#does nadia really have ears

[imjustfloatingaway]

doing lots of fanart of nadia has made me realize that there is very little reference available from the game for her ears

yes, her ears

and i know that’s probably fucking weird and i should just wing it

but i am here for ACCURACY

[freedomfireflies]

American Psycho*

Summary: Part of Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun, and One for the Money*

The one where you and your boss, Mr. Styles, have a little bit too much fun at the office Halloween party.

Can be read as standalone!

Word Count: 4.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“What…are you wearing?”

Mr. Styles glances down at his dark suit, brow cocked upward. “What does it look like?”

“Har,” you huff, although you’re smiling as you toss your makeup bag aside and move closer, “I thought you were putting on a costume. It’s a Halloween party, you’re supposed to dress up.”

“I am,” he argues. “I’m dressed as a guy that doesn’t want to fucking go.”

You laugh. “Come on, be fun for a change.”

“I’m the boss. I’m not supposed to be fun.”

“Well, they’re throwing this party for you,” you remind him. “Nadia’s been talking about it all week.”

“Right, instead of working. Which is not what I pay her to do.”

“Harry,” you repeat, shooting him a pointed look. “Seriously, why don’t you put on a little fake blood or something? You could go as Patrick Bateman!”

“And why would I do that when I could just not go at all?”

Pushing your pink, painted lips into a pout, you straighten up onto your tiptoes, and snake your arms around his neck. “Please, Sir? Just this once? For me?”

He begins to frown, but you feel his hands find your hips, expression stern but amused. “Peach…”

“I won’t ever ask for anything ever again,” you murmur, letting your mouth ghost atop his teasingly. “Swear. And I’ll behave all night. Be so good for you.”

He likes this idea, studying you carefully as his grip tightens. “Is that so?”

“Incredibly so. Just want to have fun with you, Sir.”

“I know,” he sighs, now cupping his palm against your cheek. “But you know the rule, honey. We can’t be seen together, not at the office.”

“I know,” you echo. “But we can still go. Even if we can’t exactly hold hands and dance in front of everybody, we can have fun. And I want that for you. You never take the stick out of your ass.”

Pinching your jaw playfully, he snorts. “And I thought you were gonna be good.”

“Once you agree, yeah. Until then, I make no promises.”

With a smirk, he grasps onto your chin, and tugs you to him. Smashing his lips to yours until you exhale gratefully and melt into his touch.

“Besides,” you mumble, “if you don’t come with me, then I’ll have to go in my slutty costume all by myself.”

Now you have his attention, his eyes narrowing sternly as he leans back to see you. “Oh, really?”

You nod. “Yup. Thought I’d use some of the lingerie you got me and go as a Playboy bunny.”

You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips – even through his nice dress shirt – and it makes you chuckle.

“Did you?” He doesn’t seem to have much else to offer, but you can see his walls beginning to crumble.

“Mhm. Equipped with a fuzzy little tail and ears.”

He swallows thickly before clearing his throat in an effort to appear nonchalant. “Well, let’s see it then.”

“Only if you agree to go.”

“Peach,” he warns, frowning again but you’re quick to shake your head.

“That’s my deal, Sir. Take it or leave it.”

And while you can tell he wants to be cross with you, he begins to smile, clearly amused with your negotiation tactics. Perhaps even a little proud.

“Fine,” he finally concedes, making you grin. “But I’m not putting on any makeup.”

“No, just a little fake blood,” you suggest, immediately rushing toward your bag to retrieve the bottle. “It won’t stain, and it washes right out.”

He eyes you carefully while you scurry across his apartment. “And I suppose you’d like me to carry an ax, too.”

“I mean…it would sell the part,” you tease. “But let’s start with the blood. Go wait in the bathroom and I’ll go change really quick.”

“No, don’t,” he calls, almost firmly before you can slip from the room. “Not yet.”

You hesitate. “Okay…why? What’s wrong?”

His tongue runs over his bottom lip while his head cocks deviously to the side. “Because if you do…then we aren’t ever leaving this apartment.”

And you can’t help but grin.

“Let me guess…Edward Cullen?”

Even from a few feet away, you can see Harry’s expression fall. “Funny.”

“What?” Nadia smiles. “Come on, you look just like him. The blood and the suit and everything. It’s good.”

“Great,” he grumbles but you can tell he’s amused.

She laughs. “Patrick Bateman is a good look for you, boss. I like it. Feels…fitting.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. But in a sexy, fun kind of way.”

He snorts before his eyes trail over to you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You wink.

The party is relaxed but enjoyable. Everyone is mingling, drinking, and dancing to the upbeat, spooky playlist. The usually boring, gray interior of the office floor is decorated with orange lights, carved pumpkins, and an array of ghostly décor. And nearly everyone came in costume, making it feel that much more like Halloween.

And despite the fact that you and Mr. Styles are forced to remain distant, you find yourself admiring him from across the room almost all evening. Happy that he seems to have finally begun to unwind, relax, and even enjoy himself. 

You watch as he engages in chatter with some of the other men in the finance department. You catch his eye while you’re grabbing a drink of the festive punch. And you feel him stare as you and Nadia head to the middle of the floor to dance to Somebody’s Watching Me.

Truth be told, you find it hard to be away from him after so many nights together. And even though it’s what you both agreed on, you feel a certain sort of longing for the handsome man in the corner of the room. 

However, neither of you are quite ready to tell the office you’re dating yet or deal with the potential fallout. At least not right now, when things are so new. Special. You suppose that could change in the future, but at least for tonight, he’s your dirty little secret.

So you resort to exchanging sneaky glances from time to time as you enjoy the party. Like now, when you catch his subtle but devious smile from behind the shadows while his hand casually slips into his suit jacket pocket. 

It’s a nonchalant motion. Relaxed enough that you barely catch on as you and Nadia continue swaying back and forth to the rhythm. Enjoying the heavy bass and eerie tune. 

And then, suddenly…you feel it. The first, gentle vibration from the toy sitting snugly inside your pussy. 

Your breath hitches.

And now you understand his look of amusement and the disappearance of his hand. He’s testing out the toy, warning you of his intentions even from the other side of the room. 

Just like he promised.

After all, that was his only condition. He’d dress up, he’d play nice, he’d be a good boss.

But if he wasn’t allowed to touch you all night, he at least wanted to have some fun. And remind you that he is still the one you belong to.

A reminder he gleefully gives you now, turning up the strength on the small bullet inside your cunt while he continues chatting with Alex from IT.

He’s not looking at you anymore – something you almost despise – but it’s obvious that he’s entertained. Fighting against a wry grin as he nods along in conversation. 

You, on the other hand, are beginning to feel the effects of the teasing. A sharp, pleasurable chill running down your legs while you falter in place and swallow a gasp.

Confused, Nadia eyes you carefully. “You okay?” she calls over the music, leaning closer. “You look a little woozy.”

“I’m…no, I’m…I’m good,” you manage to stammer, forcing a nod before you continue with your dance. “S’just hot in here, I guess.”

“God, you’re telling me,” she snorts, running a knuckle under her eye to catch some smeared makeup. “Last time I commit to the leather pants.”

Exhaling a laugh, you slowly pull your thighs together, hoping to lessen the vibrations currently traveling through your pussy. “Well, you look great.”

“Thanks,” she laughs before gesturing up and down at your costume. “What about you, hm? This is the sexiest corset I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks, it’s quite hard to breathe in,” you retort playfully, glancing over the pink silk on your torso. “This will also be the last time I commit to lingerie in public.”

“Fair enough. But that’s what Halloween is for, right? So you can be your true, slutty self just for one night.”

You chuckle again before slowly looking over to catch a glimpse of your sadistic boyfriend. However, you find that the smug bastard is now nowhere to be found. Having disappeared from the room, leaving you to struggle without him.

And then, you feel the strength increase.

It’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore the pleasure building in your stomach or the sharp rushes of ecstasy that echo across your clit. Which you suppose is his goal, although you aren’t sure why he’s so determined to make you fall apart under so many obvious eyes.

But you imagine that’s part of the fun. The idea that even though he can’t be with you, he can control your pleasure.

And you have to admit…you adore him for it.

With a shaky exhale, you nod your head toward the exit. “I’m, uh…I’m gonna go get some fresh air for a bit. I’ll be right back.”

Nadia nods. “No problem. I’ll be here.”

Leaving her with a smile, you begin to search for where he might have gone. You imagine his office, although you aren’t quite sure how you’re meant to meet him when so many people are watching.

Sure, more than half the room is drunk or otherwise occupied, but you don’t want to taunt fate. Especially after begging him to come in the first place.

But the painful pleasure in your cunt is beginning to worsen and you realize rather quickly that there’s only one solution.

Him.

So, you take a deep breath and slip into the adjoining hall, traveling through the darkness until you find his door.

You take a deep breath and knock twice, calling a soft but hopeful, “Mr. Styles? Are you in there?”

The sound of a lock turning nearly makes you shiver, and you can’t help but grin giddily as the door swings open, and a hand outstretches for you.

You’re yanked inside before you can even offer a greeting, tossed mercilessly toward his desk while he slams the door shut, and turns to face you.

And he’s stunning. So effortlessly beautiful, even with the blood dripping down his face. You wonder if you should be worried you find this so attractive, but you don’t exactly have it in you to care. Because the way his disheveled suit hugs his broad frame is sinfully delicious and the ruby droplets smeared across his jaw makes your cunt clench around the toy.

He strides toward you, drinking you in like he’s dying of thirst. Eyes dark and clouded with salacious intentions. 

He takes hold of your face between strong palms and crashes his mouth to yours. Hips pushing you back until you collide with the wooden table just behind you. Trapping you there while you gasp for air and tangle your fingers in his messy curls.

He groans in response, nipping at your bottom lip until you can’t breathe. “Gonna fucking kill me, Peach. Walking around in this slutty little costume. Almost came in my pants when you bent over.”

You smirk lazily as his kisses move down your neck. “Good, that was my plan.”

He makes another animalistic noise before shoving at your waist a bit harder. 

One hand disappears back into his pocket while the other travels up your fishnet stockings and settles against your cunt. The heel of his palm pressing against your covered clit as his harsh kisses dance beneath your ear.

“Shit, Har—” you gasp before you feel him tug your skin between his teeth. “Sir. Please…need…”

“I know,” he grunts, increasing the power of the toy until you’re both moaning. “Can feel it, Peach. Feels good, hm? Feels so fucking good. Bet you’re gonna cum in your pretty, little panties before I even touch you, yeah?”

You make another incoherent noise as his hand pushes the toy further into your pussy. The electric vibrations reverberate across his palm, doubling the sensation until your head just about drops back. Making the bunny ears slip to the ground, forgotten. 

“Good,” he hums, and you feel a bit of his fake blood smear across your neck. “S’a good girl, honey. Already close, aren’t you? What a pathetic little thing. Always fall apart so fast when I use a toy to play with you.”

You nod quickly in agreement. After all, he’s right. Vibrators have you coming faster than almost anything else – besides his cock.

And his mouth.

This is a fact he utilizes now, nudging the vibrator further into you until your legs begin to shake. You can feel it in your stomach, the first unraveling as it becomes stronger, and louder, and faster.

You fling an arm around his shoulders for stability before you’re disintegrating beneath him. Writhing and squirming and panting as he sees you through. 

“There you go,” he whispers, mouth brushing over yours. Wanting to taste your moans as you come down. “You’re all right, my love. Doing so good, hm? Gonna give me another?”

You nod faintly and he smirks before reaching beneath your corset top to find the decorative panties attached to your costume. 

He shoves them aside without pause before ripping the delicate fabric of the stockings almost fiercely. And far too easily for your liking.

He then retrieves the small toy from inside your cunt – smiling when he feels how soaked the silicone has become – before he’s dragging it up to your clit. Pressing the stimulating tip into your sensitive and swollen nerves as you suddenly gasp and go reeling.

“Shh,” he hushes, glancing over your face. “Can’t be too loud, hm? Y’know I love it when you scream for me, but we can’t let me hear, can we?”

“It’s…it’s Halloween,” you counter. “They’re used to screams.”

But Mr. Styles merely smirks. “Be that as it may…I don’t want to share your screams with anyone else. Not tonight.”

You feel your head grow fuzzier as he dips down to take your lips with his.

“Tonight…your screams belong to me,” he exhales against your tongue before he’s pressing the vibrator harder against your cunt.

You’re a mess. Soaking his hand, your outfit, the toy. Shaking almost pitifully while he finally releases the remote to press his palm to the back of your neck. Forcing your faces together until neither one of you can breathe without the other.

