#at any given moment it can be assumed that i wish i was wearing a corset

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

any other neurodivergent folks with Sensory Stuff find that the structure of shapewear is actually really pleasant and soothing but also you feel kinda Ick about giving money to an industry largely built on making women feel bad about themselves or is that just me haha?

[6okuto]

EARLY PROMISE

gn!reader | 1.3k words, you see the ring iwaizumi wants to propose with a little (very) early

there’s a box behind shirts that iwaizumi no longer wears in his closet.

maybe that’s why you’ve never seen it before. you never would have, were you not given permission to look for clothes to donate while he went on a run.

it’s small, velvet, and inside there’s a ring that, any other day, you would have lingered to watch for as long as possible at a jewelry store.

but you’re not at the mall, nor are you currently being proposed to. you’re at home, standing alone while your stomach churn, and fingers tremble as you stare at the box in your palm where, right now, it decisively should not be. “fuck.”

“babe?”

the sound of the door and his keys accompany hajime’s voice from the entryway. if you listen closely, above your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you can hear him kick off his shoes—them hitting the step that he’s tripped on a few times after long nights with friends and drinks.

he shouldn’t be home yet.

you will your voice to work. “yeah?”

“you looking through the closet already?”

“...yeah?” there’s a questioning lilt at the end as your eyes scan around, his engagement ring—your engagement ring?—still in your hands.

and you know the pattern of hajime’s walk. you know his usual pace, how the floorboards creak as he walks down the hall toward your bedroom. he’s steady—slippers sometimes dragging across the wood if he’s tired, quiet in the morning when he thinks you’re still asleep.

today his footsteps come closer, a little faster, a little heavier than usual.

you assume it’s from the same nerves as yours.

“i forgot, there’s, uh, some shirts i’m keeping that i don’t want—”

hajime opens the door and spots you easily, standing in the middle of the closet as if you were the worst criminal alive, caught stealing in broad daylight.

you to see.

“to throw away,” he finishes, shoulders dropping. his voice quiets to a whisper, “shit.”

silence circles the both of you.

the velvet feels warm in your palm—much heavier than it was a moment ago. you wish you had an analogue clock in your room instead of hajime’s digital. maybe its ticking could take off some of the weight you feel at the sight of him standing a few feet away. maybe you could stare down its hands, listen to its rhythm, let it guide your breathing instead of standing with bated breath, chest unmoving while hajime’s rises as he catches his own.

seconds pass and you flounder, mouth opening and closing while you stand across from each other, neither sure who should speak first.

you don’t think this is how proposals are supposed to go.

your eyes flicker to the still open drawer to your right.

and you walk over, crouch to put the box where it was, pat the old obscure band t-shirt at the top of the pile in front of it, close the drawer, and go back to stand where you were, hands clenched into fists on your sides.

hajime blinks.

“did you really just put it back?” he asks, a little breathy as if he wants to laugh.

you look to the wall beside him then back at his face, as if you could be confused about his question. “...put what back?”

and this time, hajime really does laugh. and then he shakes his head, the way he does when you ask a silly question. “hon—”

“no, no, i’m not—you—that was—” you shake your head and frown. you wish his laughter would comfort you the way it always does, but you think you need to let guilt stay, gnaw for a little while longer. “this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

he tilts his head and smiles, just a little. “you’re telling me.”

“hajime.” you purse your lips. “i’m sorry. i feel like i just ruined whatever you were planning.”

hajime huffs and walks toward you, arms reaching out to hold yours. his hands are cool from the morning air, and goosebumps cover your skin as his touch runs from your elbows to your hands, where his fingers find their place in between yours. he’s looking down at them as he speaks—the ones that had held the box, to be specific. “it’s okay, it’s not your fault i forgot. plus i decided to run back a block instead of just texting or calling.”

“you panicked.”

“obviously.”

letting go of one hand, you lightly push his chest. but his hand follows, this time holding you to his heart. you give him a look. “i would’ve done the same thing if i was as fast as you. and i don’t know, i could’ve checked somewhere else. or closed my eyes. or wiped my memory.”

“you would’ve checked eventually, and closing your eyes is not effective for what you’re doing.”

“mind wipe would’ve been okay?”

“how would i have known?”

“...the mind wipe-y gun in my hand.”

he snorts. “what? it keeps a little history of your memory wipes?”

“i don’t know, maybe they have those. do you have one?”

“we’re getting off topic,” hajime chides, though there’s no real anger behind his lopsided smile and tilt of his head.

you sigh. there’s no average way of dealing with the topic of exposed proposal plans, so the best you can offer is a small, closed mouth smile of your own. “...you really wanna marry me?”

he reaches to squish your cheeks. “no, that’s for the other person i’ve been dating since high school and live with while you’re asleep.” you roll your eyes and clasp your hand over his.

“of course i wanna marry you. i’ve wanted to marry you for years,” he says with ease, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well,”—you fidget—“that’s good to know.” your reply is soft, and you will yourself to ignore the warmth that creeps up your neck and face. your eyes fall to where hajime’s thumb rubs the back of your hand, if only to avoid his gaze. “i...can i ask how you were thinking of proposing or is that weird? or maybe you shouldn’t tell me so you can still do it.”

he pauses.

you look at him. “hajime?”

he tenses at his name, sucking in his bottom lip before answering. “well, i was kind of leaving that part of the plan for later—”

“i didn’t even let you plan the proposal?”

“—but if you think about it,” he continues, already aware of how you’d react, “you just saved me a bunch of anxiety by implying you’d say yes.”

your mouth falls open, hands moving away from his. “i already knew i fucked up our engagement, but i really did fuck up our engagement.”

“you didn’t fuck up our engagement,” hajime breathes out your name as he moves to hold your shoulders.

your head falls forward, landing against his shoulder. “i fucked up our engagement so bad.”

your boyfriend, your sweet boyfriend who always seems to come out of situations calmer than you, snickers, and you hit his chest half-heartedly.

“why are you laughing, oh my god—”

“i’m not laughing—”

“shut the fuck up, you’re laughing—”

“i’m sorry—you just, you didn’t fuck anything up, okay?” his laughter quiets as his arms wrap around you. “i can still propose and keep it a surprise, and i’m pretty sure it’s better you found out while i wasn’t in the middle of the plan, yeah? we just…know your answer already which, seriously, is a relief, so stop beating yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault.”

silence wraps around the both of you again—softer this time. an extra comfort intertwined with hajime’s voice and arms holding you.

moving away to look at him, you let out a deep breath. “okay, but i still feel bad.”

“babe—”

“as if you wouldn’t feel bad,” you retort, which your boyfriend responds to with nothing but a look that says you’re right. “is there anything i can do to make up for it?’

he hums and taps your hips, thumbs fitting perfectly against you. “promise to say yes when i actually propose?”

and this time it’s your turn to laugh, though it’s more a puff of air followed by rolling eyes and a kiss to his cheek. “i can probably promise that.”

little nia luvring comeback Bc my brain Sounds Like a garbage disposal + nails on a chalkboard And only these fictional characters r keeping me going. Hope u all thought of me for a moment the past 2/3 months

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @momoewn @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie @sirimirihiro @mylahrins @aria-chikage @heyitstial

[mrsstarkey1]

whipped - rafe cameron

summary: rafe totally isn't whipped for you

word count: 1.5k

warnings: just curse words

a/n: check out my most recent rafe fic !

"Alright, what the fuck is up with you?" Topper finally asked Rafe, grabbing onto his shoulder. "We're at a party surrounded by chicks and booze, and you're over here sitting alone looking like you're gonna kill yourself."

Rafe shook Topper’s hand off of him, smoothing out his sweatshirt that Topper had just grabbed onto, "get your hands off me, man." 

Topper held his hands up, "I'm just worried about you, dude."

Rafe simply rolled his eyes, reaching down to the cooler by his chair to grab a beer. He cracked open the can and took a long sip, "happy now?"

Topper scoffed, "whatever, man. At least do a bump," he said, reaching into his back pocket.

Rafe shook his head, "I'm good."

"Oh come on," Topper started, beginning to pull out the plastic bag, only to be stopped by Rafe's grip on his arm.

"I said fucking no, Top. Jesus."

"Alright, alright," he said with a defeated sigh, turning to walk back toward the lively side of the party.

He stopped when he reached Kelce, putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, you know what's been up with Rafe lately?"

Kelce shook his head a little, "whatchu mean?" he slurred.

Topper pointed back to wear Rafe was sitting in a chair, arms crossed, just staring straight in front of him, "look at the fucker. Offered him a bump and he said no. He's acting extra bitchy than normal."

Kelce shrugged his shoulders carelessly and started to walk away, but stopped abruptly when a thought entered his mind. "Y'know what it might be? That y/n chick isn't here," he said, eyes widened in realization.

Topper gave him a puzzled look, wracking his brain for any recognition of a y/n. "Who?"

Kelce rolled his eyes, "come on man. Y/n y/l/n. She was in a couple of our classes senior year. Rafe ran into her at that bonfire a couple weeks ago, remember? He was smiling and giggling and shit and blew us off when we asked him about it," Kelce only paused briefly before hitting Toppers chest, "yeah, yeah now that I think about it, he's in an oddly good mood when she's around, and extra douchebaggy when she's not. Shit's crazy, man," he said with a shake of his head.

Topper vaguely remembered the girl he was talking about. He thought for a moment, a plan forming in his slightly intoxicated mind. "You got her number?" he asked Kelce.

"I think. Here," he mumbled, shoving his phone against his chest before taking off toward the girl that had just called his name. If Rafe was actually whipped over this girl, Topper was going to figure it out.

After calling your number about seven times, he finally got an answer. "Jesus Christ Kelce, what do you want?" you'd asked, irritated tone evident in your voice.

"Heyyy y/n, this is Topper Thornton. What are you up to right now?" He asked in his nicest voice he could pull off.

Topper could practically hear you roll your eyes, "currently I'm wishing I'd never given my phone number to Kelce. What do you want?"

"I just wanted to invite you to this party I'm at right now," he said, only now realizing that he had no reason to back up this invitation without spoiling his plan. "It's uh- really fun. And I was just sitting here thinking, 'y/n y/l/n would really like this party'," he said, slapping his hand on his forehead at his own words.

On the other side of the phone, you were sitting in your car outside the party you could only assume Topper was talking about now. You were planning on attending the party from the jump, you'd just lost track of time watching TV. "What's so good about the party, Topper?" you played along for the fun of it. 

"Uhh-" Topper thought for a little too long, "there's uh, beer?" He said, sounding unsure of his words.

You rolled your eyes, but composed yourself. "You know what, Top? You've convinced me. I'm on my way," you said with fake sincerity, smiling at your own acting.

"Really? Great, see ya," Topper hung up the phone, a proud smile on his face. Now all he had to do was watch and see if Kelce was right.

You opened your car door after a couple moments, and made your way inside the house. You squeezed through the crowd of people in the living room, trying to get to a less crowded area.

You stopped in the kitchen, scanning the room for your friend that had invited you. She was nowhere to be seen, so you opted to go get a drink first.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler, sipping it slowly as you leaned against the kitchen counter, still looking around the room for your friend. Your eyes landed on a familiar figure sitting on a chair outside, only visible through the glass doors. You smiled a little, immediately walking toward the back door.

"You look like you're having fun, Cameron," you said once you reached him, sitting down on the table in front of him, your knees touching his.

Rafe's lips twitched into an immediate smile, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. He leaned forward a little so he could hear you over the voices of everyone around you, "hey, how long have you been here?"

"Just got here. Why? You been looking for me?" You asked with a smirk, putting your free hand out to shove his shoulder lightly.

Rafe looked down, an involuntary red flush starting on his cheeks. "Course not," he waved the accusation off quickly, in a comically unconvincing tone. "But I am glad you're here. These parties bore the hell out of me."

"Oh come on, Rafe Cameron bored at a party?" your eyes flickered down to the beer in his hand. You grabbed it from him, eyes widening at the realization it was nearly full, "and not even drinking a beer?" You questioned.

Your eyebrow raised as Rafe simply shrugged, "just not feeling it recently, I guess. The last party I actually had fun at was Kelce's a couple weeks ago, remember?" his smile widened as he spoke, "when we absolutely demolished everyone at beer pong."

You laughed with a nod, "course I remember. You're the best pong partner I've had in years," you said truthfully, a smile plastered on your face.

Rafe's expression turned impossibly more bright, eyes lighting up at the sight of your smile and the angelic sound of your laugh. He tore his eyes from you after a moment, so he could actually form words. "Do you uh- have any plans for later tonight?"

You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a shriek as cold liquid splashed on your shoulder and down your back. You stood up abruptly, wringing out your now beer-soaked shirt.

"Oh shit," a guy slurred from beside you, "my bad."

Topper got up quickly from his chair across the room after witnessing the incident, starting to move toward the two of you. He had just happened to look over just as- okay fine, he was watching intently the whole time.

