#as always when i try to do something to commemorate something it never turns out the way i first expected

[khaopybara]

september 3rd, 1998, everyone's favorite boba eyed blorbo was born.

[saucingitup]

Kraken broadcaster JT Brown shares why Pride is so important to him and why he’ll be celebrating the LGBTQ+ community all month long

June is an exciting month. There’s Stanley Cup final hockey on the TV, the sun is shining down on Seattle, I hit the links on Father’s Day, and it's Pride month—a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQ+ community and commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan. In our house, June is a busy month, but nothing gets celebrated harder than Pride.

Earlier this month, I had the honor of playing in the Seattle Pride Classic at the Kraken Community Iceplex. The invitation to share the ice with LGBTQ+ players from all over is an honor I don’t take lightly. Striking up a conversation on the bench between shifts, I turned to the player next to me. “Nice tape job. Canucks fan?” I said, noting the different colors of tape spiraling down the blade. “No, these colors represent one of the queer flags,” they said.

The bad news is I felt like an idiot. The good news is, I’ll always recognize that flag. Trying means stumbling, losing the puck, shooting wide (pick your analogy), but I’ve never been too proud to admit I caused the turnover and apologize. And we both laughed because sometimes falling on your ass is funny.

From ice to asphalt, the Pride celebration continues as my family and I will be at the 50th annual Seattle Pride Parade on June 30. As someone who is known for their flair for flashy game-day suits, it should not come as a surprise that I love an excuse to get dressed up. Throw in good music and free swag and you’ll understand why I don’t miss a pride parade.

And no one does pride quite like Seattle. It’s no wonder the Kraken pull up to the parade every year with a crew so deep I momentarily worry we’re going to hold up the parade. We’re out there flinging Kraken giveaways like someone is keeping score of how many each employee can hand out—I always aim for the high score.

Of course, being an ally isn't just flinging Kraken patches into a crowd or embarrassingly mistaking flag colors for rival team branding. A lot of it is just showing up.

I show up for my queer wife so she knows I support her even if I still don’t understand what “Brat summer” means. I show up for my kids so they know I love their authentic selves no matter what. I show up for my friends so they know they’re safe with me. I show up because there are LGBTQ+ people out there who are being stood up by the ones they love, by policies, by corporations, by strangers.

People always praise me for being an ally, but having been on the receiving end of bigotry, I know how much easier it is to stand on this side. When I fight for BIPOC equality, I am always lifted by the voices and support of the LGBTQ+ community. Every single time, they have supported me in my fight to help end racism in hockey.

They have been incredible teammates to me and so being one to them was never a choice I made, it was just something I did—and will continue to do with whatever platform I’m given. Everyone deserves the safety and support to live their authentic lives. When we lift up those who need us most, we all reap the benefits of a safer and more inclusive space.

This Pride month, I’d like to encourage others to show up—unabashedly loud and proud—for yourself and for others. Have a happy, safe, and fun Pride!

[hisui-dreamer]

aaaaah my heart died of tenderness with rook's hdcns with lipstick buuut now I beg you plss ;u; I need one the same but with vil schoenheit plsss ksjsks I also want to fill vil's face with kisses (/ u \)

the queen's markings

Pairing: Vil Schoenheit x gn!reader

Synopsis: he wouldn't lose a competition in something he's an expert in, but it's more fun than he expected

Tags: established relationship, kissing, lipstick marks, crack, bot proofread

Word count: 491

Notes: happy birthday @v-anrouge! i hope this vil fluff brightens your day aster, thank you for always bringing fun energy into my feed hahaha (⁠���⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

rook's part here!✧Masterlist

The rules are simple: you would take turns with a one-minute timeframe to shower the other with kisses and leave lipstick marks behind. The one who leaves the most marks by the end of the game would win.

really??? that's such a messy idea?? and you're just making a mess that you'll have to clean up later

if you wanted to kiss him, you should've just said so ;)

Vil doesn't really get the appeal when you tell him the idea

but once he agrees, as with everything, he's very meticulous about it, deliberately choosing the perfect lipstick that would transfer well and match your skin tone

he wears makeup so often, he's basically an expert in the transferability and durability of makeup

only usually he's trying not to get his lipstick smeared

but when it's your turn, he can't deny he enjoys having you place kiss after kiss on him

though the stickiness of the lipstick is a bit messy, he loves the warmth of your breath against his skin, accompanied by the gentle touch of their lips

there's a proud smile on his face as you litter his face with kisses

surprisingly, the game is really relaxing, although he could really do without the messiness

when it's his turn, his posture straightens slightly while he scans your face to see where to start with each delicate touch of his lips, he strategically places precise and vibrant lipstick marks, ensuring maximum impact and coverage

he pays attention to every detail, from the angle of his kisses to the intensity of his affection

he moves swiftly, yet with calculated precision, ensuring that no spot on your face is left untouched

aaand ding ding! when times up, he steps back a bit, his chest rising and falling with a mixture of excitement and satisfaction as he admires your flushed face

he shouldn't find it attractive really, it's messy and sticky and gosh he hopes it doesn't leave a stain, but he can't deny how satisfied he feels having so thoroughly marked you, and how alluring you look in the moment

the two of you definitely take pictures together to commemorate

he's never going to show anyone this picture, he's the only one who can see how beautiful you are

he's very likely to win, he knows the ins and outs of his makeup, so he definitely has an advantage there

okay, it's cleansing time

if you clean your face properly, he'll pamper you with a little skin care/spa session

"Darling, if you desired my kisses, a direct request would have sufficed," Vil smiles teasingly, tilting your cheek upwards. "I suppose I can partake in this game, but I don't quite understand the appeal."

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you covered in his meticulously placed lipstick marks, a mix of pride and affection evident in his expression. "Ah, my dear, you wear my affection so well," Vil murmurs, his voice infused with a sense of satisfaction.

"Now, it is imperative that we clean up properly. It is essential in maintaining the health and radiance of our skin," he says, his voice carrying an air of authority. "Come, I prepared some face masks for us to enjoy."

rook's part here!✧Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[ysljoon]

john price dad headcannons

wc: 1.3k warnings: fluff, angst, feelings of abandonment, found family trope, afab reader, inaccurate descriptions of adoption, tf141 cameo a/n: i have been going thorugh it ya'll and i just needed something self indulgent, but pt 2 for roommate konig is coming soon! MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

Price knew he wanted to be a dad from his early twenties, but he felt like a partner was off the table due to his line of work

He was so wary of adoption because if a partner wasn’t an option for him how would he feel about abandoning a child???

Nonetheless Price knew what he wanted in life and a child was all he needed and more

He started the adoption process once he turned 30

Oh man when he saw you for the first time he knew in his heart that he would give you the world! You had that man wrapped around your little finger before you even knew it

You had been in the foster system since you were 4 years old and you had just turned 10 around the time the time that Price was interested in adopting

Needless to say it was more and more disheartening as the years went on and nobody was interested in making you part of their family especially since you were now on the older side

The day that Price had come in and the social work case manager had come in to tell you that the man wanted to see you, oh your heart was beating a 100 miles a minute trying to culminate the best strategy to make the best first impression

The social case work manager left you two alone to get comfortable and feel out how the two of you would get along

Price is embarrassed to this day about how nervous he was to talk to a 10 year old LMAO he was sweating

You guys got along great in no time and there were wholesome laughs for the whole hour

Right before he left he gave you a pat on your head and said “I’m coming right back for you sweetheart, just you wait.”

And man did you wait

Two months to be exact and it was a devastating feeling 

You felt abandoned again and it hurt even more since you thought you really found a forever home

Once he finally did come back you just couldn’t hold back the tears and you wrapped your arms around his torso and refused to let go until the social worker has to pry you off so Price could proceed with the paperwork

Two weeks after that is when you officially moved into his home and you were vibrating with excitement in the backseat the whole car ride

He scooped you up from the backseat and piggybacked you into the home and your eyes were glimmering both from tears and from how happy you were to have a place called home

Price commemorated your first day home with a selfie of you two make silly faces and his bucket hat placed on your head that was much too big on you

He printed that picture immediately to put it on the fridge

Price was a superstellar dad for you

(You were a little bit spoiled, but Price would never admit to that)

He would watch youtube videos on how to do different hairstyles for you, he tried to attend all your sports competitions, and was there for your first orchestra recital!

The first time you properly called him dad instead of John was when he came to see your flute solo that you had in your sixth grade winter concert

Once you were done you frantically left backstage to look for him and he snuck up behind you to pick you up into a bear hug

He brought a bouquet of flowers for you and placed a kiss on the top of your head

“I’m so proud of you sweetheart.” Oh man did that open the floodgates for you 

You hugged him so tight and it was muffled into his shirt but Price would hear it as clear as day: “I love you so much dad. Thanks for everything.”

The both you were sniveling messes the whole way home that night 

Though when he did miss your school and extracurricular events there was always stung a bit more than you would care to admit

He would always apologize to you about his work duties and then leave you in the care of a trusted, live-in babysitter

It got even more annoying as you got older because he was very secretive about his job and never disclosed anything he did and you just wanted to know something

What does he do that makes him gone for weeks to MONTHS at a time???

The first time you met Task Force 141 was an accident and it was when you were 16

You were home after school hanging out with Price watching movies and was waiting for pizza to come

Once he heard the knock on the door he went to go get it, but he was taking a lot longer than expected and your stomach was starting to hurt from how hungry you were

“Dad, what's taking so long with the pizza?”

You reached the foyer and saw three very large men standing at the door and one of them was wearing a mask (???)

“Who are these people, dad? Am I Interrupting something?” You had a very weary eye on them and took a step back

They all looked at you then each other with the widest eyes and Price just stood there letting out the biggest sigh

“Boys, this is my daughter. Sweetheart this is Gaz, Ghost, and Soap.”

Oh these people were weird 

The two unmasked ones were grinning at you and the masked one was looking at you with such a scrutinizing look and it made you squirm

You quickly made it over to your dad and got on your tippy toes to whisper something in his ear 

“Dad, you have weird friends. I don’t like them at all.” He let out a cough that you’re pretty sure was used to cover up a laugh 

“They’re also my…coworkers.”

This made you raise your eyebrow out of curiosity

“I see…so what is it that you guys do?”

The one with the mohawk was about to speak until Price told you to wait in your room until him and his coworkers were done speaking

You sighed and locked yourself upstairs

“Mates, I want not a single word uttered about this in the slightest.” He pointed a firm finger at each of the men

“What’s the lassie’s name at least?”