He was right, you are pathetic. So goddamn tragic as you begin to shake beneath the bullet. Already close to your second orgasm of the evening before he’s even had a chance to tease you.

But you don’t think he minds. He collects your orgasms like Pokémon cards. Wearing the number proudly until you’re nothing but a pile of limbs in his arms.

Two is only a start. And you know as long as he has this toy, he plans to force you into many more.

“Fucking shit, Peach,” he groans, forehead resting against yours as he glances down at where his hand is settled between your thighs. “Oh, that’s my girl. Always behave so well for me. Knew you would, yeah? Just like you promised.”

Again, you can do nothing but nod weakly. Still clinging to his body like a lifeline while he strokes you through the aftershocks.

“Okay,” he finally sighs, removing the toy and swiping his thumb across your clit. Collecting the arousal waiting for him just to bring it up to his lips. “Okay, honey, turn around. Bend over the desk for me.”

You whimper at the way he takes his body from you and from the very idea of what comes next. You hate that you won’t be able to see his face, but you adore this position. Especially because of the way he manhandles you.

Like now as his hands suddenly grasp onto your hips to fling you around so you’re facing his large, floor to ceiling windows.

The city is beautiful at night. Lit up like a prize, vast and seemingly endless. It’s one of your favorite things about his office and you smile to yourself as you take in the view.

But you aren’t afforded the chance to daydream long before he’s weaving his fingers through your roots and pushing you down until your chest meets his desk. Keeping you bent and pliable as he undoes his leather belt.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, squeezing your scalp as though to reward you. “Gonna fuck you quick. Can’t have Nadia come looking for you, can we?”

You whimper a response before you hear his pants fall to the floor, followed by a snapping of elastic as he pulls his cock from his briefs. 

“Let me have a look at you,” he grits, releasing your head so he can stand back and admire your dripping pussy. Pulling back the costume until your cunt is on display for his hungry eyes. “So fucking cute, Peach. S’all pretty and red. Just weeping for me, hm?”

“Sir—”

“Get all sensitive when I make you cum a lot, don’t you?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer. “Your puffy little clit gets all swollen and achy, hm?”

“Yes…yes, Sir, please—”

“Just one more for now, yeah? Just one. And then I’ll take you home and do it right.”

There’s a racing in your chest that can’t be contained. A sharp thrill that lives beneath your skin. He’s everything. His voice, his touch, his intentions. Even his mind. It’s wickedly beautiful and you adore him more than anything in the world.

You feel his fingers smooth through your folds. Teasing you for only a moment before you feel his cock come into play. Repeating the action of pressing and slipping through the wetness that awaits him.

“Can’t tell you what this costume does to me,” he whispers, groping your side with one hand. Preparing you. “You, and this tight, little fucking top, and these goddamn tights. Everybody was staring when you came in. Fucking everybody and I could’ve killed them.”

You moan something akin to his name, but he’s not listening. He’s lost on you. On your body and the way it looks, spread out before him.

“Even this fucking bunny tail,” he snorts, and you feel him pinch the fuzzy ball on your ass playfully. “Sits so pretty on you, y’know. Just like that plug I got you.”

“Shit,” you mumble, stomach clenching at the memory. “Har—”

His hand comes down in a sharp strike to your left ass cheek as you jolt. “Uh-uh. What’s my name?”

“Sir,” you correct, eyes squeezing shut. “Sir, please…please fuck me. Need you so bad—”

“Do you, hm?” He lands another spank before smoothing over the area with calmer motions.

You nod. “You look so good, Sir. Can’t…can’t stand it.”

Even without being able to see him, you can picture his smirk. “Do I?”

“Yes,” you exhale, almost groaning from the thought. “Covered in blood, wearing my favorite suit. Even the way you did your hair. S’been so hard to keep my hands off you tonight.”

You hear a dark, rather sadistic chuckle. “You like the blood, do you?”

You whimper. “Know I shouldn’t, but…it makes you look so fucking hot, Sir.”

Another harsh smack to your ass. Louder this time. “You know how I feel about your cussing, Peach.”

“M’sorry, Sir. But it’s true. You’re so fucking hot like this.”

He spanks you a fourth time but he’s still chuckling. “I’ll remember that,” he murmurs, kneading the tender flesh in his palm. “Never thought my precious peach would have such dirty fantasies.”

“I don’t, Sir. Only when it’s you.”

And he seems to like this idea, cursing in the back of his throat before nudging the tip of his cock against your clit. Making you both gasp until he finds your hole.

The first push in is delicious. Slow enough to prepare you and ease you open, but it’s everything. Scratching an itch that makes your brain turn to mush. Until you’re nearly collapsing onto his desk with anxious whimpers. 

“Good,” he breathes from behind you. “Good girl. That’s it, my love. Let me in, just like that. You all right?”

Another faint motion of your head. One that almost concerns him as he laces his fingers back through your roots.

“Peach,” he grunts. “Know I need your words. And you will give them to me when I ask for them. So what’s your color?”

“Green,” you whisper, nails curling into the wooden table beneath. “M’sorry, Sir, I’m green. Just feels so good. Wanted…to focus. To feel you.”

You hear him sigh before he’s pushing in a bit further. “Then fucking feel me.”

He sits inside your cunt like he was always meant to be there. Warm and thick and the perfect stretch. Making the stars return to your eyes as you begin to cry out his name.

However, he releases your scalp only to reach around and smack his palm against your lips. Keeping you quiet as he begins his thrusts.

“Uh-uh,” he warns. “Be a good little bunny and stay quiet.”

The pace is slow at first. Just enough to drive you absolutely mad and you imagine the scariest thing about tonight is how easily you’ve become such a blubbering mess.

“Like it when Daddy’s mean, don’t you?” he calls, returning both hands to your hips. “Like it when I treat you like you’re nothing.”

You can feel the sticky substance of the fake blood smearing across your hips. Probably staining your clothes – an obvious mark of his touch. A mark you’d proudly wear for the rest of your life if he’d let you.

“So fucking wet, honey,” he hisses. “S’just drowning my cock, isn’t it?”

You offer a garbled noise.

“Yeah. Just dripping down me, baby. Begging me to do something about it. Begging me to fucking take you.”

Your entire body is shaking. Along with the desk and an assortment of papers and pens that become scattered with every sharp drive of his hips. 

And you can hear it. Can hear the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your pussy and echoing between the walls of his large office. Wet, and lewd, and almost pornographic in nature. It’s obvious how needy you are for him. How unhinged your body has become. Soaking him exactly the way he loves as he fucks himself into you.

You can feel the sweat beading at your hairline. Can hear your pulse thumping in your ears – in time to the music in the other room and the thrusting of his hips. Leaving you to do nothing but lay across his desk and take it. Take him, exactly the way he wanted.

“How about another, hm?” He squeezes your sides harshly before one hand leaves you. “Gonna give me another, my love?”

Nodding tiredly, you allow your lashes to flutter shut. Focusing instead on the sound of his voice and the rough touch of his fingertips. You can feel it building. Can practically taste the beginnings of a third orgasm. You’re powerless to the pleasure. Undone by the man behind you as he readjusts his stance and angles his cock up.

It’s wicked. The immense, overwhelming, and unfathomable coursing of lust between each joint, and muscle, and fiber. You can’t escape it, can’t fight it. Can’t even understand it.

That’s what you needed. That spot, that attention. Over and over and over, and he’s so good at hitting it just right. Only to drag his cock back out and leave you empty and wilted.

“Relax,” he orders firmly before a familiar buzzing reverberates between your ears. “Relax, Peach. It’s okay, honey. Just want one more.”

The bullet is snaked around your hip before it’s pressing firmly to your clit. Forcing the sensitive and swollen bud to succumb to the vibrations and bring you that much closer.

You cry out for a second time, hands scratching down his desk, but he only curses through gritted teeth.

“There you go,” he exhales, and it’s thick. “S’okay, I’ve got you.”

He’s a mad man. Deranged and borderline animalistic with the way he demands your body bend to his will.

“Sir—” You suck in a large gasp for air, but it’s useless. “Har, please—”

His large palm spanks down on your ass as punishment, but he doesn’t comment on your slip.  “I know. Almost there. Know you’re almost there, can feel you clenching, baby. Keep going. Feels so fucking good—”

“Can’t…can’t—”

“Yes, you can. Know it hurts, but you can do it. You’ll do it, come on.”

And you want to, you do. More than anything, but it’s almost too good. You can’t think properly, can’t seem to relax long enough to let the orgasm overtake you.

Then, he’s wrangling you up. Pulling you until your back is pressed against his chest while he nudges his nose against your cheek. Inhaling you with a groan before he trails a few open-mouthed kisses along your neck. 

And in the reflection of his office windows, you see your silhouettes.

You, in your stunning Playboy costume, tits bouncing up out of the corset with each thrust, fake blood painted across your face and neck.

And him.

The devastatingly wonderful man behind you. Dressed in the sexiest suit you’ve ever seen, gelled curls gone askew, and that same blood dripping down almost every inch of him.

And he’s pounding his cock into your cunt like there’s no tomorrow. Trapping you against his body, your heaving chest in one hand, and the vibrating toy in the other. 

“So good, Peach,” he whispers. “So fucking good. Need you to cum, baby, please. Right now. Cum.”

And you do.

You don’t expect it. Have no time to prepare for it. Don’t even understand it’s happening until that white-hot explosion is dancing down your spine and expanding through your stomach. All the way into your toes as you whimper his name and wither in his touch. 

He does his best to hold you up while maintaining the pace he set. Faster and harder until he’s spilling inside of you with a moan. Mumbling your name while a hundred praises follow suit.

The aftershocks of this one seem to drag on longer than most. But you both indulge in the floaty feeling as you work to catch your breath. Syncopating to each other’s inhales until your heartbeats become one. 

“Did so good,” he sighs, nuzzling his cheek to yours. “God, so fucking good. Feel like heaven, you know that?”

You smile lazily and settle into his arms, allowing your weight to rest atop his. “Well…it’s easy when you look like this.”

He chuckles softly and kisses your temple. “You really do have a blood kink, hm?”

“No, I have a you-covered-in-blood kink. I don’t care when it’s anybody else.”

Now, he reaches out to slide his finger under your chin and turn your face to his. Staring at you for only a moment before he kisses you. Hard and yet filled with an emotion you just might recognize.

“Want you to do something for me, Peach,” he mumbles against your lips.

You nod quickly.

“Want you to fix your little panties…go down to my car…and wait for me.” 

You feel your breath hitch.

He smiles.

“We’ve got some videotapes to make.”

~ One for the Money Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hello, I'm requesting the mini HC nightmare scenario again, of the M6 having a nightmare of MC dying, please and thank you! 🫶🏽

The Arcana Mini-HCs: M6 have a nightmare of MC dying

Julian: wakes up hoarsely crying your name in a cold sweat, freezes when he sees you, then melts in relief when he does. instantly holding trembling fingers against your wrist to feel your pulse when you brush the hair out of his eyes, hesitates to ask you to hold him for comfort but will turn into a grateful, exhausted puddle when you do

Asra: oh. oh no. wakes up with a jolt and refuses to talk about it, instead asking shakily if they can hold you before burrowing with you under the covers and clinging to your chest. doesn't say much beyond "I forgot how bad it was" as he glues his ear to your heartbeat and tangles himself up with you. tells you the dream later if you ask

Nadia: startles upright with a small scream, needs a moment or two to register that you're in front of her and okay before she snaps out of the horror-induced daze. hesitant to fall asleep again, extends a no-pressure invite to you to join her for some tea and a midnight snack. either way, she's staying where she can see you breathing and happy

Muriel: already in a full-blown panic attack by the time he wakes up and the only thing to do at that point is help him ride it out. Inanna's quick to fetch a pouch of myrrh and lean against his back, but what helps him most is when you crawl into his lap and breathe with him, each grounding, mirrored breath a reminder that you're here and ok

Portia: almost flings herself out of bed with a gasp, immediately collapses into relieved tears when she sees you still next to her. tells you between sobs about her nightmare and only really starts to calm down when she can feel you holding her just as tightly. falls back asleep fairly quickly, but spends that time gently tracing your face

Lucio: if you weren't already awake from his sleep-shouting, he's shaking you awake with tears streaming down his cheeks just in case you really are dead, please wake up, please please please - oh good you're up, hold him until he feels better and listen to him while he tells you about his dream. keeps watch the rest of the night, just in case

[xaharadesert]

MC Who Sleeps Like The Dead - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: for another lovely anon! I just finished drawing one of my OCs to prepare for art fight, so I’m feeling a bit more inspired than usual! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes :) requests are open!

