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simonquill-com · 9 days ago

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Ok, i wanna re-preface this by saying that my behavior towards this whole thing does not stem from my liking of bobby. My rudeness in the original post was because i was incredibly tired, had a bad day, and suddenly saw a post i completely disagreed with. I was not good 👍 and i apologize for my rudeness . I've apologized twice already. But you still seem to have some resentment towards me based on your post language. (But i understand why, i was a dick)

Second of all, i can not respond to everything you say because im literally dragged into a bar right now. You would not believe the situations im put in, i swear. So im basing all of this off of my short term memory of my post im sorry 😭😭 i wish i could do a better analisys with deep dives and references to quote to prove my points better but the shit situations im put in are amazing.

Third of all, i never based ANYTHING on Fandom bobby cause i dont interact with the fandom like 90% of the time. I make my own opinions out of my brain and own ideas ty very much.

Also, sorry for calling you op, river, it was 4 am, man, sorry, really.

Ok, now into the actual thing (ill keep this kind of short)

I base my ideas on my own behavioral analysis. Im a man who is really based on his opinions and thoughts. I wish i could quote things i really do.

If you want a (semi) GOOD analysis of mine, from what i believe is Phantom and bobbys behavioral differences. Check out my post where i rant about simons inability as a manipulator, i quote "the art of manipulation" and show some behavioral patterns of phantom's (as bobby) that make bobby out to be someone that is smart, understands human behaviour and even (would) care for simon if he was real in his own way via phantoms characterization of him.

(EDIT, I GOT HOME. IM A BIT BUSY AND CAN'T ARGUE TOO MUCH MORE ON THIS POST SPECIFICALLY. I DID ADD TO THIS THREAD. BUT HERES THE LINK TO THAT POST MR RIVER )

I now further understand your "phantom was made later" point and sort of agree. However. I still throughly believe that the fact that bobby was not made with phantom's image in mind does not have anything to do with the "real" bobby.

"Prototype bobby" is the bobby that was made without phantom in mind, which is sysnonimus with phantom bobby since phantom was still made at the end. And phantom still applies.

Canon "real" bobby is the man phantom killed, not the man concepted in the first chapters.

Phantom wouldn't have a reason to behave like he did, youre right (may i remind the jury that it was 4 an stupidity in half of that rant) But we're both in ageement that phantom does not recreate bobbys personality accurately.

I still support my earlier point that people, when they imitate someone they dont fully know, still exaggerate certain elements of a persons personality. It's an actually studied thing (god knows in which one of my books i read that one, tho)

When someone doesn't fully know a person (which phantom mightev not known much about since... DID YOU TELL ME WEITHER OR NOT HE WAS REASERCHING ON UR 1 OR NOT. I MENTIONED IN THE POST THAT I FORGOT IF THIS PART IS TRUE OR NOT AND IM FORGETTING AGAIN)

Anywayyyyyys.

Lets for the sake of argument say that he did (ill provide an argument if he didnt too dw)

If he did, or didnt: phantom either wouldn't have had that much time to study his behavioral patterns, and even if he did and had physical tapes of how he acted, people STILL exaggerate behaviours of people theyre imitating even if they know word for word what the person theyre imitating does.

I retract my statement that he makes the meaner part of the personality more intense and replace it with:

I think he might be accenteuating both parts. hence why it felt so un-natural for me behaviour wise.

If his personality were to be toned down all around, it would make more sense.

Also, about the rehabilitator thing. Bobby was technically at least implied to be assigned to simon in some way, hes in charge of making sure simon doesnt lash out in court and keep him under check, many many times talks bout how he wants to and will work towards rehabilitation for simon no matter what(check ch 2 1st trial day one) and simon is seen only with bobby as a handler after ch 2 (from what i remember). So yes, I'd say he has a rehabilitators/handlers license. As you need one of those to. Yk. Rehabilitate and handle criminals (at least in my country and japan from what i remember. But i COULD very well be wrong so correct me if so)

And also id like to say sorry if you thought my comment about "i hate this thread" was meant to insult it. I meant it in a i hate the overall idea behind some of the points there, and even then, it was wrong for me to say, and i do apologize. Your thread is amazingly constructed and i do believe i couldve handled it with more tact.

