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celli-ohs · 4 months ago

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awooga!

part one of accidentally in love! series shy!soobin x popular!reader; college!au, strangers to friends to lovers! fluff, comedy, angst, smut

12. the eta theta eta nu special (written chapter 2.5k)

You’re tweaking out. Never have you been so stressed for a simple frat party in your life, and you’ve been to almost every single one since you started college. “Calm down, or else I'll burn your scalp.” Jen warns? Threatens? You don’t know, but you try to breathe. “You look so pretty, babes!” Chaewon squeals as she applies the lip gloss to your lips, finishing your look. “Really?” You pout at her, wanting and needing her confirmation. “Of course! You’re always pretty! I’d never lie to you!” She assures you. “You lied to me this morning when you said there were no more croissants, you gave the last one to Kazuha.” You remind her. She freezes, then shakes her head.

“That’s different. You look so beautiful, Soobin will fall in love with you.” Chaewon nods. “I still have not seen the man in person, so I’m taking this opportunity to see if he’s actually cute.” Jen comments and you look at her confused through the mirror in front of you. “I thought you said you knew him?” You ask. She rolls her eyes as she curls the last lock of hair. “I knew him as in I was thirsty in the middle of the night so I went to grab me water, and when I went to the kitchen I was greeted by a gremlin chugging orange juice.” She argues, before brushing out your curls. “There, gorgeous as ever.” You smile as you look over your done up appearance.

It’s not that you didn’t wear makeup or refused to do your hair, you definitely had a hygiene routine every morning. But you liked the fact that you could dramatize your features with a false lash, lip liner, and contour. You’re lucky to have friends to help you, it sped up the time getting ready by tenfold. “So what are you wearing?” Jen plops onto your bed, laying against your pillows. “Wear something sexy!” Chaewon giggles. You begin to dig through your closet, quickly realizing you own more ugly and memeable shirts than you had imagined.

Usually when there was a party, you just showed up in something presentable: a cropped top and a cute pair of jeans. It wasn’t like you were trying to impress anyone anyways, usually your skills in beer pong did that. But this time you had someone to impress, a very important and attractive person. “What about this?” You pull out a cropped top to show the girls. “You wear that all the time, no.” Jen waves you off. “Wait! I’ll be right back.” Chaewon runs out of your room to her own. She comes back quickly, holding a garment. “Do you still have that white tube top? Wear that with this!”

She presents you a green lace ruffled mini skirt, something simple yet sexy. Before you can say anything, she throws it at you, forcing you to try it on. “Oh my gawd it’s perfect! This with a nice boot, your fake Tiffany necklace Sunoo got you and some hoops-” Chaewon suddenly gasps. “I should become a fashion major.” She suddenly declares. “Yeah no, you’re already too deep into your degree.” Jen reminds her. You quickly change into Chaewon’s suggestions, and give the girls a spin, showing your whole outfit. “You look drop dead gorgeous,” Jen grins. “You’re so hot!” Chaewon squeals.

“I’m so nervous,” You suddenly admit. Your stomach has been queasy this entire time. “What? What’s wrong?” Jen and Chaewon pull you to sit with them on your bed. “This is gonna be the first time we go out together and there’s gonna be people we know.” You explain. “Am I doing too much? Should I not go? What if he ignores me the entire time?” You begin to reveal your worries to your friends. “Oh baby don’t say that.” Jen gives you a hug. “From what you tell us, Soobin is a great guy, he would never do anything to hurt you.” You nod along, despite your thoughts.

“Yeah and if he does, Jen and Keeho will beat him up.” Chaewon offers, making you laugh. “I don’t think I’ll need you to, I can handle myself,” You joke. “Not gonna lie, I’m kinda mad Jay didn’t record you choking Sunghoon. You literally beat up a whole ass man who’s nearly six feet tall.” Jen chuckles. “I feel bad I didn’t mean to actually hurt him, I just couldn’t let him text Soobin.” You try to explain yourself. “No I get it, you’ve got that thing- what do they call it? Women’s intuition?” Chaewon tries to remember. “A mother’s strength? I don’t know, that thing where a woman gets stronger when there’s a crisis.”

“Well safe to assume Sunghoon and the boys will never betray you again. Me neither, I’m here for life.” Jen crosses her fingers, making you laugh. But your laughter soon falls short when there’s a knock on your door. “Oh my gawd I’m gonna hurl.” You wince. “No! You’ll get my skirt dirty.” Chaewon warns as she goes to get the door. You hear her open it, greeting Soobin warmly. “Come on, let’s go say hi to dream boat Soobin.” Jen teases, lugging you up. You force yourself to smile as she guides you down the hall. You catch sight of him immediately. Instead of his usual hoodie or large shirt, Soobin dressed in a loose black button up, tucked into a pair of black pants.

When he turns around, you’re pleasantly surprised to find he’s pushed his hair back a little, revealing his forehead. “Wow,” He gapes eyes traveling up and down your figure, and for once you’re not upset at a man doing so. “You look really pretty.” He smiles. “Thank you,” You blush, letting go of Jen to stand beside him. “I mean you always look pretty, promise. But right now, you look extra pretty. But that doesn’t mean I think you should wear this all the time-” “Thank you Soobin, I appreciate the compliment,” You chuckle, nudging his arm. “Ahem.” Your attention jumps to your two best friends who stand together arms crossed.

You notice Soobin stands straighter. “Soobin,” Jen’s voice is chilling. “Y-Yes?” He stutters. “What do you do?” She asks that question as if she were your father interrogating their daughter’s date to prom. “Huh? Oh, I’m a Language/Literature major here at Hybe, and I work at the coffee shop on campus.” He answers diligently. Jen nods, though doesn’t look impressed. “Do you know who I am?” Jennifer suddenly asks and you immediately hold back a sigh. “Okay! Time to go!” You clap your hands and begin to push Soobin towards the door. “Hey! He hasn’t answered my question!” Jen argues.

As if Soobin couldn't make the situation worse, he turns around to speak. “Uh- you’re Yeonjun’s ex, right? You got scared when I would snack in the middle of the night-” "Soobin, let's go!” You shout, before shutting the door behind you. You finally release your sigh, escaping the madness. “They were nice.” Soobin tries to reassure you. You shoot him a smile and nod. “Yeah, they are. Ready to go?” You ask. Soobin answers by taking your hand and leading you downstairs to his car.

“Usually Keeho picks us up,” You explain as Soobin drives down the street. He has one hand on the wheel, the other has not detached from your hand since you two sat down. “He’ll be there too? Your other friends?” He asks. “Yeah, why? You nervous?” You tease. He scoffs. “I am.” He admits shyly. “I mean I’m nervous to meet your friends too.” You try to appease him. “Yeah, but you already know all of them,” He counters. That was true. You’ve gotten drunk with Yeonjun many times, studied with Taehyun, argued with Beomgyu, and even hung out with Kai once. “I don’t really know any of your friends.” Soobin mumbles. Deciding to distract him, you change the subject.

“When was the last time you’ve been to a party? I know you said it’s been a while,” You ask him. Instantly you notice the tension in the air thicken. Soobin’s grip on your hand tightens just slightly. “I haven’t been to one in about a year I think.” He starts to explain. “Ever since my ex and I broke up.” Oh crap. You’ve hit a mine. “Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” You apologize. “No, it’s fine, it’s been a while like you said.” He shakes his head. “I just was scared I’d run into her, you know? Especially right after the breakup.” You nod understandingly. Before you can offer words of comfort, Soobin clears his throat. “Looks like we’re here.” And the two of you gaze up at the brightly lit house filled with drunk adults at the end of the street.

One thing about the Eta Theta Eta Nu Fraternity house was that it wasn’t your luxurious mansion the movies depicted. Instead it was a mediterranean style home with six bedrooms and four bathrooms, a garage and basement, a pool in the back and it was actually owned by former Frat President turned sponsor Choi Siwon. Because of the limited housing, only the council lived inside the house, and usually they didn’t even stay there. You and Soobin walk inside hand in hand, you try your best to ignore his clammy fingers, because you could understand his nerves. But secretly you were just as anxious.

As soon as you walk in, you’re met with loud music and chatter, hoards of people socializing and drinking like there was no tomorrow. “Yo what up girl?” A familiar voice catches your attention, and from the crowd emerges Keeho. “Kee!” You release Soobin to give one of your best friends a hug. “Hey! You look sexy, girl! Damn, I actually gotta give it to Jen. Don’t tell her I said that.” He points at you, making you laugh. “Thank you! Oh, um Keeho, this is Soobin,” You tug the poor boy closer to you, introducing him. “He’s my… friend.” You decide to land on. Keeho’s demeanor immediately switches.

“Hey, nice to meet you finally.” Keeho offers Soobin a hand shake. “You as well.” Is all he’s able to squeak out. “...Well we’re going to find Sunoo, see you around.” You quickly pull Soobin with you past Keeho, hoping the awkward interaction would take care of itself. “He’s with Won and Ni-ki,” Keeho shouts as he goes down the hall. “He’s so scary,” Soobin leans down to whisper in your ear as you guide him through the bustling house. “I promise he’s not, I’m so sorry,” You plead. You eventually find Sunoo and the others at your usual hang out, outside in the backyard by the pool chairs.

“Sunoo!” You shout, once again letting go of Soobin to hug your best friend. As you and Sunoo excitedly exchange a few words, Soobin can’t help but feel a bit neglected. He knows he shouldn’t. You’re a popular girl who has so many loving friends. But as you’re giving hugs to the two other boys, he not only feels jealous, but lonely. “This is Soobin!” You pull him back to reality, beaming up at him with that beautiful smile of yours. “Your boyfriend?” One of the boys teases you, and you immediately shoot him a look. He shuts up and quickly mumbles an apology. Taking the opportunity to be cheeky, Soobin shakes his hand and smiles. “I hope to be.”

So far your night has been going well. Chaewon and Jen rejoined you, and Soobin finally tracks down his own friends to finally have some proper introductions. Yeonjun is already tipsy when you meet him, and he keeps mumbling something about losing a bet. Taehyun and Kai are friendly as always and Beomgyu, well he’s Beomgyu. You’re sitting next to Soobin chatting with your friends when Jake arrives. “Hey! Are you finally ready to lose, cheater?” He slurs, already drunk. You stand up, grinning at Soobin. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a bit,” You quickly press a kiss to his cheek, which has Ni-ki gagging like a child. “Okay,” He nods, watching you depart with a dreamy smile.

Despite your order, Soobin ventures back inside to get another drink- and maybe a water. He’s pouring himself a glass when he suddenly hears her voice. “Soobin?” He freezes, blood running cold. “Oh my God it is you. It’s been so long!” Haewon is smiling at him like they were on good terms. “H-Hey Haewon.” He clears his throat, and sets his drink down on the counter. She just had to approach him when the kitchen was empty. “Wow, you’re looking good. Really good.” She’s drunk, he noticed. Not terribly so, but just enough for her to see him in a good light. “Thanks.” He mumbles, before sighing and grabbing his drink to leave.

“Wait, Soobin?” She catches his sleeve, stopping him. He’d be a liar if he didn’t admit the way she looked up at him made his heart ache. But instead of aching with passion, it was with pain. Even now he could hear her nasty accusations. “I miss you.” What. “I miss you so much, I’m so sorry for cheating on you. I never meant for it to happen.” It takes a second for Soobin to process her words, but in the end he just scoffs and shrugs her off. “Haewon, you cheated on me for six months, half of our relationship. I think you did mean for it to happen.” He counters, and tries to walk away, but the girl throws herself onto him.

“No, I didn’t! You can’t blame me! It wasn’t even my fault! He made me cheat! I promise!” She’s crying now, her makeup smearing down her face. Even though she hurt him so much more than she thought she did, the tiniest part of Soobin still felt bad for Haewon. Not because he missed her or that he still loved her, but because it was pathetic to see his ex act this way in public. “Haewon, I don’t want you-” “I miss you so much, I need you, I love you Soobin!” Suddenly she lunges at him, and Soobin regrets not trying harder in P.E. class as his reflexes are slow. Forcing herself onto him, Haewon hungrily kisses Soobin.

Instantly he pushes her off of him. “Haewon what the fuck-” He wipes his mouth in disgust. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” He spits at her. “Soobin I-“ “No! I don’t fucking love you anymore Haewon! You cheated on me with multiple guys for six months! Don’t you get that you hurt me?! I’ve moved on, I’ve been happy without you! And now you have to go and fuck everything up and tell me you miss me, that you love me! Get it in your fucking head that I don’t care anymore, we’re done!”

It seems as if his screams have finally gotten to her, as Haewon begins to sob, she quickly storms off cursing him.

Bonus:

Haewon was Soobin's first serious relationship

She and Soobin met as classmates

Haewon is the type of person who likes to go out often, and with Soobin being an introvert he never suspected she'd cheat

Beomgyu arguably hates Haewon the most, having never got along with her from the start of their relationship

Haewon is a frequenter at the frat parties, Yeonjun originally wanted her banned but the frat informed him they can't actually ban people so he and Kai ignore her when she's there

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teddi-bearly · 9 months ago

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Rating Klinger Outfits on Flamboyance Because I’m Bored: Part 1

This is in no way an exhaustive list, nor is it meant to imply any of Klinger’s outfits are not fabulous. Because they are. It’s more of an excuse to talk about Klinger’s outfits and how much I love them. Also I don’t have any fashion training whatsoever, so this is just for fun.

I’m going to do a part 2 because I don’t want this to be giant and it already is pretty big

Anyway

one of the ones I see the most often

Iconic

The pose. The sass. Amazing

Honestly one of his more practical outfits

I love any outfits where Klinger has flowers in his hair argue with the wall

I’d wear that to a spring picnic

6/10 the flowers in the hair give it more points, but overall I think I’d see a woman wearing that at church on Easter Sunday

MORE FLOWER

And the fur coat? The ring? THE FEATHER?

Right this way madam

Stunning

I don’t think I’d wear this though, red may be Klinger’s color but it is sadly not mine

And the pose? He’s such a ham and I love him for it

11/10

Scarlett O’Hara who???

The yellow is lovely

And the parasol?? Incredible

And the gloves? And the hat?