❤️Julian❤️

This is a man who runs on stress and caffeine, so he’s always up at ungodly hours of the night

Your ability to sleep through every instance of him stubbing his toe or bumping his head, or just generally swearing at whatever script or medical case he’s having trouble with at the moment is a blessing in his opinion

Of course, on the rare occasions that you manage to get him to bed, he’ll be as out of it as you are, if not more so

He flails in his sleep, and since it won’t be waking either of you up any time soon, there’s a good chance you’ll both end up with some mystery bruises

He’ll feel a bit bad about it in the morning, but it’s nothing some kisses can’t fix

🧡Portia🧡

Considering how tired she usually is by the end of the day, she’s a surprisingly light sleeper

This can be a problem for her when Pepi decides she wants to make biscuits and Portia’s the only potential victim around

So when you two start sleeping in the same bed, she sacrifices you to Pepi and makes sure she’s the one sleeping next to the wall

Pepi seems satisfied with this arrangement and leaves Portia alone, meaning she gets the sleep she needs and you get a cat to cuddle with while you’re unconscious

It’s also great for when she needs to get up early for work; she can make as much noise as she wants while she’s getting ready, and you’ll sleep right through it

💛Lucio💛

No no no, this will not do

Lucio operates under the assumption that if he’s awake, you’re also supposed to be awake

So if he’s having trouble sleeping while you’re snoozing away next to him, he will be trying his best to wake you up

His attempts will start with whispers and a couple gentle pokes, but when you don’t look like you’ll be getting up soon it quickly becomes less subtle

This man will fully kick you off the bed and onto the cold floor to get you up

If you sleep through that, he’s gonna get really close to your ear and scream

For the sake of everyone else nearby, you may need to learn to sleep less heavily

💚Muriel💚

He’s a light sleeper thanks to anxiety, and he doesn’t really understand how someone can sleep as deeply as you do

In the early days of your relationship he was a bit worried that there might be something wrong with you

Once he settles into the idea that you Will Not Be Woken Up before you’re good and ready, he takes full advantage of the extra alone time it gives him

It’s nice to just coexist with you and go about his day without worrying about waking you up

Once Inanna took a nap on you and he thought you may have actually suffocated under her, but turns out you were fine

He does not mention this to you when you wake up

💙Asra💙

While he certainly sleep often, he does not sleep heavily

If he’s sitting down, then he’s probably already at least 10% asleep

He doesn’t usually sleep in the traditional sense, and instead takes a few extended naps throughout the day

So when you’re getting your proper 8 hours, he may be laying awake beside you, gently rubbing your back and reading a book

He likes that his sleep schedule doesn’t affect yours, and that he gets to see you so peaceful and far from the stresses of life

💜Nadia💜

Most of her life is on a pretty tight schedule, so your sleep habits are not something she’s particularly fond of

If you’re asleep when she wakes up to begin her day, then she’s learned not to bother trying to wake you

She’ll kiss your temple and try to find some time to spend with you at the end of the day, but she misses the quiet moments you two could share while the rest of the world starts to wake up

Overall it’s not a hassle, just something she has to adapt to

Unless of course there’s an early morning event that you’re also supposed to attend with her

Then she’s trying to figure out the most gentle way to pry you from the hands of sleep (she may quite literally drag you out of the bed and start getting you ready before you wake up)

[brettsearpiercing]

Good Morning

Julian Devorak x reader fluff!!

baby's first upload omg,, this is from 2021

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　　 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

You feel a gentle heat on your face before you force yourself to open your eyes.

When you do, the first thing you see is the head of auburn hair attached to your boyfriend, who appears to be peacefully sleeping, judging from the snores coming from him.

You already knew what this morning would entail: cuddling up to him (which you did as soon as you could, mind you) and sleeping a little bit more before he woke up, then welcoming each other into a new day with all the affection you were able to give, getting up, stealing his shirt and making breakfast.

Step two didn’t last too long, as much as you were enjoying the feel of his breathing against your chest, you hear a very sleepy, and very soft

“are you awake?”

To which you reply with a simple “nope”, and a very obviously fake snore.

He chuckles softly, making you both shake lightly, and turns around to face you.

“Good morning, darling”

“Good morning, Ilya”

He always seems to melt when you call him that, and you keep that name only for times like this; where only happiness and adoration are present, and behind his cloudy grey eyes you can’t find a trace of the man he was when you met: a man who would not admit to his own value even when being (figuratively) held at gunpoint.

You continue; “how did you sleep, dearest?” and you beg that the answer is not the one you expect.

After a second comes his reply, “Wonderfully. There was music and a picnic, all our loved ones were there, I think it was someone’s birthday, a lovely dream. You were there, too, obviously”

“oh?” you inquire. The little times he has pleasant dreams, you want to let him talk about them as much as he’d like.

And so he does, explaining the very recent dream in surprising detail, and you listen to all of it while petting his hair and letting yourself kiss his head every now and then.

His very enthusiastic tale is interrupted however, by a rumbling sound coming from your stomach, and despite the trust and comfort you find in Ilya, you can’t help but to go red as he lets out a laugh, though it’s not judgy.

“I guess we’ll have to go get breakfast, huh? What time is it?” He turns away from you to grab his phone, but he doesn’t let go from your body at any time “oh. Brunch, not breakfast”

It’s your turn to laugh. He sounds so disappointed, it’s endearing. As if you didn’t find everything he did endearing.

“I suppose so...” you say, soft amusement in your voice. He starts getting up with a groan, turning around and sitting up on the bed, legs hanging from the mattress. As his feet touch the cold ground, he flinches, and you decide you better warm him up, so you hug him from behind, your barely clothed chest against his naked back, and he groans again.

“If you keep that up we’re gonna end up having to get dinner” he chuckles.

“Oh and you’d hate that, obviously” you tease. You know whatever affection you’ll give he’ll take, the same thing could be said for you, too.

“Most definitely. It would be true torture”

“You say that like you wouldn’t enjoy every second of it” You can see the tips of his ears turn red. You win this time.

You let go of his body with a sigh, and sit next to him as you let your legs hang from the bed yourself. The floor really is cold, but you power through, grabbing his shirt from the floor and putting it on. It has The Rowdy Raven’s logo on it, he always says it’s his most priced posession. He won it on a wet t-shirt contest at his favourite bar, which you didn’t have the pleasure of seeing. Bummer.

“You look very elegant in that!” while you were imagining twenty-somethings Julian with a wet shirt, he had gotten up and put on some slippers and pijama pants. He grabs you by the waist and kisses your cheek.”Are we going to one of Nadia’s parties?” you laugh a bit, if you ever showed up in this outfit to one of Nadia’s acclaimed parties, you wouldn’t be allowed in, as much as she likes the both of you. Maybe you’d be able to go to Asra and Muriel’s house, but even they’d think it’s a bit of a stretch.

“C’mon, let’s go make breakfast, I think there are some of Mazelinka’s scones left” he says. He gives you a peck on the lips and then leaves the room, you follow behind him.

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 15

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 1388

Masterlist

Warning!! You guys are going to love me for this one. Or hate me. Lol.

You are not the first woman I've had to kill for.

Candace had lots of male friends, and at one point or another, they all tended to get too close to her. But she liked it, and she was sad when they died. She blamed herself and asked stupid questions like: “why does everybody around me get hurt, Joe?”

You are stronger than Candace. You recognize how bad Jasper was, and you are not sad. You don't ask stupid questions, either. You just shrug after you tell me your coworker died and say “he kind of had a drug problem, so…”

And that is that.

You are not fighting with your grandparents anymore, but now you're fighting with your mom. When I come over, you're usually in a bad mood and no amount of me trying to make you feel better helps, because you don't want to feel better. You want to be angry.

“What?” you snap at me when I tell you to put on your jacket. “I don't want to go out, Joe.”

“C'mon,” I say, trying to stay calm. “We're going for a walk.”

I'm lucky you like to be told to do things, even when you're angry. Other women might have fought me, but you put on your jacket. You're basically steaming out of your ears, you're so mad, but you go with me.

You don't ask me where we're going when I hail us a cab. You're trying to stonewall me again, but this time I won't let you.

This time, I think I really have found something that might help.

Here's something I've learned about you, (Y/n): your emotions hit you like a freight train. When you're anxious, you don't know what to do with yourself, so you rearrange all your furniture. When you're happy, you sing and you dance. People like you usually have the most destructive anger, and you know that, so you turn it all inwards and shut people out.

Other people would try to blow off steam with sex, but you've convinced yourself that even after nearly three months of dating, it's still too soon for us. You told Grey about it a while ago, which is good because it means you're finally ready to tell the important people in your life that we're together (you also, finally, told Nadia).

But also, (Y/n), I'm going a little bit insane.

I have to blow off steam, too, you know?

There's a derelict building in Bed-Stuy. When walking past it, you might just assume that it's sitting empty. But no. It's owned by a friend of Mr. Mooney's, and it's a legitimate business.

You're suspicious when I try to lead you inside, but then a woman opens the door for us and you relax a little.

The woman greets us happily. She introduces herself as Janine and tells you she loves your top. She's thirty and bottle blond and wears a lot of pastels. I can tell you want to throttle her, but you thank her instead.

Janine leads us to a room which is set up just like a regular office, and hands you a baseball bat.

You look at me blankly.

“What is this, Joe?”

“Well,” I say, as Janine hands me a baseball bat as well. “It's a rage room.”

“A what?”

Maybe they don't have rage rooms in The Netherlands, or maybe you've just never been to one.

“A rage room,” I repeat. “It's a place where you can go to destroy things.”

“You guys have an hour,” Janine tells me happily, and then she leaves.

We're alone and you're still not getting it. You follow me into the room, but you don't know what to do with yourself. I'm going to have to get this thing started.

I lift the baseball bat in my hands, feeling its heft. It's not one of those cheap plastic ones, but real, solid wood like the one I keep under the counter at Mooney's. You could really hurt someone with this.

I throw all my weight as I swing the bat. You gasp when the desk lamp shatters.

“Like that,” I say.

I can see the wheels inside your brain turning. I'd love to know what you're thinking right now. You've never seen me do anything violent, so maybe you're trying to process that. Or maybe you're just trying to process the fact that I expect you to destroy things.

You lift the bat. You look at it like it's an alien.

Then, you swing it, and the analog computer screen crashes to the floor.

You like it.

You are smiling and the desk is next. You tell me to help you and we go at it together, hitting the cheap wooden furniture until it splits right down the middle. I throw a chair at the wall, you swing at the corner table. We both leave the bookcase in the corner alone, though. We would never destroy books. We're better than that.

You look beautiful when you're violent.

Your hair is flying around and at some point, you take off your jacket. There is a drop of sweat running down your collarbone until it disappears into your tank top, right between your boobs. There is even some dirt on your forehead, I don't know where it came from.

Then, you're done and you see me watching you. You drop the baseball bat and you rush me. For a moment, I think you might even hit me. My head is still in that place. But of course you don't.

You put your hands on my cheeks and I wrap my arms around your waist and drop my bat, too, and it clatters to the floor loudly.

Did I tell you you're a fast learner, (Y/n)? You are so good at kissing, now. You know exactly what I like and I know exactly what you like. When we kiss, it's electric, and that's not just because we're both sweaty and out of breath and ready to blow off even more steam.

Your hips are pressed into mine and you can tell I'm hard, but you don't pull away from me. You let me push you against the wall and kiss and bite your neck. You moan. You're not sure what to do with your hands so you grab my shoulders, and you bring your leg up so it's rubbing me through my jeans.

I really think you might let me fuck you right here, in this room that we just laid waste to together. But then, the worst thing that has ever happened to any man ever, happens to me.

A flash of lightning. I groan. I hide my face against your neck in embarrassment.

You are quiet. You're not sure what just happened.

“Did you just…?”

Of course I just. It's been so long, (Y/n). I should have known this would happen the second you put your hands on me.

“Joe?”

“I'm sorry,” I say.

I'm not sorry. This is kind of your fault. But what else do I say when I just came in my jeans like a high school boy?

You take a deep breath. Then, you laugh.

You're laughing at me. I've ruined everything.

“Oh, my God,” you say. “I've never made a guy come before.”

You're not laughing at me. You're laughing at yourself - at the power you have over me. I pull away from you and you're smiling, and then you kiss me again. Slow and sweet this time.

