top. Tara wasn’t much better, she was practically vibrating as she stared up at the numbers, as if she was willing them to count faster. Finally, there was a ding, and the elevator doors slid open.
The three of you ran out of the elevator only to stop dead in your tracks at the sight of Ghostface over Gale with a knife in their hand. Sam only waited a second before she rushed forward, already reaching for the gun on the floor. You didn’t want to reveal your new gun yet, but you reached back for it, this could be your only chance to kill one of them. Just as your finger brushed against the weapon Sam began firing and Ghostface took off out the door.
You tracked Ghostface’s movement as they went down the hall, most likely headed for the stairwell. If you ran after them, you could probably catch up, a stairwell was a tight space, but you could easily take them out. “What do we do?” Sam asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.
You hated to let Ghostface go but you didn’t hesitate to drop down next to Gale. You quickly assessed her wounds. “Call an ambulance,” you said. Tara quickly pulled out her phone and with tears already falling she brought the phone to her ear. “Put pressure here,” you ordered Sam, grabbing her hands and showing her where to press on the wound on Gale’s shoulder. You pushed her hands down, using the same force you wanted her to use. You then moved to the wound on her stomach and began applying pressure there as well. You didn’t focus on what Gale was mumbling to Sam, more concerned with making sure she didn’t bleed out. “Don’t stop,” you ordered when you caught Sam relaxing slightly.
You kept your hands firmly pressing on Gale’s wound until the medics arrived and took over. You backed away as they got to work on Gale and looked over at the sisters who were both holding each other as tears streamed down their faces. You looked down at your hands, seeing them once again covered in blood, you flexed your fingers as you tried to avoid wiping the blood on your pants.
Once the three of you gave your statements you were allowed to wash the blood off. The three of you ended up in the lobby of Gale’s apartment along with Chad, Mindy, and Ethan. You stood away from the group, leaning against the wall as you watched them, you didn’t want to intrude while they processed what happened. Gale was alive when the ambulance took her, but she had lost a lot of blood already, it would be hit or miss on whether she survived or not.
You furrowed your brow when Tara went from being huddled together with her friends to standing up. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but it was clear Tara was talking on the phone with someone and with the way she held it they seemed to be on speaker. You knew it wasn’t Ghostface they were talking to, there was too much anger coming off all of them and absolutely no fear.
You raised and eyebrow when Sam broke away from the group and came to lean on the wall next to you. “They’re making a plan to kill Ghostface,” she said. You hummed, that meant Tara was talking to either Bailey or Kirby if not both of them. “We plan on using the shrine.”
“Makes sense,” you said, not taking your eyes off the friends. “A lot of places to hide and take someone out.” It truly was the perfect place to stage an attack, but just as many upsides as there were there were as many downsides. The plan would only work if Ghostface didn’t know what he was walking into, but he had been a step ahead of you this entire time, so you didn’t foresee surprising him.
“If we’re really doing this,” you whispered, not looking at Sam as you spoke. “There’s something you need to know.”
“What?” she asked. You could feel her eyes on you, but you still couldn’t look at her, you could risk giving anything away.
“Don’t react when I tell you.” You glanced out of the side of your eye and when you saw Sam nod and mimic your position of leaning against the wall and not look at you, you knew this would be the only chance you would get. “There’s three of them.”
“Wha-”
“Don’t,” you cut her off. “There’s three killers, I’m sure of it.”
“There’s usually only ever two,” Sam whispered.
You nodded lightly but to anyone else it would look like you were just leaning your head back against the wall. “There were two when you were attacked in the gym. Those two were untrained, no combat experience whatsoever.” You shook your head, you clocked that instantly when you faced off against the one, then the other surprised you and ran instead of taking you out or trying to continue going after Sam. “But the one from the bodega,” your voice got lower, afraid someone would listen, even though there was no one around. “They were trained, like professionally.”
“Like a cop?” You nodded. “You already have suspects.”
You nodded again even though it wasn’t a question. “My top suspects have been Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn from the moment I met them.”
“Quinn is dead.”
“Yeah, I haven’t figured that one out yet,” you bobbed your head back and forth. “But the other two,” you glanced at Ethan as he crossed his arms and swayed back and forth as he listened to what the others said. “Look, cop, FBI agent, military,” you listed off, including yourself in there as well. “There are three Ghostface and one of them is highly trained, don’t trust anyone.”
“Even you?”
You looked over to see Sam’s eyes already on you. “Yes,” you said simply.
You would do everything to protect Sam and her friends, but you didn’t want Sam to blindly trust anyone, even you. If she trusted you after only knowing you a few days then she could easily trust anyone else, you wanted her guard up and for her to question everything. “Now,”’ you said, pushing off the wall. “Let’s kill these assholes.”
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beneathsilverstars · 2 months ago
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A lot of people headcanon that Siffrin was something around 12-14 when the island disappeared, which does make sense. But it’s common enough fanon that I wanted to go back and figure out what’s actually canon!
Lots of evidence and math under the cut, including various things to consider when creating your own hc timeline, but tl;dr:
If we stick to only textual canon, then Siffrin only needs to have been old enough to row a boat, which I would guess to be 6-8. If we take into account the ranges id5 gave for everyone’s ages during canon, he theoretically could’ve been anywhere from 6-25 when the island disappeared. Or if we adhere to everything id5 has said, then he was a “teen” when it happened, so, 13-19.
Siffrin: I ran away from home once! I just didn't want to eat my veggies. And so I took our boat! Got to the beach, rowed away from the shore a bit. I was going to come back right away, I just wanted to scare my parents a bit! I started to row back towards the shore... And then, I...
People often assumes this means Siffrin was fairly young when they left. However, that relies on two assumptions, which are fairly reasonable, sure, but assumptions nonetheless: that they were young when this happened, and that this is when the island disappeared.
While throwing tantrums over vegetables is a stereotypically childish activity, chafing at strict or even well-meaning rules doesn’t belong exclusively to children. There are parents who continue treating their kids the same way even as they grow into teens and even full adults, before they move out or even just while they visit. Which is very frustrating for the kid! So imo it would make perfect sense for a teenager or even a young adult to go, “I can’t believe my parent is still trying to control what I eat like I’m a blinding 10 year old. If they won’t treat me like an adult at home, maybe I’ll prove my independence by leaving for a bit!”
It’s also possible that the event this dialogue refers to ended with Siffrin returning safely home! It’s fun to say that his story trailed off at the moment that the island was forgotten, but it’s possible he only stopped the retelling there because the curse kicked in, just like it would for any childhood memory. Maybe he didn’t get cut off from the island till he ran away for a second time. Maybe he was just on a regular, fully-sanctioned outing when it happened. Maybe he was even with other people. Who knows! Siffrin sure doesn’t!
(Edit: It’s word of god canon that the veggie event was the island’s disappearance, but it doesn’t necessarily affect our timeline anyway.)
I think the only thing this story proves is that Siffrin didn’t leave the island until after they were old enough to row the family boat. Unfortunately I don’t know for sure how old that would be. I did some research and found a couple posts about 6-7 year olds learning how to row, but one of them was using an inflatable raft, and the other was on a rowing team, so I don’t know how the difficulty compares. Young children really are quite good at picking up their parents’ hobbies, so I think even a 4-5 year old could learn how, but they may not be physically capable of handling an adult-size boat. It really comes down to a question of core strength / endurance. Found some posts saying the weight of the boat doesn’t matter as much as the weight of the oars, though, so maybe old fashioned boat vs modern inflatable raft doesn’t matter that much…? So maybe it would be possible for a child to row a small wooden skiff at around age 6-8. Probably not for long, but that just makes it all the more realistic for them to drift farther than they meant to and then struggle to return to shore.
So: Siffrin was at least 6-8 when they left!
Bonnie: I think my village was really close to it!!! My sister said it was all everyone could talk about for weeks!!!
If we assume “my village” means Bambouche, the island disappearance would have to be after Nille ran away with Bonnie, but still long enough ago that Bonnie doesn’t remember it directly. If we define “preteen” as age 10-12, then the longest ago this could possibly be would be 12 years. On the other side, I think it’s reasonable for a 10 year old to not remember a major (but personally irrelevant) event that happened when they were 6, meaning the closest it could be is 4 years ago.