It’s so much it’s so much

The hoop skirt? WHERE DID HE GET A HOOP SKIRT

It’s giving rich southern belle

1000000/10

The tiara is beautiful and so is the dress

Very similar to the first one though, but feels more like evening wear while the other one is church wear

The mink? (I think it’s mink??) Lovely

He looks like a princess who is undercover and trying not to be recognized as the princess but is failing

8/10 gains points because of the fur and tiara

Simple but nice

Looks like the kind of dress I would’ve worn to a middle school dance though I’m sorry

I love it though, and coupled with the army boots and helmet makes it much more unique

Also the low cut?? Ok I see you

7/10 because of the skirt volume

Again, red is such a great color on Klinger

Cute, not crazy but definitely cute

The blouse is my favorite part, it’s so cute

The hat pulls it all together I think

4/10 for flamboyance, the chances of me seeing someone wearing a similar outfit in the wild are decent

Another good spring outfit

The dress is pretty practical, and nice

It kinda reminds me of a hospital gown though

Which is topical

Klinger definitely slays every outfit he’s in, but I’m not actually super big on this one

It’s nice, but it doesn’t stick out to me

5/10, kinda looks like something a great aunt would wear

I just realized this dress is going to return in part 2

But it’s two different outfits technically and I have two different opinions

The fur coat definitely makes this one more flamboyant

Also I’m not gonna lie, that coat looks so comfy and warm like I want it

And the matching hat?? Incredible

His stance is also so powerful

Like ok gorgeous

8/10 solely because of the coat and hat

I know this isn’t a dress, but it’s a Klinger outfit

And you know what? I love it

He rocks dresses AND suits, what an icon

I want that hat

However? Not flamboyant at all

Business man core

1/10, the only reason it’s not a 0 is because the hat makes it a little unique for me

Carmen Miranda!! Yes!!

The sparkles? The red fur trim? THE HOOPS??

I wish we’d gotten more of this outfit it’s so amazing

Definitely not very practical though, especially the (incredible) fruit hat

Take it from someone who had to wear a fruit hat for theater, those things are SO top heavy

Very hard to secure, you constantly feel like it’s going to fall off

So props to Klinger

15/10 it’s so much and I love it

All images are from Pinterest

#m*a*s*h #mash tv #mash 4077 #max klinger #maxwell klinger #jamie farr #mashposting #corporal klinger

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15-lizards · 1 year ago

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Weird request but I never see anything about the types of underwear they would wear in GOT and HOTD as someone who’s interested in historical fashion I can never quite figure out what support garments they’re wearing, especially in some of the more risqué dresses. Any chance you could make a post about that?

Historical underwear is my passion anon and I hate when period dramas disregard it

Okay so the first layer would always be a chemise/shift, which is both a nightdress and an undergarment. It protects the clothes from any oils the skin might produce. It also makes it so that the stays/corset don’t rub against your skin. In ASOIAF, especially in the risky outfits, I assume the shift is still there, just with shorter sleeves and lower neckline.

Next is what’s known as the stays (better know as a corset today), which is a support garment with some type of boning inside and laced in either the front or the back. I know they wear these in GOT because there’s a shot of Sansa wearing one, but she isn’t wearing a shift underneath which pisses me off bc that’s just impractical. But anyways this is a vital piece for bust support in any historical era

Third is what’s known as a farthingale or hoop skirt (this part is specific to the current ASOIAF time bc I headcanon them to have mid-1500s fashions which is when these hoop skirts became popular) and it’s just a skirt made of boning that gives life and volume to the over skirts. I don’t think I’ve seen any in the ASOIAF adaptions but that’s because the fashion seems to be flatter and longer skirts.

Fourth would be the bum roll. Again, doesn’t appear in GOT or HOTD but if you headcanon the fashions to be anything past the late 1400s, then you need a bum roll. It goes over the hoop skirt/farthingale just to give u a little bit of a booty and some hip definition. Not present in ASOIAF but I like to think that the prostitutes like them

And finally, over everything else, lies the petticoat. This is just to give the dress more volume as well as smooth out any lines or bumps that might occur from the other undergarments. They could be thick or light depending on the seasons, and some women might wear multiple if they want more volume. These are definitely present in GOT and HOTD! You can especially see them in Margarey’s costumes, where she has an overdress that has a cutaway part to reveal her petticoat/underdress. These are vital to both modesty and practicality, so it makes sense that the costume designers didn’t skimp out on them.

#asoiaf #asoiaf hair and clothing #and if you want to make it ‘risqué’ just remove a couple petticoats and let the stays and chemise show #classic sluttiness has always just been showing cleavage and legs

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nycolewrites · 7 months ago

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i'm going to delete this fucking document before i finish writing it so have what was supposed to be the intro to my pirate!zukka fic that is giving me a headache; as a treat 🥰

Everything starts on a random, unassuming, and sunny Thursday afternoon.

He’s strolling through Caldera, hood securely pulled up over his head to avoid recognition, both by the guards who are undoubtedly looking for him and the citizens of the town. He’s supposed to be in the palace square, there’s a hanging scheduled for today, but Zuko’s never been very interested in the…fanfare of it all. The announcement of all the crimes committed, the rich and snooty cheering along as his fa—Ozai reads about their crimes and eggs the crowd on with his propensity for dramatics, the executioner lazily sharpening his axe or checking the knots on the rope—whichever form of death Lord Ozai had decided would be more befitting for that particular pirate on that particular day.

It makes Zuko’s stomach turn, all of it, and so instead of fulfilling his duty as the future Lord of Caldera, he’s sneaking around the city in hopes of killing enough time that he won’t be back until well after the sun has gone down and the fanfare is over and he can avoid his father long enough to return to the duties he cares about doing. Like leading training for the soldiers or listening to the troubles of the town’s residents.

Or, if he’s feeling dangerous, fantasize about sailing the open—

He doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought as something—no, someone knocks him on his ass.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, dude.” Zuko feels his hood slip off of his head as he falls, which is almost immediately followed by low gasps and whispers around the market’s main square. He winces as he shifts on his ass, jumping back in surprise as a scarred and tan hand shoots into view. Even knowing who he is, most people wouldn’t give a second thought to helping him get off the ground, instead simply choosing to skirt around him and duck their heads lest Zuko summons his dad to make them suffer the consequences of Zuko’s own free will and clumsiness. No, he’s not bitter about it, thank you very much.

Anyway, back to his current situation.

In front of him is an outstretched hand, and when he follows the hand up to see who it belongs to, he can’t see their face with the sun’s rays creating a halo around their head. “I promise I don’t have scurvy or anything, dude.” Zuko feel a flush spread across his cheeks, not realizing how much time has gone by, as he reaches out to grab the stranger’s hand. Since Zuko is having the worst luck of his life today, the moment he’s standing in an upright position he trips over his own feet and topples forward into the strangers chest. Zuko feels his flush deepend as the stranger catches him around the waist, causing more muttering to break out around the town square.

Azula is definitely cackling about this somewhere.

Zuko hates that he really, kinda deserves it.

When he finally musters up the courage to look up and thank the stranger—y’know, because he’s a decent human being—the words get caught in his throat. The stranger is a very handsome, yet very unassuming individual, despite his stature. He’s wearing a simple deep blue tunic that does nothing to hide the myriad of tiny scars that are littered across his collarbone and chest. He’s wearing tiny silver hoops in his ears that give off a slight glint in the sunlight, and his hair is shorn close to the scalp from his forehead down. His eyes are a beautifully deep shade of brown, that Zuko has to stop himself from drowning in.

The image of a halo around this guy’s head seems fitting in this moment, because Zuko’s almost positive he’s an angel. The stranger chuckles. “Thanks. Most people call me Sokka, though.” Oh no, he’d said that out loud. “Yeah, dude, sorry.”

Oh no.

Zuko quickly straightens his posture, using his free hand to dust off his robes. The guy—Sokka—hasn’t quite let go of his hand yet, and though it’s slightly awkward for a first meeting, he can’t say he minds the contact. Zuko clears his throat before responding, “My apologies, I am usually not so out of it.”

Sokka’s reply has an air of confidence latched onto it. “So, you’re saying I’m special.” Zuko takes a moment to answer. He takes in the broad, strong shoulders and soft way Sokka’s eyelashes splay across his cheeks when he blinks and the scar that trails from under his left eye in a diagonal down to his chin and possibly his neck. He takes in deep freckles and deep brown eyes and Zuko can’t help but be swept away.

“We just met,” Zuko replies. “I do not yet know if you deserve that title.” When Sokka smiles in response, it only serves to solidify Zuko’s thoughts. He doesn’t think he’s ever been taken quite so quickly with someone he just met. On a whim, Zuko lightly squeezes Sokka’s hand where it’s still in his grasp.

“Yet?” Sokka’s grin widens, showing off a dimple in his left cheek. Zuko wants to kiss it. “So, you wanna see me again?”

Unfortunately, they’re knocked into by a group of kids who are likely rushing to spend their weekly allowances on dried candy and poppers. Shaken out of their bubble, Zuko takes in the side glances and whispers of those who witnessed the exchange and internally winces. He cannot let this get back to his father.

“I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a hurry. Duty calls.” Zuko ignores the way Sokka’s eyes seem to land on the royal crest that’s embroidered into his collar where his cloak has slipped off his shoulders. Damn Ozai for branding essentially all his clothing. In a moment of boldness, he asks, “Are you from around here?” For a moment, Sokka doesn’t answer, and Zuko takes the time to mentally berate himself from acting like an idiotic teenager with their first crush.

“Not exactly,” is what comes out of Sokka’s mouth when he finally replies. There’s a glint in his eyes as he answers, something Zuko isn’t quite sure he’s understanding the meaning behind, but he ultimately decides to ignore it. “Tonight’s my last night in town. Y’know, duty calls.” He says, resting his hand lightly on the sword at his hip that Zuko had honestly failed to notice. It feels like an inside joke, the way Sokka smirks as he completes the action, but Zuko also chooses to ignore that. His father would be having a conniption if he could see how comfortable he was acting with a complete and total stranger. With a pirate. “How about you meet me at Aunt Wu’s later tonight? It’ll be my treat.”

There are shouts coming from down the street, and when Zuko turns around he can see the unmistakable figures of his father’s guards marching their way down the street in his direction. Inwardly he curses himself for getting too comfortable, forgetting that he’s literally next in line to be Lord of Caldera and yet here he is holding hands and openly flirting with a lowly commoner. He goes to turn back towards where Sokka has gone quiet behind him, but is stopped in his tracks when the man in question steps into Zuko’s space and places his lips behind the shell of Zuko’s ear.

“Sorry to cut this short, darling, but that’s my cue. Meet me at seven.” The way Sokka’s breath hits his skin gives him goosebumps, and he just barely stops himself from shivering in response. “Don’t keep me waiting, my lord, otherwise you might hurt my feelings.” And just like that, the pressure of another body along his back is gone, and when Zuko turns around to respond, Sokka is already gone, lost in the crowd of blues and browns and reds. He sighs, barely hiding his annoyance when the guards stomp up behind him.

He turns, doing his best to put the most bored expression he can manage on his face. “Did the high and mighty Fire Lord run out of executions to hand out and finally realize I was missing?” When the guards don’t respond, simply part and turn back in the direction of the palace, Zuko sighs again as he begins the trek back to what he knows is going to be an earful of bullshit.

He feels deep brown eyes on his back the entire walk back.

#atla #zukka #avatar: the last airbender #sokka #zuko #a:tla #atla fic #atla fanfic #atla sokka #atla zuko #sokka atla #atla zukka

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okdeedee · 2 years ago

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lay down your head

a very small din djarin x gn! reader sickfic . reader,,, works with mando? is hired by him? live-in employee. idk. the razor crest still exists. handwavey in terms of chronology.

an: because i have a shitty cold / fever / idk right now. so i daydream about how din djarin would take care of someone. me. us. whatever.

warnings: fluff. the mortifying ideal of being vulnerable with your colleagues/friends/crushes. no use of pronouns other than "you/your" and no y/n.

feat. trying to debunk the theory that being in the rain/being in somewhat cold weather will make you sick, one fic at a time. (hypothermia is real, catching a cold/the flu from being in the cold is not.)

wc: 1.3k words of 11pm feverish delirium.

It starts as a funny feeling behind your nose. As the day goes on, it spreads down to the back of your throat. Then there's the melancholy dawn of a dull headache and your joints start to hurt more than they usually do.

You're helping Mando carry a bounty back to the Crest at around three in the morning, Coruscant time, and suddenly it's ridiculously difficult.

The bounty is a fairly waiflike Twi'lek, so you're not sure why you're struggling. He could carry her on his own, sure, but you've watched him move enough that you can tell he's got back problems, so you try to help him carry heavy or awkwardly shaped things.

This Twi'lek in her hoop-skirted Opera-Concert-Goer finery definitely counts as the latter.

You watch him a lot.

The way he moves, how he interacts with his child, his prowess in combat. His proficiency with weapons gets you hot under the collar, sometimes.

But he's gruff and quite reserved, and you've taught yourself not to expect anything from this arrangement the two of you have. You haven't touched him before - not even to shake his hand.

When you trip over your own feet and the bounty goes lurching toward the floor, the Mandalorian pauses and glances at you with what you think might be annoyance.

But you can't see his face, obviously, and you sort of can't see full-stop in this dark alley, so it's anyone's guess.

By the time you get back to the Crest, your eyes burn with the effort of keeping them open. You don't want to be a liability, so you keep your head straight and you don't show any sign of weakness.

Once the bounty is frozen in carbonite, Mando climbs up the ladder, Grogu gurgling happily in his satchel. He doesn't seem to have noticed anything's really wrong with you, which is a relief. As soon as his boots disappear into the cockpit, you slump down to the floor.

Mando doesn't need a co-pilot - you're often down here during take-off anyway, tidying or putting your weapons away.

You value your alone time as much as he does, which is nice. He never pries when you need some time away from him and his little green kid.

You ache all over and you're shivering, but at least he can't see you. You're so tired that you fall asleep with your head resting against the weapon cupboard's door.