I have way more thoughts, but I'd actually rather discuss these one on one because i actually like having discussions with you, you are very smart and challenge my own ideas well, and i hope you feel the same way, mr river man 🙏

Again, sorry for my rudeness, i had the worst day yesterday, and literally passed out right after writing the first one.

The Real Bobby Fulbright and Morality

Hey hey! I am back with yet another analysis post, this time focusing on Fulbright's morality! I often see fanon interpretations of him - that are super fun! - but I also feel like they focus on the positive aspects of his personality and avoid the darker ones, so I will be rambling about that under the cut! Enjoy B)

Before we get into specific examples, it is worth pointing out that this analysis is based off of:

The theory that Dual Destinies didn't originally have the phantom as the main villain.

That the phantom was included later in the story after several chapters were already finished.

The theory that Dual Destinies was going to deal with darker themes before it got altered.

Now, although I have more detailed arguments on why I believe in these points, this post is not about that (Though if anyone wants to hear my thoughts about it, I'd love to yap about that in another post ^^). In a nutshell, Fulbright's behaviour changes in between cases, in a way that suggests that his character was revamped. I believe that Fulbright was originally written without the phantom in mind.

Thus! While his character might've had his purpose shifted, if my belief is correct, then The Monstrous Turnabout - the first case with Fulbright - is the most accurate glimpse into what the real Bobby Fulbright was like. Yes, we are meta analysing it up in this house!

Via the assumption that The Monstrous Turnabout has the original idea for the real Fulbright, we can make some interpretations of what he's like, despite the canon saying it was the phantom impersonating him! ^^

So, onto actual examples (lovingly chosen from my transcript) and analysis!

Starting off strong, we first meet Fulbright with him wanting to arrest Apollo and Athena. Yes, there is the potential reasoning of "disturbing a crime scene", but the lawyers had only just gotten there. They had done nothing wrong. That is unlawful arrest! Them coming to the crime scene had several explanations, and yet Fulbright won't even hear them out:

[???] “Hey, who are you and what are you doing here? This is a crime scene!”

[AJ] “And who are YOU? Are you with the police?”

[???] “I asked first! Who are YOU and what are you doing here?! On second thought... I’m placing you under arrest for disturbing a crime scene!”

He prioritizes lunch over actual, genuine justice here, not even bothering to hear them out. He only changes his tune after finding out that they're lawyers. Even then, he doesn't allow them to investigate. Though that is what all Ace Attorney detectives do, I think the subtle threat that comes afterwards is important.

[AJ] “Ack! Under arrest?! B-B-But...”

[???] “Save it for the boys back at HQ! Now, come quietly or else! I don’t want to be late for lunch!”

Yes, he never pulls out a gun in the series (besides attempting to do so in Turnabout for Tomorrow as the phantom), but I believe that the inherent threat and power that Fulbright holds in this situation is worth mentioning. Apollo's assumption that Fulbright could pull out a gun is also quite telling in my opinion. Fulbright is a cop at the end of the day.

[BF] “Cease and desist at once, or you’ll have to deal with my little friend here!” { Hand goes to his holster }

[AJ] “Ack!” (Yikes! Is he reaching for his...?!)

[BF] “In justice we trust!” { Shows badge }

[AJ] “...!” (Phew, it’s just his badge.)

[BF] “This door simply will not open! We’ve tried and tried, but it won’t budge! It’s an essential part of the culture found in this manor, so we can’t blow it up either!”

The next concerning aspect I've found, is the seemingly normalized use of excessive force. The only reason they're not blowing up the door is because of its cultural significance. That is insane! It can be argued that it's not Fulbright's decision, however, the lack of reaction from everyone involved signifies to me that this is the norm.

With this moment, I wish to point out Fulbright's black & white thinking. I acknowledge that this is consistent for all detectives in the series, but it is a piece of characterization that is very important - Fulbright is very quick to call Tenma a villain, evil, a fiend. Thinking that someone is guilty and thinking that someone is evil are quite different imo.

[AJ] “So you still think Mayor Tenma is responsible?”

[BF] “That’s right! Damian Tenma is an evil fiend who must be banished from this world! Now, take my hand and together we will defeat this evil!”

[BF] “I won’t fall for that, you shameless rascal! I only help good little boys and girls!”