“Y/N, Mactavish now leave it alone!”

Needless to say Soap nor the rest of the 141 left it alone and you practically became their little sister

They watched you grow up and were there for the night of your prom

They scared the piss out of your date and you got so angry

Your dad escorted them all inside to let you have privacy with your date

Price mostly rushed inside because he was about to start tearing up and he didn't want you to see him cry

They were there at your high school graduation too and you have a framed picture on your desk of all of them with big smiles holding you close with your diploma in hand

Now that you're in college it’s a lot harder to be away from them and especially your dad and there are nights where you just stare at the ceiling and clutch the stuffed teddy bear Price got you when you were younger and just look forward to when you’ll see them again

They try and make visits at least once every 2-3 months and it’s never boring whenever they come

Gaz and Soap try and gossip with you about any new boys you’ve met in college and Price likes to act uninterested but you know he has his ear angled in the direction of all three of you to see what you say

No matter the distance you know you have your forever family and they are your home no matter where you are or where they are.

[mactavishwritings]

Fresh Ink part two

Ghost x Tattoo Artist!Reader

No matter what happens to him, he always comes home

tw: tattoo needles and slight arguing

this one will primarily be from ghost's pov. will switch to reader's pov occassionally. this one is also slightly longer!

part one | part two |part three | part four

The days leading up to the 29th dragged on and on. Ghost couldn't wait to get back into your little shop. Price made fun of him slightly, "I told you that it would become an addiction soon."

The day before the team was suppose to be sent home and Ghost could get his next piece was the final piece of the mission they were on. It should've been so simple, but fucking Graves had to go and throw everything away.

Ghost pictured you sitting in your little chair, waiting for him. He wanted to call or something, but he couldn't. He was stuck in the middle of Mexico, directing Soap to a church. He knew you understood because for active duty soldiers, you did not have a cancelation policy. He always thought it was so sweet that you would do that.

Sitting around a table with the rest of the ghost team, they plotted their next mission. "After this, we should commemorate this shit. We should get little tattoos or somethin'." Soap joked and the team laughed. "We could go to Ghost's girl. She does a fantastic job on him." Price sent a wink Ghost's way and he felt himself tense. The thought of sharing you with the rest of the team made him feel jealous.

He didn't want to share your softness. He didn't want to share your kindness or your artistry. He refuse to allow the others to be tattooed by you, but it was your job; your livelihood. How dare he take that from you.

Ghost nodded. "Considering I was suppose to see her a month ago for my next piece, maybe she can fit all of us in."

You were laying in your bed when your phone started ringing. You were up late like usual, drawing the next day's appointments. You picked up your phone and noticed it was a number you didn't have saved. You usually allowed your clients to give your number out to their friends so it may have been the case.

"Hey this is (Y/N). If this is regarding a tattoo, can you please call again at a better time. It is 2am." You said into your phone, trying to be as polite as you could muster at this hour.

"Why are you up then? Shouldn't you be asleep?" You heard a familiar British voice ask in response and you smiled.

"I was starting to think I offended you or maybe you died. What's up, Simon?" You asked, putting your tablet down. You could hear other voices in the background. You guessed that he was still on the mission that caused him to miss the last appointment he had with you.

"I'm sorry for missing that appointment. Do you think you could possibly tattoo me and my buddies? We wanna get dumb matching tattoos?" While on the surface, it sounded like he hated the idea, but you could tell that he secretly really loved it. He had told you previously about how some of his tattoos were dedicated towards old team members of his who had passed.

"Sounds good to me. You and I can work out a day to continue your sleeve. For this group piece, wanna do like four weeks out? I don't have the book with me. I do know I should be free 'bout a month out." You slightly rambled.

Ghost smiled, nodding along to your words. "Yeah sounds good to me. I can just text you when we get back?" Ghost picked at his thumb again, feeling nervous that you would tell him to keep your relationship more on the business side. "Yeah of course. Now I have your number so I can text you shit about your tattoos." He could tell that you were beaming. He felt his shoulders relax at the thought.

Soap elbowed Ghost and started snickering. "Ghost is in looooove." Ghost quickly thanked you and you two said your goodbyes before Ghost turned to Soap. "I have never seen you so flustered, L.T." Soap leaned forward on his elbows, sighing dreamily. "Shut it."

-

A few weeks had gone by and Ghost opened the door for your shop. The rest of the team followed him inside, all looking around curiously. Ghost nodded at your receptionist. "(Y/N) in? I actually have an appointment for once." Emma smiled at the group. "Course. Let me grab her. Any of you boys need anything? Water, snacks?"

Soon Emma brought you out as well as some snacks and water. You smiled brightly at Ghost and threw your arms around him. "I'm glad you made it back safely. I worked hard on your half-sleeve!" You laughed.

"Price! How's it been? Lemme see the tat. I wanna see how it healed." You moved on to greet Price and Ghost stepped back, allowing you to greet the team. Soon you led the group back to your room.

Since he had been there last, Ghost noticed that you added a few more couches and just general sitting place. He took the one closest to your usual chair, Soap sitting next to him on the coach, Gaz sitting on the tattooing chair, and Price sat on a bench next to the tattooing chair. "Right boys. Let me know what you guys think. I've been doodling." You smiled and flipped your tablet around to show your designs.

Immediately, Ghost smiled. Most of the designs were serious; Skulls similar to his mask, actual grave markers with dog tags, guns shooting out a ghost. Then there were non serious ones; a cartoon ghost, a small group of ghosts who were holding baseball bats. The guys looked over the designs, all smiling and laughing.

"This is some good shit." Soap looked up at you as you were prepping your work station. "Thank you. I work hard for my favorite client." You nodded your head towards Ghost. Thank god he had his mask on because Ghost felt his face heat up. Soap reached over and nudged Ghost.

Price rolled his eyes and grabbed the tablet from Gaz. "I think we all like the design with the gun shooting out the ghost. I do want you to explain the baseball bats." Price looked in your direction. "Ghost team. Baseball team. Therefore, Ghost sports team. Duh. Alright who's first!" You responded, causing the room to erupt into laughter.

You printed out all the stencils and got them all placed on the boys. Price decided to go first and you got his tattoo done quick. It was a relatively simple design so it wasn't had to get done. Ghost was never able to watch you tattoo from this side before. He was always the one being tattoo, not the watcher. Your arms flexed with each line you created. Your eyes squinted when you concentrated. He felt himself relax in your presence like he did every time he heard the hum of your machine.

Gaz was next. He was the only one in the group who did not have a tattoo. "Is it gonna hurt?" He looked at you with big eyes and the rest of the group rolled their eyes. "Dude, you've been shot before. Grow up." Soap groaned. You laughed and started on Gaz's tattoo. Ghost felt himself tense as Gaz tried to get you to comfort him. It was clear the young man was flirting with you.

After you finished Gaz, Soap plopped down and looked at you. "How many do you have? Tattoos I mean." Ghost was thrown off. He had never thought to ask you. He was sure you had tons that had many deep meanings. "Well, I have two full sleeves. I also have a sternum, a few on my rips, I got two matching pieces on both thighs, and some on my back." You recounted. Ghost had seen most of the ones on your arms. When he first came to you, it helped make him feel at home to see that you were somewhat tatted.

Finally, it was Ghost's turn. He decided to put his piece behind his ear, close to his hairline. Each of the boys had picked different spots and this was an intimate spot for him. You adjusted the tattoo chair and patted it. "Alright, your turn." Ghost lied on his back and turned his head. He lifted his mask up enough so you could tattoo the spot, but didn't reveal his face. You placed a hand on his head softly, running a thumb over his forehead. You started on the tattoo and while the hum of the machine was loud, he could still hear Gaz flirting with you.

Ghost clenched his jaw and slightly adjusted his position, not wanting to mess you up. You suddenly also moved to block his view of the team and your hand rest on his jaw. Once you started tattooing again, he heard you whisper something. "Relax, Simon. He's just messing."

The way you tattooed the rest of the team compared to him was completely different. You were gentle with him. You held him softly in a way that no one had before. He had never felt such softness before and he wanted to keep you to himself. He could feel himself falling.

He could feel himself falling in love with you. Hard.

-

Ghost's appointment to continue his sleeve came and he actually was able to make it to this one. He had stopped at the local coffee shop before his appointment to grab your favorite coffee. After the team tattoo, the two of you started talking more. First, it was to plan out his sleeves, but now the lines between professional business had blurred.

Emma smiled when he arrived. "Coffee? Someone's really trying to impress her." She sent the man a wink before nodding back to your room. "She's already back there. Go ahead, Ghost." He nodded at her before heading back to your room. You had just put up curtains, after asking for his advice. He was glad you did, made the room a little more private.

He stepped into the room and smiled. You had a stick of incense burning, leaving a warm feeling in Ghost's stomach. You weren't facing him, in your own world. You had music softly playing and were nodding along to it. You were wearing a pair of black jeans that you had cuffed, a black short sleeve shirt that showed off your tattoos, and a pair of black shoes. You soon turned and noticed Ghost standing at the door.

"Si! Is that coffee?" Your eyes soften as you accepted the cup from him. "You're a life saver. I'll have this after so I'm not shakin' with the machine." You put the cup off to the side and gave Simon a hug. He wrapped his arms around you and all the tension melted away. You tended to have that affect on him.

"Ready to get started?" You adjusted the tattoo chair for him as he sat down. He pulled his sleeve up so you'd have full access. He nodded, looking over at your station. You had the stencil already printed out, ready to be fitted. You lifted it up and started fitting the stencil, cutting small dents into curves to fit his biceps.

"Feeling better?" You asked casually, causing him to look at you confused. "Last time you were in, looked like you were gonna rip the little one's head off."

"Oh..Gaz. I don't know what you mean." Ghost immediately got defensive. You looked at him with an unconvinced glare. "Simon. I'm gonna let this stencil dry and you are gonna sit here and tell me why you almost killed your teammate for flirting with me."

You sat back in your chair and prepped the ink. He looked at you, terrified that he was going to have to admit his feelings. He didn't want the one constant kindness to be ripped from him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want him to make you uncomfortable." He said flatly. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him. "Sure. Cause I was the uncomfortable one."

A silence fell over the room as the stencil finished drying. Ghost watched your movements carefully. He could tell you had a lot on your mind, a lot you wanted to say. As you sat back down and grabbed your gun, he sighed and turned his head away from you. "I'm sorry. I didn't like him flirting with you."