If we follow WoG (word of god) age ranges, then Siffrin is in their “mid to late 20s”, which I’ll define as 24-29. Subtracting our 4-12 years ago range for the island’s disappearance, Siffrin could’ve been at youngest 12-17 and at oldest 20-25. If we stick to only TC (textual canon), I think one could interpret Siffrin as anywhere from 18-35, which would mean they were at youngest 6-23 and at oldest 14-31.
Of course, “my village” could also mean wherever Bonnie and Nille lived before running away. I think the youngest age at which it’s likely for an adult to remember a personally-irrelevant event from their childhood is maybe 5. Nille’s WoG age range is “late teens to early 20s”, which I would define as 16-23, which means the disappearance could be 11-18 years ago. Combining this with our 4-12 range gives us 4-18, meaning WoG Siffrin could have been at youngest 6-11 and at oldest 20-25.
But if we’re only going off of TC, we can say Nille’s as old as we want, so the disappearance just has to be at least 4 years ago for Bonnie to not directly remember.
Isabeau: This article says there's no record of him anywhere... Up until he appeared out of thin air sometime in his adulthood. Looks like he lived in the city of Corbeaux for a few years before he became the King...
According to the change god statue exposition cutscene, the King started his rampage “almost a year ago now”. The way Isabeau says the bit about Corbeaux kind of implies that the King lived other places before that, but not to the point that it’s unreasonable to say he didn’t. So if we define “a few” as 2-4, then the soonest the king could’ve appeared is 3-5 years ago, meaning the island disappeared at least 3 years ago. We already said it has to be at least 4 years ago, so this doesn’t change our math.
How old were Nille and Bonnie when they ran away? How old was Sif when their home got zapped?
id5: Both were teens.
Womp womp, there it is. WoG says 13-19!
But while we’re here, here’s a summary of everything you might want to consider while creating your timeline:
Siffrin must have been at least old enough to row a boat. I’m not an expert in boats but I think it’s reasonable for a kid to be capable of rowing at age 6+, but a 6-8 year old may struggle to maneuver the oars of an adult-sized boat, and wouldn’t be able to row very hard or for very long. Doesn’t necessarily take much effort to get far enough for waves and currents to take you farther, though.
It’s WoG that the veggie event is the island’s disappearance, but if you’re going off of TC, the disappearance could have happened later instead. And a dramatic disagreement over veggies could theoretically happen at any age! Its causes could also range from rather practical (Siffrin is extremely picky and his parents are worried about his health) to pure power struggle (Siffrin just wants more choice in what he eats but his parents just want him to follow the rules they’ve set).
Since the King lived in Corbeaux for “a few” years before his nearly-a-year-long rampage, the island must have disappeared at least 3 years ago.
Since Bonnie remembers Nille telling them about the gossip surrounding the island’s disappearance, I doubt they would’ve forgotten the gossip itself if it had happened somewhat recently. (I think it must have been at least 4 years ago.)
If Bonnie’s reference to “my village” means Bambouche, the disappearance must have occurred after Nille ran away with them.
If Bonnie’s reference to “my village” means wherever they lived with Nille before running away, then the disappearance could be before Bonnie was born. But it would still have to be when Nille was old enough to pay attention to the gossip and remember it for a while. (I think she must have been at least 5 years old when it happened.)
According to id5, Siffrin is in their mid-to-late twenties during the game, and Nille is in their late teens to early twenties.
According to id5, Siffrin was a teen when the island disappeared, and Nille was a teen when she ran away from home.
You can do whatever you want forever, including contradicting textual canon. ^^
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sweetflanfiction · 1 month ago
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Asymetrical Symphony - Part 21
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Universe: Arcane (LOL)
Pairing: Viktor x reader
Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help
Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know
Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15 • Part 16 • Part 17 • Part 18 • Part 19 • Part 20
• ··········· • ············ •
The night was bright, the moon and the stars illuminating the room at the Academy you were now standing in. You were sitting on a wheely bench, swaying from side to side, your fancy attire contrasting with the uniformed man sitting beside you. 
The blackboard in front of you was filled with a familiar chicken scratch. You grinned at it. Man is a genius, but gods forbid he wrote anything legible. There was a 3D schematic next to the list. 
"What was that shape again?" You asked, smiling mischievously, and heard the Zaunite scientist chuckle low after sighing.
"It is a dodecahedron."
"Say it again."
He snorted, looked you dead in the eye, and said it again, accentuating every syllable.
"Do-de-ca-he-dron."
"Sounds much better when you say it." You winked and saw his face redden quickly. It was cute, and you had recently found you enjoyed his cuteness. You wanted to pull this side of him out more.
You’d met a while ago; you being one of Jayce’s old friends, he took no time to introduce you to his new lab partner. And you two took no time in becoming entangled. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, but the attraction was there.
Looking away from the man, you studied the blackboard. Your head tilted to the side, your perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.
You’d been drawn to it as soon as you entered the dark Tallis Lab. The dinner at the mansion had become boring, and you'd decided to disrupt Viktor's evening with your presence. Not that he minded; at least it wasn't what his tired smile told you when he opened the door to the lab to find you there, staring with an overly innocent smile on your face.
He had invited you in and told you to wait for a couple of minutes until he was done with his work. That had been an hour and a half ago, and at some point, he stopped apologizing.
And now here you were, hypnotically staring into a badly erased blackboard, with something written on it and a schematic that did nothing but fill you with curiosity. So much so that you got up from your seat next to Viktor to stand in front of it.
“It is not a painting in a museum, you know.” His voice came from behind you, the telltale sounds of him getting up and walking toward you loud in the empty lab.
"I do have to find something to do while waiting for a certain Undercity scientist to find out I'm waiting on him." You bit back at him and heard him chuckle as he limped towards you. “Besides, exactly how many museums have you ever visited?”
His hand snaked around your waist and stayed there, pulling you gently into him. You felt the scent of oil, parchment, and coffee coming out of him along with a smile on his lips as he breathed you in and nuzzled up to your neck, the ghost of a kiss near your ear making you smile.
"Maybe you'd like to take me to some sometime."
"Sure, should I schedule that before or after your 24-hour shift in the lab?" You looked sideways at him, and he shook his head; a tired sigh was the only thing that came out of him, though.
“What is it anyway?” You felt him place his chin on your shoulders, and you grabbed his forearm, making soft circles on his skin. “Not the shape…the whole thing.”
“The core facets of the arcane.” He simply hummed, his fingers drawing lazily, stroking your waist as he swayed you both gently from side to side. “It is for a project I’m working on. But most of these we add to the hex gems for them to work.”
"And what is this project you are working on?" He shrugged.
"I cannot say. If it all goes well, it can change everything."
"Everything?" He nodded confidently. "Well, reaching for the stars, aren't we?"
"Well, funny enough, one of those symbols is for the moon." He traced a symbol in the air, and you realized that the bullets from the bullet list were, in fact, symbols. 
“You need to get better at writing so that someone else can read it.” You squinted at the blackboard.
“Jayce can read it, and that's all that matters.” You felt him shrug nonchalantly.
If Viktor's words were a pain to read, the smaller scratches next to them were downright impossible to decipher. 
“What are they? The facets I mean.”
He straightened up but didn’t move, only adjusting his crutch and his grip on you to find a good position. The back of your head rested against his chest, and you felt his slow breathing.
“The first are the natural facets: air, earth, fire, and water. Then the heavenly bodies: the moon and the sun. And then the forces of magic: chaos and order.”
“That’s eight of them. The dodecahedron has twelve sides. You finished the question with a kiss on his jaw. 
“We are still trying to figure out the rest.”
“I guess you two have to do something inside this big room to warrant the absurd amount of money you are being given by the Academy.” You joked and looked at him as his eyes dropped to you disapprovingly. “I’m joking. Tell me more.”
“We have come to some conclusions.” He started, his voice becoming animated. “For example, magic in itself cannot kill or give life, because you cannot kill a rock or bring a rock to life. But if certain sediments find themselves in the right order, a rock can be created, the same way that if something chaotic happens in the process, the rock may not be a rock at all. It becomes corrupt.”