In general, Fulbright tends to think in an us vs them mentality - the people he likes are good, while the ones he dislikes are bad. He helps good people and puts away bad people. In a sense, yes, that's what a cop is supposed to do.

[BF] “Ha ha! My investigations are as thorough as they are foolproof, or my name isn’t Fulbright! I vow to resign immediately if I ever make a false arrest!”

However, this line paints a grim picture. Fulbright implies that he has never made a false arrest. That is statistically impossible, and implies that he has not only made false arrests before, he has also managed to get them convicted! The fact that the first time we meet him, he tries to arrest us only amplifies this point!

[BF] “What?! Are you questioning my sense of justice?!”

When he is confronted with an argument against his beliefs, he hides behind justice. In a way, he hides behind his badge, the very item that allows him to make the decisions on who is being painted as guilty, and who is not. In fact, he doesn't even question his beliefs.

[BF] “Prosecutor Blackquill! We’ve had enough of your hijinks! The foundation of justice is fair play, and you are in serious violation of that!”

And finally, the so-called 'jolts of justice'. I've seen arguments in the past claiming that the real Bobby Fulbright would never use electrical shocks on Blackquill. I politely disagree. Considering all the previous examples, I think it aligns with his behavioural patterns and is the epitome of his morality.

And thus, I would like to briefly propose my personally crafted theory about Dual Destinies: The game was originally going to delve into darker themes, and Fulbright's corruption was at the center of that.

Yes, Fulbright believes in justice, in good and bad. He has good intentions. But at the end of the day, he is a cop that holds power over others and justifies his wrongdoings with... well, justice. So long as he believes that he is doing the right thing, he is willing to reach for extremes.

I think this is often missed due to Fulbright's comical mess ups and overall cheery and charming demeanour. The characters don't really react to his more... extreme decisions either.

Consider a world where the phantom was not the main twist of the series, but some aspects remained. Such as... The tampering with evidence... Abusing police position to cover up a crime... Framing innocent suspects... It fits into the previously showcased negative traits of his.

Ergo, the real Bobby Fulbright might not be as justice-driven as many may believe. There are many details that tend to get overlooked when it comes to him, especially in fanon. Which is fine and good! It is comforting to think of a policeman that does his job properly. However, I also find this darker side absolutely fascinating and worthy of discussion.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this silly analysis post! Do feel free to argue or ask questions, I love a good debate and I love yapping <3

#rambles #long post #aa5 spoilers #again im really sorry for insulting your original post.#i dont think that you didnt have basis i think you misunderstood me.#i meant that you hadnt discussed it in thenog post #the way you phrase and explain things is very well thought out i just hope we can come to an agreement!!!#again im vry sorry

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mickules · 4 years ago

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ASK DUMP

But first:

OOPS [for context]

My hand slipped.

Yous all ready for a MAMMOTH ask post? I mean it this is LONG

[edit: completely forgot to add the ‘read more’ rip your dash this is L O N G]

(next set of asks are [here]! in smaller bites this time)

Honestly I’m kinda boring when it comes to headcanons, they’re mostly canon compliant or I end up floating about on the general consensus of popular fanon. Here, however, is a bunch of little titbits!

~Hifumi draws like Boichi. The idea he has a super detail oriented style and not a cutesy one cracks me up.

~The difference between Taeko and Celeste; those colour contacts are prescription. (Taeko doesn’t look too dissimilar to Toko and she hates that)

~Likewise, Gundham takes forever to get ready as he re-applies the “wards necessary to allow mere mortals to withstand the presence of The Supreme Overlord of Ice”

~Kazuichi on the other hand is au naturale. He just looks like that.

~Hiro is right, where do you think his clairvoyant abilities came from?

~Taka has had to shave every morning since he was 13, (he looks like Masaaki Sakai from Monkey if he grows it out) Mondo will never be able to grow any facial hair, and he’s salty about it. His hair is naturally curly but he straightens the back for that Pomp Aesthetic

~Taka is a very restless sleeper, never wakes up in the same position as he went to sleep. At Hope’s Peak he usually finds himself waking up across the room, on the floor.