He saw you nod to yourself out of the corner of his eye. "Thank you. Why didn't you like that?" You asked as you leaned closer to him, starting to tattoo him. "Who are you? My therapist?" You smiled again and looked at him. "In a way. You're always relaxed with me. Expect for that day. I wanna know why. If it's what I think it is, then okay."

"What do you think it is then, little miss therapist?" Ghost turned his head towards you. He knew that you could break him down with a single glance and no one else in the world could do that. He would let you though.

"I think you like me. I think that you don't want to share me, because no one has giving this kindness before so you don't want to share." You said it so casually as if it was your coffee order. "Am I right?"

Ghost remained silent, not wanting to confirm for you out loud that you were correct. "It's okay Simon. I don't let all my client have my personal number to text whenever they want. I really like you too, so it's fine that you don't want Gaz to flirt with what's already yours." Your focus then went back to the tattoo.

Ghost was taken aback. He had always been so afraid to be so vulnerable, but around you, it came so naturally. He wanted to show you every side of him. He reached up and slowly pealed the mask off his face.

"Can I kiss you?"

[whirlybirbs]

Ghost x reader for da people (the people is me)

; — controlled burn | simon "ghost" riley

summary: he isn't used to communing with ghosts. pairing: simon "ghost" riley / gender neutral!reader tags: no warnings, but may i offer spiteful ex-lovers anyone? a/n: 1.) lee i am sorry this is bad. 2.) everyone it's been a moment since i have written so i owe you all the biggest sowwies. anyways, who knew in 2022 everything would come full circle with me writing for the first man i ever really wrote fanfiction for, i love this ghost daddy hype moment

Laswell isn't expecting you to say yes, but favors owed are thicker than blood when it comes to this line of work. 

I don't do contract work anymore, Kate, you'd told her adamantly in the quiet of your office, I never liked living in the grey.

And yet, you're here; you're sat beside her in the heli as the bird dips low on the horizon line and begins to kick up plumes of dust in the night air. Sand whips around the spotlights illuminating the landing strip, and as the shroud parts, Kate can see there are gathered men ready to welcome the two of them. 

Your eyes flick across the tarmac. Even here — in the chopper, as you yank your headset free and gather your bag — you can feel eyes pinning you in place. Like a lone rabbit spotted by a waiting wolf. Eyes are watching in the darkness. Something stalks in your peripherals. 

And as eerie as it is, it's familiar. Like coming home.

A dust devil passes as touch down settles, and in the calm stillness of that single moment, you see him:

Ghost.  

You never did like living in the grey — and Simon knew damn well his whole life was bleeding out in shades of it. He's no longer sharply forged in the fires of morality; maybe one day he was, one day when he was younger. When there was less gilded, war-dazzled weight to his dress uniform's breast. When there was less grey in the unruly blonde buzz beneath his balaclava, when he had fewer starlight scars commemorating brutality etched into his skin. 

His righteousness is dulled now; but still efficient, still violent, still lethal. Simon sacrificed morality long ago when he fled that forge in favor of getting the fucking job done. Sacrifices had to be made. Every action had an equal and opposite reaction. 

He knows he isn't a good man.

You always did deserve good. 

Honest. 

Those owlish, dark eyes watch you greet Price. Gaz is excitable, Soap is impressed. He unwavers, hand on his holstered pistol and the other picking the skin of his thumb. 

Behind the balaclava, there's tension. But, when you turn and slip your eyes along the chipped skull face-plate, the hardness slips away. He catches it. Like a moment where Simon is back and he isn't the man in the mask. 

"Good to see you," he says in a voice quieter than a whisper.

You only nod.

In the debrief room, he continues his quiet watching. Ghost watches you listen, and he watches you pick at your bottom lip like you always do when you concentrate. 

Across the room, Soap slides him a subtle, questioning look. Ghost doesn't even flinch. The hardness stays. 

Pay attention, says his volleyed glare. 

Simon tries to forget the way you always did favor peppermint lip balm. 

When you finally speak, in that dimly lit room, the sound of your voice reminds Simon of the sting of a bullet graze. It's like the ricochet of a searing hot caliber biting soft flesh. 

Suddenly, Simon is twenty-seven again and in love. 

He fucking hates himself for it.

He's trying to kick his smoke habit — bad on the lungs. 

But, tonight he doesn't give a damn because the nicotine isn’t the only thing making his hands shake and letting the flame lick his fingers feels fine. A controlled burn. 

He isn't used to communing with old ghosts.

But, you're back in the grey.

[yanderu-deredere]

a/n: to commemorate the beginning of october (which his halloween month), i've decided to write this little cute thing! hope you guys like it hehehe

what they yanderes would wear as halloween costumes

warning: gender neutral reader, absolutely no mentions of reader being a specific gender, mentions of reader being sexy LOL, mentions of costumes that might not conform to reader's gender/crossdressing

eun-jeong yoo ★ profile

beauty and the beast lmao

eun-jeong would really want to do an animal cosplay with you doing a matching costumes

so like beauty and the beast, werewolf and red riding hood, wolf and sheep, etc etc

he'd be the type to like buy pre-made costumes but then he'll see how badly the pre-made costumes are and do the costumes up a little bit more LOL

he wouldn't do a good job of it but he'd try to make it look better

liam arieh ★ profile

mans is nothing if not a mythology freak

he'd be the worst date to take to a halloween party becos he'd do some obscure shit and then be a bit annoyed or arrogant when people can't guess who the two of you are dressed up as

think persephone and hades, aphrodite and ares, orpheus and eurydice, achilles and patroclus, pylades and orestes, etc

most people will just guess that you're a greek couple LOL

you could probably convince him do do an angel and devil couple

gavin byrne ★ profile

no jokes, he'd wanna do those like stereotypically sexy halloween costumes LMAO but like the both of you have to do the same one

like for example: two sexy nurses, two sexy black cats, two sexy demons, etc etc

and it'll be like exactly matching LMAO no matter your gender (if you're comfy), you guys would be wearing female nurse outfits or sexy witch outfits

and the worst part is that like he'd 100% buy them from spirit halloween or the local party store so they're not best quality either

ayaka yamato ★ profile

would die to be able to do a j-fashion lolita outfit with you LOL

she's always wanted to dress up that way but it's hard to go around in lolita fashion and also it's something that immediately sticks out so she's never done it

but yeah, it has to be something cute and frilly

she'd pay attention to detail a lot and commission some renowned tailor or something to do the outfits

they have to be the same colour scheme so that it's obvious the two of you are matching

ryuunosuke yamamoto ★ profile

anime couple, anime couple, anime couple--

it can literally be any anime couple you want but it has to be from an anime that both of you have watched together/that both of you really love

he's a professional-level cosplayer so like he'd take over (but will let you help if you really want) and the cosplay will literally turn out so so good

he won't shy away from like armour or mech suit type stuff either

fujio watanabe ★ profile

won't really wanna dress up but you can force him to LOL

will only wear a costume if the costume is really easy to put on

like it has to be as easy to put on as regular clothes. it has to be something like a shirt, pants, maybe head gear but like nothing too complicated so it has to be either a headband or a hat

so like you're stuck with really boring costumes like cowboy? police man? stuff like that LOL and they'd be the cheap kind you can buy

gawain byrne ★ profile

vampire, vampire, vampire--

but like not dracula vampire! oh no, it'd be like period specific vampire with the loose white ruffled long sleeve shirts and tight pants LMAO

very victorian gothic style

and you have to also wear victorian gothic style. you don't have to be a vampire tho but i think gawain would just have a lot of fun putting on fangs hehehe

he'd want your costume to include like two red puncture marks tho LOL to signal that you're his vampiric snack

ryouta watanabe ★ profile

not to be repetitive but like video game couple, video game couple, video game couple--

would totally dress up as mario and princess peach or luigi and bowser if you'd like LOL

as long as it's like a video game that both of you love to play

he'll also do a cosplay of more detailed outfits like something from league of legends or overwatch or valorant

he's also a seasoned cosplayer so it'd be easy peasy for him to make a cosplay for both you and him

yeong-bae kigal ★ profile

GOD I KNOW I JUST SAID IT BUT video game couple, video game couple--

but yeong-bae would want it to be a bit more cutesy? so definitely like cookie run cookies, pokemon?, mario characters? something like that

would shy away a little from more complicated outfits like mech armour or video game outfits from more fight-y games. not becos he doesn't like them but becos they really want to look adorable and cute with you LOL

yeong-bae is literally in charge of a lot of the outfits the band wears so like he'd be really great with making the halloween outfits

he wouldn't be professional level though and he'd ask a little help from their stylist

soren kumar ★ profile

BORING BITCH

he'd wanna do something work related or uniform related lmao like a police couple or like a nurse and doctor? it definitely would be the type of outfits that are readily available and would be low effort for him

also low-key just wants to see you in uniform LMAO not that it's a kink or anything but just that he thinks it'd be sexy

and it's very! heteronormative! nasty man! he'd wear the man police uniform and (regardless of gender) he'd want you to wear the woman police uniform (cus it's sexier!!), etc etc

you can definitely argue with him abt it loool and he'll relent

would get them from spirit halloween or some cheap store though

emm fiala ★ profile

would want to dress up as something where she can utilize her burns. think freddy kreuger, jason, deadpool, frankenstein's monster

would want you to be her victim if she dresses up as a slasher or maybe be the spiderman to her deadpool? or even better, be the bride to her frankenstein's monster?

she'd definitely be all over you, doting on you, if you decide to dress up as her bride LOL and then you, casimir and her can be a trio! (frankenstein, his monster and his monster's bride!!)

would want to be more hands-on with the harder stuff of the costume like masks or weaponry but is absolutely useless when it comes to finer detailing like sewing together the clothes

casimir fiala ★ profile

desperately wants to dress up as a mad scientist LMAO just becos he already has the lab coat right so might as well?

would love for you to dress up as his deranged patient or as frankenstein's monster? or as his science experiment?

the outfits would be very home made but casimir is good enough and sewing. he's also very resourceful about things and can figure out how to make a decent enough costume

mel lowell ★ profile

honestly would want to be a wolf and something else couple LOL and no, the irony does not escape him

so something like wolf and red riding hood, wolf and pigs, wolf and sheep, etc etc

would buy the costumes becos he can't really control his shift enough to not freak people out if the two of you go to a party or something

he'd definitely buy online though and he'd make sure they costumes are really durable and can last a long time just in case the two of you want to save them for something else? or for next year

isamu lowell ★ profile

doesn't wanna dress up LOL but not becos he doesn't like halloween! it's becos he wants to go as himself for halloween

unlike mel, he's very eager to just go as a werewolf!

but, like mel, he wants to do a wolf and something else kind of cosplay! honestly, at this point, you might just become three wolves and a lowly sheep group cosplay LOL

like i said before, he won't need to really buy his outfit just becos he'll transform into it LOL but, for your outfit, he'd want it to be the highest quality he can get his hands on becos he wants you to be comfy

leonard lowell �� profile

honestly, leonard wants to go with the flow so whatever you want! but be warned that he'll be very critical of the outfits LOL

the costume has to be high quality and, if it's not, he'll nag you or just take the costumes and try to do them up a little bit so they're more comfortable

he'd be willing to do a wolf cosplay if you want to go with whatever the other wolves want LOL but he'd be like a very anime-fied sexy werewolf, yknow what i mean?

might even throw in a thick leather collar in there to be extra sexy LOL

[jujumin-translates]

Event | Act 3.5 Event - NEW ERA GARDEN | Chapter 7

*Contains spoilers for Act 12 - eternal moment*

Yukio: Everyone looks so cool.