“Are we bribing a rock now?” You joked, and he moved his fingers on your waist, tickling you and making you shriek.
“Not that type of corruption. Think of it as any condition that can deteriorate something.”
“Why aren’t those two in there? Create and corrupt?”
“Chaos and order…”
“No…” you argued, lifting a finger to shush him. “Chaos and order are different things. Chaos doesn’t necessarily corrupt, and order doesn’t create. You can create through chaos and corrupt through order.”
Viktor stayed silent for a while, biting the inside of his cheek in contemplation. After a few minutes, he disentangled himself from you, and an impressed expression showed on his face, which you returned with a smug one. He walked over to the board and wrote what you assume were those two words with white chalk.
“If we add corruption as something that deteriorates…then we must add what deteriorates the most.” He pointed the chalk to you, and you raised your eyebrows. “Time.”
“If you add time, you might as well add space. Like... physical space... distances, dimensions, measurements, and whatnot.” You walked over to him, grabbed the chalk, and added your suggestion. "If you physically place a rock in a location with the right conditions, it can become a pebble."
“I’ll make a scientist out of you someday.” He grabbed your hand and placed the chalk on its little sill under the board.
“Yuck.” You grimaced dramatically. “And be stuck in this dark hole with y’all without getting the chance to leave whenever I want? Blah... thanks, I’ll pass.”
“I could make your time spent in this lab very much worth it." He took a small step towards you. "After hours, that is…”
You raised an eyebrow at his forwardness. This whole thing between you two was weeks long, and although Viktor's demeanor was a little cold and collected most of the time, he liked to throw these jabs just to see your reaction. 
“Why spend that time at the lab when there's a perfectly good mansion?” You grinned, and he rolled his eyes jokingly.
Viktor’s cold hands came up to your face and held it, gently looking into your eyes with a loopy, tired smile, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. He moved a piece of hair from your forehead, gently caressed the space between your brows, and placed a kiss there. 
“What if it is just a little bedroom over at the Academy dorms?” He whispered into your ear, and you smiled, moving so you could look at him.
“It'll do, I guess...” You joked, and he laughed, grabbing your hand and moving you towards the workstation. 
You saw him go around the lab turning machines off, placing schematics in drawers. He grabbed his satchel and placed a couple of those in there with his notebook and pencil.
Before walking out the door, you looked back at the board, still curious about that subject. Your neat handwriting in the middle of Viktor's.
'Space'
"Are you hearing me?" Viktor asked, snapping you out of your reverie.
"No... I never do really. I'm just here for the pretty face." He blushed and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the lab, already rambling about the hexgate inauguration and how much he didn’t want to go.
• ··········· • ············ •
@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies @iamfandomnerd
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carlos-in-glasses · 6 months ago
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Rhythms
124k, 17 chapters, E, complete and on Ao3.
TK swoons when he discovers a sentimental scrapbook full of notes he and Carlos have left for each other – but he also unearths a book of poems that closeted teen-Carlos wrote about his struggles, including a few dedicated to his high school crush. An adorably mortified Carlos recalls the stir he caused when he was published anonymously in the high school paper, and everything he went through to write his wedding vows for TK years later. With TK as a hype-man, maybe Carlos can embrace his creative side again.
Read on Ao3
Chapter 1 - Love Heart: The day after TK and Carlos’ first wedding anniversary, TK is sent home from work sick. Back at the loft unexpectedly, he makes a surprising discovery about Carlos.
Chapter 2 - Club Can't Handle Me: In 2011, sixteen-year-old Carlos is both in the closet and in his high school’s wrestling team – and it’s all a bit too much. Perhaps against his better judgment, he turns to poetry and makes a decision that will change his life.
Chapter 3 - Crossroads: Daydreaming about his wedding vows mid-drive, Carlos gets pulled over for a traffic violation – and Gabriel isn’t happy. Reunited with TK, Carlos might be lost for words, but he finds another way to express his love and desire.
Chapter 4 - The Wrestler: Carlos’ poems are published – and he quickly learns there’s no putting the genie back into the bottle.
Chapter 5 - A Gay Fantasia: In the aftermath of being abducted by a serial killer, Carlos reflects on recent events and resumes work on his wedding vows.
Chapter 6 - La Tormenta: Carlos is devastated when Scott gets a girlfriend, and he finds himself in another snowballing situation.
Chapter 7 - Soulmates: When TK has a Huntington’s disease scare, Carlos finds he knows exactly what to say. But will it help him with his writer’s block when it comes to his wedding vows?
Chapter 8 - Man of Mystery: It’s the day of the Lake View High School Talent Show – and will the real Shadow Poet please stand up?
Chapter 9 - Crush: In 2011, it’s make or break for sixteen year old Carlos at the talent show. In 2024, TK becomes the hype man Carlos had needed over a decade ago.
Chapter 10 - From Behind: A couple of weeks before the wedding, Carlos is still working on his vows when a deeper rift develops between him and his dad. In 2012, seventeen year-old Carlos is spiraling after coming out to his parents.
Chapter 11 - The Other Wrestler: TK decides to lift Carlos’ spirits by learning how to wrestle.
Chapter 12 - Carlos Reyes Will Be Okay: At Gabriel’s funeral, Carlos regrets saying no to reading a poem in tribute – but during the wake, he finds himself under a whole new pressure. Later that night, he realizes the vows he’s worked so hard on for TK cannot be spoken yet.
Chapter 13 - The Closet: Despite some good news, Carlos ends up in the doghouse with his mom and with TK.
Chapter 14 - Once in a Blue Moon: Reeling from his confrontation with Andrea, Carlos seeks advice and admits a secret.
Chapter 15 - Raining on Prom Night: In May 2012, chaos erupts at Carlos’ senior prom.
Chapter 16 - Tyler Kennedy Strand: The wedding day arrives, and Carlos finally gets to recite his vows to TK.
Chapter 17 - Shadow Poet: Carlos attends his poetry reading with TK by his side and some important people in the audience – but will he actually perform this time?
“I was just remembering–” Carlos says, “The first time you stayed for a while after one of our hookups. It was, like, the third time we hooked up, I think. I asked if you wanted tea and cookies and you looked at me like I’d said the weirdest thing ever.”
TK’s exhausted, puffy face breaks into a dazzling grin. “You were being such a Boy Scout.”
“But then you said yes and you ate half the cookie jar.”
“You called me the Cookie Monster.”
“That was the first time I really made you laugh.”
“Tea came out my nose.”
“It was beautiful,” Carlos says, pausing then to qualify: “Your laugh.”
TK gazes up at him, his clear green eyes large and shining. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“The first time you made me laugh was when we were dancing at the honky-tonk.”
“Hey!” TK swats his arm. “I was trying my best!”
“You were so goofy,” Carlos chides. “I just loved it. I loved you.”
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elizabethsnuts · 6 months ago
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hii! regarding your toddler requests, could you maybe write Emily Prentiss teaching her daughter how to walk? 🥹
Baby Steps
Emily Prentiss x Daughter!Reader
Summary: Emily had been trying to teach you how to walk, even if you much preferred to crawl.
———
You weren’t exactly the most eager to walk, you preferred to scurry around on your tiny hands and knees. Though Emily was always trying to get you to walk, holding up your favourite toys, snacks, anything she could think of she tried.
“Come on N/N, come to Mama! Come on! Walk to Mama!” Emily cooed to you as she crouched with her arms out, standing a few feet away.
You stared at Emily and giggled, falling from your standing position to your hands and knees. You quickly crawled over to Emily with a big smile on your cute little face.
Emily let out a lighthearted groan, smiling. She picked you up under your arms and kissed your cheek. “No! Y/N you’re supposed to walk, not crawl! You’re so silly!”
You just giggled and cuddled Emily, waving around your blankie. You just didn’t want to walk, why try and balance on your two tiny wobbly legs when you could just go so much faster crawling?
“Are you going to walk at all? Ever? I bet you find this funny, so funny watching Mama try to get you to walk.” Emily smirked and stood you up on your feet.
“Mama.” You clapped your hands and smiled, looking up at Emily.
Emily just chuckled and set you down. “Yes, yes, yes. I guess you’ll walk when you want to, or maybe you can and just enjoy watching me struggle.”