~Additionally, He eats like a gannet - maximum efficiency (until he gets indigestion) [more on this]

~Red eyes and a diabolical resting bitch face is the dominant trait of the Ishimaru Bloodline. (POV trying to have a casual conversation)

~Takaaki is a divorcee not a widower; his marriage was an arranged one organised by Toranosuke, and when the scandal went down the marriage was dissolved by the bride’s family. [more on this]

She was 5′3′’

Takaaki just wants someone tall enough so he can take a nice photo (I had to google ‘no homo with socks’, I hope you’re happy)

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30% of Takaaki’s intimidation is his height, the rest is his Glare™

Ah! I can understand the confusion! That was actually an older Mondo, as the anon had asked about Kaito being Mondo and Taka’s kid. I’m easy going when it comes to pairing characters together, I don’t mind answering questions along that vein! I love to see other people’s interpretations, and how they imagine a relationship develops. I’ve seen some absolutely adorable art of them as a couple! Personally however, I don’t have a good idea of their chemistry in my head, so I don’t think of them as being together. At the very least not in this weird AU thing I’ve got going on.

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Bold of you to assume Takemichi hasn’t been keeping it a secret. Not out of fear or shame, but rather because Michi would do anything to keep nosy, overbearing, meddling Daiya out of his love-life. He’s seen how Daiya absolutely ROASTS Mondo every-time he strikes out, and Michi ain’t about to open himself up to that. I imagine Daiya finds out whilst frequenting a gay bar- like that Doctor/Donna Doctor Who scene:

He is then resolutely recruited as a Gay Consultant™

They become very popular regulars. (tags got me creasing)

@hawklanthebard

You’re not wrong - that’s a fabulous concept, but they’re gonna have to catch him first. Surviving middle school gave Taka an unusually highly developed intuition for trouble and an excellent default flight or fight response

Mondo having to deal with his gang associations negatively effecting his ‘civilian’ life and friends? *Chef’s Kiss*

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Taka with his wooden sword would be a sight to behold. Unfortunately, I doubt brandishing a sword would be welcome in a school environment - so he’d unlikely use it for anything other than exercise. ISHIDA ON THE OTHERHAND

Hifumi might have had a bit more trouble

@emiefaunwrites

(Thank you so much! That’s so very sweet! I’m glad you like! :D) SO I didn’t originally have a timeline when I started making the comics, but NOW I do, so it’s a bit of a mess lol! BASICALLY: ~Daiya survived the bike crash ~Mondo & Taka go to Hope’s Peak ~They become friends (I have a comic planned for this, and it’s NOT a sauna scene *wiggles eyebrows*) ~[The Yakuza Incident] this is when Mondo catches feelings, but chalks it up to the adrenaline of the situation ~[Mondo meets Takaaki] and [makes a great impression] ~Daiya is introduced to Taka, and gives him “The Shirt” unbeknownst to Mondo ~Taka has his own Gay Panic™ (this is another comic comin’ in the pipeline!) but he doesn’t recognise it for what it is. ~[Takaaki finds The Shirt, and him and Daiya make their plan] ~[The Hershey’s Kiss Incident] Mondo has to ask himself some PRETTY SEARCHING questions after this, whilst Taka has to wrestle with the revelation that if Mondo asked for a kiss, Taka would not hesitate to do it. ~ and Finally, eventually, a Confession (this is another comic, but it’ll deffo be a while before this one is done)

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@crackinwise

Takemichi sees the Oowada brothers as a single unit - he is 'second’ to both of them. So, whilst Mondo is at Hope’s Peak, Takemichi defaults to keeping an eye on Daiya to give Mondo some piece of mind, since Daiya still a target for rival gangs. Takemichi’s title of ‘second’ is just a formality of the gang. Daiya doesn’t really go in for the hierarchy stuff, but it’s the gang that insists on it and Mondo unfortunately really internalised it. From the gang’s perspective, you have the suave leader, his sharp, loyal 2nd in command and his volatile brother he has to reign in, when in reality Daiya delegated a lot of his responsibilities to Mondo and Michi over time, and was more a figurehead than an actual leader by his retirement.

(I’ve got some more Leon in a future comic - have a peek, he’s got such a cheeky face) [this comic is now done!]

Mondo’s unsuccessful romantic attempts are the favourite gossip topic of a surprising amount of class 78 tho’ not within earshot of Mondo obviously - They’re secretly cheering him on but they also have a betting pool based on how quickly he’ll scare the girl away. Celeste has made a very tidy profit.