Costume Manager: The fit seems fine too.

Syu: Yeah. Thanks for gettin’ this all pulled together in such a short amount of time.

Costume Manager: No, no, it’s nothing! It’s not every day I get an opportunity to do something like this, so I’m honored!

Yuzo: I’m used to wearin’ Japanese-style clothes, but the Shinsengumi’s haoris still feel too youthful.

Kasumi: Let’s take a commemorative photo together!

Hiro: You’re putting that on the web version of “Spotlight,” aren’t you?

Kasumi: Ehe, how’d you know?

Yukio: How about striking a pose and saying ��Go, Shinsengumi!”?

Kasumi: Join us, Yukio-san!

Yukio: Eh, me too?

Costume Manager: If that’s the case, I have a spare dandara haori, so why don’t you put one on too, Yukio-san?

Syu: Sounds like a great idea.

Zen: Who’s Yukio playing?

Yuzo: Yamanami-san maybe?

Yukio: But I’m not an actor--.

Reni: …

Yukio: Umm… I just won’t do it! It’d be like having a tourist in the mix!

Yukio: Just go ahead and take the picture!

Zen: …

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yukio: Well then, let’s end rehearsal here today. You can all put your costumes away and head home now.

Yuzo: Good work today.

Kasumi: Good work, everyone!

Zen: Nice work.

Yukio: Ah, Zen-san.

Zen: Hm?

Yukio: It’s your turn for a one-on-one interview, Zen-san.

Zen: Oh, gotcha.

Yukio: Should we go to the usual bar?

Zen: Let me decide where we go.

Yukio: That’s fine, where do you want to go?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Zen: Here you are.

Yukio: Stew…!?

Zen: It’s been a while since I’ve made somethin’ like this for you.

Zen: The recipe is the latest version of the one that I’ve been workin’ on since you nagged me about it back then.

Yukio: Zen-san…! I never thought I’d be able to eat this again! I can’t wait!

Zen: …

Zen: (It was really hard to come up with this recipe.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

That day, for the umpteenth time, we met to review the stew before dinner.

“How is it?”

When I asked that, Yukio smiled as he sat alone in the dining room, eating the stew.

“…It’s really good. But… I think it could use a little more white wine and maybe some more miso. Maybe a little less butter too. But just a bit!”

“…Got a long list of demands for your stew, as usual.”

“Ehehe.”

“I’ll try that recipe next month.”

I sighed as Yukio held out his empty plate.

“Seconds, please!”

“You literally just had lunch. This is what I’m makin’ for dinner.”

Yukio pouts, insisting I was only doing that because of what he said.

“C’mon, just a little bit? We can have some together, Zen-san.”

“Fine, but just a bit.”

I ended up putting some more stew on Yukio’s plate and put some on my own before sitting down with him.

“It’s better to have a meal with someone else, after all.”

“Doesn’t matter if you eat with me, it’s boring either way.”

Yukio smiles at me while I silently return to eating my food.

“That’s not true. Generally speaking, you want to eat with other people, don’t you, Zen-san?”

“You sayin’ I’m a loner?”

“Yeah. I’m with you, so I guess I kind of get what you mean. The MANKAI dorms were built because I wanted a place where all the troupe members could live together like a family.”

Yukio looked right at me as he said that.

“People like you should create a ‘place’ like that for yourselves someday, Zen-san.”

“A place?”

“Yes. This place I created is unique. I’m forever grateful for the precious time you all share in my life.”

I was a little surprised that Yukio would think about such an admirable thing, given the way he was always pushing everyone.

“The only way lonely people like us can be at peace is by making a place for ourselves!”

“…I ain’t like you.”

“Ehhh, I think we’re pretty alike.”

Despite my denial, Yukio’s opinion got some nods of approval.

But being lonely just doesn’t match with me.

No one else thinks of me like that.

Yukio is a strange man. He so easily opens up and shows what he’s feeling inside without even realizing it.

Despite having been betrayed before, I’ve been tempted to rekindle the bonds with the others that I never thought I’d want again, since joining this theater company.

I guess Yukio is right, maybe I am a lonely person after all.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yukio: …Snf.

Zen: Old age makin’ you weepy?

Yukio: …This taste never gets old.

Yukio: You’ve had the love of my stomach ever since the day we met, Zen-san. The fried rice from back then was good too.

Zen: Oh, that store went outta business.

Yukio: Eeh!? Really!? I had no idea… That’s shocking.

Zen: The owner seemed happy at the closing party because a lotta the former staff was there, me included.

Yukio: I see. So you didn’t end up missing it in the end. You used to get so mad while you were working there part-time…

Zen: …You’re a lonely guy, too, but you’ve done well enough on your own for so long.

Yukio: By the way, it’d be a shame if this long-awaited stew were any saliter…

Zen: Don’t cry into the stew. It’s gross…

Yukio: Ehehe. Even back then I was making a place for myself, you know. I thought I was doing okay, but…

Yukio: When I was allowed to come back to Japan, I was thinking about what I’d even do when I got back.

Yukio: I realized that the first generation MANKAI Company was really the best place I had in my life.

Zen: That why you’re afraid of fightin’ with Reni?

Yukio: --Ah, yeah.

Yukio: …I’m kind of tempted to talk with you more, Zen-san. About a lot of things.

Zen: Even back then, I told you to tell me if somethin’ was wrong, but you never did.

Yukio: It’s because I couldn’t do it back then

Zen: …Why?

Yukio: I think maybe you’re right, because I was scared. Our bond was reconnected, but if something happens to break it, it’ll all fall apart again.

Yukio: If I get into a fight with Reni, I’m sure everything would happen all over again…

Zen: …Yukio Tachibana’s a human being too, ain’t he?

Yukio: You’re right. I forgot that while cleaning the costume.

Zen: Because it was broken once but brought back together, that bond must be stronger than ever. And each one of us is even more developed as a person.

Zen: Ain’t no way somethin’ like that is gonna be broken so easily. So confront it head on. It’s not with the Reni from then, but with the Reni now.

Yukio: Right…

Zen: The one and only place where we belong will probably never be taken from us again, so we should cherish it until the day we die.

Yukio: …That’s the way of a lonely man’s life.

Yukio: Seconds, please!

Zen: Hmph, you still eat as much as ever.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[its-a-ittle-bit-cold]

Trying hard to let go

1.6k words

Anakin Skywalker x reader

Waves masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part of the Waves universe, this is sort of a 0.5 story to introduce you to my version of the order etc.

Summary: While on leave, you adjust to life in the city and run into someone who you can never seem to stop finding

warnings: brief argument, grieving the loss of a loved one

a/n: another week, another addition to one of my series! I may find the energy to bust another one out tomorrow, but who knows! Happy reading!

It’s almost as if, since the official commemoration of Master Bosque, a new time period has started. It… feels as if everything that happened when he was alive is the before now, and everything since his death is after. This is strictly after.

You’ve tried and tried and tried to move on. It works sometimes, just distracting yourself, mediating, training the younglings at the Creche, plotting missions you won’t go on. Designing drills and challenges for jedi to practice with (especially Jedi who wield two blades, like you).

Becoming a Master Sentinel has also been an adjustment. After the death of Bosque, you had to take over as the head sentinel on coruscant, moving into an apartment in the highly populated domestic sectors, walking a beat, helping out civilians, catching runaway pets and showing off your lightsabers to small kids (they are always fascinated by the fact that you have, not one, but two white lightsabers, something different, something unique).

You’ve made friends, encounters frequent, while you’re on shore leave, which is how you’ve found yourself in the latest fix: a wedding.

You’ve never been to a wedding before, as all of your friends are Jedi, bound by the code, but your now close friend Callia needed a plus-one to a wedding of one of you other friends, and you weren’t about to let her go alone. So, you had set off to do something you’d never done before: shopping.

It’s a wonderful experience, shopping is. The shops overwhelm you with colors you’d never see in the jedi temple- the flashiest thing you wear is the custom beskar chest plate you’d been gifted after a battle with a high ranking Mandalorian house member. The rest of your attire is strictly shades of brown and the white-and-teal clone armor you wear on your arms in combat. 

So the silks and cottons and lush fabrics of the dress shop you’ve stepped into are a shock to you. Callia- bless her- is a whirlwind who does al the work for you, picking out ten different dresses of varying styles and colors appropriate for a wedding, tossing them (and you) into a dressing room.

After a rigorous amount of spinning and pinching and hemming and “hmm”ing and denying scandalous dresses, you come out with two dresses, one, “just in case,” and to “build your wardrobe,” because Jedi, apparently “dress like colorblind grandmothers,” according to Callia. 

This is how you end up sitting on the bathroom counter of Calia’s apartment, letting her pint your face with brand new makeup - the products she has wouldn’t work on the tone of your skin, considering that she is Pantoran, and therefore, blue.

She’s radiant, of course, with the golden Pantoran formal headdress adorning her light hair, big eyes, drawn in dark eyeliner, light purple dress draped over her thin frame. She won’t let you look at yourself until she’s done with you. She grabs your chin, dabbing a dark pigment on your lips, smiling.

“Okay, look.”

You turn, eyes widening as you take in the reflection of a girl- not a Jedi. Who you could have been, had you found your way to coruscant on your own, without the help of the Jedi.

could you be attending your own wedding?

no.