———
A couple of days later, JJ and Henry came over, you love playing with Henry and seeing your aunty JJ. Emily and JJ were in the kitchen, just talking and keeping an eye on you and Henry who were in the living room.
“How old was Henry when he started walking?” Emily looked at JJ curiously, taking a sip of her coffee.
“I think he was 12 or 13 months? He was an eager walker.” JJ smiled and leaned against the counter.
Emily sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Y/N still isn’t walking yet! I’m getting worried, I just don’t want her to fall behind.”
JJ gave Emily a sympathetic smile. “Don’t stress about it, Em. She’ll walk when she’s ready, most babies start walking between 12-15 months. She’s fine, some babies just like crawling anyway.” JJ chuckled.
Emily gave her best friend a small smile and chuckled. “I guess so, I do hope she starts walking soon though, even if that means extra baby-proofing.”
You quickly came crawling into the kitchen, giggling loudly. Emily laughed and picked you up, setting you on her hip. “Speak of the devil! What are you up to, little miss? Walking any time soon?”
You just grinned and giggled, patting Emily’s cheek. You gave JJ a wave and blew her a kiss. Henry came into the kitchen as well with his toy truck, waving it around.
Emily and JJ’s phone suddenly rang in their pockets, making them groan a little knowing it was probably another case. Emily sighed and pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll call Elle, see if she can watch them.”
JJ nodded and picked up Henry. “That’d be good, I would call Will but he’s at work.” JJ turned to Henry and smiled. “You want to stay with Aunty Elle and Y/N?”
Elle eventually arrived, JJ and Emily grabbing their go bags and getting ready to say goodbye. Emily came over to you and kissed your cheek, hugging you. “Bye-bye, sweet girl. Mama will be home soon, I love you so much.”
You watched Emily start to walk away, you let out a cry and reached your tiny hand out to Emily. “Mama!”
Emily sighed and gave you another wave goodbye, still walking towards the front door. “I know, sweetheart, but Mama has to go. You’ll have fun with Aunty Elle!”
You kept crying, grabbing the side of the couch to pull yourself up to stand. You took your first shaky and wobbly steps over to Emily, reaching your tiny arms out. “Mama!”
Emily gasped and dropped her go-bag, holding her arms out to catch you. “Y/N, baby, you’re walking! You’re walking! Come to Mama!”
“Mama!” You sniffled and kept taking tiny steps over to Emily, stumbling slightly.
Emily caught you and lifted you into her arms, hugging you tightly. “Oh, Y/N! You did it! You did it, gorgeous girl! You’re walking! Good girl, you’re so smart, you did it! You finally walked for Mama!”
You hugged Emily tightly, you didn’t care about the milestone you had just achieved, you didn’t want your mama to leave. “Mama.”
Emily nodded and kissed your cheek, stroking your hair. “I know baby, Mama will just stay for a little bit longer. I love you so much.”
Even if it meant Emily was late, she would still rather stay with you. Even if you drove her crazy sometimes, you were still her little girl who had just taken your first steps.
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trashogram · 1 year ago
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He Chose You (Pt. 2)
Lucifer/Reader
Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End
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Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani
‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’
Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors. 
Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with. 
These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 
Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company. 
And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard. 
You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water. 
“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”
Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be. 
If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net… 
Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire. 
Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold. 
With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.
There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.
——
“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”
“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you. 
The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance. 
It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering. 
“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.” 
“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.
There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight. 
He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.
‘Quack!’ 
“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs. 
Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly. 
You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly. 
The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.” 
“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen. 
You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips. 
“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.” 
You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.” 
Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke. 
“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth. 
The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy. 
It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck. 
‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’ 
“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you. 
You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.” 
Mrs. Farrow beamed. 
“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”
“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned. 
He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.” 
Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”
“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”
Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more. 
The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.
The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.
“Baphomet.” 
You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again. 
“O-oh, the statue is…?”
Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.” 
The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it. 
“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.” 
“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.” 
The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”
You turned to Warren again. 
“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.” 
Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.” 
“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.” 
“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious. 
The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.” 
Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.” 
Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.” 
“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”
“Dinner time!”
Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself. 
Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”
——
All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine. 
The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least. 
As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself. 
“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”
“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.” 
“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.” 
Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.” 
‘Quack quack’
Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.
“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!” 
The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned. 
She had a small wicker basket in her arms. 
“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.” 
As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier. 
“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence. 
“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!” 
The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.
“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”
“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.” 
There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat. 
“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!” 
“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!” 
“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room. 
“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”
“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.” 
A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.” 
“The cost must’ve —”
“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently. 
You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket. 
Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you. 
So funny. 
… You felt funny. 
Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there. 
“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…” 
Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat. 
The basket was gone. 
Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table. 
“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”
Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. 
“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.” 
Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater. 
Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright. 
The next second you were walking through your neighbors’ kitchen, the door held open for you. 
“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”
“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”
You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock. 
“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.
Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass. 
Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell. 
“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.” 
“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.” 
“Oh no, thank you.” 
——
When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right. 
It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it. 
‘Well that’s good.’ 
The heavy feeling in your arms was still present. 
‘That’s not so good.’
You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly. 
Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall. 
You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’ 
The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body. 
That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you. 
Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was… 
Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him. 
“Hello there!”
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zosan-secondchances · 2 months ago
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The Pirate King of the North: Part 9
Bonus panels for some extra backstory.
Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship
Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.
Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17
That night, the swordsman makes a last minute decision to rectify things with the blonde. He figured that there's no point in delaying as this might be the only chance they get to talk one-on-one before they get stuck in Skypiea with Law for however long they need to be up there. Since his cocktail-making skills are apparently subpar at best, he thought he'd turn to doing something else that he hopes Sanji would like before he pops the question–about the name, he reminds himself. Whatever it is, it will need to be something incredible to make up for the shame of not knowing something so simple about the man after all the years they’ve known together.
He thinks about quickly jumping off to collect some flowers in Jaya’s South Grove, but he is met by Jean Bart who drags his sorry feet back inside. The large man assigned himself on “Zoro duty”, not wanting the Warlord to get lost the night before he needed to depart with their captain. Apparently they had pissed him off enough already that day.
Zoro turns to the kitchen to try and find Sanji's favourite snacks, and maybe sneak away with a couple bottles of wine to help set the mood. Unfortunately he bumped into Hakugan and Uni who are guarding the door, ready to strike him down should he set foot inside the room. They give him a powerful performance of their martial arts prowess as a gentle reminder that he's banned from the place, warning him that they’re not afraid to put their lives on the line to enforce Law’s rules. When he tried to ask for their assistance to go and fetch what he needed, they both turned him away, thinking that he's just trying to distract them so he can do whatever evil thing he apparently was set out to do.
His last option was the library. He’s not much of a reader but he figured he would try because he knew of Sanji’s love for knowledge and books. He wants to read a story or two with him to see if that’s something they would enjoy doing together. Sadly, when he arrives, he is met by the Grand Line’s most impatient doctor who is currently studying the Skypiea map with Bepo at the polar bear’s drafting table, trying to come up with a plan of action for when they get there in the morning. Not wanting to be distracted or have the library wrecked the way Zoro did with the kitchen, Law used his Room ability to teleport him out of there before he could even get a chance to grab something off the shelves.
Having no other options left, Zoro resorts to the idea of giving the blonde mind-blowing sex. He would worship him like the king he is and he would do it all night if the other man demanded it so. The swordsman figured it's probably the safest bet anyway while they’re in the early honeymoon phase of their relationship. Sanji is highly skilled in that area for a very good reason.
He makes his way to their bunkroom. Under the door, he sees that the dim light of the desk lamp is still on. Finally, things are looking up. He thinks to himself that now’s the perfect chance to make a move while Sanji is probably still up reading at this hour as usual.
Until he hears a couple of familiar voices on the other side of the door. They were muffled, but their identities were clear.
Sanji
…Are you sure that you're okay? I don't know how effective it is with the front broken like that.
Niji
Dunno. It's like…having mood swings. The sensation goes in and out. It's a bit weird.
Sanji
I need you to get it fixed first then. And while you're at it, drop off the new stones at the lab.