“Next time,” you whisper, “you're going to be inside me when that happens.”

I could get hard again right now. I really could.

But our hour is almost up. I don't want Janine to come in here and find us fucking against the wall. And, really, now that I'm thinking more clearly… I don't want our first time together to be like this. I don't want your first time to be like this.

“Can't wait,” I say.

The cab ride back to your apartment, and then mine, is the most uncomfortable I've ever been. I'm glad when I can change out of my dirty clothes. But it was worth it because You've never made a guy come before.

I was your first. I will be your first.

And it will be soon.

[theintrovertbean]

Remember when I posted this? This is what I meant when I said I was writing something about high heels.

Summary: Nadia has beautiful legs and y/n wholeheartedly agrees.

This isn't smut, but there's some naughtiness implied. So, just to be safe, minors DNI.

Linguistics classes are boring, so I spend them writing about Nadia instead 🤗 That's just what I do, write adult content when I should be paying attention to my seminars. I will keep doing it.

I wrote like half of this at uni instead of listening to whatever the fuck that class was, and my friend sitting next to me was like o.o when they looked at my phone. But the bitch is back (no, not really, I'm just blessing you with a crumb of content before I retreat to my hiding again.) Anyway, I thought I'd give myself a break and write for the sake of writing about something that doesn't give me anxiety, and what's better than Nadia's legs to ease my stress? Damn, that rhymes. Don't mind my little vent, idk why I'm even writing this but it's almost 3 am and I no longer care.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it. Have a good one, simps!

Heeled Seduction (Nadia x Reader)

She's a strong, smart woman. She can take care of herself and she doesn't need help. But when I watch her undress and then put on her extravagant gown for the upcoming event, I can't help but notice her high heels waiting for her to put them on. I remind myself that no, she does not need help with something so trivial, but the more I entertain the thought, the more tempting it becomes.

She sits down on a plush chair and pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear. My heart melts at the sight of her, but if I want to do this, then this is my chance.

"Nadia," I call out her name. It comes naturally to me at this point as she's had me cry out her name in pleasure countless times.

She looks at me with curiosity in her intense gaze. "Yes, love?"

I don't answer. I simply walk toward her and then lower myself onto one knee in front of her. My Countess raises an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling up into one of those cheeky smiles that I love so much. She watches me with interest, awaiting my next move.

I gently lift her foot and guide it into the shoe, my fingers brushing against her delicate skin and I can feel her shiver beneath my touch. Having such an effect on the embodiment of perfection, on a goddess like her, fills me with pride.

"Oh my," She begins with a smile. "How attentive of you, my darling. Allow me to assist you."

Then she grabs a fistful of her dress, slowly, teasingly lifting it higher to give me better access. She reveals her strong thigh, only to my eyes, and I have to gulp. Inch by inch, she tortures me with her beauty. I'm quite certain she knows that she doesn't have to lift it so high. My sweet, loving Nadia—always teasing me at every chance she gets.

Encouraged by her seduction, I put my hand on her other leg, fingers caressing and massaging her strong calf gently. "Have I ever told you," I lean forward, pressing a kiss onto her skin right under her knee. "how beautiful your legs are?"

"Hm, I don't think you have," My Countess answers, the tone of her voice warm and low and the smile on her face playful but loving. "Why don't you elaborate?"

"Well, your skin is so soft here," I say and lift her leg, putting it over my shoulder. "I love how it feels against my mouth. So delicate and smooth." When I brush my lips against her thigh and my breath caresses her, I can see her clutching the armrest just a little tighter. "But your legs are also very strong." I rest my hand on the side of her thigh, drawing circles into it with my thumb. "Perfect for..." I drag my lips across her skin, going higher and higher until I can feel the heat radiating from her core. "Smothering."

My love chuckles and I look up to see her cheeks colored with a blush. "Aah, yes, they'd look so beautiful around your head."

"They certainly would," I smirk against her inner thigh and I'm certain she wants nothing more than for me to continue. "But!" I exclaim and put her leg down, shifting my body away from hers. "We have a party to attend. The rest can wait."

I swear I can hear her mutter a small damn you, y/n under her breath while I quickly put on her other high heel. When I finish, I immediately feel her fingers grasping my chin, guiding me to look up at her. "When it is done, I hope you intend to use that teasing, wicked mouth of yours for something more pleasurable," She whispers to me, and I can already feel my cheeks burning under her gaze. Here, at the feet of my mistress, my countess, my love, I feel a sense of belonging.

"If that's what milady wishes."

[memphisnovels]

Evermore

Chapter 33. Lean on me

Previous chapter

Masterlist

Hiya, sorry for the delay I've been working on this chapter alongside a few others as things are beginning to ramp up! This marks the official beginning of Evermore Part 2, which will largely encompass the events of the Civil War movie. I'm very excited for you to read it and as always I hope you enjoy!! <3

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: Tony and Nadia bonding time, arguing, sad Nads, more memories, Secretary Ross

I couldn’t though. Couldn’t bring myself to hate him. I didn’t need days of soul searching to figure that out. It was so obvious that even I couldn’t deny it.

“I don’t mean to toot my own horn or anything, but I chose a hell of a piece of land to build this compound.” Tony’s voice filled my ears. I didn’t look up at him, having heard him stomping over branches ungracefully for the last minute. “Though, it’s not the most comfortable place to camp out overnight.”

“Just go, Tony.” I muttered. Movement roused my attention, I was surprised he’d given in so easily. However, instead ofturning and heading back in the direction of the compound he’d settled on the ground beside me. He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off before he had the chance. “No thank you.”

He sighed, but closed his mouth, looking out at the water instead. There was silence for a long while before he inevitably became unable to help himself. “None of us knew.”

“I know.”

He tilted his head from side to side. “It does seem like it was all from before… before you two knew each other.”

“I know.”

“So, are you going to hear him out?”

A beat of silence passed and again that stinging was back in my eyes. I clenched my hands into fists, focusing on the ripple across the waters surface. “I did.”

He hummed. “Right. Of course, it’s just that I’m not sure you really gave him enough time.” I narrowed my eyes at him, unsure when exactly he’d become so confident saying things like that to me. Although, I suppose maybe he’d always felt able to call me out. The day we’d met came to mind.

“Time for what, to come up with a lie?”

“Or to gather his thoughts.”

I shut my eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before answering. “It’s not… It isn’t what he did, Tony. I don’t care that he was communicating with Hydra before we knew each other. I mean, I do care about it, but that isn’t what’s getting to me.” My hand threaded through my hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. “The problem is that he lied about it. For all this time.”

Tony tilted his head side to side for a moment and I knew what he was going to say before the words even left his lips. “He didn’t really lie it was more an omission of truth.” The look I gave him had him backtracking immediately. “Right. It’s the same thing. I know. Sorry kid, I’m not exactly good at the whole comforting thing.”

“Why did you even come out here?”

He sighed exasperatedly, looking out at the still water before us. “Because I knew you were out here.”

I didn’t respond for quite some time and when I did it was quiet, barely a mumble. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I’m definitely not an expert here, but talking to him might be a good place to start.”

 …

The sound of pen on paper filled the otherwise quiet room. I lounged back in the armchair across from Dr. Norris, legs crisscrossed beneath me.

“You mentioned recalling the smell of salt in one of our sessions, I’d like to revisit that.”

“Why does that matter?”

He smiled a little at that. “Focusing on distinctive smells and sounds can be a good way to orient a given memory, it can be helpful to understand where you were when something occurred.” I was unconvinced but his tactics had proved effective previously, so I eventually nodded and closed my eyes, allowing him to walk me back through the recollection. He recounted to me the details I’d told him previously, setting the scene. “It was a warm day, you could feel the sun on your skin, the breeze in your hair. Are you outside, or is it from a window?”

I could feel it all as if it were happening to me right now, though there were still frayed edges that were unclear to me. “I don’t know. I think so, there is nothing blocking the sun, there are no walls.” The cheeky smile that had become familiar to me flashed through my mind, soft brown eyes gazing down at me. I tried hard to focus on my surroundings rather than the company. “I can still smell the salt, its strong but I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“You said you were dancing, is there music playing?”

I could hear it, faintly, just over the clicking of my shoes against the concrete. The velvety hum of rhythm and blues.

Lean on me

When you’re not strong, I’ll be your friend

I’ll help you carry on…

When I looked down, I saw small feet in sparkly champagne-colored sandals and larger black leather shoes.

The boy taunted me about eating too much cake, how it’d make me sick. I thought about the cake, the way it had tasted, the color of the frosting.

It was crisp white with intricate piping along the sides. I recalled gazing up at the three-tiered masterpiece, on top of the third tier sat an ornament. The fork in my hand was golden as I stabbed at the buttery yellow interior; vanilla and lemon danced across my tastebuds. When I focused so hard it felt as though my hair might fall out the ornament came into focus, it was small and porcelain, a bride and groom standing side by side. It was a wedding cake.

That realization seemed to trigger a series of other memories. The beautiful white dress, puffy like a pastry. I remembered the way the way the tulle felt between my fingers and dark hair encased by a veil that glimmered under the sunlight. Then it was the softness of rose petals, swirling in a downward spiral as I dropped them. Concrete beneath my shoes as I wandered down the long pathway between rows of seats. A hand reached out toward me at the end of the aisle, manicured fingers and a shining silver bracelet the first thing I saw. Then it was the blonde hair as I sat beside the woman, her perfume startlingly familiar. The powdery floral scent that had drifted into so many of my dreams.

“Do you smell the salt where you are now?” Dr. Norris asked.

I shook my head, silence sitting heavily between us after that.

I couldn’t get that fragrance out of my head for the rest of the day. Vanilla, jasmine, citrus, roses. It was the perfect combination of each of those things plus others I couldn’t pin down.

I’d been a flower girl. It felt like another lifetime.

Such a simple concept seemed so incomprehensible. It was jarring to think of the softness, the smell of roses and the silky white dresses compared to what had become of me after. There was a time when I’d felt tulle brush over my fingertips and that wasn’t startling to me then, yet it was the cold hard metal on guns and knives that I became used to so quickly. That childhood was so clear in my mind, so conceivable. How could both things be true.

When the sun had well and truly set and most of the others were either eating dinner or had retired for the evening, I surfaced from the shadows I’d been clinging to while avoiding inevitable conversations. The training room was silent, long since abandoned by this hour.

I separated my ponytail in two, pulling hard to tighten it. My gaze narrowed in on the punching bag before me as I stretched my neck back and forth. The first crack of my fist against the bag sent a shot of adrenaline through me, my focus locked into what I was doing until there was nothing else.

When I was training it was like there were no thoughts but the movement of my limbs; the raw emotions that pumped through me. I used to always believe that when I was sparring, I was able to turn off my emotions, to become numb. It took me a long time to realize that really, I was just good at channeling what I was feeling into the power behind each punch. I hit the bag again and again, making my way around it, jab, jab, kick. When it didn’t feel like enough to drain the thoughts from my mind I hit harder. My heart thumped heavily against my chest, and I felt the sheen of perspiration across my forehead and chest but still I punched and punched.

“Jesus, what’d the bag do to you.” Natasha’s voice pulled me from my haze and when I pulled back, I was panting heavily, and a dull ache had begun in my shoulders. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. She grabbed the boxing pads and attached them to her hand. “Maybe lay off the poor bag for a minute and pick on someone your own size.”

I rolled my eyes at her, tightening the wraps on my hands and moving toward her. She held her hands up and for me to hit. When I’d caught my breath I jabbed her right glove once, then again harder before hitting the left one. I continued this pattern, finding my rhythm quickly. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I gritted out, throwing a particularly hard punch.

Natasha rose an eyebrow at me. “Well, judging by the tone and how hard you’re hitting right now, I’m guessing things remain unresolved?” I didn’t respond verbally, only continuing to jab again and again. “That would also explain why Pietro’s been so unusually quiet.”

“He’s a lot better at keeping silent than you’d think.”

I could tell by the look on her face that she was dying to meddle. “I think he’s quiet because he’s afraid.”

Her words had me veering back. I yanked at the wraps on my hands. “Because I’m so frightening right? Awful, cold, calculated Nadia?” Natasha’s eyebrows knitted together at my words but now all I was thinking about were the words I’d read on that page in Pietro’s folder. That is what he’d written about me, what he’d said to Hydra. Evidently, I wasn’t so good at hiding this from her.

Her eyes softened, the expression she held turned my stomach. “No, Nadia, of course not. I think he’s probably afraid of losing you.” The stinging was back in my eyes, there was so much on my mind, and I hated this weak feeling that coursed through my veins, and it was so fucking hot in this room I felt like I was suffocating.