He prepared himself as he walked to pull Rafe off of the guy that had just soaked you in beer - no doubt in his mind that Rafe would start a fight.

Rafe stood up from his chair quickly, only spending half a second sending a glare toward the drunk idiot who'd done this. He placed his hands on your shoulders, “are you alright?” he asked, worried eyes scanning over you.

Topper's eyes narrowed as he watched Rafe turn his attention fully to you, as the drunk guy stumbled back into the house. He watched intently as the rest of the scene played out, completely opposite from what he expected.

You laughed, nodding your head. “I’m good, I just reek of Bud Light now,” you glanced down at your shirt, “and I look ridiculous,” you said with a chuckle.

Rafe quickly unzipped his jacket, shrugging it off of his shoulders and placing it loosely over yours, "what an asshole," he muttered.

You slipped your arms into the sleeves, chuckling a little at how they fell so far past your hands. You rolled the sleeves up a little, and zipped up the sweatshirt. “Thanks, Rafe. My hero,” you said with a grateful smile.

Rafe’s grin widened uncontrollably at your words, and he quickly tried to shake the giddy feeling off of him, "you uh- you wanna go inside? It looks a little less crowded in there.” 

You nodded, slipping your hand into his as you navigated through the crowd of people together.

Topper let out a shocked breath as he watched you and Rafe walk through the doors and out of his sight. "Well I’ll be damned," he muttered to himself with a shake of his head, "he is whipped."

taglist (message me to be added!): @rafes-bae @willowpains @maybankslover @housekeeperjjswife

REQUESTS OPEN!!

check out my obx masterlist and most recent fic

[chaosandmarigolds]

cztery 🤍 of EMS Au thingy!! (I seriously need a name)

summary: Simon Riley is finding himself utterly in love with the newest paramedic on base, unfortunately he had the social skills of a five year old. fem reader!

Mary pats your shoulder as you stand in the briefing room, sure you had to give speeches and pathetic ice breaker introductions but this felt so…odd. Wearing what you assumed would be your new uniform, your home country patch on your arm along with the Star of Life proudly above it. Your blue EMS pants traded in for black tactical pants- not all that different, but much heavier. Beside you Mary stood, wearing a set of scrubs that looked oh so comfortable.

“And that’s Captain Price, he…well they’re all your boss but you can boss them around- it’s great.” She whispered in your ear with a little laugh.

The meeting you had with the Captain had been brief, short but you assumed he was kind. However that may be a flaw within yourself, as you always thought everyone was kind until proven not. So you nods, “Is he kind?”

Mary shrugs, “As long he’s gotten his cup of joe and a cigar.”

“that’s awful for him.”

“You can fight him if you want, waste of time and breath though-“ her words faltered off as he motioned for you to come forward and she gives you a little shove.

Your steps were calculated, slow, the boots they had given you were a half a size big and they weighed about the same as your EMS ones- as they were military grade, however at the least those fit. The reason you chose this profession is that you didn’t freeze, you didn’t get scared, but in that moment you felt everything in your crawling. By the time you were able to adjust you were already up front and apparently the captain had already given his whole spew on how amazing of a medic you were, all eyes were on you.

His eyes were on you.

And what the fuck was he-

if your face blinking suddenly to the man who rightfully looked terrifying wasn’t a good message that you were confused, you’re stammered response to the captain asking if you had anything to say would. “Uh, yeah, um, l-like,” you couldn’t tare your eyes away, it was like a weeping angel, look away and it would ruin you, however with a shuddered breath you go on, “like the captain said, I’ve been in this profession since I was 18 and I am immensely grateful for the opportunity to aid you.” —

Mary spun around in the chair, looking over the charts, watching you as you laid face down on one of the cots. “Gonna suffocate, Stitch.”

With a sniffle you turn your face to look at Mary, “I made a fool of myself, I ought to suffocate- death is kinder.”

“ought?” Mary laughs and then stands, grabbing your wrists to stand, “Jesus go back to bridgerton you drama queen, cmon, up she goes.”

A snarky remark was on the tip of your tongue when the door opened, the commotion of the hangar was hidden behind the steel doors, so as they opened the roaring noise came inside, and only for a moment behind they slid back shut. However you wished they hadn’t opened in the first place, because there stood the monstrous thing that caused your humiliation. Black gear, towering above any normal human and there sat on his face was a skull mask, as if it were some holiday.

Mary, however, seemed unfazed, “Jesus Christ, knock first! We coulda been indecent.”

The thing made a grunting noise in response walking forward and lightly nudging her to the side until it was just you and him, he was human. You assumed. As he did have eyes, eyes that looked like they were tearing you apart.

“Didn’t have the chance to have a proper meeting, Lieutenant Simon Riley,” he took your hand, forcibly at that- as you as it squeezing your wrist (bad habit, you would check your pulse when stressed), “At your service.”

If you could see Mary’s face it would be utterly flabbergasted and shock.

“Lieutenant….Riley?” You echo the name again, not bothering to pull your hand away because A- you didn’t think he would let you. That thing was the awkward man you had picked up last night? “Oh! I am so sorry, I um…” you let out a breath, “I didn’t recognize-“

“ T’s normal. Have a Good day.” Just as quickly as he left he had spun on his heel and left, leaving you standing perfectly still and Mary in some shock.

She lets out a laugh and looks to you, “Maybe we are in Bridgerton.”

You give her a look, a frown evident on your face.

(annnd that’s it :) )

[joyful-enchantress]

On the Naughty List (18+) | Loki x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: Everyone has been so welcoming and kind and encouraging with my first fic that I decided to try my hand at another one! This is also my first try with smut, so apologies if it is awkward at all. I hope you like it! It is another installment in the Winter Warmers Collection curated by @lokisgoodgirl

Genre/Warnings: Smut (18+), soft(ish) Dom!Loki, here be filth, some fluff too, established relationship, language, restraints, spanking, nipple play (clamps), temperature play, edging/orgasm delay, begging, oral f!receiving, choking (if you squint)

Word Count: 4377

"Stop, Loki! Ahhhhh, stop, please!" you shrieked wildly as Loki playfully but mercilessly pelted you with icy snowballs.

You loved seeing him like this, completely lost in a moment of carefree fun. His eyes were alight with that familiar glint of mischief and the midday rays reflecting off the surrounding snow seemed to dance across his porcelain skin. He was beautiful. And he was yours. An arrogant smile slowly melted into his features as he responded to your request for a ceasefire.

"What's the matter, darling? Can't handle everything I have to offer?" he quipped with a wink.

Damn him and his relentless innuendo. A slight blush crept across your cheeks at his words.

"Oh, I know I can handle all of you, Laufeyson. I've done it many times before," you decided to give it right back to him. "What I can't handle is any more snowballs to the face or soaking through my coat. Not all of us have an endless tolerance for cold, you know!"

Given Loki's heritage, he required no protective outerwear during your childish winter antics. Not that you truly minded -- it meant you got to enjoy a better view of those sinful hands of his, the long, elegant fingers flexing dexterously as he packed the glittering snow into nearly perfect spheres. But, perhaps, his affinity for the cold did give him an unfair advantage in this case.

"I can think of several things I could do to warm you right up, love. Things I could do with my fingers..." he twirled his delectable digits seductively and nearly had you drooling. "...or my mouth..." his skillful tongue peered through the curtains that were his luscious lips and slowly swiped along his top lip just before he smirked knowingly and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. "...or my cock."

Had the temperature suddenly risen? Your thighs clenched together involuntarily, your body already yearning for the sweet friction, and the slightest whimper escaped your lips at his salacious words.

He paced towards you, closing the distance until there was none left, and his warm breath was fanning across your neck as he bent to whisper in your ear.

"Although," he continued, "judging by your reaction thus far, I could probably keep you warm with my words alone." His voice seemed to drop an octave, and assumed that familiar huskiness that he reserved only for you in your most private moments with him. "Maybe we should test the theory, hmm? Would you like that, darling?" His tongue darted out to lick the shell of your ear.

"Yes, Loki..." you breathed, your own voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let's be done with our game and go inside. I need you."

"As you wish, my love," he placed a wet kiss along your jawline. "Follow me."

He began the short walk back to the cozy home the two of you shared, his broad back to you. The wet spots he left on your ear and jaw began to sting in the frigid winter air. You absent-mindedly reached up to soothe the ache with your gloved fingertips, and as you turned to admire the way the dark jeans he was wearing hugged his perfect ass as he strode towards the house, the temptation was too great. You simply could not resist.

THWAK!

A perfectly thrown snowball hit him in the back of the head, bursting into a flurry of snow that clung to his ebony curls and drifted down his neck and across his back.

"Oh you're in for it now, pet." He turned around, ever so slowly, his lips upturned into a menacing smile and his emerald eyes burning with the promise of what was to come.

You decided to play right into his hands.

"Have I earned a spot on the naughty list, Sir?"

He gazed back at you with a hungry expression, his pupils dilating with lust; you knew the effect that particular word had on him. He began stalking towards you, like a predator cornering his prey.

"That goes without saying, Y/N. Your misbehavior is simply unacceptable. Now, do you know what happens to naughty girls?"

He was right in front of you once again, towering over you and looking down his nose directly into your eyes.

"They don't get any presents?" you suggest with feigned innocence.

"They must be punished." he declared with such authority, it left no room for argument.

"Oh really? Just what exactly do you -- AHH!"

Before you could even finish your snarky response, he had you draped over his shoulder, your eyes staring at his perfect backside and his strong arm flexed behind your knees, holding you in place. His other hand rose up to give your unsuspecting bottom a warning smack.

"No more questions, darling. You're in enough trouble as it is."

He carried you inside, kicking off his shoes along the way, and before you knew it, he was tossing you on the plush bed like a ragdoll. The deep emerald-colored satin sheets twisted in your fingertips as you stared up, wide-eyed, at your husband; gone from his face was the carefree playfulness and in its place was a stern demeanor. There was no question who was in charge here. And you loved it.

With a snap of his fingers, a blanket of green light engulfed your body and every scrap of clothing you had been wearing disappeared. Loki, still fully clothed, hovered over you, caging you in and bringing his face within inches of yours.

"Now let's go over the rules, shall we?" he trailed, his voice dripping with lust and power, "Rule number one, you will refer to me only as Sir. You will not call me by my name unless and until I command it. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," you gasped, barely audible over the hammering of your own heart.

"Good girl." He reached a hand down and began stroking your breast, eventually rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Rule number two, you will do as I say, without question or hesitation. I do not like to repeat myself. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, Sir," you barely suppressed a moan.

"And finally, rule number three..." You whimpered as he tweaked your nipple, hard. "...You do not come until I give you my express permission. I decide whether and when you will have your pleasure, isn’t that right, pet?” his lips curved into a wicked grin as he finished reminding you of the last rule.

“O-of course, Sir,” you gulped, anxiously and eagerly awaiting his next move.

"Now, do you remember your safe word, darling?" his eyes momentarily softened as he asked you, ever your loving and devoted husband, making sure you knew you were safe and loved.

"Yes, Sir. Red," you assured him with a breathy whisper.

"Good." The fleeting moment of softness had passed, his expression shifting back to one of unrelenting dominance, emerald eyes alight with thoughts of the diabolical plans he had for you. "Let's begin."

His hand rose from your breast up over your collarbone to its final destination around your neck, giving it a firm squeeze as he captured your lips in a ferocious kiss; it was all tongues and teeth as he invaded your mouth, claiming what was his with urgency. Eventually, he allowed you to catch your breath and he trailed his lips down your jawline, to suck and nip at your pulse point as you lay there panting.

"I want you to kneel on the bed, facing the headboard." he rasped against your ear before rising up off the bed to allow you the room to move into position.

You wasted no time, scrambling up so you could obey him and avoid furthering your punishment. As you were twisting around and adjusting yourself into the perfect submissive kneel, you caught a glimpse of him removing his dark emerald sweater, leaving him in the white button-down he was wearing underneath, those damn dark wash jeans, and his socked feet.

He leisurely strode towards the head of the bed and turned to face you, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and beginning to roll up the sleeves to his elbows. You bit your lip, the sight of his forearms flexing as he manhandled the garment enough to send a fresh pool of arousal to your core.

"Hands in front of you, wrists together," he commanded.

As you did so, he conjured a bit of black silken cord -- enough to bind your wrists together tightly while leaving some extra hanging on either side of the intricate knot. Once he was satisfied that the rope would keep you sufficiently restrained, he turned to reach into the nightstand where you kept your toys for nights such as this. You could hear the familiar metallic clink of chains bumping into each other as he pulled a toy out of the drawer. The clamps.

"We haven't played with these in a while, pet," he said with a devilish snarl. "I want you to feel them sway and tug every time I strike that perfect ass of yours."

You couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips at his words. "As you wish, Sir."