I'm not sending you in until you're all good.
Niji
I can still fight.
Sanji
I'm not letting you take the risk until your helmet’s fixed, Niji. That's my final word. You’re on your own with this next mission and I need you to be able to make good calls.
Another pang of guilt hits the swordsman–for not being careful enough and wrecking the commander’s helmet, and for eavesdropping for as long as he has so far. He starts walking backwards, and was about to turn his heel and move somewhere else to give them privacy when Sanji’s voice pierced through the door.
Sanji
Hey, Mosshead! Don't be a creep and get in here.
Zoro flinches, and silently curses the blonde’s mastery of his observation haki. He doesn't want to make things look worse than it already is so he opens the door awkwardly. He's met by two pairs of eyes.
Sanji is leaning with his palms against the desk while Niji is sitting on the chair, fiddling with the blonde's claw gauntlet on the table. It looks like there's two now. From afar, Zoro could tell that their blades are longer, sharper and more dangerous than the last. The metallic scale armour that covered the glove is a new addition, having only just durable leather holding everything together before.
Niji
Spying on us, are we?
Zoro grits his teeth, throwing the blue-haired man an annoyed look.
Sanji
This is also his room, Commander.
Niji tuts disapprovingly then resumes his work on the claw gauntlet.
Zoro
I didn't want to interrupt. I’ll just head out for some fresh air.
Sanji
You didn't interrupt anything. The commander was just showing me his handiwork. He’ll be done soon! I just needed a couple of fitting adjustments done and we’re all set.
Niji
Hmm… no. Now that I think about it, this will take a bit longer than I thought. 
Sanji
What? But you said–
Niji
Whoops.
As if done on purpose, a buckle disassembles itself in Niji’s hands. Little bits of metal scatter on the desk.
Sanji
You’re such an ass. Fine. Stay here, hog the room. I don’t care. Let’s go, Marimo.
Niji
No, I need you to stay here so we can refit it. Because the buckle’s broken now.
Sanji
You broke it!
Niji
And I need to fix it but I can only do that if you’re here. So, stay.
Sanji
I will actually pluck your eyeballs out one of these days, Commander.
Sanji stomps out the door, grabbing Zoro’s arm along the way.
Niji
Where are you going? We need to get this done tonight before you head off first thing!
Sanji
I’ll be back!
Zoro and Sanji walk arm-in-arm quietly to the deck of the ship. They were met by Jean Bart who was about to tell off Zoro for being outside, but the blonde reassured the large man that he has eyes on him, promising to keep the grumbling swordsman out of trouble. Happy with the response, the Heart Pirate retires inside for the night.
Zoro
Isn’t the whole point of me being here is to keep an eye on you?
Sanji chuckled heartily–music to the swordsman’s ears.
Sanji
I know. What the hell happened to us?
They proceeded to the bow of the ship and settled themselves against the railing. It was quiet and serene. The crescent moon is up, revealing the dark silhouette of Jaya island on the horizon. Above, stars shone brightly across the span of the night sky–its reflections twinkled playfully on the still waters of the ocean below.
Sanji
You’re awfully quiet.
Zoro tears his gaze away from the scene. He looks next to him where the blonde has a hand wrapped around his arm and finishing a cigarette with the other.
Sanji
You usually are, but your silence is…louder somehow.
The swordsman rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Suddenly he’s not so sure what to say and how he’d ask the big question. He wanted to get this far tonight–tried many times to set up the scene better but to no avail. He also didn’t realise how he would feel right in the thick of things.
Zoro
There’s been a lot in my mind. Sorry.
Sanji
Never apologise for that…but whatever it is, I could tell that it’s eating you up.
Zoro sighs and returns his gaze to the island on the horizon.
Sanji
Is this because you had a fight with my brother?
Zoro’s eyebrows shoot up.
Zoro
Did he–?
Sanji
He didn’t have to. His helmet's busted and don’t think I haven’t noticed your little injury on your forehead, damn Mosshead. If you don’t take care of your head, how will you be able to photosynthesize?
Zoro scowls at the mockery.
Sanji laughs lightly, kissing the swordsman on the cheek as a way of reassuring him that it’s just a joke. After noticing that his attempt to release the tension didn’t work, he speaks in a slightly more serious tone.
Sanji
Did he try to scare you away? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all night?
Zoro shakes his head.
Sanji
Don’t freak out or anything but… you’re not the first that he’s done that to. I can tell him to back off if you want.
Zoro
No… it’ll take a lot more than that to get me to leave your side, Curls.
The blonde’s expression softens.
Zoro
Though, I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was trying to avoid you. I spent hours… ages… trying to plan this whole thing for us tonight but I feel like whatever I do…
The swordsman gets flashbacks of all the times he’d slashed and stabbed the man. He remembers cursing his way repeatedly for attempting to propose to him for the umpteenth time. He recalls their first kiss–how the first thing that came out of his mouth was to tell him to not kill the Celestial Dragon, and because of that, it nearly cost him his life. In fact, he might have permanently if not for their skillful doctor. He remembers the way the blonde held onto the liberated family from Sabaody. How, even in his critical condition, he fought from fully succumbing into sleep just to make sure that everyone was okay as they fled from the Pacifistas. 
And now, with a seemingly easy task of organising a romantic night, the swordsman can’t even do such a simple thing for him.
Zoro clenches his fists against the wooden railing.
Zoro
I can’t seem to do anything right by you…. I just feel like everything that I do is not good enough–or just flat out hurts you. And right now, I have nothing but myself to offer. For whatever that's worth.
Sanji
Zoro…
Zoro shifts so he’s looking at Sanji face to face then holds both of his hands in his, making the other man drop his cigarette. The determined fiery look in his eye makes the blonde jump in surprise.
Zoro
Curls, I want to get to know you better.
Sanji
Uh–sure!
Zoro
What’s your favourite food?
Sanji
Uhm… let’s see…
Zoro
If you had all the money in the world, where would you go?
Sanji
Oh Mellorine, I do have all the mon–
Zoro
How long does it take to get there?
Is that where you want to go for our first date?
Is shopping your thing? I'm not good with that stuff but I could ask Nami or Robin for advice.
If we’re going on holiday, can we do it alone first or would you prefer bringing your family along?
How many kids do you want to have?
Sanji
MARIMO!
Sanji thinks that he’s about to go crazy. His face is all red, he feels hot up to his ears and his heart is pounding so much like it's going to burst out of his chest. The swordsman’s sweetness and thoughtfulness overwhelms him with joy. He starts laughing out loud–in a way that he’s never laughed before, ignoring the slight ache from his recent surgery. He thinks that if he breaks stitches this way, so be it, because he’s never felt his chest so light and heart so full. He felt so happy that he could fly. 
The swordsman looked confused and offended from all the unhinged laughter like he was being made fun of.
Sanji cups Zoro’s face into his hands, trying his best to recover from his outburst.
Sanji
I didn’t realise that you needed to know everything now!
Zoro looks down to his lips, watching that attractive smile that he’s always drawn to.
Zoro
I just… I really wanted to… to…
Sanji pulls him in to claim his mouth with his. He pushes Zoro roughly against the railing, determined to show the swordsman how much he appreciates him at that very moment. He slides his hand up and down the man’s body, massaging, caressing and feeling everything that he could lay his hands on. He wants to show his love and admiration to the man by worshipping every part of him. Zoro was more than happy to reciprocate the affection.
They stayed like that for what seemed like a lifetime. Regrettably, Sanji pulls himself away from the most passionate kiss he's ever had in his life so he could breathe. He kept his body close as he panted.
Zoro leans in and continues his assault on his lips–biting and sucking hard then giving them soothing licks to ease the arousing pain–not wanting for everything to stop so soon. Between breaths, the blonde speaks.
Sanji
We have our entire lives to get to know one another…. What’s your rush, Marimo?
Zoro freezes at that, blinking his eye. Then for the first time that night, he smiles his genuine toothy smile.
Zoro
I guess we do, don’t we?
Sanji scoops up one of his rough hands and gives it a tender kiss on the calloused knuckles.
Sanji
I want to savour every moment of this–of us, okay? Right now, it’s just you, me… and this.