“I told you I don’t want to talk about it.” My feet were moving before any words had the chance to leave her lips. I pushed through the doors of the training room, rushing down the hall toward my bedroom. Walking head down in such a hurry was an obvious oversight, another thing I should have seen coming. I gasped as my chest collided with another. Warm hands wrapped around my upper arms, steadying me. The second my eyes met his, I looked away, unable to stomach the look that had lived there for days now. I shoved past him only to be stopped by Steve, standing before us with a look that was equal parts discomfort and concern.

“Oh good, you’re both here.” He glanced between us, obviously sensing the tension sitting heavy in the air. “I just got a call from Secretary Ross’ assistant. He’s coming out to talk with the whole team at the end of next week.”

Just the mention of his name had me fighting a wince. If he was coming all the way out here it couldn’t be good. The reasoning for his last visit came to mind, I knew he was coming to talk to us about the mess in Lagos. It’d been all over the new this past month; inescapable.

“Oh goody, I can hardly contain my enthusiasm.” I muttered, walking away from both men. Not before stealing a single glance at Pietro to catch his expression to the news. He was less able to hide his wince.

It sickened me, the way my hand twitched toward him. The urge to comfort him seemed to clamp down on my heart until the pain promised to bring me to tears.

The next week and a half passed quickly, every day I’d get up before the sun and work out my complicated feelings in the training room. Then I’d eat breakfast before everyone else and spend the rest of the day finding new ways to avoid sympathetic gazes and the incessant questions. That was unbearable, but most of all I was avoiding having to look at Pietro’s face, the guilt that I knew would be written all over him, the ache in me that resounded every time I thought of what he was guilty of. The words he’d written in those notes echoed through my mind. I wondered if that was his only omission. I wondered what exactly had made him stop working with them. I wondered at what points he’d been telling the truth.

When Friday finally came around, I was so on edge that even hitting the punching bag until my fists went numb didn’t do the trick. The memory of that perfume still clung to me, stubborn, unyielding. It was still clouding my mind as I paced the corridor waiting for the familiar silver-haired man to emerge. The moment he did I pressed my palm against his shoulder, pushing him toward the sitting room. He put up no fight, going easily. When the doors were closed behind us, I paused, facing away from him.

“That is what you were so upset about, isn’t it?” I turned then. Pietro closed his eyes tightly, shoulders sagging. The breath I exhaled felt like glass. “Say it.”

“Yes.” He ran a hand through his hair, and I dropped down into one of the armchairs. “Nadia, I wanted to tell you so badly, I just didn’t know how. It was eating me alive. At first, it was just the guilt of being dishonest with you. But then, when I found out what Hydra did to you when you were just a child and then how they tortured you in Morrocco. It made me sick to think I’d ever helped them get anywhere near you.”

My head dropped down into my hands, eyes stinging. “Why didn’t you just tell me when you first arrived?” It would have been so much easier that way, all of this would’ve been much simpler. I could have lumped it in with everything else, it would have absolved him, made him trustworthy to me because at least he’d owned his mistakes. Now, over a year later, it was an entirely separate entity. It didn’t feel like some piece of the past, it felt so fresh.

“I’m sorry.”

“You mentioned that.”

He moved swiftly, kneeling on the ground before me, one hand over my knee while the other took ahold of mine. “I should have told you; I know I fucked up. Please, just… please don’t hate me.”

There was silence between us for a long while. “I don’t hate you, Pietro.” I finally met his eyes. “Of course I don’t. It’s not about that, it’s about trust, you lied to me-” My voice broke and the stinging in my eyes became unbearable. I couldn’t swallow it down this time, I felt tears gathering along my waterline. “You have lied to me about this every day since I’ve known you.” I clenched my hand into a fist, focusing on the pain of my nails digging into my palm.

Pietro’s face fell so completely that I felt my heart crack yet again. It was impossible to look at him when he looked so devastated. His eyes glistened like mine, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away, I scanned his face for any sign of familiarity, of the Pietro I’ve come to know. The worst part was that I found it, all over him was the man that had stepped into the darkness with me, broken down my walls and never given up, just like he’d promised.

“I will tell you anything you want to know. I will tell you everything, I swear, just please, please… believe me, the last time I sent anything to Hydra was after we fought in the shipyard. Never again after that, and it was never ever a factor in my wanting to be with you.” His hand smoothed over the flesh of my check.

When I looked into his eyes, letting my head rest against the warmth of his palm I could almost convince myself that nothing had changed. It was still him, still Pietro, my Pietro. It was still him and this didn’t change the way I felt, it didn’t negate every moment we’d shared since he’d come to the compound. Everything was not lost just because of this one treacherous secret. I clung to every memory that popped into my mind, every smile he’d caused, every flush, all the laughter and banter, the arguments and that white-hot ache I’d felt when I thought I might have ruined everything between us in Amsterdam.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed into the room, saving me from having to force a response over the lump in my throat. “Mr. Stark has arrived accompanied by Secretary Ross; Captain Rogers has asked that everyone convene in the conference room.”

I stood then, clearing my throat and quickly wiping my eyes. Pietro watched me carefully, but I just stepped past him, making my way towards the door. I paused, however, hand hovering over the handle. “Let’s just get through this, then we will talk.” With that I left the room.

I sat between Natasha and Steve at the table, listening to Secretary Ross speak about his heart attack and how it allowed him to gain perspective. The nature of this meeting was not lost on me, nor any of the others, though, the specific consequences for what had occurred loomed over us all like an impending storm. I glanced at Pietro across the table, he sat beside Wanda, hands in his lap, studying the tiniest imperfection in the glossy wooden table. The words spoken by the secretary became a low hum of white noise as I gathered my thoughts about everything that had come to light. Where to go from here, how to proceed.

The word dangerous brought my attention back to the conversation at hand. Ross moved back toward the screen as the pixels joined to show a video.

“New York.” He said as the footage revealed Hulk smashing through building after building. “Washington, D.C.” The S.H.I.E.L.D. mother ship was smashed into smithereens, screams ringing through the screen. “Sokovia.” As soon as that word left his mouth my eyes were on Pietro and Wanda. The sound of screaming filled my ears yet again, the footage showing the crumbling island being lifted upward, buildings falling and people attempting to flee. “Lagos.” The footage I’d seen on the news played out, smoke and stretchers, civilians crying and more screaming alongside the sound of sirens. Pietro’s jaw tightened and his shoulders sagged further, he could not even look at Wanda who’d finally torn her eyes away from the screen. I glanced toward Steve, furrowing my eyebrows momentarily as a silent plea for him to put a stop to this.

“Okay that’s enough.”

Secretary Ross turned off the video, bracing his hands behind his back as he turned toward us once more. “For the past four years you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate, but I think we have a solution.” He slid a hefty-looking, bound booklet onto the table toward Wanda. She pushed them toward Rhoadey as Ross circled the table, discussing the end to our privatization. When the booklet moved to Natasha I placed a hand over it, pulling it a little closer for inspection.

The Sokovia Accords.

I skimmed through the pages as he continued, Rhoadey speaking up as well. It all blurred together as I read about the plans for ‘supervision’ of the Avengers. If this was agreed on it would mean we were only able to intervene in conflict if it was deemed necessary by the United Nations. I closed the book, pushing it down toward Steve as I mulled over the words I’d read.

“Talk it over.” He spoke with finality, beginning toward the door of the conference room.

I swallowed heavily.

“And if the decision we come to isn’t the one you want?” I asked, glancing up at Ross.

He lingered for a moment, turning back slightly to address me. “Then you retire.”

I nodded, utterly unsurprised by this.

When Ross left we all moved to one of the compound’s sitting rooms to discuss our respective feelings on how to proceed. It took no time at all for Sam and Rhoadey to begin arguing about the matter, Sam disagreeing with the accords while Rhoadey vehemently defended Ross. I glanced at Tony who lounged back in an armchair, hand covering his eyes.

Pietro had been completely silent since the meeting with Ross, not so much as uttering a word to any of us. He stood behind the couch where Natasha and I were seated, pacing the floor, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“I have an equation.” Vision spoke up from his spot beside Wanda, all eyes turning to him and finally Pietro’s pacing stopped, instead he moved to hold onto the back of the couch, looming over it. Sam muttered some sarcastic remark, but I kept my eyes on the red man. “In the 8 years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. During the same period the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”

Steve looked up at vision over the edge of the accords he held in his hands. “Are you saying it’s our fault?”

“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge, challenge incites conflict and conflict breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom.” Rhoadey added, looking toward Sam.

Tony sighed heavily causing my eyes to shift back to him. “You’re uncharacteristically tolerable today.”

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind.” Steve retorted.

“Boy, you know me so well.” Tony pushed himself up from the couch. Walking toward the kitchen. “Actually, I’m nursing an electro-magnetic headache. That’s what’s going on, Cap, it’s just pain. It’s discomfort.” The tone he took had me wondering if maybe Steve was right, but something significant must have happened to have Tony agreeing with Secretary Ross. “Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal?” He asked, looking back at us accusingly. “Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” His deflections didn’t fool me. It was evident something was eating him. He pulled out his phone, projecting the image of a boy who looked to be in his late teens or perhaps early twenties. “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer by the way, he’s a great kid, computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA… had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where? Sokovia.” I looked to Pietro then, his knuckled had turned white from his grip on the seat. I didn’t think about the movement of my hand, or the implication of it, I just reached out for him, hand falling over his and squeezing. “He wanted to make a difference; I suppose. We won’t know because we dropped a building on his while we were kicking ass.” Pietro moved to drop down into the seat beside me. “There is no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check and whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, we’re boundary-less, we are no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, someone dies on your watch. You don’t give up.” Steve intervened.

Tony took a step forward. “Who said we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

I saw his point; the trouble was I also agreed with Tony. The room quickly opened back up to a heated discussion, with Rhoadey and Tony on the same side while Steve adamantly disagreed. I met Natasha’s eyes, a silent sentiment shared between us then, this was really bad.

“Maybe Tony’s right.” Nat spoke up, Sam and Steve’s heads whipped toward her. “If we have one hand on the wheel we cant still steer, if we take it off.”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam questioned.

I snickered quietly but was quick to defend her. “She’s just reading the terrain. We had all made some very public mistakes, we need to win their trust back.”

Natasha smiled at me but the look on Pietro’s face read surprise.

It was Tony who spoke next. “Focus up. I’m sorry, did I just mishear you both or did you agree with me?”

 I rolled my eyes heavily, Natasha and I both muttering our regrets at giving him satisfaction.

“You can’t retract it now! Thank you both. Okay, case closed; I win.” Tony gloated.

The Accords booklet slapped against the glass table as Steve stood, tossing it down. “I have to go.” His voice was low, betraying something private that was causing him pain.

While the others returned to their discussions, I caught Pietro’s eye, nodding toward the door before standing from the couch. When we had both exited the sitting room I turned back to him, my mind brimming with a million different thoughts. “It is going to be okay.” I assured him, recognizing the expression on his face. However, my words had his look changing slightly.

He watched me intently for a moment, gesturing between us with one hand. “What about us? Is this going to be okay?”

I wrung my fingers together, dropping my eyes down to look at the floor. The look on his face has an array of different emotions bathing me. I knew that we would only ever be okay if I could move past what he had done, if I could let go of the shades of distrust that had begun to darken the moments we shared. This was the only path forward, what we had could never survive if I let this fester. I also knew there was only one way for me to even begin to let it go.

“You need to tell me everything.”