He worked your nipples into firm peaks before attaching the clamps to them. You hissed as they bit into your sensitive flesh, providing an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. Before you could fully adjust to the sensation, he was pulling on the extra cord that was hanging from your bound wrists and tying it to the top of the headboard. This forced you to bend forward, head between your arms, ass raised slightly - and presented perfectly - as you remained on your knees. The chain that connected the clamps swayed with your movement, tugging on your sore nipples with each sweeping arc, causing you to moan wantonly.

"Hmmm,” he hummed in approval as he situated himself beside you on the bed, one hand at the small of your back - a reminder to remain in position - the other rubbing and squeezing your bottom, the gentleness a stark contrast to the harsh stings you knew were to come. “My dirty whore of a wife seems to be enjoying herself, and I’ve barely begun,” he chuckled darkly. “You will count each strike aloud, and when I am finished, you will thank me for them. I think 10 strikes ought to do for tonight, pet. Oh, and do remember, you are not allowed to come.”

“Yes, Sir,” you groaned desperately. Before you knew it, the first strike hit your backside with a loud SMACK. Just as he had planned, the chain between your tortured nipples was swaying wildly. “One,” you squeaked.

His hand came down against your ass again, this time on the opposite cheek.

“Two, Sir.” You let out a shaky breath.

The next slap seemed to echo throughout the room.

“Ahhhh! Three, Sir!”

After the third smack, his hand caressed down your backside and his fingers dipped between your soft folds. “Ohh, love. We’re only three strikes in, and you’re absolutely soaking. Do you think you’ll make it?” he asked with feigned concern. You could do nothing but whimper in response. “Oh how I do love those pretty noises you make,” he crooned.

He resumed his work, each smack to your bottom bringing more pain than the last… and sending more arousal straight to your dripping core. After the seventh strike, he moved the hand that had been resting innocently at the small of your back to the chain that was dangling from your breasts and gave a sharp tug.

“Aaaauunnghhh! Please, Sir,” you moaned. Whether you were begging him to stop or to give you more, you didn’t know.

“Shhhhh, pet. Just three more, you’re doing so well for me.” As he soothed you with his words, he moved his hand from the chain to the apex of your thighs, and his fingers easily found your clit, peeking out from its hood and aching for attention. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his hand, shamelessly searching for more friction. “Ah ah ahh, there will be none of that writhing, darling,” he reprimanded you gently. “You will take what I give you and nothing more.”

“Sorry, Sir, I’ll be still,” you promised with a high pitched whine.

He kept his fingers on your clit, lazily playing with the bundle of nerves as he delivered the last three smacks to your bottom. It was just enough to tease you and keep you wanting more, never enough to fully satisfy you. Your frustration was mounting at this point, but deep down you knew you shouldn’t have been so delusional as to hope he’d allow you your release so easily.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, pet?” he mercifully reminded you as he pulled his hand away from your sensitive bud, rubbing soothing circles on your ass cheeks with the same hand he just used to blister them.

“Oh, yes, of course. Thank you, Sir, for spanking me.” you managed to coerce your tongue into forming the words despite your frazzled brain.

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed softly and with a snap of his fingers, the bindings disappeared and you collapsed forward onto the bed, limp and spent, but unbearably aroused. He quickly was at your side, and gently helped you to roll over onto your back. Finally, you could see his stunningly beautiful face again. His features had settled back into those of your loving husband, warmth and softness radiating from within. Stroking your cheek gently with his thumb, he bent down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that sent a fire straight to your core.

Loki diligently massaged your wrists and shoulders, helping to soothe the ache from your restraints; he then moved his attention to your breasts. “I’m going to remove these now, darling. One at a time. I know it will be intense but it will only last for a moment,” he whispered.

You winced and cried out as he removed each clamp, his warm mouth quick to softly caress each aching bud with his tongue and soothe the sting.

“What’s your color, Y/N?” he asked you gently, his gaze meeting yours, eyes swirling with concern and love for you — only you.

“Green, Sir. So Green.”

“Excellent.” His emerald orbs reignited with salacious promises and his lips twisted into a wicked grin. Gone again was the softness he had momentarily uncovered. “Then we’ll move into the next phase of your punishment.”

Bring it on, you thought to yourself, but all you managed outwardly was a cheeky smile.

He must have been losing patience for doing things manually, because with a flick of his wrist and a twirl of his elegant finger, more restraints appeared, securing you to the bed. This time, they were black fur-lined leather cuffs -- one around each wrist and one around each ankle. The leather straps connected to the cuffs ran across the mattress, off the sides, and under the bed, where they were secured. This ensured that you wouldn't be going anywhere, and that your legs were spread nice and wide for him; you couldn’t close them even if you wanted to. You also noted that your arms and shoulders were in a different position, not stretched over your head -- and he kept a small amount of slack so that you could adjust and rotate your shoulders if you needed to, so as not to strain your muscles to the point of pain. Your husband thought of everything.

As he strode once again to the night stand and began looking for the toy he needed for your next wave of delicious torment, you noticed his prominent manhood straining against his tight jeans, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself knowing the effect you had on him. Your smile quickly melted away into a mixture of primal lust and shaky nerves as you saw what he pulled out of the drawer, though. The magic wand and the large glass dildo.

“Now, pet, I’ve got to go downstairs and take care of something,” he began as he set the glass dildo down on the bench at the foot of the bed, within easy reach, and clicked the wand on to the lowest setting. “I shouldn’t be gone for more than ten minutes, but I wouldn’t want you getting bored in my absence, so this should keep you occupied while I’m gone.” He placed the wand firmly against your throbbing clit and you couldn’t suppress the wanton moan that escaped your lips at the feeling. It would never be enough to give you release on this setting, it would only tease you and amplify your arousal, but damn if it didn’t feel so good. A wave of emerald light surrounded the wand, and you immediately knew he had enchanted it so that it would remain in place, no matter how much you bucked and squirmed. There was also no doubt in your mind that it would disappear immediately should you utter your safe word — the restraints, too, probably. You were always safe with him, even if he left you alone in the room to bask in the sweet torture he inflicted on you.

His hungry eyes raked over your naked body — bound and writhing — and his gaze met yours with a sinister smile before he departed the bedroom to head downstairs.

It felt like the longest ten minutes of your life. The wand was unrelenting, keeping you dangling on the edge of release, but never allowing you to fall over into bliss. No matter how you tried to grind your hips to increase the friction just enough to topple you over the edge, it was no use. Loki’s enchantment kept the wand exactly where he wanted it.

So lost were you in the sensation and the struggle for your orgasm, that you didn’t notice when he returned. That is, until the wand disappeared with a snap of his fingers, causing you to whine at the loss and open your eyes to the sight of your breathtaking husband, leaning casually against the dresser with a mug of steaming hot beverage in his hand; he was drinking in the sight of you, so desperate for the release only he could grant you. His eyes were burning with lust.

“Aren’t you going to welcome me back, pet?” he asked with a teasing smirk.

The asshole.

“Welcome back, Sir,” you managed to mutter between pants.

“That’s more like it.” He took a large gulp of the hot liquid — hot cocoa, you guessed, based on the smattering of foam the swig left on his top lip — and you watched with curiosity as he seemed to hold it in his mouth without swallowing. Setting the mug down on the bench, he picked up the glass dildo that you had all but forgotten about. Your eyes widened when you saw a tinge of blue creep across the skin of his hand, the smooth surface of the glass covered in a blanket of frost.

Without warning, he thrust the icy glass cock into your sopping cunt, the cold surface against your warm inner walls intensifying every sensation as it moved and twisted inside you. The sharp cry that rang from your throat was one of both surprise and unabashed primal lust. You saw his Adam’s apple bob sinfully as he finally swallowed the steaming liquid that was in his mouth, just before he winked at you and lowered his lips to latch around your neglected clit.

“Ohhhhh, Sir, ye- yesssss.” The stark contrast of the frigid length inside you and his warm mouth sucking and lapping at your sensitive bud was nearly too much to handle. You had enjoyed the skilled labor of your husband’s silver tongue many times before, but this was something entirely different. You could barely catch your breath, let alone form a coherent sentence.

“Mmmm…” he moaned salaciously, sending vibrations directly to your core. The familiar coil in your belly was winding tighter, threatening to snap into an earth-shattering orgasm. Just… a tiny… bit… more…

“…’m gonna come, Sir!” You whispered between whimpers and pants.

But he stopped. The frosted dildo and his mouth were both removed from your core. You whined desperately, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes at the loss, your impending orgasm ebbing away.

“You didn’t think you’d get release so soon, did you? Naughty girls don’t get to come so easily.” Loki’s eyes were ablaze with a ravenous hunger; you could see his lips and chin glistening with your sweet nectar, the flickering light of the candle in the corner of the room dancing across his face now, as the sun had set since the start of your debauched activities. He bent down to kiss you, his lips and tongue unrelenting against yours; you moaned at the taste of your arousal on his lips.

As he pulled away, allowing you both to catch your breath, you saw him refrost the glass toy and reach again for the mug to take another swig of hot cocoa into his mouth. Before you could protest, both had resumed their delectable torment, the icy tip of the dildo circling your aching clit before dipping inside you and being replaced with his hot mouth.

“Please, Sir,” you pleaded as he fucked you with the cold, hard dildo and swirled his hot tongue around your bundle of nerves. He reached one hand up to your breast, rolling and tweaking a pebbled nipple before switching to pay the same attention to the other hardened peak. Within minutes, you were there again, you could almost taste your impending orgasm. And again he stopped.

“Ohhh, pet, you taste sweeter than this cocoa,” he huskily groaned. “And look at you, so needy and desperate for me. Do you want release?” You whimpered and nodded your head as urgently as you could manage. “If you come tonight, it will be on my cock. And I want you to beg for it.”

His clothes disappeared in a flash of green light, leaving the entirety of his glorious form bare to your gaze for the first time that night. You slowly raked you eyes across every inch of him, admiring the way his lean muscles rippled and flexed underneath his perfect skin as he moved, and counting your lucky stars that he was yours.

“Please, Sir, pleeeeease give me your cock. I need it. I need you. Please make me come, Sir.” you shamelessly panted and begged, desperate for him and for the sweet release only he could give you.

He hovered over you on the bed; you could feel his rigid length against your thigh, the tip angry and red. He was just as desperate for release as you were. Bracing his weight on one forearm, he snaked the other hand across your collarbone with a featherlight touch before it settled firmly around your throat as he kissed you hungrily. So lost were you in the passion of the kiss that you barely noticed as he lined himself up at your entrance. With one perfectly angled thrust, he finally entered you, filling you to the hilt. Your breath hitched against his mouth; no matter how many times you took him, the sheer size of him ensured that the first few strokes would always take your breath away.

“You don’t have to wait any longer, darling.” He rasped against your ear as he began to thrust, rutting his hips against you with each stroke, the wiry curls at the base of his cock brushing against your clit. “Don’t hold back, and I won’t stop this time. Let yourself go and let me hear you when you topple over into bliss. Say my name as you come.”

It didn’t take long at all for you to reach the precipice, the coil at the base of your abdomen tightening almost immediately after the edging you had already endured. You were a panting, moaning mess while he worshipped you, trailing wet kisses along your neck and collarbone. His rhythm was becoming sloppier, and you knew he was close too.

“Ohhh Loki, yes, YESSS!” you gasped as the coil snapped, your inner walls squeezing him like a vice as you finally came, the earth-shattering orgasm causing your entire body to shake. “Yes, Loki. Loki…” You chanted his name like a mantra.

Before you had come down from your high, he came too, spilling his hot seed into you with a grunt. “Who do you belong to, love?”

“You, Loki, only you.”

Once his load was spent, he collapsed on top of you, your sweaty skin sliding against his own. The restraints immediately disappeared and you wrapped your arms around him as you both panted, coming down from your highs together.

“I love you, my darling wife,” he murmured against your ear a few moments later, before he placed a chaste kiss to your lips and rose from the bed. “Now let me take care of you.”

“I love you too, Loki…” you trailed, your mind still swimming in euphoria.

Loki got up and tended to you, bringing you a glass of water and helping you sit up to drink it, the cold liquid refreshing your parched throat. Then, he cleaned up the mess between your legs with his seidr and lifted you off the bed, carrying you bridal style into the en-suite bathroom and lowering you gently into the bathtub that he had already filled with hot water and your favorite lavender bath oil. He knelt beside the tub and kissed you tenderly, his elegant fingers wrapping through your tousled hair, thumb brushing your cheek lovingly. How lucky you were that he was yours.

“I’ll go down and start a fire, my love,” he said, eyes brimming with adoration. “After you’re finished in the bath, come downstairs and I thought we could snuggle on the couch, enjoy some hot cocoa, and watch a movie. I know that’s your favorite thing to do in the winter.”

“You’re wrong about that, Loki.” His lips turned down into a frown at your words, his brows knitting together in confusion. With a beaming smile creeping across your face, you finished, “You’re my favorite thing to do in the winter.”