After he gets the Crest out of Coruscant's atmosphere and into hyperspace, Din lets Grogu play with a very small selection of the control panel that will not have drastic effects on the ship.

It takes a while, but the child's movements grow lethargic, and soon enough, he's asleep in Din's arms.

Din places him gently into his mobile cot so as to not wake him by taking him down the ladder, and realises he hasn't heard you move in over an hour.

Which is somewhat alarming - you take turns in the cot in the hull, and since Din can sleep in the pilot's chair, he figured you'd sleep there.

But he never heard the cot door depressurize and slam open, nor did he hear you pottering around like he usually does.

So he makes his way down the ladder, and he's bewildered by what he sees.

You're slumped on the ground, neck bent at an uncomfortable angle against the cupboard. You're breathing through your mouth a little raggedly, so fast you're almost panting, and there is a trickle of mucus coming out of your nose. Your hands twitch where they're draped across your torso, and your skin looks dull.

His heartrate skyrockets - he's a seasoned warrior and you're just his employee, so it probably shouldn't - and he moves over to you instantly.

Before he can think, he turns on the thermal view on his helmet, and sees that your head is hotter than the human head usually appears. So is your whole body.

He flicks it back to normal as he crouches next to you.

"Hey, wake up," he mutters.

He reaches out a hand to touch your shoulder, but he stops. He hasn't touched you before. Not intentionally. He wonders if you'd mind.

He thinks about it more and more each day.

Touching you.

Holding your hand, standing shoulder to shoulder, stroking your face.

Pressing your foreheads together in the way of his people, even if it's through his helmet.

But this is to make sure you're okay; it's different, so he reaches out and gently shakes you by one shoulder.

"Hey, you need to wake up," he murmurs.

You grunt, and your voice sounds like the rumble of footsteps over gravel.

"Can you open your eyes for me?"

Your eyelashes are a little crusted together, but you manage to open them. Your stare is vacant.

Din starts to panic.

"Did someone poison you? Did you eat something bad? Are you alright?"

You give him a sleepy chuckle, and your eyes close again, which is not helpful.

"Hey." He says with the sort of no-nonsense tone he uses with the child.

You blink. "What?"

"Did you get poisoned? Or spiked?"

"'M fine, Mando."

"You're not."

You huff, which sets you into a fit of coughing.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

You look at him with those bright, bloodshot eyes. You sniff and blink a few more times, blearily. It's silly, because he's really worried there's something wrong with you, but the open, sleepy expression on your face fills him with affection.

"Sweetheart, please."

You smile just barely. "Really, 'm fine. Just'a cold," you mumble.

"How would you have gotten a cold? The rain yesterday?" Din starts to spiral; he's supposed to protect you, whether he's ever expressed that to you or not, and now you're sick-

"Prob'ly that club a few days ago. Lots'a people. Confined space. No ventilation. Wonder why you didn't get sick."

"My helmet filters out most toxins and germs." He says.

You reach out and fiddle with the edge of one of the pouches strapped around his calf. "Lucky boy," you say, grinning dazedly.

You look incredibly unwell, but you're touching him, joking around with him. His heart pounds.

Then you groan and put your hand to your head, and he's whirled into action again.

The next half hour is hard to remember in full detail. You're so tired.

These are the glimpses you're conscious enough for:

Mando lifts you up, even with his bad back, and sits you up properly. He gets painkillers from the 'fresher, which you try to refuse, but he practically force-feeds them to you. He gives you his water canteen and tells you to take twenty sips of it.

He holds a cloth to your nose and tells you to blow your nose into his hand, which is mortifying, but you're too dazed to do otherwise.

He uses a cold, damp cloth to wipe your face and neck down, which makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.

"Too cold," you grumble.

"Almost done, baby."

The heat that rushes through you at the sound of his gruff, modulated voice calling you 'baby' almost cures your chills for a second.

"Can I hold you?" the Mandalorian asks softly.

If you were awake, you'd freak out about this ridiculously attractive and emotionally distant man making an offer like that, but being held just sounds nice right now, so you whisper, "Yeah."

Next thing you know, the battle-hardened, ruthless Mandalorian bounty hunter is sitting behind you, one arm around your torso, the other stroking your forehead.

You're in between his legs, your back against his chest.

This is not how you thought your recovery from illness would go.

You find you don't have any reason to complain.

His armour's a little cold, and it shocks you at first, but once your feverish body heat warms it up, it's soothing. He smells good - beskar doesn't have that tangy scent so many metals have; it's cleaner, earthier. He smells warm, inviting, human.

You like this Mandalorian. Quite a lot, as Mandalorians go. And just as a person in general.

He chuckles; a deep, comforting rumble that you feel in your back ribcage before you hear it.

"What're you laughin' at?" you mumble, burrowing the side of your head into his chest

Another shorter, breathy chuckle. "What you just said."

Oops. "Didn't mean t' say that. Out loud, I mean."

"I'll forget I heard it."

"No you won't. You remember everything."

The chin of his helmet rests gently against the crown of your head, and he takes a deep breath in.

"Sleep, cyare. I've got you."

#that's the end #get u a man like that #idk where this comes from #he's a good dad so i think he's just generally a good caretaker maybe #din djarin x reader #din djarin x gn reader #din djarin x gn! reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin x gn!reader

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fayamn · 2 years ago

Text

Feedee or Feeder: Bridget

This is two scenes with Bridget from Guilty Gear as a feedee or a feeder. Gender neutral reader.

Feedee Bridget

E-Easy as pie...! Ayayay... I'm so full... It's fine I can count on you to prepare my food without the stuff I dislike... Yeah, you know it! Bitter herbs and shiitake mushrooms, bleh... It's not like there is space for that between the sweets and the greasy food huh? It's no good, you're filling me on quite the unhealthy diet... Don't you worry about that, I love all of it. The food, the extra weight, the attention... You just have to accept you've made it hell for me to find cute clothes, meanie! Wait! No fair! You can't threaten me with giving me less food! I know you enjoy this at least as much as I do. And you can't deny it, I almost have the imprint of your hands on my belly by now. All right feed me more, I really want to make my wasted bounty hunting career worth every single pound.

Hmph! Wait! Too fast! My limit? I'm just getting started! You're too eager, my cuteness requires you to be more gentle and - UuurRrrp! Oh... That wasn't very professional of me... Not that there much professional left on display here, except professional eater. And professional cutie of course, you're right. Hmmm... I know you wanted me to keep the handcuff hula-hoop around my waist until my absolute limit... Well... It's now... Oh, I'm dizzy... It's too tight, help me remove it! Hmmm... Aha! Much better! Behold! Unleashed lard! Oh I look so much fatter without that pressing in... I know there's no way I'm ever putting it back on, you're making sure of that - umf! Right Now by schtuffing my fache even - ulp! More. You can wait between two sentences you know, I'm not going anywhere! Urp...

Slow, huh? Of course look at what a blimp you made me! I'm short too, so my BMI shot through the roof... And I'm definitely not burning calories and yo-yo tricks and moving... Don't tell me you think those clumsy weak fat hands are for holding anything more than junk food now! And my flabby legs are for jumping around, I'm not getting an inch off the ground. I'm not even getting off my butt most of the time anyways. Hmph! Woopsies! Oh yeah that was definitely my skirt... Appropriate that my butt ruined it when I was talking about it. It's okay don't bother trying to retrieve it now, no spelunking of my fat rolls until you're done feeding me. Going easy on me? Does it look like I can't take it? Keep the calories coming, I need more belly to cover any indecent parts, and to have more of the cutest thing around~

UuuUurrrRrpp!... Oof! How's this? Okay now I'm reeaaally getting stuffed... Which means... Time to get your hands on my gut. How yeah it's huge and soft and heavy? You bet, I only have the biggest and fattest belly around. So, happy to have engorged, fattened, plumped me this much? Reaching down for the skirt? Good luck digging it out, I'm not budging while you're all up on me, it's too good. Hehe, got you! Did I fluster you pushing your head in my belly fat? S-Stop! You're making me blush~ Ah, your hands feel so good yes! Knead my plump fat dough, I'm so stretched from the stuffing but there is too much blubber on top you can even barely feel it. And what I'm digesting now is gonna make me so much fatter than now, a poor little obese thing that is filling our couch.

Now now, help me get up! I want to lie down, and we're gonna have a way better time in the bedroom anyways. Haaa... Haaa... And I'm up, aha! Huff... Look what I can do! I can stand, I can waddle... Enjoying the show of my gut reaching my thighs? You better, it's not going anywhere. What? No, I'm not jumping, I'm already tired!... Fine, I wanna try too. And... Whao! What happened? I didn't leave the ground did I? But that noise the planks made... That was scary. I better go to the bed before I break something. Well, might break the bed soon given how I'm overfed like a piggy. Aaah, finally! I'm not the nimble thin cutie I used to be... Now I'm a ton more cute~ Well, not yet. You know what? That little walk freed some space in my stomach that requires a snack...

Feeder Bridget

Whoever you are, welcome to the show! Too slow! Whoop, caught ya! Too easy! Mind holding yourself right in my yo-yo string for a while? Let me give your face a good look. Oh, you're cute... But I'm way cuter. And also I don't have a bounty on my face, meanwhile you have, and I'm going to be the one who claims it. You're not going to resist if I unbind you? Yeah, would have guessed you'd try and be a pain in my butt. Guess it's time for plan B then. Or F, for Fattening. Oh yeah, I've tried it before, it's effective at pacifying baddies like you. Oh, I wouldn't? Don't underestimate the cute ones! You already did, that's why you're bound and on the floor, and you're the one of us that is going to be morbidly obese and all docile soon. How's that? Woo boy... I'm definitely going to prefer you with cheeks too puffed up to protest.

Of course I'm prepared for that, I gotta admit it's super fun. How about a treat? Take this! Here we go! The little candy I made you swallow is just gonna make you fat. How did I get that? Money can get you a lot. Looking plushier already. And it's just the beginning! My yo-yo string is starting to feel snug huh? Don't worry, you won't break it, it's pretty solid. Not soft, unlike what you're getting. What's this, getting tubby aren't you? Ripping? Oh, that's your clothes, still not my yo-yo. Let me check those legs... Yeah should be fine, those are soft and plump now~ Here's a bonus! I should have told you before, but the fat forms by reducing your muscles, so you're gonna feel extra weak. And you're gonna feel that because you'll be. As soft and weak as a plushie!

Here you go. Get going! You're free! Are you even trying? Just kidding of course. must be so hard to be obese and weak now. Aha, you're waddling already? Out of breath... Come on, you're not that fat. You're still squeezed in your clothes! Although that's not an outfit I'd be going outside with. Huh, you're kidding me? So not cute, I'm glad I made you ruin it with lard. Too bad there aren't any cute outfits that's going to fit you once I'm done fattening you up. You thought it was over? Not done yet~ The first candy did well, but I'm sure you're gonna try something, you're not fat enough! Want some more? No? Come on, you'll love this! Oh of course it's too much. I don't know the meaning of quit. And you just had not to act tough. Aren't you happy you're given attention and a new body?

Here it goes! You're growing again! Aww, it's already too late for escaping... How slow do you waddle? My casual walking outpaces you. Aaah, giving up, that's more like it. Or is it the lack of muscles in your legs now with the extra blubber to lug around? Oh you're so tired. You're done! Just as your clothes, geez. It's so indecent... Luckily you have a natural apron to hide your crotch huh? Might have to roll you in now. I hope they'll recognize you with your bounty poster, because that lard has made you quite the disguise. I guess we'll find out when we get there. What's that look? Embarrassed? I mean, you should be, you're a bloated fatty standing in the shreds of your former clothes, just for being caught for your bounty by the cutest bounty hunter there is.

There! Come here... Oh, you won't move now? How frustrating! What can I do... It's not my first bounty not cooperating after extreme obesity you know? And I know exactly what to do with a piggy your size. Aww, blushing? Read you like a book. You're enjoying this, all of this, right fatty? Come on, you like having a cutie like me groping you, teasing you? What a wonderful thing I did to engorge you like you're cattle, don't you think? I'll charge up your batteries for you to walk, a massage of your massive body will be enough huh? Let me press right there... Aww, what a cute burp. Good, I'm sure you're going to enjoy it. I might give you a treat too if you beg enough. And if that's not enough to make you follow me, I guess I'll have to drag you in with my yo-yo string around your neck like a leash. Are you ready? Because I sure am!

#faywrites #Feedee or Feeder #trans feedee #trans feeder #bridget best girl

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age-of-greta · 2 years ago

Text

The Moon

The Moon represents illusion and deception, and therefore often suggests a time when something is not as it appears to be. Perhaps a misunderstanding on your part, or a truth you cannot admit to yourself.

Author’s note: hi!! welcome back to the moon! Things are falling into place now… as always, I proofread but typos happen. No posting schedule for this one. But all parts will be posted Wednesdays at midnight EST. How about them teasing us with this new album huh???? Anyway! Enjoy :)

Parings: Sam x reader & Jake x reader

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, drug use, angst

Word count: 3.1k

PART 7:

It’s been two days since what happened with Jake. You haven’t spoken to him since. You had a brief conversation with Danny about their trip, but that was about it. You felt like you were going crazy. Did you hallucinate the things that happened between you and Jake? The things he said to you? It was all you could think about. There was so much anxiety in your body at all times hoping he would call or text you. Which is why when your phone rang you nearly jumped out of your skin. But it was Sam. You answered.

“Hey Birdie. What are you up to this fine morning?”

You clear your throat in an attempt to sound normal. “Nothing too exciting. Just working through some emails.”

Sam scoffs. “Sounds positively enthralling. So, funny story, I was unpacking my bags and I came across the stringiest black bikini I think I have ever seen. For a minute I got it confused with mine, but then I checked the size and realized it must be yours from the beach trip.”

You chuckle at his antics. “Oh shit yeah I definitely thought I had left it in the airbnb. I’m glad to know it’s safe and sound with you though. Sorry I must have thrown it in your bag or something.”

Sam laughs. “It’s quite alright. Would you like for me to bring it to you?”

Then a devious idea pops into your head.

“Actually, you know what? I can come by and grab it. I have to head over there anyway to stop by the office within the next hour.” You lie.