[angeart]

I mean, its a lil bit dramatic xD But the one you guys say is loud and may have been insensitive before being the one to step up? I like (which also yes I wanna ask about that too its me I wanna know all the things)

-🎀

it's overdramatic, hehe.

and. gosh, kane. the way kane grows on them and, honestly, the way they grown on kane, is so precious to me. and it was a very rocky start, mind you! [2,8k ramble ahead <3]

as i said before, they actually first met months before the vex arc. back then, the vex party (kane included) were slightly interested in scar, and considered grian as a liability to him. that was the eclipse day, especially dangerous, and they were sure an avian like that was bound to not survive, anyway.

scar is invited to go with them. he refuses.

imagine their surprise when they run into them later, and grian's still there. it's still the two of them against the world.

the vex party is different now—it's not the best warriors coming out into chaos and mayhem to get their claws bloody. they're less on guard, more curious and open. impressed, honestly, that these two are still alive.

they invite them again, this time the avian included, and... they say yes. (mostly lured by a prospect of sleeping in an actual bed.)

there's no real accommodation extended to grian as an avian. (except nadia does put in the effort to make the place safer for the birb guest.) (safe from what, you ask? hehe. dw about that <3)

everything continues feeling a bit precarious and uneasy, because even though the vexes have no interest in grian's wings—they themselves are hunted and actively fight hunters, after all; they have no dealings with them—it's still very uncomfortable, the way they are looking at him. the way their attention inevitably snags at him, his presence sticking out even with his wings tucked underneath his cloak.

honestly, for a while, the vexes really don't consider grian as a part of the group at all. he's just scar's plus-one, almost like a possession. he seems to belong to scar, in some way.

they'd still fight to protect him, if it came to that, but with a convoluted logic behind it, you know? they protect their own, and scar is one of them—a vex. and grian comes attached to that. that's all there is to it, in their eyes.

the vexes are loud and brash and violent. taunting and open. they're not used to someone who isn't like that. someone who might need more space, different boundaries. someone who doesn't have magic and claws and can't heal—someone light and small, with bones that might break far too easily, and with bright but dishevelled feathers so fearfully and insistently tucked out of sight.

they have no idea how to treat this avian, and they're stubborn enough to not even really consider it at first. he is living with them, surely he can be the one to adjust?

---

this all sort of culminates into the bird incident.

consider this: one day the vex hunting party returns with a rare specialty: a bird.

grian hasn't really seen a living bird yet in this world. and now won't be an exception. the vex saw the bird and promptly shot it, looking forward to the meal. they come back to the village all boisterous and grinning, flaunting the feathery carcass.

it's not like they outright present it to the avian—even they know that'd be wrong—but they're overjoyed and loud about it, wanting to show the others, not really being careful.

grian's ears ring. he's overcome with nausea, feeling dizzy, trying not to have a panic attack right then and there,.helplessly trying not to associate their howls and cheers with the elated, cruel cheers of hybrid hunters.

scar, of course, is pissed on grian's behalf.

but the others don't understand. it's not something they'd ever consider, a wholly new concept that refuses to sink fast enough to deescalate. birds are a rare delicacy! they're yummy and this is a triumph! this is meant to be good, c'mon! it has nothing to do with the avian!

kane says something along the lines of, “come on scar it’s food we don’t need to coddle him—“ 

and Scar gets even more pissed off. “are you even thinking?? try to put yourself in our shoes—“ 

this all leads to a fight breaking out between kane and scar. a vex fight, using vex forms! which is how they solve arguments here in the commune.

vex forms use vex magic that is rooted in emotions, and because of that, there's an unspoken understanding that whoever feels stronger about the issue at hand is bound to win. it's a convoluted way to say that the winner is the one with stronger conviction.

but kane has a much better control over his vex form than scar does, instantly putting scar at a disadvantage, no matter how fiercely he wants to have an upper hand here, to show them that they are wrong.

they fight with claws and teeth, feral and angry, and— this is normal! it's normal for vexes! their vex forms run on magic that will patch them up, and neither of them is really trying to genuinely harm the other.

still, it's scary to witness. blood is drawn. it's hard to tell whose it is. it's all a bit of a blur.

grian's mind is reeling. he moves on pure instinct, trying to get into the fray, to help scar.

nico takes place by grian's side and holds him back. "just let them fight it out." he's very calm about it. he knows his mate, he speaks with his claws sometimes, that's just how things are. "they'll be fine."

it would be placating, maybe, if grian's mind wasn't so violently spinning. maybe if he was used to people who aren't scar leaning close into his orbit. maybe if he was used to hands other than scar's touching him.

right now, grian is already haywire on unease, and he's being grabbed and—

he lets out a distressed chirp.

this effectively whips scar's attention away from his fight with kane, instantly searching for threats to his mate, and lunging at nico instead.

which in turn triggers kane's protectiveness of his mate, and he pounces on scar with much more force. the "petty" argument shifts into something worse, more fierce. things get a bit out of hand.

nico releases grian, realising they need to break this up and pull the two idiots (/aff) apart before they really hurt themselves.

grian's strategy is still to put himself between kane and scar, so that he can't hurt scar more. so he leaps in, wings flapping, desperate to shield his mate.

it's what he'd do with hunters, but kane is a clawed, angry vex.

nico is the only levelheaded one to see where this is going. the only one to instantly understand the consequences of this. because grian isn't a vex. he's an avian, made of brittle, hollow bones, and without a lick of magic in his body that'd help him heal.

grian gets so close to getting horribly injured. it's only nico that stops kane short of hurting him. snapping him out of it. scolding grian, too, like what were you thinking??

but this is a breaking point, a line drawn, where the vexes see that this bird is as fiercely protective as scar is. that he isn't a coward. that he is willing to put himself on the line. and, it gets grian some respect! a fearless little bird!

while nico checks grian over, still scolding him but no longer encroaching on his space or trying to touch him, kane walks over to scar, who is on the ground, mildly concussed but otherwise okay. kane extends his hand to pull him up.

because it's over now! they fought it out. (scar lost.) there's a mutual respect in the aftermath of vex fights, no sour feelings—there's nothing shameful in fighting for what you believe in, after all. and even if there's only one winner, it levels the ground they're standing on, inching towards mutual understanding. or something.

so he helps scar up, throwing out a remark as he grins: "your bird is crazy, scar. i like him."

scar is still dizzy when he responds with a dazed "i like him too."

in the aftermath of this, vexes start to pay more attention to grian. more openly letting him in, interacting with him (instead of just addressing scar), trying to include him.

tentatively, grian lets it happen. it still has its bumps, many mishaps. but none out of malice, you know?

like that time kane talked to grian about mating marks. he basically acknowledges that he doesn't get it, knowing nothing about the avian side of things, not realising what scar's earring means. after all, vexes mark their loved ones with teeth! that's the language kane understands!

it's a whole big deal, really stressing grian out, even if it wasn't meant maliciously. but it's just one more thing showing that these vexes don't really understand anything about avians—their instincts, communication, or ways of showing affection. they never really had to think about it!

so misunderstandings are bound to happen. but it's not all bad! it stops being so awfully rocky over time, with less steps on buried landmines. it tides into a collection of nicer moments as the vexes and grian learn to navigate each other and start being more accepting about their differences, learning about that gap between them. even start to try and bridge it!

the vexes celebrate often, using every little excuse to make a party out of their triumphs. they like being rowdy and dancing and just living, and they are eager to drag scar and grian into it.

it's these events that let scar and grian loosen a little bit more. they're silly with each other and unabashedly in love and, honestly, they're beginning to grow on everyone.

having scar there as a sort of middle ground between grian and the others really helps, too. because they get to see how scar interacts with grian, and how grian interacts with him. they start learning, quietly, just from that, about some subtleties. they also get to see a more open side of grian, one that's reserved for scar, allowing them a glimpse to who grian could be, if only he trusted his surroundings enough.

and maybe they find that they do want that trust.

they do want him to know he can rely on them. they'd fight for him, you know? he is now one of them, without question, they've taken him in and he's fought his way into being more than just "scar's bird". he can be fearless, ready to fight when it counts, a quality vexes hold in high regard! and they now know that there's definitely more to him than he's letting them see, and... they want to provide the space for him to unravel that. to show all of his potential. to allow him to live like they do. like the world isn't constantly about to end.

during this time, scar is often taken along on vex patrols, learning about vexes and being encouraged to develop more as a fighter (something he isn't really all that much into). this means he spends a lot of time with nico and kane, as they're two prominent warriors in this village, and they end up chatting a lot.

this then tips into them hanging out or approaching scar even outside of these patrols more often, feeling closer to him now—and that means approaching grian, too, since him and scar come as a package deal. and eventually it stops feeling like grian is the extra here. he has his own value, his own presence, and they recognise it! they want to learn more about him too!

they get a chance to see a side of grian that they don't expect, when he builds a barn for the old goat that lives in the village. they don't even realise how big of a deal that is—they're just stunned by his skills. because building with more than just bland function in mind is not something they can fathom. they wouldn't know where to start!

so here is where kane has to confront that fighting skills aren't everything. that other things can matter and be wonderful, too. and, actually, he'd really like it if grian kept building more. (imagine scar beaming with pride over his mate in the background of this all, yes.)

sometimes when scar and kane spar, grian climbs up a nearby roof (helps him settle, to be high up). sometimes, nico follows, sitting next to him and keeping him company.

throughout this all, scar and grian keep some layers of distance around them still. they don't go to sleepovers. they don't talk about things that hurt deep behind their ribs. they don't talk about where they're from or what they've been through. they keep their heartache to themselves, all the little moments that make their souls splinter and fray; whenever things catch them off guard and things become Too Much Too Fast, they just leave instead of talking it out and explaining. drawing a thick line behind them and that trigger, retreating back to their own space to put themselves back together in privacy.

(and it's great because they do have their own space!)

kane has a lot of that, you know, brashness about him. lots of thoughtless words. he's not great at being subtle or having tact. but he never means things badly. he never wants to upset them. and that's something he now finds himself wrangling with. asking nico what he's doing wrong whenever scar and grian retreat. (because through that rough exterior, he's a big softie deep down when it's about people he cares about.) (oh yeah turns out he profoundly cares about grian and scar. huh. when did that happen.)

more often than not, it's not even his fault. it takes very little to touch scar and grian's haphazard piles of trauma.

and, they know! they know he doesn't mean to set things off. they know they're not giving him enough to understand what to steer clear of (they themselves don't know, half the time, to be fair).

just like how kane is learning about scar and grian, they're also learning about him. about how he hides his emotions behind words, how he gets easily embarrassed and resorts to pride and teasing, how he sometimes says things in a different way than he means them.

and step by step, they're inching closer to common grounds. they start to rely on each other's presence.

and then The Night For Living comes around.

of course they're gonna go spend the celebrations and games together! they're so much closer now than they were at the start, fond of each other in ways that'd make kane's face burn red and stutter if he was forced to admit it.

they're friends.

and maybe they could be more than that.

cue found family trope

a lot of things happen during the Big Special Vex Celebration Night. the night when it's safe to be, unabashedly and fully. it's wilder than normal celebrations, longer, an event everyone looks forward to. including special homebrew alcohol and a huge bonfire! vex howling and laughter and banter everywhere. roughhousing and sparring and competing.

grian and scar fall under it's rough charm, too. with kane and nico by their side, making their way through the event, drinking and talking and laughing. playing games with each other, and in general having a good time.

this was said before, but this is the night when grian gets mr beak, a silly chicken plushie. and it's kane who gives the toy over—kane, who before fought scar on insensitivity where birds were concerned. now, he is treading carefully, looking to scar for approval and guidance. not wanting to mess up.

equipped with mr beak, they move on, seeking out the next thrill. they decide to do the obstacle course, this time just kane and grian, 1v1! no flying allowed, but everything else (including gliding) is ok.

this is where something in grian sparks.

maybe it's the alcohol, the hints of safety and freedom, or them playing games, but— he gets really into it. he gets to utilise his wings as he navigates the obstacles, and he's laughing, running on a high, and... the finish line is a pile of blankets.

a nest-like thing.

i do have 6,7k words long self-indulgent RP tucked away of just this scene, if you'd like. but the gist of it is that kane is once again caught off guard, because— well, he's never seen grian like this. so bright and cheerful, wings in use.

and grian invites him into it. beckons him closer as him and scar giggle giddily about his victory in a pile of blankets.

the prize, this time, is a special cherry flavoured liquor bottle... that has a pink ribbon attached to it.

maybe grian isn't thinking things through. maybe he's tipsy and running on bird instincts. maybe this is impulsive.

but it feels right.

so he grabs kane's hand. and he ties that ribbon around kane's wrist.

and even if kane doesn't understand the severity of it, he knows it means something big. it's a gift. and it's not a bite, but in kane's heart, that suddenly doesn't seem to matter.

(and yet scar knows. he knows what grian is saying here.)

(he's saying: flock.)

there's more that happens on this night. scar and nico also end up getting ribbons, several mental spirals and breakdowns and games later (pff), and now they're a Ribbon Gang!! (family. flock.) ...but i'm going to leave this at that, as this was meant to be about grian and kane and... i just really wanted to tell you about the ribbon thing :3

as a bonus, have this discord screenshot that i find very funny in the most endearing way:

[daisychainfiction]

Omg i stole this ask from somewhere, but it was going around months ago, and I'd totally forgot how much i loved it, so here it is againn Circulation!! *Jazz hands* Sorry.. lmao. So MC gets a bit too tipsy, and the ROs want to take them home ( the whole relationship already established), but MC is like, hands off, I'm already taken... because drunkity drunk and can not compute.... how does this go? 🤣😭

This one is hard because most of them would try to cut off MC before they got that wasted lol. In the event of them not doing so, say at Deerly’s birthday party…

Below the cut!