There’s no room for doubt and The Force. 

You inhale. Was this a mistake?

No, because this is the duty of a Sentinel. Live among the people. Personify the Jedi.

Your dress, a simple sage green dress with a square neck that reaches to your mid-calf, is perfectly fluffy enough for you to hide your sabers under the skirt, thanks to your thigh holsters. 

Your hair is pinned back, artfully framing your face in just the right places, and the makeup Callia has painted on is the perfect simple face. 

Understated, she calls it.

the rest of the night is uneventful- aside from you struggling to walk in your heels, the misting of your eyes at the sight of the pure happiness passing in the bride and groom’s faces as they tie the final bow and celebrate their union. 

It’s warm when the reception ends. You hug your friends whose wedding you’ve just celebrated, wishing them luck through the force, and the you and Callia begin the journey home. On the transit, though, you take off the heels that have been killing your feet, leaving them in plain white socks. It’s okay, because you and Callia are the only ones in this carriage.

The stops drag on as you sit in silence, eyelids drooping, the high fading from the great time you’d had tonight.

The doors slide open to a ruckus, shaking you awake, Callia also takes her head off your shoulder, glancing distractedly at the door. Clones.

More specifically, royal blue painted clones. The 501st.

Fives, one of your favorites of Anakin’s troops, catches sight of you and does a double take.

“General?” he calls out. You smile tiredly at the matching sets of brown eyes that land on you, suddenly feeling completely out of place without your armor, sitting here in civvy clothes coming from a civvy event. 

“Hey, boys,” you say, standing up and bowing to them respectfully, just as you would another jedi. “I didn’t know you were on leave, too.”

“Wait! Hold the doors!”

Another clone voice, and two pairs of pounding footsteps, and then a blond trooper enters. Rex, and… Anakin.

You stop short, locking eyes with him, until Callia breaks your intense stare, nudging you with her elbow, clearing her throat.

“Ah, yes. Everyone, this is Callia. Callia, this is Fives, Jesse, Tup, Kix and Hardcase. Over there, the blond, that’s Rex, he’s the Clone commander for the 501st legion. And… that one,” you point at Anakin, “Is General Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi of the Grand republic, the one I told you about.”

The significance of this phrase is loaded for each of you. 

To Anakin, you suppose this might mean you’ve told Callia everything. Everything that he said, that he did to make you fall apart.

To you and Callia, you’re referring to the one you grew up training with, your former best friend, though you’ve spared her the details of the argument that made everything go south. 

Callia, ever the extrovert, strides forward and pumps Anakin’s hand.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Y/n’s other best friend!”

Well, maybe you left out the former part of the relationship.

“…hi?” Anakin shakes her hand with his glove on, eyes still on you. “Other best friend, huh?”

“Well, she told me how you two grew up together and stuff, so yeah!”

“Callia,” You say. “This is your stop.” 

Indeed, her cue to leave is indicated by the holo over the door. 

“Oh, well, it’s was nice meeting you guys!” Callia waves to the group of clones gathered awkwardly in the corner of the compartment. They all wave back, vaguely confused by the Pantoran girl who promptly bounces out of the transit vehicle, blowing you a kiss right as the doors close. 

“Well, she seems nice,” Anakin tells you, grinning slyly.“Bestie.”

you groan.

How is it that, through the vacuum of space, miles and miles away, you can sense his presence, but on the public Coruscanti transit system, somehow you’re surprised by his appearance?

“She doesn’t seem to grasp that I’m not allowed to have any ‘best friends’.”

Rex shakes his head.

“Don’t know you were living with the civvies, General.”

you shrug. 

“It’s new. just this leave I’ve moved into the city.”

Fives shoulders his way to you, face alight with humor.

“What’s got you all dolled up, General? I didn’t think the Jedi were allowed to wear anything but browns.”

“You know, gives, that’s exactly what my friends said when the saw me.” you wave your shows in the air. “I was at a wedding.”

“A wedding.”

“Yes, Skywalker, a wedding. That’s what civilians do. They go to weddings and they go shopping and do all these pointless things just for the fun of it.”

Anakin steps toward you.

“Civilians? But you’d been doing so well at fitting in, with your friends.” He sneers the last word. “Now you refer to them as others?”

You step towards him, too, narrowing your eyes.

“I can have civilian friends, you know. That’s what Sentinels do. We can’t all just swing out lightsabers and blow things up and walk away without consequences.”

“No, face it, Y/n, you’re running. Like you always do.”

“You’re one to talk about running, Skywalker.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Suddenly, you’re hit with an overwhelming wave of weariness. You’re tired of arguing with him and the tense silences and the broken moments. Biting back a reproach, to tell him exactly what that means, you glance around.

The Clones are probably tired of it, too.

“Whatever, Skywalker. I’m not doing this with you again. It always ends with both of us going home hurting.”

Anakin’s perplexed by this, you can see it on his face. Behind him, Rex has a peculiar expression of relief on his face. He probably just wants to see Jex again without having to separate their generals from another screaming match.

Anakin’s shut up, at least.

“This is my stop. goodnight Rex, boys,” You pause, then, quietly, “Goodnight, Anakin.”

It’s not until you tuck yourself into bed and turn over that you realize that this has been the first day since his death that you’ve not thought of Bosque once. 

Some part of you jolts at the notion of forgetting him, but how could you? He always was and is a huge part of your life, even in his absence.

And you will always hold him near, but that doesn’t mean you have to regret him all day every day.

You felt him today, you realize. Stepping back from the argument, bidding a polite goodnight to someone you could easily hate. 

You can almost feel him hand on your shoulder, showing you the way.

———

Aaaaah starting off with the process of grief! Thanks for letting me ramble to you ;)

[peachymilkandcream]

Ready Or Not|Part 5|Yandere Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: I am loving hardened military Levi, he's so out there and off his rocker I love it!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

===============================================

Levi followed his troops to the home of one of the city's wealthy families. An older woman who often chatted and gossiped around the town, people like these he couldn't stand normally, but a gossip like this would know more than he would about Evelyn's whereabouts.

He dismounted and marched straight towards her, time was money and he continually found himself in short supply as of late.

"Speak, and if I find that you've wasted my time woman you'll be sorely paid back for it."

Her smug smile never left her face, happy to have something to make Humanity's Strongest indebted to her. As a man who declined invitations to parties and visitations something like this would surely get her and her worthless husband in his favour.

"Captain Ackerman, just the man I wanted to see. You might remember me, I was at Commander Pixis' little get together to commemorate all his years of service. It's such an honor to meet the man who keeps us safe."

His expression is unchanging, the lighting casting dark shadows onto his face, giving him a more menacing appearance.

She clears her throat, uncomfortable, but continues. "I hope this information puts us in a good light for you, always eager to help out those in our class. It's a shame with your wife, why if I were you-"

"Cut to the chase woman, I don't have time for your empty flattery and nonsense."

A little offended she presses on. "Right, well, I saw Mrs. Ackerman running this way with dear little Furlan on her hip. The poor thing was frightened half to death at being taken from his home. She seemed frantic and headed towards the docks."

"What time was this?"

"I'd say about, two in the afternoon? Clearly trying to sneak away before you came home."

"Good." He turns to a soldier. "I want you to look up ship records, who was in port at that time or the hour after for good measure. That'll narrow it down."

"I'm glad to be of help." Her smile still smug.

"And you," He motions to another. "Make sure this woman and her husband understand the meaning of keeping her lips shut."

"Yes sir."

"Wait what are you doing? Not even a thank you?"

Levi continues to return to his horse, ignoring the pleading from the lady as his soldiers show her what will happen if this turns into gossip as well.

He's renewed with a sense of vigor, another lead. Her location was being narrowed down with each passing day, soon he would find her.

"Now to show someone else what happens if they don't talk."

==============================================

"Fired? What do you mean fired?"

"I mean you're done, look your kid broke a lamp the other day and I know you sure as hell can't afford to pay me back."

"I will eventually, please, just give me another chance."

"If I gave every sob story a chance I'd be broke. Go talk to the man who knocked you up for support."

Evelyn's expression darkened. "Come on Furlan."

"Yeah get lost, find someone else to steal from."

Evelyn had survived with much less, but rent was going up and she was running out of employers. All of them found some reason to fire her.

When they returned home she set Furlan down for a nap while dealing with the dead body in her house. Her former employer, Mrs. Price, the poor soul had been badmouthing Evelyn to everyone looking for work in this city. All because she believed that Evelyn was being punished for the sin of being a single mother and that helping her would only give her a means to have more pre-marital sex.

She had it coming to her.

Evelyn Glass Ackerman, a murderer. It was in times like these she referred to herself by her married name, since it was fitting to accompany the two. Levi had made her this way, he had forced her to do things she never would have done. All because of his selfishness.

Thankfully for her he always taught her how to clean up the mess afterwards. In all his years alive Levi had never been caught and charged with a single crime although he committed more than she wanted to think about. He was a vile human being, but he taught her how to survive. For that and only that would she be forever grateful.

She had to find another income soon, with a child on the way soon she would have another mouth to feed. And without Levi's money she wasn't sure how she could do it. Everyone here believed that she was the product of her own making and that one could damage their reputation by associating with a whore.

Some people never changed.

She'd find a way, somehow, to survive. She couldn't go back, not now, she was too far into this. Who knows what Levi would do if she came crawling back now? He could actually kill her, lose control and everything she still loved of this world would be gone. No, she had to keep running.

He controlled her once, he'd never do it again.

[acquaintedwithrask]

I got my first tattoo today :)

I remember when we bought the Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time as a kid.  It was for my mom’s birthday in December, only maybe a year after we’d gotten the N64-- our first console-- for Christmas.  We were so excited to give it to her and to play it because the game looked AMAZING.  And it was.  There were many, many hours on the couch in our basement with my brother, mom, and I playing the game by trading off turns and helping each other using the guidebook.

My mom passed far too early and young from cancer in 2015.  My brother got a tattoo on his arm with a quote that reminds him of her, and I wanted something to commemorate her too.  I had the idea of the musical staff from the game, and I asked my brother what song might have been her favorite.  “I’m not sure, but I do remember she’d play Epona’s Song a lot to get Epona... sometimes just to ride her like 3 feet, but she loved that horse”.