“Yeah sure, cool.” Sam says. “I’ll see you soon then?”

“Mhm I’ll be leaving here in a bit. I’ll bring over an early lunch.” You say, thinking of ways you could stall in the house.

“Birdie, you’re too good to me.” Sam says.

Then you hang up and sprint into your bathroom. Thankfully, you had already showered and done your hair. You really did need to go by the office, but that wasn’t until later. But you couldn’t wait. You had to see Jake. You had to know how he would react. You threw on a black skirt with a white tank top and a light knit cardigan. Then you threw on a pair of tall black boots, chunky gold hoops, and did some makeup. Finally you sprayed yourself down and threw on your sunglasses. This was record timing that you were ready. On the way you stopped by and got you and Sam salmon bowls from a local cafe. Then you arrived at their house. You saw Jake’s car sitting there and a wave of hope ran through your body. You collected yourself and went up to the door. You were greeted by Sam.

“You look lovely per usual.” He says, embracing you in a hug.

“Why thank you. I brought us salmon bowls.” You say holding up your offering.

Sam takes the food bag from you and says. “You’re an angel.” Before escorting you to the kitchen.

Josh and Danny are in the living room, but there’s no sign of Jake.

“Damn you didn’t bring your own cousin anything?” Danny asks, throwing his hands up in faux disbelief.

You chuckle. “Hey I’m repaying a favor here.”

He waves his hand off at you while Josh gives you a big smile. You and Sam sit down at the island and he immediately goes into conversation. You try to listen and participate, but your eyes are wandering around the house. Where is he? You continue to poke around at your bowl.

“Something on your mind?” Sam asks, in a lower voice.

You shake your head. “No, I'm good. It’s just been a strange past few days with work and all.”

“Well if you need a little escapism just know I’m your guy. We can go anywhere you want.” Sam offers.

You smile at him. For a moment Sam had made you feel better. You felt grounded. But that was yanked right out after you once you heard their front door unlatch. In walks Jake with a cocky smirk on his face. Then Danny and Josh start clapping and cheering at him.

“I take it your night went well?” Josh says, in a tone you can’t quite describe.

“Oh you bet your ass it did. Look at him, she did a number on him.” Danny chimes in, nudging Josh.

She?

Jake laughs. He doesn’t see you yet.

He opens his mouth to speak, but his eyes look over at Sam- then he sees you. Immediately that smirk is gone off of his face. You can tell by his demeanor and disheveled appearance he had just come back from sleeping with someone. You feel your heart physically shatter.

Jake quickly approaches you. “I didn’t know you were here.”

You nod your head. “Yeah I’m just grabbing something from Sam.”

“Oh shit, yeah let me go get that.” Sam says, getting up.

Jake just stares at you, he looks concerned. Like he knows how fucked up all of this is. You stare back at him blankly. Neither one of you speak a word to one another. Then Sam is back.

“Here you go. I was going to wash it, but with all of these strings I didn’t know how that would go.” Sam says.

You snap yourself out of your trance and force a smile on your face. “Thank you Sam. I actually better be off. I still have to go by the office. I’ll catch you later though.”

Sam boos you. “But you just got here!”

“Not all of us can live the lifestyle of a rockstar.” You say through a chuckle, but then immediately glare into Jake’s eyes after.

Jake sucks in his cheeks and hangs his head down a bit. You say your goodbyes and then get out of these as fast as you can. You don’t even make it to your car before the tears start flowing. You didn’t make it into the office that day.

You were gutted. It had been days since you left your apartment. You spoke to Margo briefly and then shut off your phone, only answering emails that you needed to for work. Honestly you weren’t even too sure what day it was. You decided today you would try to be a little better. So you got in the shower. You really ended up just sitting down until the water turned cold, but you did manage to bathe. Then you brushed your teeth and combed your hair. You slapped on some moisturizer and decided that was good enough. Then you changed into a huge t-shirt and sleep shorts. With your wet hair still dripping down your back, you decided you needed some tea. So you began the process of making green tea and threw a bagel in the toaster while you were up. It was bad, but you had absolutely neglected your body while you were wallowing in self-pity. If you ate, it was nothing more than a bag of chips or whatever candy you found in your drawer. When all of your things were ready, you decided to sit at your table and eat. It was a sunny day out, maybe you would go for a walk. You think the sadness had left your body, now you only harbored anger and resentment. You hated feeling this way, but nothing could change your mind. Then, your doorbell rang. You had no idea who it would be, but a small part of you hoped it was Jake. Hoping he would be there saying it was all a misunderstanding. That he’s sorry. But when you opened the door you saw Sam.

Sam doesn’t say anything at first. He just stares up at you, maybe even a little concerned. Then finally, he hits you with a “Hi.”

“Hi. Danny isn’t here.” You say softly.

Sam makes a face at you. “I know that. Can I come in?”

You nod your head and allow him inside. Your place could have been cleaner, that’s for sure. But Sam never said a word about it.

“Birdie. Are you okay? You’ve been radio silent the past few days. I came over to check on you because I was worried.” Sam says as soon as he’s inside.

“I’m fine. Just have a lot going on right now.” You say, not really looking Sam in the eye.

He bites his lip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head. “No actually. I think that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“Okay.” Sam says, walking off to your living room and plopping down.

You huff a laugh. “What are you doing?”

Sam smiles up at you. “Not talking about it.”

You smile at him. You think it’s the first time in days that your mouth has made this shape.

“I’m not going to let you sit here and mope around on such a beautiful day. Go put on some outside clothes.” Sam says.

“Sam-“ you start.

“Nope!” He says, putting his hand up. “I’m not hearing it. Come on now, daylight is wasting.”

A part of you wants to just go crawl into bed. But you decide to do as Sam says. You hair is almost dried at this point, so you let it go naturally wavy. Then pull out a simple sage green sundress. It’s spaghetti strapped and linen material that comes to your lower thigh. You decide to forgo a bra and slip on brown sandals with it. You put on a small gold necklace and some pearl studs. Then slap on concealer, a little bronzer, and brushed through your lashes. This was all you had energy for so you decided it was good enough. On the way out you grabbed a pair of tortoise shell sunglasses and sprayed yourself with perfume.

You came back to Sam about twenty minutes later announcing you were ready. He complimented you and then you were off. You really didn’t know where exactly you were going, but it felt good to leave your house.

Sam didn’t talk much on the way there. He just put on music and asked you if it was okay if he rolled the windows down. You said yes. Before long you couldn’t tell what hair was yours and what was Sam’s when the wind was flowing through, but it felt peaceful. The sun on your face, wind through your hair, music playing softly like the soundtrack of your life. You looked over briefly at Sam. He had a content smile on his face and gripped the wheel with one hand. You took in a deep breath and thought everything was going to be okay.

Eventually, Sam had pulled up outside of a park.

“Ready?” He asked, unbuckling his seatbelt.

You smile and nod.

You two casually stroll onto the sidewalk. It was a nice day, so there were quite a few people about. Children were playing and riding bikes. Many people were walking their dogs. Sam couldn’t help but smile and say hello to any dog he saw. That made your heart feel warm.

“So Birdie, how would you feel about ice cream?” Sam asked.

You pretend to contemplate. “Hm. I guess I wouldn’t protest.”

“Great. Because the reason I took you here was for that.”

He turns you and points about fifty yards to your left. There is an ice cream truck with a giant cow on the top.

“You’ve been here before?” You ask.

Sam shakes his head. “No, but it’s listed on trip advisor in the top ten of hidden date sites in Nashville.”

Sam’s cheeks grow pink and he doesn’t say anything else. It’s like he suddenly realized how he worded that.

You notice, but opt to make him feel comfortable so you smile. “Well let’s go.”

You had gotten a strawberry cone while Sam went with a pistachio cone. You two had made your way to a bench. Licking up your ice cream in comfortable silence.

“If you want to talk about what’s bothering you, I hope you know I’ll listen.” Sam suddenly says, softly.

You glance over at him then sigh. “It’s really nothing. Some guys just suck.”

It’s quiet for a moment, then Sam speaks. “Fuck em. Whoever it is, I’m certain you deserve better. Hell, you deserve the world Birdie. Don’t ever settle.”

You smile and reach over, putting your hand on his and give it a squeeze. “Thank you Sammy- and thank you for making me get out today. I feel better.”

Sam smiles and nods. “It’s the ice cream isn’t it?”

You let out a laugh. “Yes, most definitely the ice cream.”

You and Sam had walked around the park for a while until the light began to fade. Truthfully, you had forgotten mostly about your broken heart. You had been caught up in the conversation with Sam. Talking about anything and everything. You had decided to go back to your house to order food and watch a movie.

“Pizza?” Sam asked, sitting down at your counter while you got some seltzers for you two.

Your stomach fell at that. “Pass.”

“Okay. What about Chinese?”

You hum. “Vegetable fried rice and spring rolls?”

Sam smiles. “You’ve got yourself a deal. I’m going to call them. Go change into something comfy.”

You nod and Sam heads outside to call them. You pad back to your room. It feels good to take off the dress and be comfortable. That’s what it was like with Sam, comfortable. You opted for a pair of knit shorts with a large t-shirt. No bra, but the shirt was big enough that it wasn’t super noticeable. Then a pair of fluffy socks. When you headed back out Sam was back on your couch, smirking at you.

You give him a look. “What?”

“The food should be here in about twenty minutes, but I do have some party favors. If that interests you of course.” Sam retorts.

You let out a laugh. “Oh Sam I don’t know if you can keep up.”

“Me? I don’t think you’ll be able to hang Birdie.”

“Glad to see we’re both still degenerates.” You say, sitting down next to Sam.

He smiles at you. “Me too. But let’s eat first so at least we can taste this food. Do you have snacks?”

“Oh yes Sammy. In fact I have nothing but snacks. We will be good to hole up here for the night.”

Sam chuckles. “Perfect.”

The rest of the night consisted of you and Sam eating, smoking, eating again, watching documentaries, smoking again, and eating some more. You had both overcompensated on your tolerance, trying to impress the other. At the end of the night you insisted Sam stay and you both had a sleepover in your living room. It felt nice not to be alone. You had dozed off with your head on Sam’s shoulder, and you woke up in a similar position.

The sun was bright as you batted your eyes. Your mouth was insanely dry. It was hot. Then you realized why. You were in a ball on your couch and Sam was right next to you. You glanced up, he was still out. You needed to stretch so you quietly got up. You pinched your shoulder blades together and felt a satisfying crack. Then you made your way to grab a bottle of water, you drank the whole thing. After you went to pee and brushed your teeth. After you headed back into the living room and laughed at the scene. There were snack wrappers everywhere, blankets strewn about, the tv was still on, and Sam cramped on the couch. You covered him up and began cleaning. It was only a matter of minutes before he was awake.

“Good morning Birdie.” Sam says stretching up.

“Hi Sammy. Happy to know you survived.” You say with a smile.

He laughs. “Yeah me too. But I am going to steal a water.”

Then he’s up heading for your kitchen. He also slams a whole bottle then rejoins you. He jumps right in and helps you clean up everything. He even lights a candle to try and help with the faint odor leftover.

“Can I take you to breakfast?” Sam asks.

That makes your heart beat a little irregular.

“Yes.” You say with a smile.

Sam freshens himself up and you change. Then you’re both at a pancake house. Smiling and giggling at one another over coffee and hash browns. Giddy. That’s the only word you could think of to describe it. Sam had made you feel so at ease. He was caring, sweet, thoughtful, dependable. That was swirling in your head as you listened to him tell you a story about a camping trip he took. His smile made you smile. His laugh made you laugh. You were realizing that you were feeling…feelings? Is that what it was? Or was it a rebound from Jake? Just something to fill the void? You tryed not to think about it too much, but this was different than what you felt for Jake. But you had no idea how to formulate that into words.

“And then a fucking fire broke out from that idiot not dumping water on the embers. I single handedly stopped a massive wildfire from breaking out by sacrificing my favorite flannel.”

You giggled. “So you’re saying you’re the next Smokey the Bear?”

“Damn right. Sammy the lumberjack who was on mushrooms.”

You laugh again at him.

“Can I get y’all anything else?” The waitress asks.

“No ma’am. Just a check please.” Sam responds.

The waitress rips off your ticket and lays it on the table.

Sam picks it up without hesitation and pulls out his phone and wallet. “So I was thinking.” He says. “Would you like to get dinner later maybe? I have to run by the studio for a bit to work on some keys, but after I would like to take you to this vegetarian cafe. You don’t have to if you don’t want to or anything-“

“I’d love to.” You say with a smile.

Sam smiles back at you and lets out a breath. “Great. Ah shit, do me a favor Birdie. My phone is dead. Can you calculate twenty percent?”

You nod and begin to dig through your bag. You hadn’t really touched your phone in a few days. You turned it on and immediately became bombarded with messages. A few from Margo, Sam, one from Danny, and then…fuck.

One from Jake.

Can we talk?

That was it. He sent it yesterday. Nausea washes over you.

“You okay?” Sam asks, brows furrowed.

You swallow. “Yeah, yeah. What was the total?”

Sam told you and you calculated it, then turned your phone off again. You knew you couldn’t continue on like this.

You had to let it go.

You had to let Jake go.

***

• thank u for reading :)

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #sam gvf #sam kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #the moon #jake x reader #sam x reader #jake kiszka fic #sam kiszka fic #Sammy kiszka fic

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keirametzbrassknuckles · 11 months ago

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Bestie I just found a genuine mink fur coat at the thrift store, for $25. I’m kinda in shock and over the moon about this. I’ve been thrifting for years and never found a deal like this before. Anyways: I’m pretty sure it’s mink but it may be a different animal. It’s definitely genuine, but no tag. It’s knee-length, slouchy, and mostly brownish with darker brown (almost black) lines going vertically. I very rarely wear brown tho and I live in the middle of nowhere with no Occassions™️ to wear a fur coat to. So my question is: how do I style this?? Would it be weird to wear it into my 9-5 office job and/or as I’m running errands?? Do you have outfit suggestions??

Oooohhhh!!!! You hit jackpot my friend! Congrats that sounds like an absolutely delectable coat!