Hunter is more confused than anything else. “Oh, I’m very aware you’re taken,” he begins, thinking you’re joking. When he realizes that you’re sincerely that far gone, he gets worried. “Let’s get you some water and carbs while we wait for you to recognize me.”

…

Vardah is terribly pleased. She sits you down at a table and leans close, chin in an upturned palm. “You’re so lucky to have someone like Vardah,” she teases. “Tell me all about her. What are your favorite things? How does she really make you feel?” her voice is sweet and persuasive – much more so than usual.

…

Annika is in her zone. She focuses on bringing you food and water, getting some carbs and fats into you. She pampers you between signed assurances that ‘your lover will be here soon’ – all the while getting a cool compress and some medicine to try heading off the oncoming hangover.

…

Jordan is both amused and annoyed. “Well, I guess your partner isn’t worth their weight if they aren’t here to escort you home.” When that only riles you, they sigh. “C’mon, perrito. Your dashing lover would rather find you asleep in your bed than wandering the grounds drunk off your ass.”

…

Nadia sighs, glad she noticed you stumbling around outside before you fell or wandered into the woods or…  “Let me walk you to your room, alright? We can wait for Nadia together. Maybe we can have some coffee? How is Bug? Is she still coming this weekend?” She poses gentle questions while firmly steering you home and into relative safety. Safer than outdoors, anyway.

…

Silas is amused. He makes a little game out of it to see how long it takes for you to recognize him.  He begins talking about all of your favorite things, all of the mundane parts of your life that you’ve only shared with him. All the while, he slowly gets closer, gently touches your hand, and drops his voice low against your ear. “Do you remember me now, sweetheart?”

[onedayimgonnasnap]

Lucio Slander

I’m choosing to be a menace to society starting with this ugly ass mother fucker.

Lucio desperately needs some mother fucking eye drops.

His hair is so gelled it cracks after he takes a shower and they’re still hair gel in it.

Mother fucker would go up to any Hispanic and say “My garden needs to be watered.”

Bro Fr deadass a colonizer

He makes Rika and J*sper look like saints. How tf is that even possible-

Bro dead ass is hated on by the whole damn city.

Bro is throwing tantrums at 40.

How tf does he cheat on Nadia- NADIA IS TO GOOD FOR HIM- WTF

Bro dead ass built like Ken from Toy Story 3

Bros hair line is dead ass reciting. It’s leaving to a whole ass another country.

bros the type of mf to say every single slur A-Z to remember his ABCs because he’s to dumb to memorize them.

Bro dead ass looks like a depressed uncle

He’s the type of mf to say he’s not white but say he’s actually 0.001% black so he can say the N- Word

Bros nose is built like a right triangle.

He’s allergic to anything spicy. He adds salt and pepper and says it’s the height of luxury.

How tf do you screw up so badly for your own momma to hate you 💀✋

I bet his mama really regrets not having an abortion

Bro dead ass in Muriel’s route cried “MAMA” and no one was there to help him 😭

Bro when you open up the app and press everyone they all have a cute smile and then there’s HIM- AND ITS SUCH AN UGLY FACE.

Bros hygiene is so down bad that a plague was coming back when he was coming back. Do you know how bad that fucking looks? 😒

Plague or no plague, the deepest HES ever been in a hole is the one that he came out of his mamas.

Everytime we see him as a goat it’s a whole ass jumpscare.

Bros Fr apology video is gonna be a Travis Scott one.

I bet he doesn’t even wash his ass in the shower.

His nails are so fucking dirty they’re all black and it’s not even from the plague.

Bro has an ugly crying face. How tf do people get manipulated by him 💀✋ like dead ass I could tell him the trash Can has 5 dollars in it and he’d jump in without worrying about anything.

Bros fake robo arm has all the damn diseases, AIDS, cancer, bitchlesscosus, diabetes, rabies.

Actually if he bit you in his goat form you would proceed to her rabies.

I like how everytime he appears everyone is so sick and tired of his always seeking validation ass.

He has the posture of someone who didn’t get enough love and validation from their father.

I bet he has lice, like both head lice and pubic lice. And some of the head lice are dead because of all that hair gel he be using. So they’re stuck there in the middle forever.

The remaining live lice sing gospel songs on his head and praying that someday they will escape his greasy head ass because even they can’t breathe.

He would make out with a guy and still refuse to wash his ass because he thinks it’s gay.

Bro is not on gang with his rizz gang.

Bros the type of mf to be so happy when someone gives him a Pat on the back. But when that person does give him a pat on the back their hand now has a fowl Oder that only Jesus can stop.

Mf has only a face a mother Can love. Actually I lied, not even his own mother could love what ever that is. 😟

I like how no matter the fan art and etc he’s still FUCKING UGLY- NOONE CAN DO HIM JUSTICE

Bro has enough ear wax to make him a candle for days.

Bros eye brows are some how splitting I bet his eyebrow lice also be singing Christmas carols

These bitches look the same 💀✋

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

ooooo possibly a mini head canon for an MC who loves having their hair played with? Like it's both their "night night" switch but also just feels amazing?

Here's a cookie for u btw!!! 🍪

The Arcana Mini-HCs: When MC likes having their hair played with

Julian: only really does this when he's at home and can take his gloves off so the leather doesn't catch on your hair. this has ended with you falling asleep on his chest on the couch multiple times

Asra: extremely sensitive towards boundaries but also loves any means they have to be affectionate with you - once you give the okay, will tangle his fingers in your hair any chance he gets to sit with you

Nadia: likes having her hair played with too. cuddle moments often become playful arguments about who gets to play with whose hair since it often results in one of you falling fast asleep in minutes

Muriel: very worried at first about accidentally tugging on your hair, ends up defaulting to gently scrubbing at your scalp like he would behind Inanna's ears. will catch your head in his palm if you doze off

Portia: likes to sit on your lap facing you and run her fingers through your hair, idly trying different styles on you while she tells you about her day. will not hesitate to recommend hair care adjustments as well

Lucio: this took a lot of trial and error, but not only has he learned how to put the occasional Scourge-ish braid in your hair with his prosthetic, he's figured out how to give you scritches with the claws

[bahrtofane]

My silly silly girl, Yusra. I should write her some time me thinks. this is a good intro for her tho

Asra 

—--

Turbulent. Always in a feverish haze desperate to latch on to each other even if it means clawing skin raw. 

What does it mean to love, to be loved ? 

There's so much yearning, it never really goes away does it.

I'd like to think there are moments of brief joy before it sputters and dies out like a flame in a downpour. Can't do much to keep it a light but pray.

Julian

—---

Games. Pretending to be so grand and yet so foolish. Coy, in ways that tear down any expectation for each other.

Julian gives no mind to the hum in the back of his mind at every touch, he keeps playing. His turn has been awfully long. 

There's always a rush whenever they're in each other's presence, eyes darting everywhere but where they should be.

Someone should really end the game shouldn't they. 

Lucio 

—--

Sharp. Pointed gaze, fixed sneer. A guilt that bubbles from somewhere far from here, and yet makes its way up the throat to coat the mouth in black, rendering speech and subsequently thought most useless.

It's not a game, never a game. The stakes are always stacked high, so so high. Aren't they tired? 

Lucio thinks his shoulders have molded permanently into restless and rigid, almost by nature now. 

Yusra thinks his discomfort needs to be hailed from more. So the stakes are raised again. 

Nadia 

—--

A waltz. Elegant, yet the smiles are strung by muscles that threaten to buckle and break. 

There are so many eyes and ears and gazes and opinions floating about them. So many it begins to cloud their gaze. The palace is turning into a prison, and they must serve it.

Only in the late hours of the night does relief come. A crackle of wind pulls back the curtains, and the facade crumbles. It's all too much at times, perhaps the palace isn't meant for Yusra, a countess is not one to be in her presence as such.

Each woe is neatly placed in an iron fortress, sealed and hidden as the curtains draw open once more.   

Portia 

—-

Giddy. Smiles that crackle and burst like lightning. Electric, bright. The same smiles that give way to a torrent, a downpour. Emotions that are held on to nothing but mere force. Forces that tear and uproot all in their way if left to their own.

Almost blinded by the desire to recklessly charge forward. Ignoring even what they hold dear along the way. 

Yusra fears the uncertainty as much as she welcomes it. 

Muriel 

—---

Push and pull. The pulling of timid nature out of its shell, and its pull back. Perhaps it will get cumbersome, the tether of the old game wearing out till it snaps back into the face of its holders on both ends. 

Or perhaps the game will end, the rope thrown and a new constant introduced.

Muriel doesnt know all about that, he likes what is familiar. But Yusra chases what is new and unknown. 

[venusflytrpp]

The way you felt - Lucrecia

There you sat on the same sofa that you found yourself on time and time again. The same looks of pity across the nightclub coming in from every direction. Every time you wonder how you got into this same position every Wednesday. Helplessly pining after a girl who barely gave you the time of day in favour of her ex who wanted nothing to with her romantically.

“Y/N!!” Hearing your name being repeatedly called from the entrance of the club you get up making your way through sweaty bodies, shoes slightly sticking to the floor due to spilled drinks by the wasted entitled students of las encinas. “Y/N” You increase your pace getting closer to the entrance locating the source of the voice to be Rebeka, Samuel and Nadia clearly blocked for entrance by a rather burly guard. 

“Right, there she is finally, y/n we were just telling this guy that we are meant to be on the list, but your little Mexican barbie must have forgotten” Rebeka enunciates nodding her head within the club. A blank expression takes homage on your face until you look across all three of them eyes pleading at you to go along with it.

Rolling your eyes, you look at the bouncer “Let them in.  Lucrecia forgot to get their names on the list. I texted her to remind her, but it seems she forgot again” As you see the acknowledgement cross his face you start moving back to where you were previously seated.

They pass the bouncer as he lets them in with Rebeka patting him on the cheek in a teasing manner. Moving to catch up to you she moves her arm to rest on your shoulder redirecting you to the bar. You look at her, eyebrows raising in question only to find a knowing smile on her face. As you arrive at the bar Rebeka calls out to the bartender. 

“6 shots please my good man, I’m tryna get this one tanked” She exclaims patting your back enthusiastically. Your eyes widen in a panic. She sees this laughing at you saying “no there not all for you babes, we get three each.” 

“How do you know I'm not already drunk?” A look from her is all it takes to get you to shut up and down all three of your shots as soon as they are given to you.

“So where is Latino Barbie? “She asks already assuming you'd know where she is due to your endless pining. You nod your head towards Lucrecia who's got herself all over Guzman as he’s looking in the direction of the bar to the girl who appeared next to you after taking off her hijab in the bathroom. 

“You know I'll never understand how you managed to find yourself at the beck and call of a girl like that. Any of the girls in this school would drop their pants for you with just a look yet you chose her.” Rebeka releases her arm from round your shoulder turning you in your seat to look away from Lu. “And before you go off with your pitiful speech on how you didn't choose to fall in love with her, I don't wanna hear it. The girl doesn't give you the time of day and when she does, she somehow manages to convince you that she's yours.” 

Your head drops down to your hands taking Rebe’s words to heart, knowing that everything she's saying is true. “I love her Rebe and every time that I do have her in my arms, I never want to let go because it seems like she finally feels the same way. I thought I was fine with having her once in a while but now it just really fucking hurts.” Tears escape the corner of your eyes rolling down your cheeks into your closed hands.

Rebe takes your shoulders into her hands pulling you forward into her embrace. Whispering comforting words into your ears, kissing your forehead as she goes to look you in the eyes. “Look y/n you can either confront her today and try and get out of this or we can get absolutely fucked and deal with it tomorrow”

A smile makes its way on your lips as you reply “the second option please” A nod from her confirms it as she turns back towards the bartender ordering more shots.

About 6 more shots and a few drinks later you found yourself on the dancefloor with Rebe grinding her back against you and some girl that you forgot the name of behind you. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket causing the unnamed girl to lean forward and shout over the music “Your phones going off!” Nodding your head in acknowledgement you take your phone out unlocking it only getting a glimpse of Lucrecia’s name across the screen before Rebeka leans backwards grabbing the phone and dropping it into her bra.