Sanji gestures at the scene in front of them, then swings his hand around to point out the environment surrounding them–the bright moon, the calm waters and the clear starry skies.
Sanji
Nothing else matters.
Zoro looks into his wide blue eyes. They're positively glowing a lot more so than usual tonight. He wraps his arms around the man and leans his forehead on his, kissing the bridge of his nose. The blonde was correct–nothing else mattered. It felt right to be there. In his heart, he decides to make it a mission to spend every waking moment to prove that he's worthy of his trust, even if it takes a lifetime for him to open up and tell him his real name. He would not demand it that day. He thinks that if he truly deserved it, the blonde will share it to him in time at his own volition. They do have a lifetime to get to know one another, after all.
The swordsman had lost a gamble with Nami that night. He’ll have to remember to send the navigator a couple hundred Beri through the post somehow for betting on him falling in love that year.
At a far distance, hidden in the thick mist of the sea, a particularly tall and lanky Warlord watches the blonde and his green-haired companion through the lens of his spyglass. With a flick of his wrist, he retracts the telescope and tosses it to a dark silhouette of a man.
Stranger
Now's the perfect time. Let’s do it.
Doflamingo
Hmm…no. I want to savour… every… moment of this….
He lets out a deep chuckle. 
Doflamingo
Besides, I have another job for you. But that’s tomorrow’s problem.
You are dismissed.
He waves off the man, and the figure walks off. Doflamingo stands from the comfort of his chair and takes a few long strides to the bow of the ship, never taking his eyes off the small dot on the horizon that is the Polar Tang.
Doflamingo
I’m grateful you showed us the way, Pirate King. You never fail me, do you?
…Sanji.
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I had way too much fun with those panel drawings. (Honestly part of it was me trying to find an excuse to draw more dofsan lol)
If it's not obvious yet, I try to line up certain things about this Sanji and canon Sanji. Instead of him being exclusively in love with mermaids, I like to think he loves all merfolk in this story.
Fukaboshi's always been the one on my mind as Sanji's "the one who got away" romance. I was rewatching Fish-man Island arc and I remembered how wise and noble he is, and has a great sense of responsibility to look after his family. I figured this Sanji would be attracted to those qualities.
Plus, you know, have you seen those big hands? Fwah~!
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escapewriter · 8 months ago
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caffe latte masterlist
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⤷ with school back in session, hongjoong thought he could finally distract himself with homework instead of his coupled up friends. however, things took a turn when he reluctantly agreed to go on a tinder date his friends set up.
pairing : student!hongjoong x student!reader
genre : smau, slice of life au, strangers to lovers, coffee shop au, college au, slow burn fs, tinder date, humor, fluff, angst
warnings : swearing, lying
status : ongoing
started : 7/25/24
ended : tba
updates : whenever i remember and have time
coffee house diaries masterlist || main masterlist
i won’t be doing a taglist because i don’t have time to tag so many people. i apologize if you were expecting one :(
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-> intro - profiles
-> part 1 - prince fucking charming
-> part 2 - a little nervous
-> part 3 - kinda fun
-> part 4 - maybe
-> part 5 - breathtaking
-> part 6 - i was forced
-> part 7 - spilled the beans
-> part 8 - maybe they forgot?
-> part 9 - news from our friend
-> part 10 - i cooked
-> part 11 - what elephant?
-> part 12 - i fear i may be obsessed with him
-> part 13 - quarter of a brain cell
-> part 14 - offline
-> part 15 - i am m
-> part 16 - see you again
-> part 17 - wooyoung staring at birds
-> part 18 - picnic splurge
-> part 19 - the room was read incorrectly
-> part 20 -
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smusherina · 10 months ago
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yard work - chapter 14 (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12 / chapter 13 / chapter 15
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You told Mrs George (or was it Ms George now? Too soon?) that you'd drive yourself to the school. Under no circumstance did you want to sit in close quarters to Regina. Besides, you knew she'd have to be there significantly earlier because she was performing. If the thought of being near Regina made you uncomfortable, that of being in that building made your skin crawl.
Why you were even bothering to go was beyond you. You'd been made into a laughing stock, a subject for people to talk about and twist around for the rest of the break. There was no PR response you could concoct to fix this, because for one, there was no time, and secondly nobody would want to hear it.
Maybe this wouldn't ruin your entire fucking life. Maybe you'd get over it eventually. Maybe it would all turn out fine. But it didn't feel like that. You could understand Regina more now, could see more clearly what she'd been talking about when she went on that rant.
Thinking all your problems would dissolve once you were old enough was stupid. That could only be applied to something vain, like pimples and pit stains and body odour. But issues like Regina's, utter self-hatred weaponized against society and everybody around her, and yours, chronic doormat syndrome with a side of people pleaser, could not just resolve. One could not pray the gay away, could not sweep it all under the rug.
You looked at the chicken sandwich in your hand. Mrs George had made some for lunch earlier and you'd swung by after the grocery trip to get you one. Then, she'd driven back to yours, helped you pack it all away, and made a weekly meal plan with you while you ate. It'd been nice. And the chicken sandwich was divine.
Your tummy was already full, but you didn't want to stop eating. You almost never got to really stuff yourself. The feeling of it was luxurious, though painful.
You put off going for as long as you could. You left at just the last minute, cutting it dangerously close. Didn't bother changing your clothes or anything. A hoodie and jeans, your usual jacket and scarf. By the time you arrived on the scene, the parking lot was pretty much deserted. You hustled to the gym where the thing was set up and easily found Mrs George and Kylie.
"C'mon, it's- it's- it's almost starting!" Kylie hissed at you, patting the seat next to her.
"Okay okay!" You whisper shouted back, mustering a little excitement for the little girl's sake.
Most of the performances were utterly dull. To be fair, the talent show was also an opportunity to get extra credit for some classes. Several people from your Spanish class took the stage. There was poetry and a couple songs, all mediocre at best. A pair performed a salsa number, which was surprising on two accounts. One, they were both dudes and two, they were good.
After Damien's dramatic rendition of Christina Aguilera's Beautiful, it was time for The Plastics to take the stage. Karen, Gretchen, and Cady were slowly revealed by the curtain. Cady stood front and centre, Gretchen to her left and Karen to the right.
Unlike many of the other dance performances of the night, the highlight was certainly not the choreography. The wow factor was hinged on the simple fact that it was them, specifically these girls, in latex, borderline slutty Santa costumes doing a provocative dance. The audience was not thrilled, the adults' reactions ranging from mildly uncomfortable to downright scandalized, while the other high schoolers looked on in either lust or disappointment that the act was missing the thing that had made it interesting in the first place.
Regina George had been the main attraction. Without her, without her effortless stage presence making the dance seem interesting, it was actually pretty embarrassing.
You had to look away when they started doing stunts. Karen went to the floor on all fours crab walk style, while Gretchen positioned herself behind her, and Cady geared up to- you couldn't watch. Suddenly, the music cut out and a heavy thump accompanied by someone's breath wooshing out of their lungs echoed through the gymnasium.
Kylie covered her mouth in a valiant effort not to laugh. You bumped your shoulder into hers. She bumped back. Mrs George had gasped and almost surged out of her seat. A beat of silence. Then, like water rippling, laughter began to bubble out of people.
You still couldn't watch. You could hear heels clicking on stage, groaning, and some frantic whispering. Kylie had tears in her eyes and her whole body was shaking.
"What's happening?" You whispered to her.
"Cady... She... Belly flopped the stage." She managed to get out before bursting into giggles.
"What? Is she, like, okay?"
"She's getting up. The principle's getting on stage." Kylie reported while you kept your eyes firmly on your lap. "He's gonna say something, oh, Gretchen's taking the mic-"
You had to look up when you heard your full name being spoken into the microphone, but regretted it as soon as Gretchen finished the sentence:
"-is a lesbian!" Quiet. Again.
You looked down so fast your neck cracked. Through the tinnitus in your ears, you could vaguely hear the principal admonishing Gretchen, the murmurs in the hall, their heels clicking off stage.
Why was Gretchen of all people announcing your sexuality at the talent show? What did she have to do with any of this? Maybe Regina had put her up to it. It didn't seem planned, though. You thought that Regina and Gretchen weren't talking.