I am very pro wearing fur everywhere and at all times especially if you live somewhere cold so don't worry about finding an #occasion(tm). Absolutely wear it to run errands and to work (any side eye you get is flattery in another form) just be mindful of the weather and make sure you take good care of it. Good fur will last forever but no one likes mange lol.

I dont know what you have in your closet or what your usual style is so I can only speak for my own proclivities IRT styling. It's fur so it's more or less dressed up by default. Any jewelry or bling at all will push it way OTT. If that's your vibe I recommend pearls for the good ol dowager countess look. If you're looking for something a little more contemporary go monochrome (and yes I'm thinking black as I write this but chase your bliss) - turtleneck, boots (heel and shaft height and toe shape will really impact the overall #Vibe so try different combos and see whats comfy for you) and whatever matching pants you have (probably the slimmer the better? Try a bunch of fits but not leggings - thats way too tryhard Aspen slope bunny), big sunglasses and a matching leather bag or tote, hair up in a claw clip if you can/want to, maybe a pair of small hoops in the metal of your choice depending on how you feel - you're good to go. A midi silk slip skirt in place of the trousers would also work (any color but I recommend neutrals cause I'm me) with knee boots but that'll be much dressier. Avoid pairing it with blue jeans or sneakers that will cheapen the coat and also you (imagine Grisabella from Cats), you want a boot, something that doesn't break up your leg so the coat can speak for itself. If you're feeling particularly Brooklyn hipster get yourself a wide brimmed hat, some cowboy boots and a maxi skirt and wear the coat unbuttoned.

I've seen some exceptionally wealthy older women around where I work who wear their fur much more adventurously (plaids or monochrome green paired with big brooches or something) but I wouldn't know the first bit of advice to give about that.

I've never actually owned a fur coat so this is all conjecture on my part. Just throw together a bunch of outfits and try it out and see what works. Always dress how you're comfy and how you feel good. I hope you enjoy your new coat! I'm jealous!

#also i realize now that i have like 9 million asks in my inbox ive never answered because i never got the alert???#fuck???#i will be answering those tonight #im at a bar with nothing better to do

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bokumonocosplay · 3 years ago

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Breaking down an outfit

Cosplay is fun, but the process can be pretty daunting, especially when you’re faced with a design that’s on the more... intricate side, as is the case with many Rune Factory characters. In this post, I’m going to break down Beatrice’s outfit and offer some suggestions on how to make it, which will hopefully make it easier to understand. I chose Beatrice because she has one of the most complicated designs, but I recommend doing this sort of thing with every cosplay.

Disclaimer: this is just my opinion, based on my own experience. Feel free to chime in if you have any other suggestions or ideas!

There’s a lot to unpack here.

So let’s get started!

I’m going to begin at the bottom.

Beatrice’s shoes and legs are pretty straightforward. I think it would be fairly easy to modify a pair of shoes, but honestly you could get away with a simple pair of blue heels without modifying them at all. I find that a lot of the time shoes aren’t even in shot, and even when they are they’re never the first thing you notice. It’s up to you, but I don’t recommend spending a lot of time on shoes that are so small and simple. If you do want accurate shoes, you could use foam and/or worbla to add the gold piece at the front, and cover strips of stiff interfacing with bias binding for the ankle loops. Alternatively you could paint the ankle pieces, which might get more accurate colours. If you want all the colours to match the rest of the outfit exactly, make shoe covers.

Beatrice is also wearing a pair of white thigh high socks, held up with what looks like a garter belt or pair of garters. You can quite easily buy socks with a similar pattern at the top, or if you want complete accuracy you could paint the pattern yourself. Garters and garter belts are easy to find on sites like eBay, though you will see some, er, slightly less sfw listings 😅

The skirt is where things start to get complicated so I’m going to look at it layer by layer.

Unless Beatrice is using magic she is definitely wearing some sort of undergarment to keep her skirt that shape, and I think it’s a hoop skirt. You can make a hoop skirt but they’re so readily available that I would just buy one. There are shops dedicated to making high quality undergarments and they are where you want to go for something comfortable and durable, however I used a cheap one from eBay for my Dolce cosplay and it was fine - not the most comfortable thing in the world but I wasn’t in any pain, it worked without any problems, and it’s still in good condition. Consider how often you’ll want to wear your cosplay and if you’ll want to use the hoop skirt again.

The next layer is a black skirt. You could buy one and alter the hem, but it would probably be cheaper to make one and circle skirts are very easy. The white line is probably embroidered but if you don’t have access to an embroidery machine, try using fabric paint pen or a fabric paint pen - or don’t add it at all, since it’s absent from her in-game portrait haha. For the gold decorations, you could paint them on with fabric paint, or glue gold cloth over thin craft foam to make them more 3D. I’d be cautious of using anything heavier because it might stretch the fabric.

Looking from different angles I don’t think the black skirt goes all the way around, it appears to vanish at the back, but I honestly can’t tell if that’s a design choice or just an oversight with the model. Personally I don’t think you’ll lose anything by having a full skirt, and you’ll need a full hoop skirt anyway. Just make sure the white layer comes down far enough to cover it.

Speaking of...

As far as I can tell, the white part of the skirt is made from two layers. The top layer, which I have outlined in red, makes up most of the skirt. It parts at the front and back to show the layer underneath, which I have outlined in green. This layer is mostly only visible from the front, apart from a single piece at the back. The small crosses at the points are most likely stitches, and the border is a hem.

To make these I would alter two circle skirts, using a template for the edges.

Side note - I'm not sure if the triangular piece at the front is it’s own layer, part of the red layer but outlined with stitches, or a single piece sewn onto the red layer underneath. What you do is up to you but I would probably pick the last option. Similarly with the small blue diamonds.

The ‘tails’, outlined in blue, annoy me 🙃 because on the 3D model they’re just sort of stuck onto the back?? It’s difficult to see but the corners clip over the pale blue layer. In my opinion (and like I’ve drawn), they should go all the way up and attach to the rest of the skirt at the waist.

They also have gold crosses on the inside layer that are visible from the front. You could make appliques for these, since they appear slightly raised, or paint them on.

The pale blue layer is a funky shape, but I think fairly easy to make once you’ve figured it out. I recommend using cheap fabric to make a mock up first. It also appears to be quite stiff, so I’d add interfacing for support. For the gold around the edges, you could use bias binding, cloth-covered craft foam or, to make them look truly made of gold, worbla.

This layer also seems to be attached to the dark blue layer by the gold pieces on Beatrice’s waist - see how the top of the skirt sort of disappears underneath them at the front and doesn’t reach all the way to Beatrice’s waist.

The dark blue layer consists of two main pieces that look like a pretty simple shape - but again, you’ll want to make a mock-up first to be sure it looks right from every angle. The only thing I think might be difficult is getting the pieces to sit like that - slightly raised with the underneath visible. Again I think you’d have to put interfacing or even wire inside.

As for the gold pieces on Beatrice’ hips, you could use worbla or foam clay. Draw an outline first on graph paper or similar and use it as a base to make sure everything is even and symmetrical. The circular gold pieces at the waist however will be under quite a lot of stress, they need to be either very sturdy or made out of something flexible, like foam.

Moving up again...

As you may have noticed, the white layer isn’t just a skirt, it’s part of the backless dress that makes up a large part of Beatrice’s outfit.

I reason I talked about the skirt separately is because you do not need to make these as one piece; in fact I’d advise against it because in my experience, single piece dresses don’t make for good, big skirts like Beatrice’s. The waist seam is hidden, and it would be much, much easier to make the skirt and attach the bodice separately. If you do want to make them as one piece, I still recommend making a mock-up out of two pieces to use as a base first.

Here’s how I would break it down:

Look there’s a reason why I don’t do fanart jsjsjs

Yellow is skirt, green is bodice, blue is collar.

The collar is a separate piece, and the ‘tassel’ on the front looks like it’s made of three pieces of sheer black fabric, layered slightly apart from each other.

The back and side are mostly covered up but here’s how I think they must look:

You could have the collar open at the front but I would be worried about it not sitting right. I think it would be easiest to have a fastening at the back since it would be well hidden by the hair and the fur. Speaking of the fur, that can easily be made with a couple of short strip, of black faux fur.

Back to the bodice.

I figure this blue layer has to be attached to the white layer or it wouldn’t stay up lol. Again this is a simple shape; the main question is how to get it on and off. You could add an invisible zip up the back but I think the best thing to do would be to add a fastening at the back of the neck - with the way both layers are constructed there’s enough room to pull them over your head.

As for the butterfly... this is one of the things I would leave until last. In fact I would consider not making it at all, since although it’s cute it won’t do much except get tangled in the wig. It isn’t visible from the front or back except from certain angles. But if you do make it, use craft foam sheets. Then it would be light and comfortable.

Beatrice’s sleeves are basically tubes - the bulge in the middle is caused by the fastening. You can find tutorials for flared sleeves online but in my experience they really are just a tube that gets wider as it goes down haha. Beatrice is also wearing white fingerless gloves, which are easier to make than regular gloves but still easy to buy.

As for their construction, they look like a full blue sleeve with a split black layer on top, and lace at the wrist. You could make the lace from white fabric, but there’s also plenty of lace available to buy if you don’t mind being slightly inaccurate. I’m not entirely sure if the gold pieces on the elbows are supposed to be actual gold that was made to look like fabric or just fabric. I think either would look good, but I would probably use cloth and/or foam for the ones on the upper arms because anything heavier might pull the sleeves out of place.

Last but not least, the hair and tiara.

I don’t have much to say about Beatrice’s hair, I think it would be pretty easy to style a wig and wigs in this colour are easy to find. I’d advise starting with a curly wig and straightening it at the front because I find curling more difficult than straightening, and you’ll want a thick wig - both to have enough hair to make the braids but also because pale wigs tend to be more see-through. As for the braids themselves, don’t be afraid of using lots of bobby pins and hairspray, especially to secure the ends!

Prop tip: trick for making good bows is to not actually make bows! Make the ‘wings’ and knot separately and sew them together, then sew it onto the wig.

They straight up didn’t model her hair ties properly but I suggest sticking the gold pieces onto gold ribbon - although to keep the hair in place you’ll want to use tight rubber bands first.

Now for the tiara. Unlike most of the other gold pieces it’s very thick and 3D. One method would be to carve it out of thick foam, adding layers where you need, and cover it with worbla. Another is to sculpt it out of silk clay. Either way, you should use a template to make it as symmetrical as possible. Also, it’s a good idea to attach head pieces directly onto wigs to stop them from slipping around and falling off.

You may be able to buy or commission fake crystals, or you could make them yourself. The obvious method is resin casting, but hot glue is a cheaper and (relatively!) safer alternative.

For the lil wings, I’d say don’t use real feathers because imo they never look that great haha. Instead, make layers from sheets of craft foam and paint them white. Beatrice’s tiara wings probably aren’t made with real feathers anyway.

And there you have it! This outfit will never be exactly easy to make, but I hope this post has made it easier to understand. All of the tips and techniques I’ve mentioned can be found in more detail online, but as always, feel free to ask any questions!

#rune factory #rf5 #rune factory 5 #beatrice rune factory #cosplay reference #mod post #long post

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hestia-a-a · 3 years ago

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I claim to be a fanart account but here I am definitely not posting fanart. If you look on Instagram tho big dresses are kind of my thing it’s very on point. Anyways I was going to put it there on the ‘gram (oh noooo I sound so old) but it would totally mess up the thing. Is it feed? The thing on the home page where there are the squares??? That thing. Whatever it’s called. It would be woefully disrupted.

This is like that one meme that was like big shirt little pants, big pants gay little pants except it’s 1800s fashion. Also sorry little sleeves big skirt is so blurry I knew should have gone for the bustle instead of 1850s because it would have been perfect! Too bad I think bustle are kinda ugly. Don’t get me wrong I love them. But they’re just… someone thought that looked good and why when you could have huge hoop skirts like in the 50s? What’s not to like about barely fitting through the door frame? Anyways I honestly think I’m big sleeves big skirt. The vibes just suit me. Plus I’m in love with the 1830s.

If I had to give a ted talk it would be on this stuff ^^^ I’m sorry for my rant 🤷‍♀️

#historical fashion #dresses #19th century fashion #regency #regency dress #what is going on #what am i doing #anyway yeah

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jobean12-blog · 4 years ago

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Booyah!

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,725

Summary: You and Bucky use Tony’s time machine to take a trip back to NYC 1995 and visit Fao Schwarz and have a fun night out.

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club 24 hour surprise drabble challenge and Traveling Through Time (which was my idea haha) I decided to do something really sort of ridiculous and silly. Tony built a time machine bc we know he can and the team gets to just have fun with it. It was hard to decide when to go back to but I picked the 90s because it’s part of my childhood. Although, I was way too young to be clubbing then- but I definitely went to Fao Schwarz! haha Anyway, hope you enjoy this. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Silly and fun fluff! Kisses! Some implied sexy fun! It’s just you and Bucky checking out 1995 for a few days, a few fun 90s slang phrases that I hopefully used right HAHA ;)

“Doll, are you sure this is a good idea?” Bucky looks at you before his eyes scan the time machine in Tony’s lab, the lights blinking sporadically and a low hum echoing off the walls. “I mean, what if we get stuck in 1995?” You give him a good once-over, letting your eyes linger at how nicely his white tee fits across his chest, “listen, you’re gonna love it and you’ll fit right in.” You let your gaze drop to his ass in the tight high waisted jeans before giving your belt a tug and pulling your jean jacket over your shoulders, “let’s go!”

He takes your hand and follows you inside, still unsure about the idea, “I wish this thing looked more like the DeLorean. At least we’d arrive in style. Well, here goes nothing.” Bucky closes the door and takes you in his arms, pulling down the lever and squeezing his eyes shut. For a second it feels like you’re free falling and you shriek, clinging to Bucky in a death grip. When the feeling subsides, you open your eyes and give Bucky a nervous glance. “You ok?” he asks quietly, smoothing some hair from your face. “Yes, you?”