“Hey-” before you could even begin to protest, she shouts “No y/n, we’re getting fucked and dealing with this tomorrow remember?” This is all it takes to shut you up before you grab her hips and pull her further into you in agreement.

—

Waking up to a pounding in your head wasn't the morning that you'd expect when you got ready to leave for the club last night. But alas here you were laying upside down in Rebeka’s bed the other side vacant. 

Slowly rising, taking caution to moving too fast you get off the bed and make your way downstairs after checking you were decent in the mirror.  Getting to the bottom of the stairs, making your way into the kitchen you see Rebeka and her mum sitting at the kitchen counter with a jug of orange juice on the table as well as a big plate of toast and fruits. 

“Buenos días hermosa! “Rebeka’s mum calls out to you causing you to flinch as her voice seemed to make your hangover worse. “Oh, right sorry, it must have been a long night” She revaluates her words and volume, taking note of your flinch. 

(Good morning beautiful)

Raising an eyebrow towards Rebeka you ask the silent question getting the reply “no, no we didn't do anything last night” With your shoulders falling down in relief she retaliates “Hey! Don't look so relieved you’d be lucky to have me” Chuckling to yourself you reply.

“Of course, I would.” Looking down, patting down your pockets you ask “hey, have you seen my phone anywhere?” Extending her pointer finger to the corner of the table furthest from you, you see your phone.

“I don't know if you even want to open it, Latino barbie went a bit mad spamming your phone last night, it might have been after she saw us leave together but otherwise, I’m unsure” 

Eyes widening you unlock your phone finding about 20 messages from Lucrecia all asking about your whereabouts and why you left with Rebe. 

“Joder” you say locking your phone placing it face down on the table.

(Fuck)

—

Sunlight had vowed to be your sworn enemy this morning as you got out of the car, Rebeka getting out behind you and handing you a pair of sunglasses which you were grateful for.

“I told you you'd need that spare uniform you left at my place sometime” She straightens out her skirt looking you up and down in your maroon pants and matching school blazer, shirt and tie. 

Rolling your eyes, you move ahead of her making your way across the bridge into the school deeply dreading running into Lucrecia, as you knew if you did you probably wouldn't have the energy for your daily facade.

Walking into the classroom you immediately wanted to walk out but whilst turning to do so you bump into Samuel causing you to turn back into the classroom and sit next to Rebe rather than your normal seat behind Carla y Lucrecia.

(y-and)

“Aye, hermosa you're in my seat!” Valerio’s voice booms out from the front of the class and immediately you want to be swallowed by the ground beneath you. Lucrecia turning round in her seat, starts beckoning out for you but the headache that’s enslaved you causes you to ground yourself further into your arms. Rebeka’s hand moves upwards and downwards rubbing circles on your back. 

(Hermosa – beautiful)

“Right, Ms Lucrecia I’m going to need you to stop calling for y/n like she’s a dog and leave her alone, at least until break, Por favor. And Valerio you can just take y/n’s seat” Rebe calls forward addressing the stepsiblings

“Narco since when did you speak for y/n, I’m sure her mouth works” Lu retaliates ignoring the glare Rebe gives her focusing on you as your head peaks out and all you say is 

“Not today, Lu, Por favor” The positioning of your head causes the words to come out muffled, but she must’ve gotten the message as she turns around, scowl on her face.  A small tap on your back from Rebeka clearly commends you for the decision.

(Por favor – please)

—-

Class finishes and your first instinct is to grab your things and leave before Lu catches up, but it seems she had the same idea, as she’s up before you standing in the doorway, blocking you from leaving.

“And where do you think you’re going? “She questions looking you up and down, choosing to ignore the clear distasteful look you were sporting. 

“I have another class soon- “ 

“It’s in an hour, we both have the same class next.” She interrupts, as you hear Valerio chuckle from behind you. Informing you that everyone can hear the conversation. 

“Look, to be honest I’m tired, hungover and I really don’t want to deal with your shit right now. Can I just get past?” Clearly obnoxious to the current situation you hear Valerio laugh even louder making a few comments to Rebe which you're sure you’ll find out about later.

Lu takes a step back sending a dirty look to Valerio then grabbing at your wrist pulling you towards the girls bathrooms clearly uncaring if you run into people behind her. Due to this your left sprouting apologies left and right in response to the looks you get. Some even give you sympathy looks once they see who's pulling you.

Making her way into the bathroom with you in tow she kicks out anyone that was in there and locks the door behind you.

“What the fuck was that about Y/n?” She turns around giving you a look that makes you pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

“I could be asking you the exact same question Lucrecia, you don't seem to have any consideration for other people. Though that wasn't really a surprise to me” you say the last part under your breath, though by the look on her face you can tell she heard. 

“What’s gotten into you- “

“What’s gotten into me is that I’m finally done with your bullshit, you can’t use me as a failsafe every time that your advances on Guzman go wrong” Your head starts pounding a reminder of the hangover you were still nursing but regardless you keep going, “ The guy doesn’t want you and I did, I wanted you, I gave you everything you deserved Love, Comfort and more. Yet every time you were done with me you went right back to him. I knew this yet it took someone else saying it for me to finally get it in my head.”

Her face drops at your use of the past tense 

“Did…” she asks “Did?” she asks again anger rising in her voice as she get louder “Is this about Narco… did you fuck her!”

“Wait, what… did you listen to a word I just said, it’s you, you’re the issue-”

“You still haven’t denied it” Your head tilts in question “After the party last night, did you fuck Rebeka?”

Your brows raise in disbelief at the accusation, but you decide to keep her guessing, avoiding the question again “Can you hear me, Lucrecia? The issue isn’t with who I’m fucking or who I’m not fucking it’s about how you’re messing with me, you know how I feel and yet you can’t give me a straight answer.”

“Feelings were never involved in this, I thought you knew that?”

You feel your heart break at this, looking her in the eyes trying to find the lie in her words but all you see is her looking back at you with a sure look on her face. You take a step back approaching the door, unlocking it.

“Ok, cool… Don’t contact me please, I hope you're happy, But I guess you won't be until you realise that it's never gonna be with Guzman.” 

Getting out of the bathroom, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, you make your way to your previous classroom. Entering the room, you see everyone conversing and get quieter seeing you, clearly indicating they were talking about what was going on between you and Lucrecia. Despite this you walk up to Rebe mid conversation with Samuel and tap her on the shoulder. 

As if recognising the tears threatening to fall, she goes to ask you how it went but you interrupt 

“Can we go back to yours?” you ask quietly “She’ll probably turn up at my house later because I asked her not to call.” 

“Anything to blow off school… and also to help you out clearly something happened with her” She initially grins before realising and replacing it with a soft smile. 

Rolling your eyes, you grab her hand and her bag leading her out of the classroom not before Valerio calls after you 

“Can I join?”

Disgust takes up your face sending him a look that shuts him down then continuing your way out of the class and down the halls. Just as you reach the main entrance you bump into Lu falling back into Rebe, her hand holding your waist steady. She goes to insult you for colliding with her before she realises it’s you. 

Looking you up and down for any discrepancies she may have caused she goes to apologise before she sees Rebeka’s hands still on your waist. This stops her as her look hardens and she stalks past not before barging Rebe’s shoulder. 

You shake your head taking her hand back into yours leading her out of the school towards the car. 

“What was that about? I mean aside from the obvious hate she has for me, it seems it’s gotten worse” She questions.

Begrudgingly, you answer 

“She thinks we fucked”

AN- started off inspired by this song but it kinda goes off it i left the song there if you still wanna listen.

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 34

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Masterlist

“Do not call anyone. I'm on my way.”

Those were the words Nadia said, and then she hung up.

But she is not here yet. We are alone. You were awake for a while, but now you are asleep and I don't know if that's good or not. Is this like a concussion? Should I be trying to keep you awake and aware?

I try to Google it, but all I find is ‘if you suspect someone has overdosed on pills, call 911 immediately.’ Very helpful.

I had to change the bedsheets, and your clothes too. You were awake at that point and you just let me - you just stared at me. Then, when I left the room for a moment:

“I hate you.”

I didn't answer you, (Y/n). You are not in a good state of mind and there is nothing I can say. But the words stung, especially because I believe them. I believe you.

The thing is, I also believed you when you said you still love me.

So if you hate me and you love me, where does that leave us?

Nadia shows up, and once I let her in she immediately goes into the bedroom. I stand in the doorway while she fusses over you, and you barely stir but Nadia turns to me and says:

“She'll be fine.”

“How do you know?”

She presses a finger to her lips - shhh - and we go into the living room before she answers:

“I've been through this before.”

I open my mouth, close it. I'm not sure if it's my place to ask.

Nadia shakes her head.

“Don't worry about it.”

“Why did you give her those pills, Nadia?”

Nadia rubs the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes.

“Joe, (Y/n) is the last person I thought would ever do this. I just wanted to help.”

I believe her. She has never been anything but a good friend to you. But…

“If we want to help her, we need to get her a doctor.”

“To do what? Pump her stomach? She doesn't look like she took enough to actually die.”

I press my lips together. I cross my arms.

“I made her puke it all up.”

“Good, okay. So basically, pumping her stomach's already been done and the professional help? It would make things worse. You don't know her family, okay? Not really. If they find out about this, her grandparents will have her forcibly committed and they'll never let her go back to New York. She'll lose her job and you and everything that still makes her happy. Her life will be over.”

She thinks I make you happy? She thinks your job makes you happy?

Does she know you at all?

“Nadia,” I say, and trust me (Y/n), I can't believe my own ears, either. “Maybe going back to America isn't the best thing for her right now.”

“Have you even been looking around you, Joe?” Nadia asks, disbelieving. “(Y/n)’s life here was an unending river of bullshit. And she loves her family, really she does, but they were ninety percent of it. Her grandmother calls her fat and tried to force some kind of old school diet on her and her grandfather expects her to be the perfect daughter because he thinks his actual children turned out wrong. They drove (Y/n)’s actual mother mostly out of her life because they thought they could do better. And why do you think (Y/n)’s mom dated around so much? I mean, (Y/n) will probably blame her mother forever, but speaking as an outsider, her grandparents are fucking devils. They hated her mom for being a single mother, they basically tried to get her to sign (Y/n) over to them and when she didn't, they–” Nadia pauses, clears her throat. “If (Y/n) didn't tell you any of this, I should probably stop talking.”

But she’s said plenty. Suddenly, so many things are making sense to me.

“Okay,” I say. “Maybe you're right, then.”

But what I'm thinking is: going to New York won't make you happy. But I might know what will.

Only I can't. You told me not to. Not even if you asked me.

Not that I ever promised you anything.

“Have you had anything to eat today, Joe?” Nadia asks me, putting a hand on my arm. “I think I should get you something to eat.”

I let her go. Not because I'm hungry; I just need time to think.

[tsaritza-mika]

Random Main 6 HCs #12

Modern AU Julian

Has a pair of black pirate bunny slippers. Yes, they have floppy ears, they have eyepatches, and he will never get rid of them because they are perfect

There is always something playing in his apartment. Music of any and all genres, leaving the tv on one of his favorite streaming providers/tv channels, there just has to be sound so he can focus. At first it was because the stress of his job/studying left him with mild tinnitus, but after so long it’s just become habit

Has absolutely done the model/glamor shot photos thing. He keeps them in a special album in his room, waiting to be with the right person before sharing them. His favorite was the shot of him draped over a velvet fainting couch, dark scarlet rose petals everywhere, and a black silk sheet strategically flowing down from his shoulders to his feet.

He can totally pick up stuff with his toes. Loves to do it when you least expect it

He’s not huge on sweets, but he loves Creme Brulee. It’s just sweet enough, but with a smooth, warm flavor

Total fan of graffiti art. There’s just something about it that’s so much more free than traditionally practiced art. He’s still a fan of those too, of course, but it’s that feeling of rebellion that goes along with graffiti art that makes it just so much more indulgent

He may not be the complete handyman package around the house, but he’s a decent occasional carpenter. He can follow directions, and know what tools are good for the job, he just can’t conceptualize projects very well. But that’s okay, because that’s something Portia can do really well.

Never misses a Carnival/State Fair/County Fair! The lights, the food, the games, the rides! Also wandering the little shops for cool stuff, fireworks, performers and shows... And he’ll go with just about anyone, too! Maybe twice with Portia and Mazelinka to make sure they see and do everything, spend the afternoon hanging out with Nadia and Asra, and oh does he love a carnival date! Please split a funnel cake with this man on the Ferris wheel, he would love it, and he deserves it after working so hard all week at the hospital <3