[lesbojournals]

Ichor Part Two (Stucky x Kidnapped with Amnesia!Reader)

part one here

It took time to adjust to your new setting. You continued to squint at the bright fluorescent lighting, so much so that your nurse gave you sunglasses. Your doctor, Dr. Cho was it? she kept talking to you, but it all sounded like someone was talking through a haze of jello. 

You felt your hearing come back slowly, and with the awakening out of your dissociative state, you quickly reached to take out the oxygen tube up your nose. Dr. Cho grabbed your hand gently, giving you a small smile whilst you stared at her in terror.

“It’s okay,” She promised. “Can you hear me?”

You blinked a few times and subtly nodded, enough so that Dr. Cho caught it.

“I’m glad,” She said. “That must’ve been really scary.” You said nothing in response. You’ve been taught too many times not to speak unless given permission.

Dr. Cho rubbed the back of your hand with her thumb as you both sat in silence.

“Do you want this off?” She spoke, pointing to your oxygen tube.

You just stared back blankly in response. Who knew what consequence would come from your answer?

“Do you know Leona? She told me you needed permission to speak. I need you to know those rules don’t apply here–you don’t have to listen to any nonsense like that. You can speak whenever, however you want, okay?” 

You frowned at the mention of Leona talking about you. Was that any of her business? You realized after a moment that Dr. Cho was still waiting on a response from you. You avoided eye  contact and looked at your lap, nodding. 

“I’m going to ask you some routine questions, okay?”

You nodded once again.

During the examination, your eyes drew themselves to the door, where you could make out two large silhouettes on the other side. Had they been there the whole time?

Dr. Cho noticed this, and held your hand a little tighter. “Are you ready to see them?”

You looked at her in confusion, and she seemed to pick up on this, concern drawing itself all over her face. She took her hand from yours and feverishly started to write things down in her notebook.

“Do you know who I’m talking about?”

You struggled to shake your head negatively, but did it anyways.

She sighed. “Do you recognize me?”

You averted your gaze and shook your head negatively again. Dr. Cho let out a nervous exhale.

“I’ll be right back, I promise.” She firmly grabbed your hand while she spoke and let it go to exit the room. 

As the door slid open you immediately made eye contact with the men behind the door, eyes bouncing from one man to the other back and forth. You nervously looked away, trying to block out the feelings that were bubbling in your chest. What was that? You went to look back, but the door had already been closed. It felt like you were going to throw up. 

Seconds passed before the door opened again, and the two men stormed in against the wishes of Dr. Cho, who yelled, “Wait! Enough!!”

“Do you know who we are?” One of the men asked in a whisper, looking angry and defeated. He had shoulder length brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was dressed like he was ready to go off into battle in a second.

The other man looked at you expectantly. He had dirty blonde hair that swept across his head in a clean style. His beard was full, and he also had blue eyes, but his were stormier. He was dressed in casual clothes, or clothes you noticed that you might wear for your training.

Dr. Cho chimed in. “He asked you a question, honey.” 

You looked at her, then back at the first man, then back at her. You shook your head negatively.

“You don’t…” The blonde man looked scared, which you assumed wasn’t something he felt often. “You don’t remember us?”

You gulped and fiddled with the blanket over your lap. Your mind, in an attempt to save yourself from the intense emotions in the room, focused at the task at hand. You were in a new location–Dr. Cho had told you you were saved. All you knew was living in the laboratory, so what did saved really entail? You could get this emotion out in training. Leona would rip you a new one, beating you to the ground, but it would help you forget whatever was happening at this moment.

So, in an attempt to make things better, you spoke. “When’s training?”

You hadn’t noticed that you interrupted a conversation between the two men and Dr. Cho, you must’ve dissociated. Your voice broke the conversation in whole, silence enveloping the room.

“Training?” The brunet breathed out. 

You nodded. Dr. Cho gave you a pitiful look.

“Leona told me about the training you’d have to do with each other, and so did Claire. You don’t have to do any of that here.” Dr. Cho said. 

The two men gave each other a look, and the one walked off. Dr. Cho looked at him in alarm, and sped after him, yelling at him to leave her patients alone.

The brown haired man and you stayed in the room, and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by his presence. How did you know him? You reminded yourself that Dr. Cho said you could speak, that you could say whatever you wanted, and you tried to gather the bravery to say something to him.

“I knew you.” You said to him, getting his angry expression to turn soft. “Before.”

He sat down in the chair next to you, letting out a heavy sigh. “You did.”

It stayed quiet for the next few minutes, and you desperately searched in your brain for something, anything, that would give you a hint as to who he was. 

“What do they call you?” You asked. You knew you, Leona, and Claire all had your given name, and your laboratory name. 1, 2, and 3. You were 1, Leona was 2, and Claire was 3. Did it go this way outside of the laboratory? Did everyone have two names? You could feel in your bones that being called a number wasn’t correct. 

The man tilted his head in confusion. “My name’s Bucky.” 

“Bucky.” You repeated. 

He nodded. “Do you know your name?”

This was a trick question. It had to be. You sat there, debating what to say for a second or two. Bucky didn’t seem like the guy to be asking trick questions. But you’d heard Do you know your name? too many times before disaster. You knew the other girls likely felt the same way. 

Bucky didn’t seem patient. “Do you?”

You let out an exhale, you supposed it was time to test the legitimacy of being saved after all. “Yes.”

And so you told him your name, no number, just your pure name.

Bucky relaxed, and he sat back in his seat, refusing to take his eyes off of you.

-

Steve sped as fast as he could to Leona’s room. When the door didn’t slide open at his palm, he debated slamming the door open himself.

Dr. Cho moved in front of Steve, catching her breath from running so fast. 

“Steve,” she said. “I won’t let you harass her.” 

He shot Dr. Cho daggers. “You knew that she knows what happened to my girlfriend and you decided to keep it from me? I’ll ask her myself.”

“I refuse to let you in there, Steve.” She stood her ground, and just when Steve was about to argue further, Leona’s door opened, her angrily behind it.

She had a stupid smirk on her face, though her eyes were filled with rage. “Talking about me? You know, you could’ve just knocked.”

Steve gave Dr. Cho a glare and followed Leona into her room. 

“Leona,” Dr. Cho said. “You don’t have to have visitors if you don’t want to.”

Leona scoffed, shakily getting back into her bed. “He wants to know about number 1, who am I to deny such knowledge?”

“Number 1?” Steve questioned, folding his arms across his chest. 

Leona rolled her eyes. “Your precious girl. That was her name, y’know, back in the lab.”

Before Steve could question further, Leona turned to Dr. Cho. “You can leave us, I can handle it.”

Dr. Cho reluctantly left the room, though Steve could see her silhouette waiting in the hallway. 

Leona leaned back into her pillows, reaching for her IV to plug it back in to the tube in her arm. She sighed in relief. 

“Number 1 always gets special treatment, even here. I bet they have her on the good stuff, not this crap.” She pointed to the fluid bag. 

“Don’t call her that.” Steve demanded.

Leona seemed to find joy in Steve’s fury. “We all have numbers, she’s number 1, I’m number 2, and you heard number 3 whining on the jet.”

“What do you want to know?” She baited before Steve could argue further about the numbers.

Steve lifted his chin, attempting to be as strong as he could in his stance. “What do you know about what happened to her?”

[w8lkers]

★ | freak

carl grimes x fem!reader

note : not my best writing, but i liked the concept :P does not follow the canon.

warnings : the insult “freak”

new outsiders were recently welcomed into the community of alexandria. a group of outsiders, consisting of seven people in total. to carl, one of them was more noticeable than the rest. it was a girl and she also appeared to be missing an eye. that’s what carl assumed anyways, why else would someone wear a bandana over half their face?

he was shocked that her first words to him were “what are you staring at, freak”.

hearing that question almost stunned him into silence. almost.

all he could possibly muster up was an awkward sounding, “um- what?”. by the heat on his face, he could tell that there was an embarrassing amount of red on his face. this was far from his best first impression.

carl avoided her from then on, realising she might’ve needed some space to adjust to alexandria. maybe he could’ve stared at her less… but he couldn’t help but feel a bit offended by their first encounter, it left a sour taste left in his mouth every time he thought about it. it was both a humiliating and upsetting experience for carl. he didn’t mean to stare at her, he just couldn’t help be a little curious. the only person carl ever saw without an eye was the governor, the reason he refused to wear anything other than a bandage over his eye.

as the other members of the group got more acquainted with alexandria, carl was able to learn more about her - not from her directly of course, but from the other members of her group. he learnt her name was y/n. it was a pretty name, he thought so at least. carl also learnt that she lost her mother recently. that information had him awake for a couple nights, unable to sleep at the recurring thoughts of his own mother’s death. carl understood that pain.

he was slowly understanding why she was so hostile to him. when carl lost his mom, it consumed him. every waking minute was spent hearing her screams on a torturous loop in his mind. that kind of loss makes a person angry at the world and hungry for revenge, sometimes people become blinded by it. he knows he’s had his fair share of moments that he wished he could forget.

there was still the question on how to approach y/n. despite her appalling first impression, he was still curious enough to want to talk to her and clearly observing her from afar was the wrong way to go about it. carl went through multiple different scenarios in his mind, all the different ways he could approach her. more sleepless nights burdened carl’s evenings as he spent them debating with himself over what to say.

one day, he became fed up with thinking about it. his lack of sleep was beginning to show through some passive aggressive comments that rick certainly did not appreciate.

carl marched up to y/n, who was sat on the porch of the house her group had been given. unfortunately, his confidence dissipated the moment he met her eye.

“um-.. i-“ he barely got anything out before y/n interrupted him. she blurted out a question, an uncomfortable expression across her face.

“how did you lose your eye?”

it took carl a few seconds to gather his composure. yet again, another interaction with her that has taken an unexpected turn. at least she didn’t call him a freak this time.

“i got shot.” he doesn’t know what else to say, but he purposefully leaves out anymore detail. it wouldn’t be a good look for alexandria if he said he was shot by an.. ex-resident. there’s an awkward pause and the two just staring at each other. carl can tell there’s something else she wants to ask, but he almost doesn’t want to ask in case she insults him again. he’s rather have some of his dignity intact at the end of their interaction.

it takes y/n an almost unbearable amount of silence to ask, “do you have any spare bandages?”

“um.. yeah, but you could go to the infirmary, we have supplies here- i can show you how to get there if you want?” he’s mostly confused by the question and seeing her wrap her arms around herself in an almost defensive manner furthered his confusion.

“nice try. i’m not leaving the house empty, so someone can come and snoop through our stuff.”

some people took longer to trust alexandria, he understood her current mindset. hell, he’d been there himself.

“look, no one here is after you. it’s not as bad as you think it is and the people here aren’t going to hurt you, if you just give this place more of a chance-“ interrupted yet again.

“i’ve heard this speech from almost everyone here, i don’t need to hear it again.” she was annoyed. this wasn’t going as well as carl wanted it to.

“sorry..” carl mumbles, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. he looks back at y/n and she’s still looking at him. it was slightly unnerving, carl had no idea what to expect from her. another insult, or maybe another personal question.

“i can go get you bandages and come back..?” his voice sounded slightly hesitant, though his offer was genuine.

y/n’s eye narrowed slightly in suspicion, yet carl was unphased by it. he expected her to be guarded, the people she arrived with certainly cautioned the people at alexandria about the attitude she developed.

“really?” she sounded unsure, as if she couldn’t tell if he was being serious.

“sure.. yeah.” he has a small, slightly weary smile on his face that looks more like a wince to y/n.

“okay.” y/n looks down at the ground, her voice becoming quieter as she speaks again, “thank you..”

“yep.” carl spins on his heel and walks away from her, quickening the pace of his walk in the direction of the infirmary. he lets out a deep sigh of relief, it wasn’t going as badly as it could, but he still felt slightly on edge.

“here.” carl tosses each item he retrieved from the infirmary to y/n and she catches them, placing them down in her lap.

“thanks.”

“you’re welcome.” carl smiles hesitantly at her.

“cool..” y/n mumbles, looking down at the roll of bandages, a roll of medical tape and a few plasters.

“have you ever put a bandage over.. your eye? i know i struggled the first few times i had to do it.” carl is reluctant to stop talking to her, strangely she was pleasant to be around when she wasn’t insulting him.

“no, i’ll figure it out though.”

“are you sure? i don’t mind helping you-“

“no.”

“i get it, okay? you don’t trust us yet, but we’re good people. i just want to help, whatever’s under there isn’t anything i haven’t seen before.” carl gains a little more confidence in himself and his words, he stands a bit straighter - he’s determined to prove her wrong about alexandria.

y/n spends a few seconds digesting his words. on the one hand, she could be mean and he’d leave her alone, but on the other hand, she knew she needed help. her mother was the one who tied the bandana over her eye once the wound she had healed. she never took it off after that, but the members of her group began lecturing her about ‘appearances’. the bandana was torn, dirty and even seemed to be charred at some parts.