Bucky nods, grasping your hand and pushing open the door of the time machine. “Woah.” You look outside and you’re greeted by the bright billboards of 1995’s times square. The Sony and Panasonic brand names stream across the skyline. “Hey, look at the Coca Cola symbol! That’s so cool!” You start pointing out all the fun things you recognize as Bucky just spins around in a circle, admiring the flashing lights and noises of the city streets.

After turning on the cloaking device for the machine he finally speaks, “ok, this is da bomb! I mean Times Square our time is cool, but this just feels different, lots of energy.” You narrow your eyes at his use of the 90s slang phrase, “are you making fun?” It’s hard to hide your smile when he takes your hand and holds it tightly in his own, exclaiming, “as if! It’s hella good!” You let your laughter loose and clutch your belly, trying to calm your breathing before saying, “let’s start with some toys!” Bucky’s eyebrows raise at the mention of toys and you smack his arm, “not those kinds of toys Buck. Although, we can definitely find some fun shops around here later if you want.”

He winks and lets you lead him away from the crowd to hail a cab. “Are you gonna tell me where we’re going baby girl?” You shake your head and slide into the car, giving the man an address with no name. The driver smiles and takes off, Bucky’s arm sliding around your shoulders so he can pull you close. “Ok, so this is totally fun. Who knew time travel would ever be a real thing?” You giggle and snuggle closer, “only for Tony and a lucky select few.”

When you pull up in front of FAO Schwarz, Bucky nearly jumps out of the cab, “no way! What a perfect idea! I haven’t been here in forever.” He takes your hand and rushes toward the door, stopping so abruptly you smash into his solid back. “Shit doll. I’m so sorry, I just wanted to ask if you had an extra hair tie?” Forgetting all about your dizziness you give him a mischievous smirk, “do I have a hair tie?” Your eyebrows wiggle so fast he starts to fidget nervously, “oh no. I’m definitely sorry I asked.”

You reach into your backpack and pull out a bright blue velvet scrunchie, “here you go Buck.” He first glares at the scrunchie before gracing you with the same look, “fine. Just. Don’t tell anyone.” He gathers his hair between his long fingers and pulls it to the base of his neck, securing it in messy bun with the bright blue velvet. “You. Look. Amazing.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but starts jogging toward the door, holding it open before dashing in behind you. The moment you enter the store you’re hit with a buzz of electricity from all the energy. It’s mobbed and there’s so much to look at you can barely focus your eyes. You hold tight to Bucky’s hand as you two start to wander around, acting like two kids every time you discover something new.

Bucky spots these giant bouncy Earth balls and grabs one, throwing it straight at your head. “Good catch,” he shouts, laughing when you launch it back at him as hard as you can. “And nice throw.” He picks up a basketball next and throws it at the hoop standing nearby, getting a clean shot in. “Now you’re just showing off.” He slides up next to you and pulls you in for a kiss. “Is it working?” he teases against your lips, deepening the kiss.

You nibble his bottom lip and reluctantly drag yourself away, “definitely.” With a giggle you head off toward the stuffed animal section, nearly screeching when you find the biggest stuffed teddy bear you’ve ever seen. “OH MY GOD BUCKY! I neeeeeed him!” When he doesn’t answer you turn around and can barely see his large frame hidden behind the biggest stuffed dog ever. “EEEEEE nevermind! I want him.”

Bucky somehow manages to get you into his arms while still holding the dog, “I think he needs to come home with us. You can hug him when I’m away on missions and you miss me.” You cuddle them both and nod into his chest, “yes please.” Bucky puts him back on the shelf so you can get him on the way out and heads up the escalator. You both smile big when you pass the iconic clock with the train and Bucky leans in close, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, “I love you.”

When you reach the second floor his eyes nearly bug out of his head at the sight of the Lego section. “Holy shit, this is insane!” You watch as he runs from set to set, gawking over how amazing each one is, “doll, you have to see this!” Following him around you can’t help but feel like a giddy kid, helping him pick out some sets to take home, “get whatever you want Buck. It will be fun to do these together.”

By the time you reach the checkout you’ve got the giant dog, several Lego sets and a few other trinkets you couldn’t resist. You stow everything away in the hidden time machine and laugh when your stomach growls, “I need to eat!” Bucky enthusiastically agrees, “let’s bounce!” You laugh while hailing another cab, at this point almost getting used to his usage of the fun 90s phrases, “aiiiiiight, Buck.”

Bucky’s stomach grumbles again and you pat it, dancing your fingers up to his jaw, “we’re almost there.” The food at Nobu does not disappoint and by the time you guys leave you’re full of delicious Japanese inspired cuisine. Bucky rubs his stomach, “I want to eat there every day!” You laugh, “me too! Ok, so let’s head to the hotel and nap and then get changed for our night out.”

You walk along the streets, your pace slow and easy as you enjoy the sights and sounds of everything around you. Once you reach the Plaza hotel you check in and head upstairs to your room, immediately toeing off your shoes and running a bath in the jacuzzi tub. Bucky watches as you remove your clothes and step into the hot water, sighing as it covers your body.

He quickly strips and gets in, situating himself behind you and pulling you between his legs. “If this is what every day in 1995 is like I’m not sure we should go back.” You rest your head back against his chest and moan when he lathers the soap into his hands and starts massaging your head. “I know right. But what about your home skillet, Steve? He’ll miss you so much!”

Bucky quietly repeats the term home skillet, clearly questioning its meaning while you keep going on about the time machine and why you have to go back. It isn’t until Bucky’s metal fingers dip between your legs that you’re ripped from your rambling thoughts. “Fuck,” you gasp, instantly on fire for him. The next hour goes by in a haze of soft touches, mingled breaths and tangled limbs. By the time you leave the bath your body feels like jelly and you’re more than ready for some rest.

After a nice nap you get up to get ready, changing into a look more suited for the club scene. Bucky eyes you appreciatively when you step out of the bathroom in your crop top and short skirt, “wow you look fly.” You take in his tight jeans and crisp tee shirt, the whole look completed with his leather jacket, “so do you. Ready to party?”

When the cab pulls up to Limelight you can already hear the loud thump of the bass and the line is down the street. “Woah, this place is hoppin’!” You laugh at his choice of words and get on the line, moving your hips and shimming against Bucky while you wait. “If you don’t cut it out I’m gonna have to drag you into a dark corner the second we get in there.” You don’t stop and the closer you get to the door the more you grind yourself over him. “Doll, you’re asking for it.” You turn around and throw him a million-dollar smile, “whatever.”

The instant you step into the club you can feel the air around you shift, the music vibrating through your body as strongly as the energy that radiates off the crowd. Bucky keeps you close as you make your way across the sea of writhing bodies and find yourselves a spot on the dance floor. The dancers on the platforms leave little to the imagination and the rhythm of the music just sets the mood for play. Bucky’s hands roam over every inch of your skin as you lose yourselves in the rowdy debauchery, finding it almost impossible to resist. Bucky’s lips meet your ear in a husky promise, “if you keep moving like this we’re gonna get jiggy with it right here on the dance floor.”

@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky @buckstaybucky @bisousbucky @breezy1415 @buckys-henley @book-dragon-13 @chuuulip @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @hawksmagnolia @harrysthiccthighss @ikaris-whore @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @lorilane33 @littledarlinhavefaithinme @lookiamtrying @littleredstarfish @lokilvrr @marvelandotherfandomimagines @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @nerdypinupcrystal @pinkdiamond1016 @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @tuiccim @the-wayward-robot @this-kitten-is-smitten @yansi1923

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haymaker-mva · 4 years ago

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– The Pigtails are Off – (4)

Part 4: The three times Luka met Marinette

Now, you may be wondering: How did everyone get their carmines? All of the students found carmines and a note on their front steps the day Marinette reached the end of her rope. It can be assumed that Marinette used her connections to get a carmine to everyone. Except Marc because she wanted to give his carmine to him with Nathaniel at school/in person. Also about that, The Confrontation (As I'm calling it) happens at lunch. Marinette left and didn't come back for the rest of the day. Hope that cleared any confusions up! Sorry for the long notes section.

Also, I planned to post this after having another part done, but I feel guilty having a part ready while having no motivation to write lately. So, take this and prepare for a long wait.

Ao3 - First - Previous - Next

When Luka Couffine first met Marinette, it was years before he met her.

...

For good measure, Marinette slipped a carmine onto his wrist. Just in case.

When Luka Couffine first met Marinette, it was years before he met her.

Let me explain.

It was about two years ago, when he was fifteen. He was trying to get into the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie when he bumped into a girl.

She had long black hair that flowed down her back in waves. It shone with blue highlights that the sun cast, and she wore a jean jacket and a black pleated skirt with pink edges. Her boots were a dark brown, and she also had a pair of pink hoop earrings. Last was her tank top, which was white with a black Jagged Stone design.

Anyway, she was walking out of the bakery with something whitte folded in her arms. She seemed to be glaring at the item annoyedly when Luka opened the door and promptly walked into her.

She fell backwards, onto her butt, gripping the fabric of her item tightly. Luka fell backwards as well, and he just managed to save the guitar that had previously been on his back. Luka looked up at who he had crashed into, and the first thing he noticed was the tank top.

“Sorry… wait, you like Jagged Stone?” Luka said dumbly.

“Ugh.. yeah, I do. What’s it to you?” The girl replied, getting up off the ground. Her voice wasn’t annoyed, just apprehensive. Luka could hear her song stutter, as if she wasn’t used to people asking things like that to her.

“I love Jagged Stone! I wanted to ask where you got that shirt?” Luka asked, finally getting up and slinging his guitar back over his shoulder.

“...I made it. The design is official but It always was too small or the fabric was too rough in official merch.” The girl told him.

“Oh. I asked so I could get one of my own. I agree with what you said about official merch. Jagged really needs to get a better provider or something.” Luka agreed, moving off to the side inside the bakery with her.

“Well, I have a t-shirt that’s pretty much the same that I could give you,” The girl offered, holding out the item that Luka now knew was a shirt. “I originally made it for myself, but I misjudged the measurements and made it too big.”

“That’d be awesome!” Luka said, taking the surprisingly soft t-shirt and holding it up to himself. “How much do I owe you?”

“You want to pay me?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. “It’s a leftover, it’s fine.”

“No, you made it and now you’re just giving it to someone you’ve never met. I’m paying you.” Luka pulled twenty dollars out of his pocket and put it into the girl’s hand.

“It’s honestly fine,” She started, but a ring from her phone cut her off. She glanced at it, and her eyes went wide. “I have to go!” She turned and rushed out the door, not even remembering her resistance to getting paid for her work.

Luka watched her rush off with a small smile, and walked up to the counter to buy something for him and Juleka. Picture day was today, and she probably just got home. Best to stock up on treats.

The second time Luka met her was around a year ago, when he was seventeen and she was sixteen.

This time he had heard of her from Juleka before the second meet. He had been all ready and stocked up for a comfort session because it was picture day for Juleka. But when she got back, she was all smiles. Luka listened to her speak about a girl named Marinette like she was a god on earth. But Juleka also seemed nervous. Like she wasn’t sure if she was doing something wrong or not. But that was just Luka’s guess.

Anyway, Luka was just happy that Juleka finally had a good picture day. Luka was immensely grateful for this Marinette, he would have to make sure to thank her when he met her.

A few weeks later Marinette was walking dejectedly towards the room that she was told Luka would be in. As soon as she was out of sight of the others she straightened her slouched back and wiped the sadness off of her face.

She knew she should be a bit more careful, but it was annoying to act like her life revolved around a guy. It painted her as endearing and not a threat, so it was “worth” it. Some days she got tired of it though. In reality, Marinette only had a small crush on the boy. She liked his kind personality, but it wasn’t anything as extreme as she played it up to be.

Anyway, Marinette walked towards the doorway to what she assumed was Juleka and Luka’s room. She walked in to see a boy with deep black hair that was dyed teal at the edges. He wore a slightly worn Jagged Stone shirt that looked familiar to Marinette. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be meditating. She shook her head and looked at him calculatingly. This must be Luka. He looked like the calm type. He definitely liked music, she could see a guitar on his bed.

His eyes opened and she immediately scrambled to look like she just got there.

“H-hey! My name’s Ma-Ma-Marinette! It-uh, your Mom sent me down here, the grove, er, um, the group’s- waiting for you.” She stuttered “nervously.”

` -

Luka studied the girl who had just come in.

As soon as she walked in the door, Luka could feel confidence and poise radiating off of someone. His eyes had been closed, but the orchestra that was this girl’s song was unignorable. He opened his eyes after a moment of listening to the carefully crafted sound that flowed out of her. For a split second after opening his eyes he saw her face. She was looking at him with the expression of a scientist, detached and serious. She seemed to be evaluating him. But after that millisecond, she scrambled and started stuttering.

“H-hey! My name’s Ma-Ma-Marinette! It-uh, your Mom sent me down here, the grove, er, um, the group’s- waiting for you.”

He studied her for a moment. This personality was miles away from what he had just seen. Her music was the same, except for a small flute sound that represented her current behavior. This was off. The way Marinette was acting… it wasn’t real. He decided to play along for now though. If her previously seen personality was anything to go by, this girl was confident in herself. Usually there was something to back that type of raw confidence up. Also, he was thankful for what she had done for his sister.

“Hi, Ma-Ma-Marinette.” He said, chuckling behind his hand.

She looked away for a moment, and by the way she stood he would assume she was sad. But her music suggested otherwise. She was angry. Deafeningly angry.

“Sorry,” He backtracked, still trying to act like he didn’t know what she was doing. Not that he did, he had no clue why she was faking her personality. “I didn’t mean to offend. I tend to make more sense with this.”

Luka reached over to his guitar and pulled it into his lap. He readied himself and patted the bed, motioning for Marinette to sit down. She compiled, and sat down with an expression of curiosity on her features.

He started playing the melody he heard from her, although he couldn’t do it justice with just one instrument. He kept quiet, letting the music speak for himself. (He totally wasn’t afraid to say something wrong and anger the frightening girl. Not at all.)

As he played, he saw Marinette’s eyes close, and her hand came up to rest on her heart. She seemed to relax, letting a small smile creep onto her face. It was the first real reaction he had seen her give. (And purposefully let him see, that is.)

He smiled, and closed his eyes too, absorbing himself in the sound of the music.