This made sense-- mom was always a horse lover, as she’d ridden when she was a girl, and while she wouldn’t say she was an artist, she could draw a few things and one of them were horses.  (I wish I still had a drawing of hers; I have no idea why I never kept one.  No-- I know why-- because when you’re growing up, you think that certain things will always be around forever, that your mom will always be there to draw a horse when you request it, and because when you’re in your late 20′s and your mom’s been diagnosed, you’re too busy trying to deny it and hoping it will pass, to think about asking her to draw you a horse at least one more time.)

I still can’t draw horses very well, but thankfully this tattoo artist can.  She’s a LoZ fan herself, and she CRUSHED it.  (If you’re in central Ohio, check out Tattoo Saga, highly recommend; DM me if you want more info!)

The stippling is so cool, and the tiny details in Epona are so incredible.  I think mom would approve.

[reblog-house]

This FFF comes courtesy to @what-the-fuck-adam and I's lost multiplayer world. Our home that we just found out is gone. This is... to commemorate it.

There was a lot more I wanted to include. There's an infinite amount of stories to be told in that world we shared and played in for what feels like years but was only half of one, but this is the story I decided to tell. Something that never got to happen, but could've, had the timing been right.

With that aside, a self-fic:

Find Me at Home (Catching Fish)

Characters: Bo and I (friends :D)

Wc: 900

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 262, “Run Far and Fast”

Ao3: Here!

“W-” Carime looked up from its watch to find no one around. How did Bo get so far so fast? They were just under the spruce trees, making their way out of the Portal Base when Carime decided to check the time and now it was alone. Speechless, it opened comms.

> BO WHAT THE HELL.

> what lol

> WHERE ARE YOU

> ??? past the mushroom base > where are YOU

> How did you get there so FAST! > Still at the portal base

> lmao

Carime growled at the non-answer and shut its eyes. If only they could fly, but even back when it had wings, it had never been able to. With a sigh, they ran down the staircase over to their little dock. Some other time, it might’ve turned around to appreciate the handicraft, how the two of them came together to make it a cozier place, Carime with the little decorative cave, Bo with… the entire dock, stone chiseled just right with just the hint of walls to elevate the design — they had truly become a great builder. But now, they rushed past it.

To be honest, it was always a rush, trying to catch up to Bo.

Carime jumped into its boat and started rowing. Once the river opened up into the ocean and they went past the Mushroom Base, in its top-heavy blocky glory, they looked down into the waters and jumped in, thankful for the dolphins Bo had inadvertently brought back from one of their explorations together. 

Well, no. Bo had explored while Carime was off doing something repetitive, probably farming or trading, or something. But then Bo had taken them on a journey across the oceans far and wide, through hills of emeralds and of jungles, until deep within one, and deep under the earth and stone, they found a trail ruin and spent ages digging around it. Bo had stolen some terracotta before Carime could tell them to keep everything intact, but at least it managed to preserve… a grand majority of it.

After that, they took their valuables and came back, each with their own boat, Carime trailing behind its friend as dolphins swam and splashed around Bo without their knowledge. That was cute.

It took a picture and once they docked at their base (the Flower Base, Beachside Base, whatever name Bo had decided without telling Carime, their current home), it told Bo of what had happened. They found it funny and moved on. The picture stayed locked inside its comms.

Now, Carime broke the boat and let the dolphins’ grace flow through them to power through the ocean.

Eventually, the dolphins dispersed and it was left with no option but to call back the boat. So, now soaking and covered in salt, they continued on rowing.

The top of the house became visible, after a while, and with it, the rows of wheat fields at the right and the sheep forever stuck in their tiny decorative 2 by 3 wheat “farm”.

And at the left of the house, Bo was sitting on the dock, a fishing rod in hand, as it always was.

Carime swerved to the left and went over to them. It ed the boat to the dock and jumped up. Bo turned to look at them with a grin.

“Yo.”

“Fishing already?”

“You were taking too long,” they said and reeled in the line. They put the fish on a pile behind them, three cod stacked on top of each other.

“Not my fault,” Carime started, and then stopped, since they didn’t know how to continue that sentence. Instead, it changed the topic. “You wanted to show me something?”

“Oh, yeah!” They stood, fishing rod against one shoulder and scooped the three fish with their other hand. They walked over to the fishing cabin Carime had made for them and left the cod in a barrel, their rod on top of it. “I never showed you the base.”

Carime stopped, brain churning. “The… cherry grove one? I’ve been there.”

“No, the one in the nook. A cottage in the ice.”

“Oh,” it clicked. “Yeah, okay, I know where that is. Haven’t seen it, you’re right.”

Bo had already started walking back into their house. Carime ran to catch up to them. 

Bo went for the chests across the entrance and Carime went down the ladder right next to the pot with a single cooked chicken inside. It had accidentally dropped it inside while trying to eat it, ages ago, and hadn’t figured out how to get it out without breaking the pot. That was just there now. 

Carime got to the basement and started looking through their chests. “Did you get food yet?”

“Uh, yeah,” their voice came from upstairs. “Take some more. Don’t forget your bed.”

“Got it!” It scooped a stack of baked potatoes (potatoes it had wanted to trade… before they got baked) and put a hand on the ladder.

“It’s night!” Bo’s voice came from the other side.

Knowing what that meant, Carime let go of the ladder and walked through the chest room, over to the trading room, and then climbed the ladder. Bo was already lying in bed trying to make the night pass and Carime joined them in slumber.

Tomorrow, they’d visit Bo’s newest base. They’d traverse through ocean and rivers and set up camp on the way there.

But for now, they’d rest.

[forabeatofadrum]

End of the line

Summary: The New Directions and others return to Lima for the 10 year anniversary of Finn’s death.

Notes: For Cory.

AO3

--

Tracy Hummel-Anderson loves having a full house, and her grandparents’ house is filled to the brim with her dads’ friends.

Kurt doesn’t have the heart to explain to a three year old what death means and why they’re all here. Tracy knows of Finn and she knows that he is no longer around, but she doesn’t fully understand why yet.

Tracy is hugging everyone’s legs and giving flowers that she picked in the garden. When she hands one to Carole, Carole tries very hard to not burst into a new round of tears. That’s Kurt’s cue to step in.

“Come on, Tracy,” he picks her up and carries her away from Carole.

“Do you think grandma loved the flower?” she asks.

“I think she loved it,” Kurt answers earnestly. Carole loves everything that Tracy makes, but today is just weird. It’s been ten years since Finn died. Every year, the New Directions try to get together to commemorate, and it doesn’t always work, but everyone made time to be here for the 10th anniversary.

Kurt puts her down so that she can hang around with the other kids. His friends have kids. He and Blaine were the first, but Rachel and Jesse’s daughter soon followed. Tina and Artie surprised everyone, including themselves, with twins. Brittany and Santana are looking into it as well. The New Directions are growing up.

Well, apart from Finn. He never made it past 19. He would’ve turned 29 this year.

What would his life had looked like? Everyone thought he’d end up with Rachel. He was working on becoming a teacher. 

Kurt shakes his head. He’s helping no one with this. When Finn first died, Kurt couldn’t stop thinking about all these possible scenario’s, because it felt so unfair that he died. Kurt still thinks it’s unfair, but he stopped torturing himself.

The 10 year anniversary just brings back feelings.

Kurt walks back to his parents. His dad is talking with Sam about the time Sam and Finn competed for the position of quarterback. Carole, who still looks like a mess, laughs over a memory that Tina shared with her, only to fall silent again.

The mood is off. Tracy is right to think that it’s fun to be together with everyone, because Kurt also loves seeing everyone again, but it’s also under a weird circumstance.

A photo of Finn has been put on prominent display, with the date of his birth and death presented underneath. There’s a small line between them. Puck once said that it’s weird how that one life represents an entire life and it’s true. How does one line capture 19 years of a life well-lived?

It’s so weird to think that Finn’s already reached the end of his line.

Tracy apparently got bored being around the other kids, because she’s walking around again, amusing everyone. Quinn gives her a piece of candy from her pocket, Artie has his camera out and he films her skipping around the room, Mike twirls her around, and so on. Tracy loves her honourary aunts and uncles and they love her.

She eventually ends up at Blaine, who carries her to Kurt.

“Are you having fun?” Kurt asks.

Tracy nods happily and Kurt smiles. Kurt and Blaine make eye contact and Blaine nods.

“Go to daddy, Tracy,” Blaine says and he hands her to Kurt, “He wants to show you something.”

“Oh?”

Kurt takes her to Finn’s photograph. Tracy has grown a lot, so he needs both arms to carry her, so he can’t pick up the photo. Instead, he bends his knees and lowers Tracy.

“Uncle Finn!” Tracy says.

“Indeed,” Kurt says and he feels a lump in his throat. He’s still Tracy’s uncle. “We’re all here for him.”

“Why?” Tracy asks. She has a puzzled look on her face and it’s adorable.

“Because we miss him,” Kurt answers.

He realises that the room has gotten silent. He doesn’t want to look around, but he knows others are watching him and Tracy.

“Is this his party?” Tracy asks and Kurt lets out a teary laugh.

He wants to say that it’s not a party, and that people can come together for different reasons, and that today is a sad day, but then he thinks about her words.

Kurt will never celebrate Finn’s death. Never. The thought alone is baffling.

But he thinks of today. Everyone’s come to his parents’ house for Finn. People are trading stories and other fun memories. Photos and videos are passed around and despite the weird atmosphere, everyone is having a good time. It’s nice to come together and talk about the person they all miss so dearly.

“I guess so,” Kurt says, “A party to celebrate your uncle. That’s one way to see it.”

“Will there be cake?” Tracy asks. Of course she thinks of cakes. She mostly goes to birthday parties.

“We can have a cake,” Kurt’s dad cuts in, before Kurt can answer, “Right, Carole?”

Kurt finally turns around and as expected, all eyes are on him and Tracy, apart from his dad’s. He’s looking at Carole. Carole’s eyes are wet.

“Yes,” she eventually says, “Yes, we can. Chocolate fudge. His favourite.”

“I’ll drive down to the bakery!” many people volunteer at once, which makes everyone laugh. There will definitely be cake now.

“Yay!” Tracy claps her hands and Kurt hugs his daughter closer. He’s sad that Finn’s never got to met her, but she’s here and Kurt will keep the memory of his brother alive for her. He won’t be the only ones. Everyone in this room will remember Finn and as Tracy said, they will continue to celebrate him.