“come inside.”

carl follows her inside the house. the group had clearly started to decorate their home a bit and carl takes note of the photographs on the wall. unfamiliar faces that he couldn’t recall seeing with the group and he knew why.

“so, how did you lose your eye?” carl asks, following y/n into a bathroom.

“i lost it in a fight with a hungry squirrel.” her voice was nonchalant and carl almost thought she was serious for a second.

he chuckles and stands by the bathroom counter, unravelling the bandages, “you’re funny. how’d you lose it?”

“the world is full of rotten people.”

“not alexandria though, there’s good people here.” carl glances over at y/n as she slowly unties the knot holding the bandana in place around her head. she pulls the fabric away from her face and she turns her head slightly to try shield her eye from carl’s vision.

“you really like it here, huh?” y/n almost sounds bitter about it. he could see why. carl was comfortable, he felt safe in alexandria, but y/n was most likely feeling the opposite.

“yeah, it’s nice here..” carl lifts the bandages and wraps it around y/n’s head to measure the length he would need. using a small pair of scissors he cuts the bandage into a strip long enough to wrap around her head, “i like it at least, it takes some time to get used to though.”

“i got stabbed.. that’s how i lost it.” y/n speaks quietly, looking up at carl once she knew she couldn’t avoid it. he needed to put a plaster over eye, he was going to see it, so she might as well tell the truth.

“people don’t think about it as much as you’d think,” carl speaks as he puts a plaster over her eye, he had seen the damage, “my dad tells me the same thing, but it’s hard to believe someone when their eyes keep going from your eye to.. not your eye.”

y/n laughs. it was more of a chuckle, but it still brought a smile to carl’s face. he didn’t comment about it, but instead revelled in the moment for a few seconds. he worked in silence as he helped y/n secure the bandage over her missing eye. he didn’t mind the silence much, at least now that he knew she didn’t hate him.

“i’m sorry i called you a freak.”

carl smiles at her apology. he didn’t expect her to apologise, but he clearly underestimated her, “it’s water under the bridge.”

he was nice, y/n knew that. it almost felt too nice after the experiences she had with strangers before arriving at alexandria.

“there’s still good people left. i know everything inside you is probably telling you not to trust this place, but it’s safe here.” carl pauses for a few minutes, trying to find the right words to say, “a few people might say some wrong thing, but it’s not on purpose. sometimes.. they just don’t know better, but they mean well...”

“okay.”

“i’m carl by the way.”

“i’m y/n.”

“i know.” the words slip out of carl’s mouth before he can stop himself. the last thing he wanted to do was come across as a creep, “sorry- i just overheard janine talking about you.”

“cool.. thanks for the help.”

carl now has a genuine smile on his face, it didn’t look uncomfortable and forced this time. he nods at her and tidies up the the supplies he used, putting them into the cupboard.

“you know.. there’s gonna be a party.. thing? it’s at the end of the week, but alexandria throws them every time there’s new people..” carl pauses and then continues talking, “it’s not really a party, but the last time they had one here was when me and my group arrived. you should go.”

“i’ll think about it.”

she very obviously didn’t trust him yet, but it seemed like she was trying. her behaviour may come across as abrasive and cold, but it was nothing carl hadn’t seen before. eventually she would have to warm up to him, right?

“cool.”

[angellayercake]

Save a cowboy, ride a cardinal

Cardinal Copia x @ramblingoak happy birthday to yooooou 🎂🎂🎂

Copia attempts some roleplay fun for his favourite lady's birthday

‘Can I have this blind fold off yet?’ The ghoul didn’t answer, leading you down the gravel path only telling you just in time about the steps in your way so they have to catch you when you stumble. When Copia had mentioned blindfolds, surprises and your birthday this was not what you had imagined. You can hear buzzing voices ahead of you and the distinct sound of ragtime piano. ‘Where the hell are we?’ The ghoul ignored you again, continuing to lead you forward, the distinctive sound of doors being opened and then swinging shut behind you. There was only one place where all those things would be all together that's the new western themed bar that had opened in town. You loved westerns, LOVED them and had even been considering coming already. Unfortunately your friends at the Abbey had turned up their noses at a themed bar so you had given up any hopes of going, but it seemed Copia had been doing some snooping. 

You reached what you assumed was the bar, the ghoul helping you get sat on a high stool and then finally they removed your blindfold. There was almost too much to take in at first. Every table was full, being served by wait staff all dressed up in old west themed costumes. The walls were covered with vintage photographs, American flags, taxidermied cows and a hundred other themed trinkets, not quite authentic but the amount of history crammed into this place made you feel a bit giddy. In one corner a piano sat on a small stage, the source of the chipper ragtime you had heard on your way in. But dominating the middle of the room was a large empty space surrounded by a barrier, lined with padding and in the centre the unmistakable shape of a mechanical bull. It was still at the moment but you imagined things got a lot more rowdy when it was up and running. 

‘Well howdy there little lady,’ you hear behind you and a smile is spreading across your face before you even turn on your stool. You are about to reply when you register what he is wearing. Gone are his cassock and his perfectly tailored suit and in its place he is wearing jeans, you didn’t even know he owned a pair of jeans, but the dark blue denim clings to his thighs. Or at least what you can see underneath the black suede tassled chaps. You manage to tear your eyes away from his thighs, to his black shirt, the sharp piping his signature shade of red and then there was the hat. He had gone all out with what looked like a custom stetson. His put on smirk falters when all you can do is stare at him and he starts to fidget with his outfit nervously.

‘Did I not do it right? Aw shit,’ but before you can reassure him the barmaid interrupts. 

‘And what can I be getting you tonight?’ You switch your attention to the bar taking in the rows of bottles. Glancing at Copia you see him still fussing over his clothes so it looks like it's up to you to make a decision. 

‘Two beers please.’ She nods, quickly setting out two tankards and filling them at the vintage looking beer pump. This place was everything you had hoped, you only wished you were dressed for the occasion. If only he had given you some notice you could have pulled together a great bar wench outfit. When the full tankards were slid on the bar in front of you he snapped from his anxious haze and began fumbling for his wallet, struggling to get to it under the chaps. Just before you took pity on him he squeezed it from under the waistband with an adorable ‘ah ha’.  He hands over some notes, refusing the change with an awkward wave of his hand, as she turns away happy. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he says with a sigh slouching down against the bar. ‘I tried to find the outfit like ‘The Cardinal’ but I couldn't find the jacket and then I wasn’t sure what the hat looked like and.’ You rub his shoulders where he is slumped over on the bar.

‘Copia,’ he raises his head from the bar, his hat knocked askew so you straighten it as you look into his disappointed eyes. ‘Your outfit is great! The best dressed cowboy in the joint.’ He perks up after that explaining to you how he had noticed you reading your cowboy romances, how he had heard your friends talking about the new place opening in town and how he knew this would be the perfect place to celebrate your special day. 

‘Calling all cowboys and girls,’ The loud speaker crackles interrupting your conversation. ‘In just a while we will be unleashing the bull into this here restaurant. So we are calling on some brave folks to try and tame this beast! Come on down to the ring to volunteer andsignawaiver.’ You see the idea form in his mind and before you can vocalise all the reasons this is a terrible idea he is up. 

‘You will see now amore, I will be the best cowboy si?’ He practically jumps off his stool, his eyes shining.

‘Wait, Copia, you already are the best cowboy.’ But he is already halfway across the bar. You watch him waiting bouncing on his heels at the front of the queue. You soak up the atmosphere while you wait for him to read through the probably substantial terms and conditions and when he hands over the clipboard and enters the ring you wander over with your beer. You edge your way to the front of the small crowd just as he is getting seated on the bull. He spots you giving you a nervous grin, the expression on his face screaming what have I got myself into.

‘All set?’ The assistant checks in with him and he gives them a slightly frantic nod and then he is alone in the padded ring. ‘Our next challenger is Copia, a first timer, so let's see what he can do in three, tw, one,’ he calls over the loudspeaker and then it is set in motion. It starts slowly rocking forwards, then backwards, side to side. You admire his strong thighs tense as they grip to keep him seated. When it spins him back to face you, you can see his grin has lightened up and he mouths, ‘this isn’t so bad’ at you before he is whipped around. The bull picks up pace jolting back and forth and this time when he is brought back around all you can see is his wide round panicked eyes. You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your laugh but it quickly becomes a gasp when with a sudden jolt forward and to the left he goes flying face first onto the mat.  

You shove your beer into the hand of the person standing next to you and rush around the barrier as he is sitting himself up. He groans as you help him to his feet, red faced and rubbing at his back. You pick up his hat where it had fallen next to him and dust it off before placing it back on his head. 

‘Amore, why didn’t you stop me?’ He moans as you support him across the bar back to your seats. ‘I am too old for this nonsense.’ Between you you hobble back over to the bar only to find your stools had been taken. He sighs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders more firmly. ‘I’m sorry, I had a whole plan and now it's ruined and.’ You squeeze his waist and turn him towards the exit.   

‘Nothing has been ruined silly.’ You push open the swinging doors and help him out into the cool evening air. Stretching his arms over his head he groans again and even though he is aching and slightly covered in dust you can’t help admiring the view. ‘And anyway you looked damn good up there on the bull, very powerful.’ He looks at you in disbelief but let’s you wipe some of the dust from his shoulders. ‘You even looked good all laid out on the floor.’ 

‘Oh you think you could have done better?’ He tickles at your side until you fall against his chest. ‘Shall we go back in? Do you want to have a ride?’

‘I have been thinking about riding tonight. Not the bull though’ You toy with the collar of his shirt, sliding open the top few buttons, if he was wearing jeans he may as well be even more casually dressed. 

‘Is that so amore?’ He backs you up against the wall, leaning on his forearm and boxing you in. ‘Perhaps we should start this evening again?’

‘Ok,’ You take a second to neutralise his expression so you can play along. ‘Hi.’

‘Howdy,’ He pulls his cowboy smirk off perfectly this time and it makes your knees weak. ‘What’s a pretty lady like you doing in a dive like this?’

‘I was looking for a handsome cowboy but I think I might have just found one.’ He closes the distance between you but doesn’t go straight for your lips. He kisses your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. Slow soft presses of his lips that have your breath catching in your throat in anticipation. Finally he kisses you, and all his reservation dissolves as your lips finally touch, his full body pressing against you as his tongue slips past your lips to tangle with yours. The sudden swinging of the saloon doors snaps you both back to reality. You break apart but only just, partially hidden in the shadows of the porch.

‘Take me home Cardinal,’ you whispered against his swollen lips. He growls diving back in for one last aggressive kiss that had your stomach flipping and almost made you reconsider letting him have you there and then. But you manage to pry yourselves apart for long enough to get back to the car, where the ghoul was waiting to drive you both back to the Abbey. You can’t keep apart for long however and you end up wrapped up in his arms. 

‘I think this has been one of my best birthdays ever,’ you sigh contentedly. You run your fingers over his chest, following the lines of red piping until you can reach into the unbuttoned neckline of his shirt.

‘Only one of the best?’ He glares down at you,some of the strict Cardinal you had first met coming out. In the past that look would have cowed you but now you just smile up at him fluttering your lashes.

‘Well if it’s the top spot you are after, I have some ideas.’ He raises his eyebrows at you but starts running his fingers from the small of your back up to the nape of your neck. 

‘Ok let's hear it then,’ He tips your chin up, ghosting his lips over yours. You try to resist, well aware of the game he is playing. You close the distance this time, it’s your birthday you can take all the kisses that you want. Only when you are both breathless do you pull back. 

‘Tonight the chaps stay on,’ and after a moment's thought. ‘And the hat.’ 

‘That I can do. Anything for my Principessa.’ And he pulls you into another searing kiss.

[tarnishedinquirer]

Roundtable Entry Hall

I had one thing to do here. I'd been thinking about it for a while, but now was as good a time as any.

I'd wondered about this lower level for a while. I'd become familiar enough with the mechanics of these phantom bloodstains by now to know that the bloodstains don't appear where you died, not exactly. They appear where you were moments before your death, so your red phantom can reenact your demise. Now, Tarnished leave runes in all sorts of seemingly impossible places, so the presence of rune messages did not necessarily mean that I could get there. But an abundance of bloodstains meant that numerous Tarnished in other worlds had died in that entrance hall. But the doors were mere facsimiles with no moving parts. How is one to get down there?

Well... despite the abundance of bloodstains down there, there were none up on this balcony. It was reasonable to assume, then, that the fall was entirely survivable, even if some unseen danger lurked below.

Rogier asked me what I was doing.

"Testing a theory," I said, as I mounted the banister.

I had already jumped by the time he said, "For gods' sake, use a rainbow stone first!" Which was actually a good idea. I probably should have done that.

Fortunately, I landed without issue. Some trick of perspective had made the fall seem much further than it was. I immediately felt the pacifism enchantment lift. For some reason, this area was not warded. Someone had made sure of that, and it didn't take me long to figure out who.