After that meeting, Luka couldn’t keep Marinette off of his mind. What has she been hiding? Why was she wearing such a thick mask? His curiosity with Marinette started as just that, a curiosity. But over time and more encounters, he found himself falling for her. Not her fake stuttering and demeanor, but the snippets of her true self he saw shining through. His heart beat faster when she grew determined or confident.

Luka knew that he was falling hard and fast, and for a girl that kept her guard up constantly. He managed to get more moments of her real personality whenever she got immersed in his music. So, he wrote more music for her. Juleka noticed, obviously, and Luka noticed her nervousness at his new crush (it totally wasn’t growing bigger then that...right?), but didn’t know what to make of it. What he didn’t notice was Juleka’s fear.

And now the third and last, yet somehow the first time Luka Couffine met Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Juleka handed Luka the piece of paper.

“What’s this? Is this what Sabrina was here so early for?” He asked, taking the folded paper.

“N-no… Well, yes, b-but it’s from Marinette.” With that, Juleka left the room to meet with Rose, who was standing on the dock to the boat.

Luka looked at the paper in his hand. Juleka’s music had been sporadic, messy. But he could feel relief seeping in. He wondered what was up.

Anyway, he unfolded the note, and read the contents.

“Meet at the Trocadéro at 4 pm. Will explain later.”

Luka’s eyebrows arched. What was this? Was something happening? Was she…? No. Luka couldn’t get his hopes up. He folded the note and slipped it in his pocket.

Looks like he was going to the Trocadéro later that day.

Hours later, Luka sat atop a bench on the bridge in the Trocadéro. He absentmindedly strummed his guitar, letting the music echo around him as he waited.

After around five minutes of waiting, Luka heard the impressive orchestra of Marinette’s song. He turned to see her, and was shocked by her new look. He blinked, getting over his initial surprise, and smiled, patting the spot on the bench beside him.

Marinette obliged, sitting down with an unreadable expression on her face. She closed her eyes and listened to Luka playing her song. After a minute or two, she knew it was time to explain.

“I’m willing to bet you already knew I was faking.”

“Yep, you can’t hide your true self when I can see what displays who you truly are.” Luka realized what he said, and expected to be hit with a, “...what?”, but instead was met with silence. He blinked in surprise at the lack of reaction, and looked to his right to see Marinette staring at the water with a thoughtful expression painted across her face.

“You mean because of my ‘song?’” She asked.

Her question took him off guard, but Luka quickly tried to recover. “Y-yeah, pretty much. I’m not good with words, like I said when we first met.”

She let a small laugh fall from her lips. After that though, Luka desperately tried to stop thinking about her, uhm, lips. He blinked, and she was talking again. “I’m sorry- no, I’m not really sorry. I did what I did to try and experience a bit of normal. Maybe reform myself.” She sighed, a frustrated expression on her face. “But it was hard to keep that demeanor up. Especially once Lila started feeding everyone lies about my ‘actions’ and ‘bullying.’”

“I think you should just be who you are, corny as that sounds.” Luka replied, nudging her with his shoulder. “Or if you really do want to get better, do it little by little. Don’t just jump headfirst into a new personality.”

“Yeah, I kinda get that now,” She snarked dryly.

“But I wouldn’t blame you for being petty right about now. I know a bit about Lila from the rest of Kitty Section, and she seems like a bitch.”

Marinette surprised him by laughing. “You hit the nail right on it’s head, she is such a snake. No wait, that would be an offence to snakes.” She smirked knowingly.

Luka and Marinette talked until it was dark and they had to go home. For good measure, Marinette slipped a carmine onto his wrist. Just in case.

Ao3 - First - Previous - Next

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beholdme · 4 years ago

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 6

Chapters: 6/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can't help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

"Do you really hate Keats that much?" Martin asks Jon, sounding faintly betrayed. They're sitting on a pile of cushions in front of Gerry's big window, while the man himself stands painting nearby.

There has been no previous mention of Keats since they arrived several hours ago, nor in the entire course of Gerry knowing them together.

Granted, he had barely been awake when they had arrived, having rolled out of bed just seconds before the knock came, but Gerry thought he had been keeping fairly decent track of the overall conversation.

He had thought Sunday brunch was a great idea when Jon suggested it during the week. Only remembering half-way through his shift the previous night that he was normally dead asleep during that time on a Sunday. But needs must, and after coffee and food, he was feeling downright perky at having two cute boys in his apartment.

Jon and Martin had settled into the pillow pile to occupy themselves while Gerry wandered off to paint, and they had spent several hours each engaged in their own artistic endeavors, simply enjoying the energy of one another's company.

Jon had started out reading but kept getting distracted by the way the light in the studio catches in Gerry's dark red hair, tied up in a chaotic messy bun, and had idly been strumming Gerry's old acoustic guitar for a while instead. Martin had been writing in a notebook, tongue often caught between his teeth in contemplation, glasses pushed up onto the top of his hair.

Jon stops playing abruptly and Gerry winces at the discordant note the guitar lets out in protest.

"I think Keats is pretty cool," offers Gerry cheerfully.

"Thank you, Gerard, very helpful," grouses Jon in return, glaring at him. Gerry blows him a kiss and returns to his canvas.

"I don't hate Keats, Martin." Jon's voice is slow and soft in the way that indicates that he's actually trying to be sensitive, "I just think he's overrated. After spending so much time in uni pouring over his boring symbolism, I'm just sick of him."

Jon's English literature degree, which Gerry remembers with some humour does not qualify him for a job at a library, had been a pain to get, and he doesn't always remember that part of his life with any great fondness.

"I know, but-" Martin cuts off abruptly and there's unexpected silence for a moment.

"Gerry, do you have a cat?" Jon's voice is incredulous and somewhat delighted at the new development.

"Yes," Gerry replies, very casually. He looks around to find that the cat has indeed wandered in and is sitting in a shaft of sunlight, black fur shining. "Jon, Martin, meet Saturn. Saturn, this is Jon and Martin."

Saturn blinks at them, before abruptly standing, showing them his butt, and then walking over to twine between Gerry's legs. Gerry deposits his painting supplies nearby and reaches down to scoop Saturn up, before carrying him over to sit with the others.

"He's not always great with new people, but hopefully he'll warm up to you. He can be a great cuddler when he wants to be." Saturn eyes them all speculatively before sitting on his own cushion and curling up in a fluffy ball.

"So he's like the Jon cat?" Martin asks, sneaking out a finger to scratch Saturn's fluffy little ears. He purrs lightly and Gerry grins to see them getting along.

"Well-" Jon splutters indignantly, face warming beneath his tan.

They both laugh and Gerry leans towards Martin to whisper conspiratorially, "He's not even embarrassed about being bad with new people. He's shy that we know how good of a cuddler he is."

Jon presses his lips together with a long-suffering expression, also reaching out a hand to pet the purring feline. Saturn rolls over towards him and gets a belly rub for his efforts.

"There we go," Gerry mutters happily. "All my favorite boys, getting along so well."

There's more sputtering from both Jon and Martin at that, but Gerry only laughs and leans over to kiss the tops of their heads.

***

Jon sighs and rubs the back of his neck, trying to release the burning tension sitting in all the joints of his spine.

It's 1 A.M. and the library is long, long closed, doors locked and lights turned out. He doesn't know how he gets here sometimes. Elias has certainly never overtly demanded he work overtime, and yet Jon always feels the need to push a little harder, do more than anyone would consider even remotely reasonable.

He accepted a while ago, that his irrational drive for perfection in this job stems from his self-doubt and fear of inadequacy.

And yet, that understanding does nothing to get him home at a reasonable hour, even when he remembers the two men who always seem to be around when he needs them.

It's unfathomable to Jon how he managed to find himself in a relationship with not one but two incredibly understanding and supportive men who love him. He considers it a downright miracle that they also seemed to be finding their way towards loving one another. Although, who wouldn't love Martin and Gerry?

He checks his watch again. Martin is definitely asleep, and even just stumbling in to lie in bed with him would disturb him. He knows the sweet man would say he doesn't mind, but he feels like if he can't get back at a reasonable hour, he doesn't deserve to sleep next to him at all.

Gerry, on the other hand, is mostly nocturnal. A quick check of his phone shows that it's actually Friday, and he is working at the bar for another hour or so.

While Jon has his phone in his hand, he opens up their text chain.

Gerry: Don't work too late. Martin and I want you functional so that we can drag you out to that street market this weekend.

Jon: I won't.

Gerry: Yes, you will. But try to keep it pre-midnight ;)

'He's awake,' Jon tells himself firmly. 'He'll be happy to see you, even if you did work even later than he predicted.'

So Jon packs up his stuff and leaves the library. He considers a cab, but it's only a few blocks and he thinks the fresh air and exercise will unlock the tension in his poor abused spine.

He arrives at the bar just before closing. Gerry is busy charming a few drunk regulars out the door with promises of undying love and that the bar will be back tomorrow afternoon. After they stumble off, he turns to find Jon walking slowly towards him. Gerry is wearing combat boots, dark jeans, and a loose leather tank top, over a lace undershirt. He has his favorite hoop in his nose, and the light glints off the many piercings in his ears.

"Why, Gerry Delano, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Gerry grins at Jon's teasing tone and echoed words, no sign of recrimination about him.

"I always am." Jon reaches Gerry at that, and they draw together, pressing tired lips against each other gently.

Gerry's hair has faded out a bit from the moody red, and Jon slips his hands into his hair to hold him close for a moment longer. They rock together on the street for a long, frozen moment.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Gerry asks, pulling away and sliding his hands down Jon's arms to connect their fingers.

"I missed you," Jon confesses shakily, emotion spilling out of his voice.

"Good, I missed you too." Gerry drags him into the bar and fills the air with stories from his shift while he and his colleagues clean for the evening, closing up the bar.

They walk home arm in arm, Gerry flirting with him mercilessly. Jon sheds the day's tension as they go, and by the time they arrive at Gerry's loft, he's warm and relaxed.

He supposes he should probably go back to his own flat, but it's not a place he spends the night very often anymore, and he fears the creeping insomnia that will take him without Martin and Gerry around to soothe him into sleep. Besides, Gerry is right here with him, and he seems so pleased to have him around.

"Are you going to paint now?" Jon asks as they shed their work clothes. Jon is sorry to see the lace shirt go, but Gerry makes up for it by simply throwing a kimono over his bare chest. He throws him a T-shirt, so Jon wears that and his boxers as they settle on the couch. Gerry is still wearing his jeans, but both their feet are bare as they tangle on the coffee table.

"I'm not sure, do you want to?" Gerry asks as he lights a cigarette and offers Jon one.

"What? Do I want to paint?" Jon's voice is taken aback. He takes the cigarette and lights it.

Gerry shrugs as if it's obvious. "Sure, you used to draw with me when we were younger."

"Yes, but…"

"But what, Jonathon? You're too old to paint now? Too proper and straight-laced to get charcoal under your nails? No more piercings, no more creativity?" Gerry sways into his shoulder, drawing smoke into his lungs and letting it out as he speaks.

"No, it's not that." Jon grouses back. Gerry hums derisively in return. "I just don't see the point of wasting your drawing paper when you can do that." Jon gestures wildly towards Gerry's most recently completed painting.

Gerry eyes it critically. It's the commission that he's been slogging over petulantly. It's large and impressively done, he can accept that, but he doesn't like it very much. He hates the subject and composition Peter Lukas has demanded and compensated by pouring all his best technique into it. It makes him sad and sullen to look at, and Gerry will be relieved when it's finally gone.

"For every painting like that I've ever done, Jon," Gerry spills all his affection into the name, and Jon can feel it, "I've done a thousand ridiculous sketches and colour studies. Art is time, and diligence and joy as much as it ever is masterpieces. You don't sit down one day and magically just know how to be a maestro."

Jon looks over and up at him with big green eyes. Gerry can't help but lean over and slide his hand into Jon's hair, pressing their lips together for a moment. "So Mr. Sims. Can I tempt you to make some art with me?"

***

What they create in those soft early morning hours can only generously be called art, even Gerry's efforts. But they laugh and kiss and somehow get covered in charcoal and acrylic paint. Gerry even allows Jon to choose the Spotify playlist. Slow piano music with nature sounds play softly in the background of their impromptu art party, reminding Gerry of nothing so much as Jon himself.

The dawn is just breaking through Gerry's massive bank of windows when he allows Jon to drag him off to bed, and they collapse together in the soft morning light.

***

Late the next morning, Martin lets himself into the flat and bounces down onto the bed between them, sending Saturn flying off in a huff.

"So, I heard there was a slumber party. I brought breakfast."

"Fuck off," Gerry slurs, but rather undermines his own point when he pulls Martin down and tucks himself around him. Jon does the same from the other side, and Martin finds himself in the middle of a very sleepy man sandwich.

Gerry seems to instantly fall back asleep, but Jon eventually drags himself to consciousness, even buried in Martin's neck. "What's time?"

"Almost ten," he responds, very cheerfully.

"WHAT-" Jon flies out of bed in a blind panic, desperately looking for his phone, which is dead when he finds it anyway. "I'm already so fucking late!"

Gerry groans.

"Relax Jon." Martin tries to soothe him but is hindered by the fact that Gerry is still clinging to him in a very enjoyable way. "Gerry, love, let me go. Jon is having a meltdown."

"How unusual," Gerry mutters very unsupportively, Jon manages to notice. He flops over onto his other side and attempts to bury himself in pillows instead of Martin.

"Jon, breathe." Swinging up to sit on the edge of the bed, Martin uses his best man-disaster steadying tone. Gerry has come to realize what that tone is, but he doesn't mention it to anyone. "It's Saturday."

Jon slumps and drops the pants he was desperately trying to wrangle himself into.

"It's Saturday?" He asks.

"It's Saturday," Gerry confirms from the pillow fort.

Jon glares at Martin in a very put upon way. Martin smiles at him brightly.

He turns and wanders off to the bathroom in an effort to collect himself. Martin resumes his spot in the middle of the bed, and drags Gerry towards him, tucking himself into his back.

"Hmmm. So much noise on a weekend." The goth mutters as he attempts to resettle himself in Martin's arms.