"What's a lesbian?" Kylie asked you, all innocence and wide eyes.
"Kylie, don't ask that, it's not appropriate." Mrs George said.
"Why? Is it a bad word?" She turned to her mother. You took deep breaths and clenched your fists. Unclench. Clench. Everything was going to be fine.
"No, but it's not good to accuse somebody like that." Mrs George tried to explain gently, but you could tell she was out of her depth.
"But what does it mean?"
"Kylie, I said don't-"
"It means a girl that likes girls." You cut in.
"Huh... So like how boys like girls, but a girl likes a girl?"
"Yeah."
"Oh. Okay."
You would've paid so much money for it to be that simple. Why you couldn't be afforded the benefit of the doubt that you weren't a pervert, riddled with disease, and out to get people? Why was it so unbelievable that you didn't want to change the world, you just wanted to get married someday? Why did kissing girls on the mouth make you a predator?
You suspected there were no real answers to those questions. Fear. Repression. The patriarchy. Religion. The wage gap. Whatever.
The show went on. You felt numb. Realistically, what could you even do? Stand up and shout that it wasn't true? That would only serve to put a name to a face. The next talents came and performed their mediocrity to the mildly interested crowd. There was a pretty good sleight-of-hand magician. Somebody had trained their cat to do tricks.
Eventually, it was Regina's turn to take the stage. You couldn't help but perk up when they announced her. Mrs George was out of her seat immediately, kneeling on the pathway to the stage with a video camera poised to film her daughter.
The curtains parted. She stood in the centre of the stage, mic stand in front of her. She smiled a little, eyes on her mom presumably.
Her hair was done in soft waves, framing her face so beautifully. Natural makeup kept light, a compromise between the bare face that you liked and the full beat she was into. She was wearing an old white tee shirt, the logo so faded you could barely make it out. That had been your shirt, you realized as you narrowed your eyes. You'd gotten it from summer camp, one that Regina hadn't been able to come with you to. After you came back she'd confiscated all the stuff you'd gotten there. Tee shirts, crafts projects, a whittled duck, braided cord. You'd always assumed she had thrown it all in the trash. On her wrist was a braided leather cord and a wood bead friendship bracelet. She had on Lee jeans that hugged her hips and thighs exquisitely. Those had been her mom's.
In her hands was the photo album. Everybody could read the front, Reggie & Jorts.
"Notice me... Take my hand..." She crooned into the mic as the soft melody of Briney Spears' Everytime began to play.
"Why are we strangers when our love is strong? Why carry on without me?"
You felt like you couldn't breathe.
"And every time I try to fly I fall without my wings," Her eyes scanned the crowd. You wondered if she was looking for you. "I feel so small, I guess I need you, baby,"
She found you. Your eyes met, hers clear and blue and somehow so sad, even as she glittered up on stage. Even with everybody's eyes on her, she was looking at you.
"And every time I see you in my dreams, I see your face," She sang so prettily, every note like a gentle caress, a soothing balm to your ears. You did so love to hear her sing.
"It's haunting me. I guess I need you, baby," Her eyes closed, like she couldn't focus on two things at once; looking at you and singing. She swayed gently with the rhythm, feeling the soft instrumental in her feet. Sneakers. Simple, white sneakers.
Her eyes opened again with the next lyrics. You tried not to overthink it, tried not to imagine things that weren't there, but maybe there was a glassiness to her eyes that hadn't been there before.
"I make-believe, that you are here. It's the only way that I see clear. What have I done? You seem to move on easy."
You swallowed, eyes closing. You weren't sure what to think. Was this her way of apologizing? Was she trying to make up for what'd been said? Hadn't she just earlier today made your life living hell?
You leaned your elbows onto your knees and cradled your face in your hands. What were you supposed to do now? She was singing to you. This was the ultimate show of sincerity, of vulnerability, but what were you meant to do with it all in your hands? Your chest tightened and your breaths shortened.
The song continued, you knew the lyrics by heart, but only once she sang the next part did you open your eyes again.
"I may have made it rain, please forgive me. My weakness caused you pain, and this song's my sorry,"
You understood. Cowardly as it may have been, Regina was apologizing to you. Though the references were obscure enough that most, if not all, people would not know who she was singing to, it was quite clear this was a song for somebody.
You rubbed at your throat. It felt constricted, like something was tightening around it.
You couldn't shake the feeling that it was too late. As much as you would've liked to weep in gratitude, be swept in the relief that she was taking you back, irreversible things had happened. None of this made sense. If she hadn't pulled the stunt today then who had? Had she told somebody? Had Janis told?
Regardless, you were an outcast. If not, then ridiculed. You were scared. You had become a target. You didn't think anybody at Northshore was capable of the atrocities you saw reported on the news, but nobody who'd become a victim did until it was too late.
As it was, it didn't matter whether or not you forgave Regina. It didn't matter if she forgave you.
"I guess I need you, baby," As the last line of the song carried throughout the gymnasium, and after the split second of stunned silence before people began cheering and clapping, you got up and left.
You'd smoke a cigarette and get out of here once and for all. Then, you'd drive home and call dad. You'd tell him everything, tell him you needed to switch schools and that you were gay and that you'd made a real mess of things.
You'd take what was given, reap what'd been sown, and forget all about this goddamned town.
Forget all about Regina George.
Notes: Took a bit longer with this one. Sorry for the suspense! Here, have some more unresolved stuff! Also, I fucking love that song by Britney Spears. I've known Regina was gonna sing it for J since pretty much the beginning and finally, she did.
Taglist will be posted separately. If you want to be added to the list, please comment on that post! Thank you!
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bernardsbendystraws · 1 month ago
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Fresh Air
Matt Sturniolo x Reader
Check out my pinned post for more of my writing.
00 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 FINAL
Summary: One night at a party seems to change everything. A strange man with a friendly smile and a sleeve of patchwork tattoos seems to make you feel at home for a change. You're finally happy to have made a good friend to lean on - especially when it comes to your not-so-great relationship with your boyfriend. But what happens if you lean too much...what happens if you fall?
Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.
A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.
With love and big tits, Rose.
12: Sweet Gravity
wc: 1500+
Maybe I should’ve said no. When Matt asked me out on a true date, my heart stopped. But - we had already gone on a date technically, so what was the harm now? 
Shuffling through my clothes, I was facing the same issue as before. Nothing felt right. Even though I knew Matt like the back of my hand, the anxieties rushing through my mind kept weighing down more and more. 
|  From Matt: Are you almost ready? No rush, just wondering when I should come pick you up :)  |
Sighing, I type on the keyboard with reluctance. 
|  To Matt: Um kinda. Just struggling to pick out an outfit lol  | 
The texting bubbles on the screen reappearing make my stomach twist in knots. Should I have told him that? This is supposed to be our first date - he’s not my friend helping me get ready anymore. 
|  From Matt: I’ll come over and help? If that’s okay with you?  |
He wants to help. He always wants to help. And who was I to say no?
|  To Matt:  yes please  | 
A smile spreads across my face, relief flooding my system as he lets me know he’s on his way. I look around the room, wincing at the mess of clothes scattered across the bed and floor. My hands hurriedly grasp onto the different tops and jeans, rushedly pushing the back into their designated spots. 
It would only take Matt a couple minutes to drive over. I didn’t want him to see how much of a mess I had made, based on the fact that I was overthinking so much, but I just couldn’t help it. This going perfect felt like a dream come true. 
Even though it felt like a nightmare to remember reality. 
Cheaters were awful people - and I was one of them. Even if it wasn’t just one sided, how could I stoop so low? There were signs. I always wanted to be around Matt, even Hayden knew something deeper was going on. He called me out on it and I ignored it. And maybe that was on purpose. 
Before I have any more time to sink in pity, I hear three soft knocks on the door. Matt. I take one last glance around my room. Good enough. At least I could see the floor now.
Taking steps towards the door, I open the door to find Matt standing with his hands behind his back. My head cocks curiously as he stares at me with a mischievous glance. 
“Hey?” I question, laughing as he stays planted in place. 
Matt bites on his lip, maneuvering his hands to the front. A slight gasp purses through my lips as I see the small bouquet of flowers come into view. He got me flowers. When was the last time I even got flowers? 