[milkspoilt]

an excerpt from my blog, on finding something close to religion through devotion:

The theme ritual and commemoration really resonates with me particularly in the aspect of love and devotion; I have always found myself having an estranged relationship with a higher being or God himself.. I was christened when I was younger and sometimes find solace in that fact even if it doesn't fit who I am. I was quite a lonely child growing up and found myself talking to God often on my knees at my landing window, maybe I spoke to whoever was up there in a sense to comfort myself or out of wonder, but I did speak to whoever listened, finding signs I was heard and stars shinning brighter than the rest when I wished upon them. But when my grandmother died I turned quite cold towards a God I once seeked comfort from -now had taken away a love in my life, someone who called me her angel was now one of his, how could this be? And so I grew up to be a child in a teenager's body who had a lot of resentment in her heart for a God she once spoke to with loneliness.. she now ignored or spoke to with hate. This continued as I grew up, to hate was a lot easier to do than try to understand. God remained someone I would loathe.. I would not turn to or acknowledge him until as I grew up realised I would call out for him on special occasions.. I found myself dumbfounded but still.. I would turn to God when I was in love; to ask for a prayer or to keep me in his sights, to send me a sign or listen to me.. but still I would treat him as if everything we had been through together was reversible -that is what he preaches isn't it.. forgiveness? And so I used this to my advantage, only when love was involved would I pray or wish for it to continue.. and as soon as it ended I would curse him again. I am a simple girl I suppose. Maybe greedy or selfish or head in the clouds or hopeful..

I don't know why I resort to a higher being when I feel feelings.. maybe because they are felt so deeply only a religious figure would understand me? Only those who devote their life to a God they've never met or touched, would know how I feel? Maybe praying countless times a day unanswered or keeping people in your prayers is similar to how I act when in love. Intensely, deeply, unfathomably, religiously. Maybe it is all these things.

And so that leads me here.. What I would like to explore is almost my relationship with God when in love or devoted to another. I think this is quite an interesting take on the brief, maybe it's quite literal but I do believe when I love it feels almost like a religious action. I can't half throw myself into things, I need to be consumed and engulfed by them completely. They need to swallow me.

[dent-de-leon]

Hello, I am here once again to cast my Molly thoughts onto you.

Very often I think about Molly once being quiet…empty. But then he thrives in the joys, laughter, and color of the carnival, and then with the Nein.

But sometimes, Molly will have dreams, visions, nightmares of the quiet, the empty, THE EYES, and suddenly, he’s in a state of silence, unable to talk.

The Nein are fumbling on what to do, but then Yasha, his dear Yasha, easily holds himself close, and he hangs onto her like a lifeline. She does her best to talk despite not being the best conversationalist, but it’s what Molly is so familiar with, so soothed by. She tells him of the colorful flowers she’s seen, the crackling sound of thunder from her trips away from the group, the bustling sounds of people she has passed by.

The Nein learn from this, making sure that when Molly is unnervingly silent, they give him sounds, colors, warmth.

Molly may be silent, but never is he empty.

Oh, I absolutely headcannon this as well!! We know that Molly did have nightmares about Lucien and the Eyes--dreams that he always tried to forget. And at the very end of Campaign 2, Matt describes the haunting visions that Kingsley still sees of Cognouza and Lucien night after night. King reliving the moment when he sacrificed himself over and over, the primal alien screams and black chains that followed--

So I definitely think Molly/King still has moments when he feels that familiar, gnawing ache of Empty, once too many nightmares and memories come pouring back. And I can definitely see Yasha running right to his side. When Molly first confesses the truth about Lucien and his days of clawing Emptiness, he's so grateful to have Yasha there for him. Gives her a pat on the shoulder and says, "Thank you, dear." And at the very start of the episode, he stays close by her, still trying to suppress a panic attack--laughing nervously, admitting shakily, "I'm so glad to see you."

Just having Yasha near helps ground him. And if he got lost in feeling Empty again--even if the rest of the world and his memories start to fade, I think he'd still very much be drawn to her and reach out to her for comfort all the same.

I think a lot about how King Molly's first word after Empty is Love, how he goes up to Yasha and gives her a big hug and holds on tight. The way he goes and picks flowers for her and Beau in the Blooming Grove--all these little things that show how much he loves his charm and the rest of the Nein, even though he still doesn't have the words to say it.

The way Jester shows Tealeaf each of the cards in his tarot deck, gently tells him that she hopes just having them again will make him feel a little bit better. Tries her best to give him something concrete to hold onto, to anchor him. I can see her dealing out the cards between them whenever Molly's feeling Empty again, Jester softly telling him who each person is and what their card means. Tealeaf clinging to the deck and reading through it over and over in the moonlight, trying to commemorate every face to memory. The way Jester's so protective of Molly like he always was of her.

And then...I just can't get over how it's Caleb Molly calls out to first after Yasha. How first and foremost he has his Love, is warmed by just the sight of her so much, and then calls out for his Magician right after. The way Caleb fought so hard just for the chance to reunite with Molly, limped to his side and begged the rest of the Nein to save him. Casting the spell to resurrect him, promising so earnestly, "Empty no longer, Mr. Tealeaf." Caleb showing so much love and compassion for Mollymauk, that when all hope seems lost, when he doesn't wake--it's him Yasha turns to for comfort, looking to him for help as she cries, "Is there nothing else to do...? Caleb?" Because they both just love him so much. Because Yasha trusts Caleb to save him.

In those moments when Molly/King goes nonverbal, I think Caleb would also be very patient, very understanding. Because he'd been through very much the same thing, all those years in the sanitarium. We see panel after panel of him silently moving through the years in a haze, and I think it's very much implied he never spoke, never really felt aware. Just years and years of walking through this nightmare, dissociating from the world around him--Trent's spell further distancing him from himself, locking all his memories away.

So if anyone would understand exactly what it is Tealeaf's feeling when all he can say is Empty, I think it's Caleb. Because for an entire decade, that's how he felt. I can see him being kind and gentle with Molly in those moments the way he wished someone would have been for him. Sitting by his side when the memories get to be too much, when it all eats away at him until he feels hollow again. Caleb delicately parting his hair and giving him another forehead kiss, promising him again that he isn't Empty anymore--

It's like how Yasha told Molly having a family again made her feel less empty. I think her and Caleb just understand a lot of Molly's pain and grief in a very intimately familiar way, and it makes them both want to reach back out to Mollymauk like he did for him. Molly, who tells Lucien, "We love broken things the most," and gives his whole heart to try and save other shattered souls.

And I just love your idea that Yasha would see how Molly is grounded by color and light and joy and life; all the vibrant, beautiful things that Molly saw in the world, even though he still knew it was so "harsh and cruel." Yasha giving Mollymauk more wonderful memories to fill that Emptiness, to remind him that he is alive, and whole, and loved.

I think of Yasha holding onto Molly and hugging him as tight as she can when they fall asleep. Playing old songs from the circus on her harp. Beau reading pages from her journal aloud, showing off all the little trinkets she gathered in their travels. Jester fanning out the tarot deck and inviting him to pick a few cards. Drawing with him under the stars. Caleb casting Prismatic Image until golden memories flicker all around them, retelling all of their adventures like it's his favorite story, watching the way Tealeaf's eyes light up--

[cruesuffix]

Due to a lot of stalking on this app, I found my newest favourite thing in this fandom: fem!crüe

Here is something to commemorate this wonderful phenomenon (femininomenon?? ok I’ll stop) my first time actually writing some type of smut so if it’s cringy pls tell me, complain send in your hate mail to my dms. anyways this doesn’t have a title but I think you can all predict what pairing I’m coming in with (predictable much?)

Nikki can tell Marzi is drunk, if the loud, rapid knocking that sounds like someone is in danger of getting kidnapped is any indication. They just finished a show and finally managed to get to their hotel rooms when her belligerent guitarist starts pounding at her door. Nikki knows it’s probably not best to hang around her like this anymore. In a brief moment of clarity, Nikki had decided to get sober. The drugs weren’t doing her any good, and in order to be productive enough to write, perform, be a human she needed to get off of everything. Maybe she could start fresh, and she at least needed the motivation to keep going. Marzi wasn’t a good influence. The guitarist was…in a funk to say the least. It was clear to everyone around her.

She was never one to get blackout drunk before, but now she was drinking before, during, and after each show. It never affected her playing, though the damage was starting to show physically. Nikki tried not to notice how much the older woman’s face swelled after a night out. It seemed like it was starting to make her a bit self conscious, and it took Nikki awhile to calm her down during a fit. There was something there, something going on. For some reason, Nikki never addressed it. She never called her out for it, never asked if she was doing ok. She felt bad, but deep down she knew she’d never get the response she wanted. Marzi would still refuse to open up, no matter how wasted she was.

She knows she shouldn’t entertain it. She shouldn’t be letting Marzi in, letting her get her way. Still, she opens her door. She was lonely either way. Who cares if she won’t remember their conversation, if they even have one. Who cares if she won’t remember her trying to help, she’ll end up sleeping in her arms at the end of the night. They’ll wake up the next morning, nothing on under those sheets. Marzi will grin at her, smudged makeup making her look trashy, in a chic way. Nikki will once again succumb to the fact that she just can’t say no to that woman. She opens the door anyways.

Nikki can’t help but grin as Marzi stumbled in, lazy grin plastered on her face.

“I’m bored, wanna play…” She slurred, immediately heading for Nikki’s bed. Nikki tilted her head, amused. Marzi runs this show, yet Nikki’s somehow still surprised after all those months.

She takes in her appearance. She hasn’t changed out of her stage clothes, and it seems like she probably just came back from whatever prospects she finds herself in. Her face is flushed bright pink, and it compliments her pale complexion. Her black skirt and low cut top make Nikki’s eyes wander, and Marzi had to pretend that she didn’t notice.

“You should really slow down Mars, it’s starting to get concerning seeing you like this.” Nikki comments, offhandedly. She quickly closes the door, turning back around to see Marzi flop onto her bed.

“You like seeing me like this!” Marzi giggled, her tone teasing. She hiccuped, then laughed again. Nikki felt her face flush.

Nikki hated that she was right. She was already so attracted to her older bandmate, she was always a mystery Nikki wanted so desperately to figure out. It was embarrassing to admit it, but something about how Marzi looked and acted when wasted turned her on so much. She couldn’t hide those glances when they were at a bar together. Marzi drinking vodka straight from the bottle, slowly getting louder and more abrasive as she got more and more wasted. She liked watching the older woman lose herself more and more, her inhibitions slowly melting away. She liked seeing her become so vulnerable. Marzi would never usually let her emotions show, she was a box fully guarded with at least five locks around her. Late at night, under the sheets, she’d spill things. She’d let Nikki subtlety know how she felt about certain things. Whispering secrets, like they were at a sleepover and not in a tight embrace, sweaty skin touching skin.