I was invaded by a dark spirit named Mad Tongue Alberich. Unlike most, he gave me a reverential bow, which I politely returned. So this was a duel, then, one I had inadvertently consented to by coming down here. I wish he had given me the chance to observe the fate of other Tarnished before attacking, but a bow was all I got.

He launched massive shards of glintstone at me, much bigger and more powerful than my little pebbles. Worse, they carried the power of frost with them. The chill sapped the strength from my limbs and slowed my movement, then he moved in with his scythe to slice me to ribbons. Each blow left bleeding wounds. So his strategy was to wear me down, then.

Going on the defensive would just play into his hands. He didn't need to get in solid hits to kill me. So I went on the offense. He outclassed me in magic, that much was clear, so no more spells. Instead, I lunged in with my sword and struck him faster than he could recover from. He used some sorcery that summoned bloody briars, but I dodged out of the way, and moved right back in.

His blade and magic were both powerful, but he was wearing lighter armor than me and using a much slower weapon. I could take the occasional hit to keep him off-balance with flurry of thrusts. He danced back to drink a flask of crimson tears, and I used an impaling thrust to lunge at him from halfway across the floor. I wish I could've seen his face as he faded from view.

I turned and waved back at Rogier, who had scooted his chair up to the edge to watch. He clapped and I'm glad I could at least give him some entertainment.

He left behind a Taunter's tongue, which the voice informed me could be used to beckon invaders to my world. I had absolutely no plans of using that, but the fact he had a mummified golden tongue for that power was... disturbing.

The doors were no more real, so I went into the one open side chamber. There were iron balls here... did the lands between have powder? Unlikely... I know they had it in the Land of Reeds, but it was a pretty recent invention. Maybe they'd simply lost the ability to produce it at scale? Or perhaps these were just the shot for trebuchet.

Past the little armory was a small guard room, followed by a barracks. On one of the beds, a charred corpse clutched at something unusual. It was a weapon... I think? It seemed to attach to the wrist, but it was just words hanging in the air. There was no substance to it. I had trouble even holding onto it. A lack of faith, it seems.

Cipher Pata One of the weapons originating from the Two Fingers. A formless sequence of ciphers comprise its blade, and as such no shield can repel it. Deals holy damage. The furtive inscription appears to hang in the air; the language of light spoken by the Two Fingers.

Language of light? So far I'd just seen them wiggle, and barely at that.

There was nothing else down here, and no other way to get back up, so I teleported back to the table.

Who is Mad Tongue Alberich?

How did he disable the pacifism ward?

Did the Lands Between have powder in an earlier age?

Whose tongue is this?

Did the Two Fingers once speak in more than wiggles? Are they even still speaking, or just twitching?

[donaweasley]

A Walk in the Dark

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Plot:

After an awkward incident involving your one and only crush George Weasley, he tries to sort the uncomfortable situation out. But will it lead to some revelations or...just a heartache?

Previous chapter: Everything is Fair in Love and War

Warnings: Teenage, high school fluff.

Read time: ~10 mins

Note: I've assumed that the reader is 14 years of age here but you're free to put in any number you like! And you can put the reader in any house you wish to!

Next story in the sequence coming up!!

The morning was eventful, with Fred, Ron, Ginny and Molly of all people, assuming that George and (Y/N) had shared their first kiss in the redhead’s room while the rest were downstairs. Yes, pretty much embarrassing, given the fact that the visitor was buried deep in her humongous crush on her said best friend. And disappointing, too, given that George was furious at them, which subsequently made her conclude that he was repelled at the thought of any kind of romance with his best friend.

The rest of the day was awkward. (Y/N)’s heart was wearing a frown but she had to keep her bubbly personality up to show everyone that she didn't give a damn about who thought what about George and her. She did, to be honest, give a damn...or two...quite a lot, actually. George had calmed down but she found him being slightly uncomfortable around her. She attributed it to her own dejected mind, and called it a figment of her imagination.

After dinner that night, when they were all seated in the living room, George slipped in to sit beside his bestie for a brief moment.

"Wait until everyone's gone", he breathed into her ear. His warmth, once again, aroused those tickles in her stomach which had taken the poor girl almost all day to quieten.

For the rest of the night, she couldn't focus on the conversation anymore as her head was muddled with questions as to why he might have asked her to stay back.

Why?

"You okay, (Y/N)?" She almost jumped out of her seat when Ginny called her.

"What? Yeah. Yes. I'm okay. Just...just thinking that I haven't called my parents for two days now. I should call them tomorrow. Can you please remind me?"

"Yup. Okay!" She smiled reassuringly.

"Great! So we're all going out tomorrow evening", Ron's face brightened up.

As the night grew older, the group of friends became more and more tired, and most of them eventually retired to bed. Had (Y/N) not been on the verge of imploding, she would have probably fallen asleep on the couch.

The twins and (Y/N) were usually the last to go to bed. So, there they were, seated on the floor near the couch. Fred was just about to jump to another topic when George stopped him.

"Fred, you go, I'll be coming in a while", he said.

Fred stared at his twin as if the latter had grown another head.

"After what you did this morning, I don't owe you an explanation. I owe you a prank. Pulled on you", George clarified before Fred could ask anything.

This made her giggle.

"Fine, I'm going but..." Fred tried to feign a tragic face.

"That's okay, brother, I won't make out with her", the younger twin put an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder.

"Hey!" Thoroughly embarrassed, she tried to give him an offended look.

"What? You want me to make out with you?"

She just prayed that neither of them would see the heat creeping up her ears.

"Shut up, George. It's not funny."

Fred sat there staring at the duo with furrowed brows while George and (Y/N) chuckled nervously.

"Alright, then", Fred finally spoke up, "I'll leave. (Y/N), I hope that you won't break my heart." Very theatrically, the older twin put a hand over his chest.

"I'll remember, drama queen!"

With a quick hug, Fred left her with his brother but not before glancing at them over his shoulder with a wicked smile plastered on his face. And once again, George and (Y/N) descended into that uncomfortable silence.

"So?" She broke the silence.

"So..."

George pondered for a while.

"Care for a walk?" He finally said.

"Now? This late?"

"Don't worry, I won't bite", he winked, and she melted into a puddle beside him. It was a relief that he didn't notice.

Probably. Hopefully.

"It's not your bite that I fear, mister. It's the...dogs...and other..things", She said quietly.

"You mean, ghosts?"

"Shh!"

George laughed. "You forget that you're living with a ghoul here!"

(Y/N) shuddered at the mere thought of it. She had never seen it although the sounds and the stories were enough to scare the shit out of her.

"Really?" George was still laughing, "after all these years of living with ghosts at the school, you're still scared?"

"They are ghosts of Hogwarts! They are a part of the school. Okay, I'll go. Let's drop this topic. Right. Now."

"Alright! But I can't guarantee anything."

"Guarantee what?"

"Well...y'know...about what we might meet on the way."

"Shut up! I'm not scared! I'll have you by my side!" She wrapped an arm around his.

"Aha? What if I am not me...?"

"Shove off!" She pushed him away. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

George was laughing. "Okay! Okay! Come."

He pulled her up and gently pushed her towards the door.

It was refreshing outside. The moon was a thin curve against the clear starlit sky. The cool breeze and the quietude soon made (Y/N) forget the events of the day and the turmoil in her mind calmed down a bit. But as soon as George stepped beside her, her “stupid” mind - as she called it - transformed the entire scenario into a romantic one.

Ugh!

"It was getting stuffy inside", George smiled.

"Yes, it was...kind of. … Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Why you brought me here, of course."

"Why? Can't a guy ask his best friend out on a walk?" He feigned hurt.

She rolled my eyes, "Of course, he can. But you forget that I know you only too well to know when you simply need a walk and when you're bursting to say something."

He smiled sheepishly, "Caught me, huh?"

"As always!"

"Okay", he inhaled deeply, and the butterflies in her stomach started fluttering violently in anticipation.

"This might sound odd. No, it's definitely going to sound odd", he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

Oh, those usual signs of nervousness! But why is he nervous?

Inside her head, a voice was screaming in anticipation, "Oh! C'mon, just say it Georgie!!"

"Okay, look. What happened in the morning...y'know with my family saying those weird things and all...well, you're not mad, are you?"

"What? No! Not at all!" She tried to sound absolutely casual. "Why?"

"No, it's just...it was awkward, and..."

"And?"

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, "I noticed that you were a bit off after that. So..."

"Oh!" She had to come up with a lie, and quickly. "I was just thinking that...umm... it's so much fun at your house, and I'll have to leave in 5 days. Yeah. That was what made me sad." She gave him her widest smile.

He smiled back, clearly not convinced at the flimsy explanation, "You sure?"

"Yes. Of course." She noticed him looking suspiciously at her, and so she looked away.

"You looked somewhat uncomfortable yourself. All okay?" She smartly diverted the questions towards him.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine”, he replied nervously.

"You sure?" She tried to mimic him.

George laughed, "Yes. It's just that", he stopped walking, "I was worried about what you might be thinking. You looked slightly upset."

He was looking at anywhere but her, and shifting his weight on his feet. "I don't want to lose my best friend, y'know", he finally looked at her after a pause.

"Best friend", She thought. "I wish I were a little more than that to you, Georgie."

"You won't", She smiled and took his hand in hers. "Never." She held out her pinkie towards him.

"Pinkie promise?" He laughed. "Really?"

"Umm, yeah! Let's say this is our version of the unbreakable vow."

"Okay", he locked his pinkie with hers, "done!"

"Done!"

They both laughed. And then somewhere in that happy moment the laughter faded away and was replaced by silence. A comfortable silence where only their eyes and smiles spoke. For a moment (Y/N) thought that she saw the same love in his eyes as she held for him.

But no. That’s impossible. He has just confirmed it himself. I’m his best friend. Only his best friend.

She decided to act before her emotions got the better of her.

"Let's go", She tugged lightly on his little finger which was still locked with hers.

"Oh!" His smile dropped, "You're sleepy?"

"No. I just...I don't know. You want to stay here longer? I don't mind. It's pretty nice out here anyway"

"No, it's okay, we can go. No problem. Besides, who knows what might be lurking in the shadows." He looked around with a frown but his eyes shouted "mischief".

"Ha ha! You can't scare me, Weasley. Besides, I have my best friend with me. He'll protect me", She smiled at him.

"Yeah, you can count on that", he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

I wish you knew what you're doing to me, Georgie!

"So", he spoke in that peculiar tone which was always followed by a mischief, "I remember you saying that you are not afraid of...my bite!"

For the God-knows-how-many-times that day her ears heated up again.

"Where are you headed exactly?" She asked him with furrowed brows.

"Just saying", he shrugged, "what if I'm a vampire in disguise? See, I have brought you this far from home, on a dark night, in the wee hours. And I'm so attractive that you couldn't say no to me. Now", he leaned closer, "what if I grow fangs and-"

She punched his chin.

"Ow! You little villain, you!"

"Oh! Did the little, weak human hurt the mighty vampire?"

He groaned.

"Now stop that acting, and let's go home before they start thinking that we have gone off snogging again."

At this, George straightened up and forgot all about his drama. (Y/N) raised a brow at him. Smiling sheepishly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder once again, and they started off towards the Burrow.

"You know, George, if you try to scare me once again, I'll bite you."

George chuckled, "I wish!"

"What?" She froze.

"What?" His eyes were as big as saucers.

(Y/N) stared at him. "What did you just say?"

"What did I just say?" He gulped nervously. "I said 'you wish!'. Yes, I said 'Hah! You wish!'"

"Noooo..." She was sure she heard something else.

"Oh! (Y/N), you're hearing things. What else would I say? Come now, let's get inside before you start seeing things."

He pulled her towards his home which was now only a few more steps away. His words were still ringing in her ears. She looked up at him. Even in the dark, she could make out the tint of pink on his cheeks.

What the hell is going on?

They stepped inside, and George carefully locked the door.

"Care for some snacks?" He asked a bit nervously.

"Nope. I'll just get some sleep."

"Yeah. Me too."

He walked her till Ginny's door.

"Alright, good night, mate", he held out his fist.

"Good night", she punched it lightly.

Instead of heading upstairs to his room, George still stood there as if debating with his thoughts. Both the twins and (Y/N) usually hugged before going to bed but given the incidents of the day, it wouldn't be a surprise if they were having second thoughts.

After watching George's unrest state for a few seconds, she decided to drop her guard and take action.

"Hey", she touched his arm, "come here."

She wrapped her arms around his waist. It seemed to work instantly because she felt him relax. The next second, his long arms had her enveloped in a bear hug, swaying her lightly.

"Thanks", he smiled when they pulled apart.

"Idiot!"

"What? Why?"

"Nothing. Now go. It's pretty late."

He stood there, waiting for an explanation.

"Goooo!" She turned him around and pushed him.

He laughed, "Okay, as you say. Good night!"

"Good night", she smiled.

That night, (Y/N) went to bed with a heavy heart, knowing that the boy on whom she had been crushing for so many months now, sees her only as his best friend.