“These are for you,” he says, pushing them forward into my hands. 
Taking the bundle of florals, I smile at the fresh scent. I can’t believe he got me flowers. 
“Matt,” I gasp, looking up at him with a soft smile, “-you didn’t have to get me flowers, oh my god.” Stepping to the side, I allow him room to waltz in. I shut the door, still admiring the petals beneath my nose as I hear him slide his shoes off. 
“I know, I know. But,” he grabs the bouquet from my hand, walking over to the kitchen and pulling down a vase - a vase he had gotten for me when we went thrifting together. Piling the flowers neatly inside, he sets them on the counter, looking down at me with a glimmer of admiration. “I, um, I’ve always wanted to. I was just, I don’t know…scared of overstepping?” 
Something in the pit of my gut lurches to my chest. Fluttering waves of excitement rush through me, my teeth biting down into my lip hard as I try to remain calm. I just wanna jump in his arms. 
“Oh,” I breath out, suddenly breathless as he inches towards me even closer, his eyes peering into mine with intensity as I feel his nose brush against the tip of my own. 
Fuck. 
“I’m not overstepping?” he asks, his voice rough and strained. 
I swallow thickly, shaking my head subtly. His hand reaches onto my hip. My eyes widen as I realize just how close he is. I want him to kiss me. So bad. 
Starting to let myself give in, I keep leaning forward. This was finally it. I’d finally know what it feels like to have his lips on mine. Would it feel as good as I had imagined? 
His hand squeezes on my hip. Matt leans backward, my heart sinking in my chest. 
He pulled away. He didn’t wanna kiss me. 
“Let’s go get you ready, yeah?” 
Nodding my head softly, I try to keep a blank expression. 
“I, uh - yeah…yeah..” 
Why didn’t he wanna kiss me?
___
I kept forgetting about the almost-kiss. And then I kept remembering it. Over and over and fucking over again. 
Matt was sweet. Everything about him screamed that he wanted this just as bad as I did. After a short drive, he had taken us to the beach. It wasn’t a very popular one. A sore sight of a rusted swing set and a lack of parking spots made this place deserted. 
He had packed a bunch of my favorite snacks. Including Lunchables. 
About a month into our friendship, we were at the grocery store, picking up snacks for a movie night. We passed the Lunchables. Matt had explained how Chris always wanted the mini pizza one, but he always wanted the other ones. 
“I’ve never had one.” 
The statement made his jaw drop. He insisted on getting every type, letting me try all of them. And I loved them. 
I loved the food almost as much as I loved the memory. 
Waves crashing and salt air. The blanket beneath us is a thin shield from the cold sand. Luckily, the outfit he helped me pick was doing a good job protecting me from the cool breeze. It was simple. Jeans and a cardigan, a cardigan he had let me borrow ages ago that I forgot to return. 
Honestly, I had forgotten it wasn’t mine to begin with. I’d never seen him wear the green dinosaur sweater, but I bet he’d look cute. 
“Thanks for doing all this.” I remark. 
Matt looks over at me, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my cheek softly. “Anytime,” he breathes. 
His lips. The almost-kiss. Why did he pull away? I sit up straighter. Matt’s arm slung around my shoulder gets stiffer as he feels me readjust. “You okay?” he asks. 
“Yeah.” 
I don't even believe it. My words are blunt and dull, the weight of my shoulders tugging down even more as I feel him hug me tighter, reaching his other arm to grab my hand and clutch it gently.
He’s holding me so delicately. It almost makes me forget why I feel so drained. 
Almost. 
“Hey, what’s up? Talk to me,” he urges, softly pressing his lips to my knuckles. 
A deep sigh purses through my lips. I look over at him, my eyes feeling heavy as my eyebrows knit together. “I just…earlier - I…” Matt squeezes my hand tighter, rubbing his thumb along the back of my palm, “-why didn’t you kiss me? Do you…do you not want to?” 
Dry laughs echo through the air. I curl into myself, my heart tugging in my chest as I curl my knees up to his chest. Matt stops abruptly. His hand holding mine drops to the top of my knee, his eyes dazing into mine with an apologetic glance. 
“Hey, hey,” he soothes, rubbing his hand over my thigh, “-I want to kiss you, I really do-”
“Then why didn’t you?” 
Matt sighs deeply. He looks out to the ocean before trailing his eyes back to me. I feel his hand move, lifting from my knee and cupping my cheek. “I…” 
His words catch on his tongue. The warmth of his palm cupping my jaw makes my body relax as I let myself lean into his touch. “Tell me,” I urge.
Shifting to face his body directly towards mine, he puts each of his hands on either of my cheeks. I feel my eyes water. So many emotions are rushing through my system and the way he’s looking into me only makes it so intense. I should be panicking, but the way he’s staring at me makes me feel calm. Dangerously calm. 
“I…I don’t wanna fuck this up.” His statement makes my face crinkle with confusion. “Just - even the flowers. You deserve something special, I just…I don’t wanna rush things. You...you deserve it all.” 
Oh.
The semi-bitter feeling turns into tooth-rotting sweetness. 
I can feel the sunsetting emit a soft glow, curing the soft blow of wind with a gentle warmth. His eyes only aid the soothing sensation, igniting a peaceful heat from inside of my chest, making my body feel dizzy and light. 
No bed could amount to the comfort he brought. The energy between us seems to muddle into a wishful beckoning - one that makes my eyes water with an overwhelming, fragile gravity. It’s so easy to fall. It’s so easy to let go.
It’s just so sweet.
A/N: Thank you for reading. Any interaction is appreciated!!! Let me know your thoughts! I’m sorry I love edging sm <\3
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obscuretobyfox · 6 months ago
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The recent UNDERTALE/DELTARUNE Newsletter revealed a ton of concept art for enemies, done by Splendidland! There's way too much to make individual posts on, so I'll just post all the art with notes here!
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"My friend Samanthuel (aka Splendidland) did a ton of concept art for Chapter 2! Sadly I couldn't use all of it because many of the concepts didn't end up aligning with my final vision for the game, but the designs themselves are super amazing! I'm thankful I got to use any of them.
Specifically I really wanted to use the paint enemy as a miniboss, since I thought it would be really fun mechanic.
Below were her notes on all of them! She also provided ideas on how she thought they could be used." - Toby Fox
"I was given the broad theme of "cyber world" and told to pretty much just design whatever I wanted, expecting only a handful to actually make it in. I made all of these within a couple days, just making whatever came to my mind." - Splendidland
(From here on out, all quotes are from Splendidland.)
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"01: Hacker Guy (idk what their name is), wants to discover the secrets of the world and has special abilities, though they aren't aware of them. "Hacks" by randomly smashing keys and even swinging their mouse around in the air, could keep escalating in silly ways.
02: Handsome Face...
03: When they stand over a spot that can be "hacked into", their cursor shaped head turns into a pointing finger. They don't notice this change, so it's up to you, the player, to help them."
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"04: heheh....
05: Funny Egg, their body contains a virtual pet. Can the fate of this pet be altered? Maybe not... Has an existential crisis if the pet dies, as their body is a battleground of life and death.
06 :Broken Image, their life is in ruins
07: Recycle Bin
08: Trash Fly, represents uncollected "garbage data"
09: Kiss-kiss"
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"10: Painter, would basically be like Adeleine but with crude ms paint effects, especially the airbrush."
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"11: Diskette, spins in place until talked to. "despite my looks, i am totally unable to save your progress"
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"12: some kind of "internet" thing idk
13: "Data", little icon like creatures who march onwards with unknown purpose. they take part in the festival."
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"14: Popup. hides underneath a tile and springs upwards annoyingly. touching its forehead makes it return underground temporarily. a pest."
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"15: Virus, its head sways back and forth as it tries to hover in the air."
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"16:Anti Virus, is it a cop or a doctor? maybe they see you as an enemy as you're an "outsider"?
17:Corrupted data or something"
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"18:"Cyber World", a rough vision of what a world inside a computer could look like
19:Cyber House"
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"20: Masked Dancers, they participate in the festival, each colour has a different movement pattern and dance style. very rough concept" Which one is your favorite? Mine is probably the tiny data creatures!
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