"I'll make it up to you later," Martin promises, pressing a kiss behind his ear.

"You let that happen on purpose, didn't you." It's not a question. "Just to see that look on his face."

"Yes," Martin says, chuckling into Gerry's pillow.

"Very good, sir."

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #gerard keay #also on ao3 #fic

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managedmischiefs · 5 years ago

Text

north//chapter one

here she is!! after the long wait, here is the first chapter of north! I hope you all like it. let me know what you think. more chapters to come soon🖤

also i dont have a tag list for this but if anyone wanted to be tagged in this fic then let me know and I’ll create a tag list

genre: fluff

pairing: spencer reid x female oc

warnings: very basic troupe that I’m sure some people are tired of lol but other than that, none!

word count: 3k

SPENCER

Being late to work is not something that I tend to enjoy. I hate it, in fact. I feel like I'm letting my team down if I'm ever late to round table meetings or if I miss a briefing. But these days, sleep is rare. And if I do sleep, it's not uncommon for me to sleep over the array of alarms I have.

Coffee is a must have for me at all points of the day. No sleep means exhaustion and exhaustion means my brain doesn't work as quickly as it could and that means we don't solve cases and not solving cases means more people die. I can't have more people die on my watch so I drink as much coffee as I can. But the coffee in the bullpen isn't always the best so if I ever have time, I stop at a cafe on my way to work. I take the extra five minutes to walk there before hopping on the metro.

I mumble off my coffee order to the tired looking barista and she scribbles down my name. I hand over a few stray bills to pay and get some change in return, tucking it in my pants pocket. I give a tight lipped smile to the barista before moving to a table in the corner of the cafe, pulling a book out of my messenger bag and starting to read, crossing one of my legs over the other. I don't look up while I wait for the barista to call out my name, not even when two people bump into each other in front of the door or a tourist asks someone else for directions. I just read my book and chew my lip, tapping my fingers against the hardcover.

"Spencer," I hear my name being called and finally allow myself attention to be lifted.

I stand quickly, tucking my book in my bag and closing the flap before heading back to the main counter. But the buckle of my bag gets caught on the button of my sleeve when I try to close my bag all the way. I pull at my sleeve, trying to get the buckle unlooped. But in this tussle with myself, I don't even realize that I'm still walking until I bump right into someone. I move my attention from my bag and catch the person's shoulders so I don't completely knock them over and make not only a fool of myself, but of them too.

"Oh my gosh," I say immediately, my eyes widening, "I'm so sorry,"

"It's okay, it's okay," the girl laughs, her hands squeezing my arms as she regains her balance, “didn’t even fall. You caught me. I didn’t even break a sweat!”

My eyes finally find the girl's face and I'm rendered absolutely speechless. I somehow notice everything about her right away and I memorize her beauty. Her eyes are a bright, beautiful shade of ocean blue and her eyelashes cast shadows over her perfectly pink cheeks. Her hair is wavy and blonde with brown roots, but there's a yellow and blue patterned scarf tied around the front of her head like a folded bandana with pieces pulled out to frame her face. Her nose is small and I can only liken it to a button. Her lips are full and plump and a pretty light pink color and her Cupid's Bow is one that Cupid himself should be jealous of. Both of her ears are full of different types of piercings, and her nose even has a hoop in her right nostril.

She's wearing a light blue knit sweater tucked into a tight denim skirt, along with a pair of short black boots with small heels on them. Her nails are painted white and her fingers are full of rings, each of them different styles and various shades of silver with yellow gems. I notice a tattoo on one of her fingers but she moves and I can't make out what it is. I wonder if she has more tattoos. I find two straps around her shoulders and realize she's wearing a leather backpack, one probably very similar to my own bag. The last thing I notice is the old fashioned camera hanging around her neck, resting just above the waistband of her skirt.

I've seen my fair share of pretty girls. I've seen girls that I wouldn't mind getting to know better. I've met girls that have caught my attention. I've even been in what I believed to be love. But what is this? If I thought I'd seen a beautiful girl before, I clearly hadn't met this girl before. She looks like an angel sent directly from heaven. She looks like she was crafted by God himself and put on this earth to grace mankind with her beauty. Is it fair for one woman to be this beautiful? Is it even possible? I didn’t think that one woman could possess such beauty.

What the hell is wrong with me? I can barely even breathe. I’m just staring at this gorgeous specimen, admiring her smile and trying to memorize the way her fingertips feel on my forearms. I quickly try to think of something to say, another apology for running into her, but I can barely even breathe when I stare at her, much less speak.

"Spencer," the barista calls out my name again, setting my cup down on the counter before walking away. Saved by the barista.

The girl smiles at me and her face lights up, only further illuminating her features. She's got two dimples on her cheeks, bringing out a childlike spirit in her that I pick up right away. "Um," she says with a laugh, "is that yours? You should probably grab it before someone else steals it,"

Okay, Spencer, breathe. You can do this. You’ve spoken to pretty girls before. Sure, it’s hard and it’s scary, but you can do it. Just say words. Preferably, coherent words. Preferably, maybe, a full sentence.

"Right," I finally force out, dropping my hands from her arms. I hadn't realized until now that I was still holding onto her and she was still holding onto me. I reach over and grab my steaming coffee, almost wincing at the heat under my fingertips.

The girl still hasn't moved when I turn back to her, but now she's fiddling with her camera. "Are you," I start to say before hesitating. Her head pops up and she smiles again, letting her camera fall against her stomach. I gulp, shuffling my feet against the floor as I attempt to speak a full sentence. "I didn't mean to bump into you like that,"

"Oh, it's totally fine," she waves her hand at me casually. "I wasn't paying attention either. No harm, no foul. Like I said, I didn’t even break a sweat,” The girl pushes her hair behind her ears and places her hands on her hips. With the confident way she speaks, I almost expect her to keep speaking, but she doesn’t. She just looks at me with the cutest smile, even baring her teeth, waiting for me to say something else.

So I clutch my cup of coffee and swallow thickly. “I-" I hesitate yet again, but when the girl's eyes scream for me to continue, I do. "What's your name?"

She opens her mouth to speak but before she can, another cup of coffee is placed on the counter. "Amelia," the barista announces before walking away.

Amelia laughs, taking a step over to grab her cup, which I immediately notice is tea and not coffee. "Took the words right out of my mouth,"

"Amelia," I repeat as if testing the way the word rolls off my tongue. It tastes sweet. "You heard already, but, um, I'm Spencer,"

"It's nice to meet you," Amelia holds her hand to shake mine, and the panic starts to set in. For a moment, I debate on actually just shaking her hand so I don’t seem like a total freak to this girl that I seem to have a massive crush on. But the prospect of shaking a total strangers hand is repulsive and when I find myself looking at her hand for more than two seconds, I’m starting to count up the amount of germs that would be present there and I have to force myself not to make a face.

So of course, while my hands get clammy and my heart rate speeds up, I do what I do best. I spit out a fact that Amelia didn't ask for. "On average we carry 3,200 bacteria from 150 different species on our hands,"

Amelia's fingers curl into her palm and she retracts her hand, looking down at her palm and smiling just a tiny bit. "You know, I don't blame you for not wanting to shake hands. It is kinda gross anyway,"

"Sorry," I blurt out immediately, still shuffling on my feet. "That was rude of me,"

"It's not rude," Amelia counters, sipping her tea without so much as grimacing at the inevitable heat. "Are you in a rush?" I glance down at my watch and see that I still have ten minutes until I should be getting on the train. I relay this information to her and watch as she smiles again. "Would you like to sit with me then?"

"Oh," my eyes widen slightly and I squeeze my coffee cup so hard that I think I might poke holes in the sides, "y-yeah, sure,"

"Cool," she breathes out, waving me on and leading me to a booth on the other side of the cafe. I'm far too anxious with this situation and by Amelia's beauty and her comfortability around me to even think about relaxing, or drinking my coffee, or taking my bag off from around my shoulder. I definitely can’t remember any of Morgan’s advice on how to chat up girls or any of the conversation starters I’ve memorized for social situations like this. My mind is completely empty, just when I need it to be full and plentiful. How lovely.

Amelia sits across from me and grins, and every time she does, I swear my heart skips a beat and another butterfly breaks through its cocoon in my stomach. "So where are you off to this morning, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Work," I answer, and then realize that's an incredibly vague answer. Amelia raises her eyebrows as she lounges back against the booth, clearly waiting for me to elaborate. "Uh, I work for the FBI, actually. More specifically, the BAU- the Behavioral Analysis Unit,"

"You're a profiler!" Amelia perks up again, sitting up straighter with a huge grin on her face. "That's super cool! My dad is a police officer, sheriff actually, back home in Texas and I'm pretty sure he's worked with the BAU before and he says you guys are awesome. You catch serial killers, right?"

I'm almost stunned by her reaction. Most people don't believe behavioral profiling works, and most people resist the practice, especially local police. But her acceptance of it is incredibly refreshing, and it's welcomed. Honestly, any type of excitement from this Amelia girl is welcomed. It’s a beautiful sight.

I can feel my cheeks turn bright red as I nod, still clutching my coffee cup. "Yeah, we do. And um, what about you?" I hate talking about myself so I change the subject. "Where are you off to?"

"I'm actually meeting a friend of mine to go shopping a few blocks over," Amelia gestures out the window. "But since we're talking about your job, I'll tell you about my way less cool job, which is an artist. I went to Carnegie Mellon and then moved here and I’ve been here ever since. My preference is canvas painting but I bring my camera around a lot, hence," she holds up the camera around her neck, "the camera now. I try to capture spontaneous moments for when I do exhibits and galleries and such,”

"I've always loved art. Never been talented at it, but I like it." I shrug nonchalantly and sip my coffee, trying to divert my eyeline down to the table, but when Amelia smiles at me, I can’t find it in me to break our eye contact.

Something about Amelia's smile brings me in. Every time she flashes her teeth, I feel myself sink further into my seat and I feel my head get fuzzier. I almost forget that I have to get to work in just a few minutes. But I don't want to go anymore. I want to stay here and keep talking to Amelia. I want her to keep going on and on about canvas paintings and her education at Carnegie Mellon, or even just tell me why she likes tea over coffee, if that’s even true. I don’t know anything about this girl but I want to.

"Nobody is technically good at art," Amelia responds. "Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses in the arts, everyone sees art differently, and that's okay. I'm sure you're not horrible, I'm sure you just haven't found your strength yet, Spencer," She enunciates my name with such beauty and grace that I almost ask her to say it again. I'd do anything to hear her say my name again.

"If-" I'm cut off when my phone rings in my pocket, so I lean over and fish it out. I read a text from Garcia that tells me we have a case, meaning we'll be briefing for a new case this morning. I sigh defeatedly, wishing I hadn't just gotten a text that usually piques my interest. Today, it makes my heart drop.

"You have to get to work?" I look back up at work to see yet another smile on Amelia's perfect face. "Go ahead, it's okay," I’m so used to seeing disappointed faces when this text comes in, not a smiling face. It’s odd, somewhat confusing.

I grab my coffee cup and stand as Amelia does the same. She holds her cup to her chest, looking down at her feet. "Will," I chew on the inside of my cheek when she looks up at me, ocean eyes wide with anticipation as I struggle with my words for the umpteenth time, "can I see you again? We barely got to talk and you-"

"Yeah," Amelia nods before I can even finish my sentence. "Can I give you my number?"

I have to hold myself back from jumping up and down in excitement. "Y-Yeah, sure, of course," I pull my phone out yet again as she does the same. She tells me her phone number slowly so I can get it down, but of course, it sticks in my brain immediately.

"Just text me," Amelia murmurs, looking over my shoulder at my phone where my shaky thumbs press against the buttons on my phone to type out- hi, it's Spencer. She waits until her phone rings and then she smiles at me. "Great, I've got it. Now, um, go. Don't let me be the reason you're late in helping people. You don't have to text me if you don't want to," she pauses for a moment, and I wonder what she's waiting for. Is she waiting for me to confirm or deny that statement? Is she waiting for anything at all? Is it an open-ended statement? Where have all my profiling skills gone? Forget profiling- where is my common sense? "But if you do wanna text me," I'm thankful when she starts talking again, "don't until after you've solved your case. Don't worry about me until you've saved lives. But like I said, if you don't wanna text me, you don't have to,"

My phone buzzes again and I can only imagine it's someone from the team asking me where I am, hurrying me along so we can get started on our briefing. I ignore it for now. "Well," I have to clear my throat to be able to speak again. I give Amelia a bashful smile holding up my phone for her to see, "I'll text you when I'm back home,"

Amelia blushes, her bottom lip being pulled between her teeth. She breathes out a tiny laugh, nodding. "I look forward to it, Spencer,"

I take a step towards the door and feel my body grow cold at the distance starting to increase between us. "I'll talk to you soon, Amelia,"

And with that, before I have it in me to take one more look at the angel standing in the corner cafe, I hurry out the front door. There's a dumb smile on my face as I rush down the stairs to the train platform, struggling to swipe my card and respond to Penelope's text at the same time, all while running to catch the train at the platform. I'm somehow successful at all of this and only manage to breathe once I'm inside the stuffy car. Amelia's face is stuck inside my head and I can't get it out, and I'm positive that I never want to.

///

"Reid? Reid!" My head pops up as Morgan forcefully says my name, catching my attention and bringing me out of my daydream.

When I look up at him, he's already staring up at me with his eyebrows raised, clearly expecting an answer out of me about something. I have no idea what that something is, but he’s wanting an answer about it. I clear my throat, placing my cup of terrible police station coffee on the table and running a hand over my face. "Sorry," I apologize half heartedly, "I was thinking,"

Morgan sits across from me at the table and folds his hands. "Case related?" I glance up at him before deciding to completely ignore him, standing and walking up to the board, returning to examining the geographical profile. "Reid, come on, we've been on the case three days. You've been distracted ever since you walked in for the briefing. You can talk to me," I keep ignoring him. I stare at the map in front of me. "Is something going on? Is it your mom?"

"My mom is fine," I spin around and cross my arms over my chest, ignoring the way my heart starts to speed up when Amelia’s face resurfaces in my brain. “Can we just solve this case so we can go home?”

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