That night, George went to bed wondering if he had let go of the only chance of conveying his feelings to the girl who he had been in love with for over a year now.

***

Taglist:

@olivetheoryx @yep4nai @scram1326 @ariaterum @persephone13 @gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley @nunanuggets @lolhelpimtired @madmadgirlperson @dontfallinlovelol @r4ttusr4ttus @emilykolchivans @queerponcho @loveforweasley @turvi @lovers-111 @waitforiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit @justafangir1 @the-holy-trinity-l @minatozsana @baddiebbarbietngz @moomscore

[great-cats]

The Compress Analysis (2/?)

(From: This Post) Ⅰ - Ⅱ - ...

Part Ⅱ: The Mask

Yep, I see the mask as a key part of his character to the point where it simply must get a section of its own in this increasingly more insane ramble. One may immediately assume that the thing is used for identity concealment. While this is partially true, I reckon that its primary purpose is the concealment of his emotions, as implied in the ultra analysis entry for him (attached below). He may have a near perfect handle on his body language, but I will personally headcanon that he has a terrible poker face until the day I die. As a villain, his identity is going to come out at some point, you know? Even after the Kamino raid (where he got doxxed the hell out of), he continued to wear the mask up until his ta-da moment in 294. So with that info, we can reasonably assume that identity was on the back burner, and emotion/dramatics took centre stage. The latter option is thrown in because he obviously was saving that reveal to an extent. One can even go so far as to assume he hadn’t even taken his mask off around the league, which would be pretty interesting. We don’t ever see him without it while he’s with them, after all.

Beyond keeping his facial expressions behind closed doors, the mask may very well bolster Atsuhiro’s confidence. We don’t particularly see much of this in action given he wore the thing for so long and has only a select few moments of casual interaction, but I still like to think of it as a very real possibility. For all intents and purposes, Atsuhiro Sako is just a normal man with an interesting background and some past poverty. Despite this, the villain that is Mr.Compress– or what quite nicely amounts to a stage persona –is flamboyant, clever, and has a penchant for monologuing. I quite like to create a separation between “Mr.Compress” and “Atsuhiro Sako” because of this disparity. The latter is the flawed man behind the mask whilst the former is a faux, ideal identity put on for the audience. Only in those rude remarks and reckless actions do we see the facade begin to slip. So, what of the moment in the climax of chapter 294 in which he throws that covering off? Well, for starters, he couldn’t not. Jeanist’s quirk could nab anything fibrous, and the fellow couldn’t take any chances. But, beyond that, Atsuhiro thought that moment would wind up his final stand. What’s the use of concealment if you’re going to die soon? He might as well make things flashy.

A big thing in my opinion regarding the mask is how it often reflects Atsuhiro’s status. While I do like to make the distinction between him and Mister as mentioned prior, again, there’s that smidge of him shining through. When he lost his arm, the mask was solemn and in the times he was at his best, it portrayed a smug/snide grin. That grin in particular is by far his most iconic design! It gets the cogs turning in my head when his real emotions don’t seem to match it, though, Regardless of how Atsuhiro is really feeling, that mask keeps up the smile until it’s either broken or otherwise removed. It circles us back to that emotion concealment point, if that wasn’t already obvious. In pursuit of the perfect villain and the next in line for the illustrious goals and teachings of the late Peerless Thief. Atsuhiro has no room for error with that heavy load on his shoulders and must keep up appearances, even if he has to hide behind a smiling mask to do so. But why hold this legacy in such high regard? Atsuhiro claimed that it was the very reason he was there with the league, so what could’ve possibly gotten the man to be so dead set on the wishes of a long gone relative he likely never met? Perhaps, answers to questions like that could be found in what minimal information we know about…

Ah dear! That's part three exclusive content!! Tune in for "The Upbringing" later in which we'll pick right back up from where we left off!

[desultory-novice]

Hello! I've seen many of your posts, and I have to say that I really appreciate your posts about Susie. It's saddening to see how controversial she is, I wish she didn't get as much negative discourse as she's gotten. She is within my top 5 favorite characters in the series.

She's definitely not a total innocent goody-good by any stretch of the imagination, but I also believe some people exaggerate her antagonistic traits. I think it's very much possible that she could interact positively with some others of the Kirby cast.

My question to ask you is: What friendly interaction headcanons may you have between her and Kirby? I could imagine she gained respect for Popstar after the ending of Planet Robobot and probably vacations there sometimes (assuming she doesn't live in Popstar), and I of course imagine that Kirby would be the easiest person to befriend and have light-hearted interactions with.

Thank you so much! Honestly, same about Susie.

I think the discourse about her has been just a little too one-sided. Like you bring up, some people hold the things she did against her in a way the other characters just don't end up seeing. And I'm not calling for people to then turn around and rub other character's misdeeds in their face by pointing that out. ^^;

I believe I understand WHY Susie is somewhat singled out in this way - as to many people, Planet Robobot's story felt a little too pulled from the headlines. But I think that whiff of realism has overshadowed PR's ACTUAL story for too long at this point.

The game is 7 years old already...

Oh gosh, I also wish people could just be more...hmm, balanced about her? For a while, the discourse was that "she should be allowed to be a kickass evil boss bitch!" and, woo! Yeah! But...she can also be allowed to be a complex character who is not entirely one way or the other about her checkered past too...!

She did evil things. She doesn't have to wear that on her flashing "bad girl" lapel nor does she have to become "Susie Homemaker" (ohoho) to be allowed into the heroes club. There's a rich Susie middle ground to be explored there too!

-

Moving on to the ask itself: I love the idea of having Susie interact as she is with the greater cast at large! She's got so many wonderful and interesting traits outside those associated with her evil deeds!

As for her and Kirby. We all know she LOVES ice cream. Not only that, the Super Kirby Clash update entry where she turns Magolor's gem apple stock into apple sherbet (...I am now SO curious to know how Master Crown Sherbert tastes btw...) so we know that she literally cannot help herself when it comes to the cool, delicious sweet, as she pilfers from a complete (?) stranger's (?) supply of fruit to make some the moment she sees the possibility!

I can just imagine the two of them with their hands and faces pressed to the glass of any given ice cream shop. (Susie, being Susie, might threaten to buy the place outright if they don't get served fast enough. And innocent Kirby, rather than chastise her for this flaunting of an old family vice, would probably just respond with sparkles in their eyes: "A WHOLE ice cream shop just for us?!")

-

I also think it's fun that Susie loves to sing and sings really well and Kirby...doesn't. Well, Kirby loves to sing but does NOT sing well. Susie seems like enough of a perfectionist that, rather than leave the room running like most of Kirby's other friends would do when Kirby grabs the mic might painstakingly try to teach Kirby their scales. (Though she might turn down the volume on her ears first!)

-

PR's website gave us an insight into Susie's schedule and we know she's the overworking type. I think that this is the one area where Kirby is going to do something for HER and teach her the importance of just stopping what you're doing, sitting down, and resting.

Initially, she would grumble, talking about all the other things she could be doing right now that are on her schedule, till something about having our cute fluffy pink and puffy resting beside her finally makes her realize stopping... isn't such a bad thing after all.

I think it would be this that might get her to take a second look at Popstar. At its natural beauty. At how simple life can be...could have been. She might even find herself crying for the first time in years.

...Oh no. Oh, she did not want this. She didn't ever want to stop because if she stopped, she knew she would cry. Kirby then wakes up from their nap and brushes a few tears off her cheek and gives her a hug. Because that's what you do for your friends...

-

Kirby might also invite Susie to plant a seed in the little garden they built with the remains of the Invader Armor Robobot, and they go together to check on it. Susie doesn't like to get her hands too dirty, so she upgraded Kirby's equipment slightly. But even though the garden can run on automation now, the two of them still take time to check on it and water the plants by hand.

"How are you going to know how they're doing if you don't ask them yourself?" "...You have a point, Pinky."

-

I think Weekend Susie indicates she's got a love of fashion and I imagine she'd be the one to gift LAVISHLY on gift-giving holidays. Expensive souvenir foods and clothes from some of the most metropolitan planets in the galaxy! (Not that Kirby would take time to savor the food before devouring it,, to Susie's frustration.)

Man, I kind of adore fashionista Susie, actually? Since Kirby is every/any gender via word of god, Susie would have a field day should the puff ever take an interest in fashion. You can literally dress Kirby up in ANY style! And they love all of it! (But she also faces a conundrum because, hmm, how DO you dress up a round ball?! Still, she never backs down from a challenge! And now Kirby's home requires an extension JUST for the new walk-in closet.)

Aside: IMO, Francisca is someone who is probably effortlessly beautiful. The fact that she stands out for her beauty despite dressing the exact same as her fellow mages leans toward that interpretation. I think Susie probably works REALLY HARD to look the way she wants to be seen, and she probably likes being recognized for that. I'm sure Kirby gives out compliments easy, which would bring a blush to her (possibly) cybernetic face.

(I really like cybernetic-girl Susie, btw.)

-

Winding down, as far as them becoming friends, again, I'm someone who likes to think A) the games do generally follow release order as far as timeline goes and B) the earlier games inform Kirby's treatment of characters in later games.

And it's in this instance that I think it's very important that Triple Deluxe came before PR. Kirby got to see first hand as Sectonia discarded Taranza, someone who had up to this point only hurt and mocked Kirby, even aggressively manipulating Kirby's oldest friend to fight against him!

They saw how Taranza, with the wool pulled from his eyes and forced to confront the truth that he'd lost his dearest friend years ago, does the right thing and helps them to stop her rampage. I don't think that Kirby 100% trusts Taranza(?) until Taranza comes back in with Dedede to help. But after that, Taranza IS an ally.

The reason I bring all that up is because of that lovely little moment in Planet Robobot where, despite all that Susie has done (invade Popstar, mock its people, hurt his friends) despite her bringing out a mechanized Meta Knight to force him against Kirby for a second time mere minutes ago, when her attempts to take over Star Dream backfire and it blasts her in revenge... 

...Kirby doesn't hesitate to run to her side to see if she's okay.

Kirby has seen this before. Kirby no longer has doubts that even people who've hurt him deeply are capable of being hurt themselves. And that it is less important about WHO is hurting who than the simple fact that HURTING is bad. For everyone.

Kirby was already Susie's friend.

If you're able to stop yourself from doing the wrong thing just once, heck, even if you CAN'T stop yourself (due to the malicious claws of an especially evil hat, say...) even if you are only capable of showing a flicker of regret, Kirby will offer you their hand.

(And I think that is probably why I would rather talk about the characters of PR than what real world evils its plot touches upon. Because that is where Kirby, the character and the game, puts its focus on. That is where it tells us we can save people.)

[streets-in-paradise]

New Memories - Andy Barclay x Reader

Warnings: Some phone call teasing, the rest it's just fluff. This is a sweet birthday fic.

Summary: Andy is far away from you, worrying because your usual behavior arround his birthday changed with the distance. From fearing the worst to finding himself amazed, he would discover nothing could possibly stop you from cheering him up in the most dreaded day of the year.

Tags: @barclaysangel @devonsawachucky2014

The day had been full of trouble and, once again, he got to spend another birthday having to see Chucky. The hunt was a win and he was feeling good about that, but on the occasions his mind would go back to it he sensed something was missing. More concerned than saddened by that, he wondered why you haven’t given any signs of life throughout the day. Ever since he started seeing you, things weren’t precisely quiet between you on the dreaded special occasion. Sometimes he wished it would, because you were making a fuss every year. Aware of how hard birthdays were for him, as his partner you have self assumed the task of cheering each one in hopes of helping him build new memories. 

Happy memories, the kind he could treasure and revisit whenever the horrible ones would hit. With Chucky reappearing and you so far away from him, all he had to relieve himself were those reminders of your devoted love for him. You did text him in the morning, but he was waiting for something else at a moment he needed it more yet it never seemed to arrive. The whole process leading to the slaughtering of the doll required all his focus, an important mission distracting enough to keep him away from his phone for most of the time. However, with the night falling and the immediate danger disappearing he got to think about that again. 

More than disappointment, what your silence caused was an activation of his paranoia. There was only one doll left, most likely far away from you, but maybe he didn’t know everything. There always could be others, maybe one taking advantage of his absence to pay you a visit. Your dead body could be already waiting for him as a birthday present, just like in the old times. Kyle tried to calm him down by showing the rational side of it, but there was nothing more than plain irrationality in everything they had gone through. Maybe you were busy at work, maybe you were planning something special … or maybe you were gutted on your living room’s floor. 

It became too much for him and he was about to call you, but when he picked his phone he found an unseen notification from you showing a smiling picture of you. 

“Miss you, handsome. Call you in a sec, get ready” The message underneath read. “ Did you think I would forget the birthday fun?” 

He sighed in relief, then began to wonder what you were up to. 

“ Beautiful as always, I miss you too.” He texted back. “ More than you can imagine.” 