Marzi was a quiet girl, modest and always having the vibe of having to take care of three kids. She kept herself out of trouble for so long, it was almost funny seeing her succumb to the party life the others girls had been living for the past four years. She was slowly becoming like them, messy and wild. Nikki loved it. Every night, like clockwork, Marzi would make her way to her. She always reeked of booze, always smiled and batted her eyelashes.

At first, Nikki hadn’t wanted to do anything. She was scared she was taking advantage of her. The first time Marzi came over, Nikki had simply pushed her in bed and forced her to sleep everything off. Then, Marzi laid down the law. She knew what she wanted, and Nikki was going to give her exactly that. After some trial and error, they worked up a routine that seemed natural enough. Nikki learned soon enough that Marzi liked it, liked being taken advantage of while in such a state. She was equally turned on by the idea. That was the only time they ever did anything though, and it had confused Nikki at first. She felt conflicted even after Marzi had reassured her it was fine. It took a while to finally be comfortable with it. It became their little secret.

Here they were now. Marzi was sprawled on Nikki’s bed, skirt lifting just above her thigh, just enough to show off a sliver of her pink panties. It made Nikki blush and look away. That was something she’d never expected from her. Marzi only ever wore black, she had to be forced to wear red for the ‘Smokin in The Boys Room’ video. Yet, here she is wearing the most girly underwear. It looked like something Victoria would wear. Then again, maybe it was hers. Marzi closed her eyes, letting out a sigh that almost sounded like a moan to Nikki. Her breath hitches. She finds herself slowly moving closer to the bed. Marzi opened his eyes again, lazy smile turning into an excited grin. Her glazed over eyes catching Nikki’s, full of fiery passion.

“Whatcha waiting for?” She asked, voice light and airy. It was more playful than demanding, but Nikki doesn’t care. It’s incentive enough to pounce on her.

Her hands are all over her, roaming from chest to stomach to hips. Her hands slip under her shirt, groping her small breasts. Marzi doesn’t even try to hide her moans. Though she’s always been insecure about her size, Nikki knows how to touch her, to make her come undone. She swiped at her nipples, earning a surprised gasp. Marzi’s head tilts back in pleasure. Nikki teases her though, slowly gliding her hands down, in a way she knows is torturing her. She grips her hips, rough. Marzi hisses, and pushes herself closer to Nikki. It’s a subtle way of telling her to hurry up, but Nikki ignores her, trailing her fingers down slowly. To distract her, she leans in. Pulling her guitarist into a slow but passionate kiss, she gets closer and closer to her target.

Marzi moans into the kiss, trying to guide Nikki’s hands closer, but Nikki pulls away. She digs a hand into Marzi’s hair, griping slightly. She gives a little tug, a slight punishment for trying to take the reins. Marzi might be getting what she wants, but Nikki’s in control here. She agreed to give herself fully to her bassist and that’s exactly what she needs to remind her. Biting her lower lip slightly, Nikki resumes her little show. She’s fiddling with the hem of Marzi’s skirt, slowly tugging them down. Marzi is whimpering now, throbbing with the ache of anticipation. Her grip on Nikki’s hands is tight, but Nikki pretends not to feel a thing. Inside, she’s a ball of nerves ready to explode. Her heartbeat has now travelled to her own pants and it takes everything in her to not rip off her own pants and get off right in front of her needy girl. Her breathing picks up as she helps Marzi steady her hips as she pulls down her skirt fully. The lower half of her body is almost bare. Nikki feels like an old Victorian man coming across a woman’s bare ankle for the first time. Marzi looks satisfied, she loves seeing the bassist look so flustered.

Nikki is now face to face with those pastel pink panties. She doesn’t make a move, preferring to take in the sight in front of her. Those beautiful round white thighs that look so soft, perfect creamy skin ready to bite. Peel back the underwear and find out the carpet doesn’t actually match the drapes. What a fun sight it was to see for the first time. Nikki doesn’t remember it, but she actually gasped when they did it for the first time. She didn’t know why she was so surprised, those bright blue eyes gave it away in the first place. Still, it was her own little secret. The goth girl was actually a redhead. What a surprise. Now, she slowly takes off the pink underwear, basks in the sight of that red bush.

Her face is nearly buried between Marzi’s legs, and she gently pushes them farther apart. Then, she glances up. She’s watching her. The flush from her face slowly travelling to her chest. Marzi groans, lips apart. It takes her awhile to find the words.

“Nikki, please…I need it.” She whispered, voice thick with arousal. Nikki tried to hide the grin on her face.

With that, she gets to work, working her tongue Theo the folds, digger deeper and deeper. Marzi’s reactions always get to her. Her little moans and gasps, she writhes around and grinds her hips a little. Nikki holds her down, hands clamping down tight enough to stop their movements. Nikki moaned at the sight of it. Marzi letting go completely, becoming frenetic over the flick of her tongue. The vibration of the hum just sends Marzi into another frenzy. Nikki could tell she was getting worked up, getting close. Nikki stopped, removing her face from the depths of those ghost white thighs. Marzi whined and pouted at Nikki, wondering what the hold up was. She lets out a gasp and a hiccup when she feels one of Nikki’s dainty little fingers slide inside her. The sounds she made lights a fire in Nikki’s stomach.

She knows exactly how to get Marzi off, exactly what buttons to push. After countless of nights together, she’s refined the process to a tee. She starts slow, rubbing gently. She tried not to laugh at how impatient Marzi is. She grunts, frustrated and tries to grind her hips again. Nikki simply holds her down with her free hand, slapping a thigh as punishment. She’s not surprised at the moan that produced, she’s acutely aware of the thing she has for spanking. They’d have to discuss how to incorporate that one later on. Marzi pleads, her voice soft, but strained.

“Please.” “Harder, please.” “Oh Nikki, I need it now!”

Nikki complied, the heat in her stomach travelling downwards. Her pussy is throbbing now and she needs that sweet release. She nearly crumpled right then and there. She goes deeper, rubbing faster. She revels in the sounds she’s forcing out of Marzi. Moans turn into squeals, turn into little cries of pleasure. Finally, she squirts, hard. It’s a beautiful sight to behold. Her back arched slightly, her head tilted back, mouth wide open. Her icy blue eyes rolling to the back of her head. She moans so loud, Nikki is so sure the people next door could hear it. Everything about her is so obscene in this moment and Nikki loves it. Loves drinking her ecstasy in. She loves her beautiful, dirty girl.

Marzi’s eyes tear up as she catches her breath. The comedown is the best part for Nikki. She can’t take it anymore. Marzi’s face is flushed, a barely noticeable sheen of sweat on her forehead. Unprovoked, she slides her panties down until they’re off and then slowly works her shirt over her head. She throws the sullied clothes onto the floor and flops down on her back. She watches Nikki as she shimmies out her own pants and shoves a hand down her own underwear. Marzi, a picture of beauty. Long down hair fanning onto the pillow, chest heaving as she takes shallow breaths. She looked on in amusement as she watches Nikki slip into a frenzy of her own. Nikki replays those few minutes on repeat. Marzi, back arched and moaning. Whimpers and whines a melody in her head. Those big blue eyes rolling back in pleasure. She bites her lip as she rubs vigorously, rough and uncaring. She needs release now, screwing her eyes shut. She doesn’t care that this is the first time she’s been this pent up in front of Marzi. She doesn’t care if she watches or not.

That is, until she feels hands on her, cupping a tit, going lower. This is a first, it throws her off. Before she knows it, she too comes hard, hissing and cursing under her breath. Her heads swimming and all she feels is warm and electric. She finds herself slumping down next to Marzi, who grins at Nikki’s tired expression. That’s how she knows it was a good time, when Nikki is absolutely spent. She has to gently help her take off her pants, pulls her shirt off of her and settles in closer to her. They don’t clean up anything. Their sticky thighs don’t bother them.

Nikki holds Marzi as she slips in and out of consciousness. They’re both tired from performing both on and off stage. Nikki looks over at her guitarist, her eyes continuously flutters open and close. She doesn’t know why, but she wants to confront her.

“Do you really like feeling like this all the time?” She asked. She keeps her voice quiet, nonchalant. For a while there isn’t an answer and Nikki’s sure she’s fallen asleep. She doesn’t know when she’ll ever get another chance to talk about it. Then, Marzi lazily looks up at her.

“Fuck no…then again, does anyone?” She replied, with a question of her own. She sounded sleepy, like she’d fall asleep any moment. Nikki grimaced.

“Mars, I’m getting sober. I won’t be able to handle any of you pretty soon.” She informed her, slightly joking. She doesn’t want her to get upset. Like she was spoiling her fun.

“I know. I’m proud of you.”

“I think you should consider it too.”

Marzi frowned. Nikki wonders if she overstepped. As much as she wanted to help Marzi, get her to stop whatever it was she was doing, she knew it wasn’t up to her.

“But then we wouldn’t get to do this anymore.” She whispered, gesturing between the two of them. She sounded disappointed, which made Nikki almost laugh. How cute of her to be worried that all this would disappear.

While she did wonder at times if any of this would have happened had Marzi been sober the first time around. Would either of them been able to work up the courage to make the first move, without the booze or drugs? Nikki doesn’t want to think about it. They’ve gone too far now to just stop. She didn’t want it to stop.

“We can still do this, I want to. I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t give this up.” Nikki reassured her, looking down and caressing her cheek. Marzi blushed, looking away. Nikki loved how bashful she got, it was especially funny after she’d just torn her apart and sewn her back together just a couple of minutes ago.

“I hope you’re right.” She finally replied, getting as close as possible to Nikki. She’s facing her, her face buried in her chest. Nikki chuckles as she too snuggled closer, arm draped over her waist.

“You bet I am, you’re stuck with me now.” She mumbled as she finds herself slowly getting sucked into a deep sleep.

As always, she’s letting Marzi get her way.

(anyways like I said, send ur hate for this little thing to my dms…I literally wrote this in a hazy little frenzy idc to edit this I think this explains everything wrong with me. still, I enjoyed every bit of this and where else to post this but the cringiest site on the internet. I need u ppl to post more fem!crüe smut so I don’t have to do it anymore because it’ll only get worse from here. idc if no one reads this since I’ve been posting most of my stuff for myself. ok I’ll stop talking now, thanks if you read this thanks if you don’t, BYE!!)