Your reply arrived a few minutes afterwards, another picture quite different from the last one. You were dressed as if you would be going on a date with him, some romantic dinner to celebrate and there was a description added in the message. 

“ Bringing the party to you. “ 

Andy couldn’t help smiling, almost in disbelief with the sweetness of the gesture. He rushed to return it, suddenly reminding he had a perfectly matching visual he knew you would love. 

The tie was off, but he was still wearing a suit, so he took a picture and send it to you along with his answer.

“ Dressed for the occasion.”

The call entered almost immediately. His sister chuckled since she noticed as well that the fastness had to be related with the effect the picture caused. 

He got you so In love and you were so blissfully obvious, worshipping the fuck out of him at any given chance. Getting used to it had been quite an adjust to him, but your love made him feel on top of the world.

" You have totally outshined my gift, babe! " You sweetly complained to him. " Holy fuck, look at you. The open buttons of the shirt do it for me … is that the fucker's blood over it? "

He chuckled, proud of himself for your reaction.

" We got one, i emptied my gun on him and that has been all my celebration so far. Not the best birthday ever, but i had worse. "

" Can't argue with a man covered in blood. Whatever you say, handsome. " You teased him. " This is unnaceptable, you are giving me the better gift when i'm supposed to be celebrating you. Neck exposed, shirt splattered of blood … Are you trying to kill me? What can i give in return? A full nude? "

" Fuck, don't even mention it. My sister is ríght here. " He explained you ríght away." Not that I won't love it, but it's not a good moment. "

It made you chuckle, but that didn't mean you weren't backing down from making things up for him.

" What can i do for you to match this, birthday boy?" You purred sweetly. " Anything you wish for ríght now? "

He didn't hesitate a second before replying.

" … Just to hear your voice. "

The tender adoration in that statement disarmed any defenses you could have left. He had turned you into putty with his sweetness.

If what he wanted was to hear some of it, you were going to give him everything.

" I love you, Andy … like i have never loved anyone else before. You are the one for me, you know? No matter the shit that bastard tells you, we are meant to be. I can feel it, every single day i fall a bit more in love with you. Some nights I lay awake wondering how is it possible to love this much. I'm obsessed with you, in the harmless meaning of the word. I wouldn't lock you in my basement, but i'm perfectly aware you are the man i wanna spend the rest of my life with. Who cares if the doll comes in the package? I will get a dog house for him to stay outside everytime he's gonna try come to kill us. "

His laugh was hidding some of the very real flusterred reaction.

" You are insane, no person in their ríght mind would risk so much just for me. "

" Even if he would kill me, i still win. " You insisted. " I've meet the love of my life, got to spend good times with him. It's a good life, many people don't get the privilege before they are gone forever … Besides, I would have the comfort of knowing you would go berseker and destroy him in the cruelest way. If he freezes me, you will bath in his blood or eat his liver or some other fucked up inhumane sounding punishment and i will be rightfully avenged. Why would i want to ever leave the man that would hunt down my hipotetical killer to the end of the world? A man so tragically devoted who had me as his whole fucking world, who loves me like i'm the last person on Earth. Who gets love like yours nowadays, Andy?

" Wooow, woow. Where did that come from?" He wondered out loud, amazed. " It's not like i'm a romance hero or something. "

" I have two friends that have gone through ugly divorces and a third who is tired of trying on dating apps where most guys don't show any interest for long term relationships … I hitted jackpot with you, Andy. Call me crazy, but love like yours doesn't exist anymore. "

" To be fair, you changed every measure for what i thought love was supposed to be. " He sweetly admitted in return. " How do you expect me not to loose my freaking mind for you? The fuck is this? How are we having this conversation? "

There was a very simple answer for that. You couldn't be with him physically, but you wanted to shape a meaningfull memory at any cost.

" Happy birthday, love " You told him once more. " We can't have dates or gifts this year, but i can still give you my heart ríght here and now, just talking on the phone."

His stoicism fell in pieces, beated by the intensity of your affection.

[lumenflowered]

[A video is attached. In it, Maria and Silver can be seen eyeing each other. They appear to still be in Reina's home, if in a different room, and neither's expression is particularly readable.

"Sure. Fine. I won't go for the league yet." Silver's eyes narrow. "But I want to know why."

Maria's brow furrows. "Why... what, exactly?"

He scowls. Looks away. He's wearing an outfit that's nearly identical to hers again, likely because he was wearing his other outfit yesterday.

(Maria herself is wearing a plain white t-shirt and loose grey sweatpants, both oversized, as well as her own hat with the Ho-oh feather stuck in it. Given that she has never once posted a picture of herself in a different outfit from her normal one, that the hat rather emphatically does not go with the informality of the rest of the outfit, and that she's considerably paler anywhere with exposed skin that is normally covered, it's certainly a Look.)

"Why you care," Silver says. "Why you'd bother trying to help me. First in Olivine, and then..."

He swallows nervously. Forces himself to make something approaching eye contact with her. "Would have been easier to leave. Or to finish Rocket while you had the chance. You didn't. Why?"

"...Ah," Maria says, and falls silent.

"Well?"

After what feels like an eternity, but in reality is like ten seconds according to the video timestamps, she says, "I have mentioned before that I hail from a different world, yes? A world without Pokémon."

"...Duh? You punched my Totodile."

"I did. Yes." Maria sighs. "In my defense, you did not clarify that you meant a Pokémon battle and I had no way of knowing there was another option at all."

"Sure. Whatever."

"Never mind that right now. I..." She sighs deeper, frown deepening as well. "I have died before. It is not an experience I would recommend."

"You. What? How???"

"...I would really and truly rather not think about the specifics at this time," Maria says, a little too quickly. "The point I am attempting to make here is this: death is not something I would wish upon another lightly, and I certainly would not wish it upon someone who isn't even half my age."

Silver mutters something under his breath, too quietly for the camera to pick up, and looks away again. Pulls his legs up into his chest and hugs them.

"What was that?"

He groans. Then mutters, "I'm older than you think."

"Are you? How old are you?"

"...I'm not telling you that."

"Very well. I shall continue to assume that you're ten—"

"I'm almost twelve, come on!" Silver pauses. "Shit."

"Eleven." Maria exhales slowly. "You are eleven years old, and you view the world through this cynical of a lens?"

"Yeah? Not like I've got a reason to view it any different."

"I hope that you will have that reason someday," she says, very softly.

"Hmph. Whatever." Silver visibly rolls his eyes. "Are you gonna send your Furret to track me down again if I make a break for it?"

"No," Maria says. "You're free to go, if you'd like. I have been in contact with the regional authorities, and Tohjo Falls seems to be deserted now."

"...Seems to be?"

"Given Team Rocket's resurgence," she says dryly, "I can't say I have the most faith in said regional authorities at the moment."

Silver snorts. "Joke's on you for ever having it. What are you gonna do?"

"For now? Nothing. If they are gone, then they are gone." She considers this. "I do, however, intend to check to see if there were any clues to their future plans left behind when I make my way to the Pokémon League. I certainly wouldn't say no to company."

Silver considers this. He makes no secret of how his eyes stray to what looks like a door to the outside of the house.

At last, he says, "Wait too long and I'm leaving on my own."

"Fair enough." Maria nods. "I doubt I could linger here for more than a few days more if I wanted to."

The video ends.]

[niigata-division]

ARB Birthday Special: Lyall Shiba

~~ January 21st ~~

“To forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time.”

Login Lines:

“Sorry, I’m a bit busy with a case at the moment if you could just…eh? Is this a gift?” 

“My birthday? Oh shoot, it’s today, isn't it? Thanks for reminding me. Now then, if you excuse me, I need to focus on my case.” 

Voice Lines:

“25 years old…if you had told me a few years ago I’d reach this age, I wouldn’t have believed you…or more accurately I would have been too drugged out of my damn mind to understand what you were saying.”  

“My phone has been blowing up all day from my fans sending me Happy Birthday on PROFILE, so I placed it on silent. Not that I’m ungrateful, but I always assumed that with my retirement I’d fade out of the spotlight, but I assume not.” 

“I had a dream last night…and I saw him just standing there with that goddamn smile on his face and…I just got so angry when I saw him that I wrapped my hands around his pathetic little neck and tried to choke him…I hate him.”

“I lit a few candles on my altar to send a few prayers to Anubis and Thoth. It’s a tradition I do every year on my birthday. Mainly, I pray that the next yearly cycle of my life is a good one, but considering I’m in the DRB this year I’m not holding my breath on that one.” 

“Ah shit….I mean, hey Chief, I haven’t caused any trouble lately, so what brings you here? Oh wow, I didn’t think you’d remember it was my birthday. Awwww, I always knew you liked me, Chief! Maybe I'll even break my record for the longest amount of time without giving you a migraine. Ouch, so cold, Chief.” 

“Uhhhhh….Chief? Is this a get-out-of-jail-free card? Okay, but why? Well, I better make sure to save for when I get into some major trouble then. Anubis knows I seem to always be in your office every other day.”  

“Oh Hey Ayumu-san, I take you here to wish me a Happy Birthday too. Just a bit. I owe my life to you, Ayumu-san. It's because of you that I’m still here to celebrate my birthday. I can’t thank you enough for that. Easier said than done. Ah, you didn’t have to get me anything, Ayumu-san, but thank you.” 

“Oh gosh, out of the palettes, you could have gotten…ah it’s perfect Ayumu-san. Did you know this is one of my favorite bands? No offense, Ayumu-san, but I can’t imagine you listening to this band. You're too cheerful of a person for some of the songs.”

Seiji Lines:

“For once you’re not in trouble, Rookie. I just stopped to wish you a happy birthday. Of course, I did. I know the birthdays of all the officers in the department. Normally, I'd wish you a Happy Birthday and just be done with it, but given that you haven’t gotten on my nerves much recently, have this. Consider it both a gift and a reward. Nope, a migraine is starting. *sighs* Get back to work, Shiba.” 

“Of course it is. Given how often you seem to get in trouble, I would think you’d appreciate it. You can redeem it and get off scot-free from any punishment I would usually give you. Only once, though, so use it wisely, Rookie.”

Ayumu Lines:

“Lyall, can I talk to you for a second? Am I that easy to read, huh? Anyway, I'm glad to see you’ve been doing well, especially considering our…first meeting. I was just doing my job, Lyall, but if you want to thank me, just keep living your life would be more than enough. Now then, I know you're into wearing dark makeup, so I got you this as a gift.” 

“Is something wrong, Lyall? It was one of the first palettes I found when I looked up ‘goth makeup’. Really? Maybe I should listen to them sometimes. Eh? Why not? Hey, it’s not my fault. I like to see the bright side of things.” 

[kitkatopinions]

Forgot to talk about something in my little new rw/by ep post. Spoliers for V9.

Ruby giving away her emblem. The thing is that while the general idea of it as Ruby losing more of what is iconic to her (Cresent Rose, emblem - I do wonder if she'll temporarily lose the cape) is a good one, it comes with two major problems that keep it from being as emotionally meaningful as it could be.

1. Emblems are a badly included piece of the world of RW/BY the explanations with them and in-universe references to them are nearly non-existent, leading it to feel like little more than an only sometimes useful design tool instead of part of the world-building and therefore also character building. This is very similar to weapons being named, it seems like an ill thought out 'rule' that was done for coolness sake alone that the writers never really bothered with making sense of or even really putting it in their work. Because no one in RW/BY has ever bothered to talk about where or how they got their emblems, what it means to them, or how much it relates to their identity, it leaves the inclusion here feeling like it's just symbolism for our sake and shouldn't matter to Ruby at all which makes her 'sacrifice' feel more like a random grab for any way to get what she needed. Like she could've just as easily taken off her choker and given them that, or sacrificed a glove.

2. The connection it has to Summer Rose. I believe Ruby's emblem is the same as the emblem we see on Summer's grave, which means we can pretty much assume that Ruby sees her emblem as connected to her mother. But Ruby's obsession with Summer lately still feels forced to me and on top of that, since Ruby has never actually discussed modeling herself after Summer or talked about the emblem being her mother's first, Summer having the emblem has seemed like little more than a blink-and-you'll-miss it passing thing and emblems have been handed down before (Weiss, Jaune,) so to me this also just felt like another casual design choice that doesn't matter. On top of that 'it's a symbol of a mother's promise-" Well whatever Summer said about it or how Ruby feels about it, I sure wish I woulda known before. This show has such a problem with actually properly setting things up and it leaves so many small moments like this feeling lackluster. Now that I'm meant to see this emblem as super meaningful to Ruby because of how connected it is to her mother, I'm left once again feeling like the Eleventh Doctor is wearing Amy's glasses. It's just an object I know the writers want me to care about, but due to the lack of work that was put into it... I feel nothing but annoyed, wishing they'd have either included it earlier or just not at all.

I feel like Yang could've just handed the teapot lady her jacket and been like "Uhhh it's a symbol of me staying warm in the snow" and I would’ve cared just as much.