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Taka is 100% the type who’d inform the mcdonald’s cashier that they gave him too many nuggets and try to pay the extra. He’s IMPOSSIBLE to do a favour for.

[persona ref here]

@chinchillasinunison

I agree, Mondo in specs is A+, but yes, ‘tis a persona reference. I FULLY recommend Persona 4 if you get the chance! It’s a JRPG, but the ‘dungeons’ are people’s psyches, and when they’re inside they have to confront a ‘shadow’ which is basically some aspect of themselves they’ve repressed or heavily dislike. The stress of being in the dungeons causes people to get dizzy and confused, and the glasses stop that- it suggests Mondo has already confronted his own shadow, before Taka had to confront his. . .

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That’s some excellent analysis right there! Taka 100% has some deep seated issues to do with his relationship with control. I think his new friendship with someone so far outside his understood norm of ‘acceptable’ would have rattled some of those insecurities loose. There would be an inherent need for Taka to try to ‘improve’ Mondo’s behaviour - to try to make Mondo more “acceptable to society”, the way Taka was taught to be. But by doing so, he would be removing something that makes Mondo who he is. It would come down to an internal fight of being a hypocrite for overlooking Mondo’s anti-social behaviour, or trying to control Mondo and making him into something he’s not. Taka would hate himself for not being able to accept Mondo wholesale, the way he wishes people would accept himself, and the way he knows friends SHOULD do - basically a microcosm of the wider span of his anxiety with his chosen path and future.

(ahhhh! !Thank-you! That’s supremely kind! I’m still really enjoying the Dangan stuff, and if I move on to other things and folk don’t vibe with it - It’s all good! No worries! My only goal on this tumble is to enjoy myself, and so far that ain’t changed :D)

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NOICE! Excellent recommendations I’m lovin’ them! Always happy to get more! 👀

Also, from that DR chatfic:

“TAIL ‘EM NAEGGI”

I have been outdone.

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(AH! You flatter me! I’ll keep on tryna be cool!) [pic is here!] Daiya and Takaaki being casual allies is definitely a dynamic I really enjoy; Crazy Crafters is such an enjoyable fic! All the little interactions and character chemistry works so well together! Chasml’s fics are ones that I keep coming back to - I ADORE Their characterisations.

@rc-hetalia-mun

Dang you right, Honestly I needed a kid and his mum for the Crazy Crafters [pic] and Hiro has such a fun design; it was inevitable.

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(AH! Thanks!! What a compliment!! :-0 !! ) Normally, someone as jacked as Mondo would have a craggier face, not unlike Sakura’s sharp nose and defined cheekbones - but he’s got surprisingly soft features, I think those big eyes and long tapered eyelashes really add to it.

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(!!!!!THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!!) Taka doesn’t even smile that much in his in game sprites but I CANNOT HELP IT! He has such a wide, welcoming smile and I LOVE DRAWING IT!!

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(Thank you! I loved doin’ it!) All credit 100% goes to @monikamarkovova They have the most SUPREMELY FLUFFY MOTHMEN art and I am in AWE, I cannot compare. I do not know how they do it. [here for ref]

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(ahh! <3 thanks very much!) Here’s a bit of a behind the scenes! I do all my sketches in colour ‘cos I find it easier on my eyes. I have trouble telling the difference between colours of a close tone, so it’s easier to see when distinguishing between the sketch and the black lines when I’m doing lineart. Red just happens to be my go to since it’s quickest to get to on the colour slider and I’m lazy. The sketches you see are pretty much 1 to 1 what I use for lineart, minus the half tones. If I have multiple sketch layers, I’ll use multiple colours so I can see easier, but usually I do all my sketches directly on my guideline layer because I’m a madman. Here’s a coupla examples:

here’s a rare one where I didn’t draw directly onto my messy af guidelines- but I always start with red, then blue, then green and very occasionally purple if I need a fourth.

I keep the mini-comic sketches in red since I think it looks better. Black is harsh and can be unforgiving and I think it makes it easier to see how rough my sketches are. In colour it’s a little softer - and to me - more pleasing to the eye! (and even when I do use black- it’s usually at partial opacity to soften it out)

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AND cos I’ve been watching too much Natsume Yuujincho (FULLY RECOMMEND it’s delightful) Have a quick redraw:

As my brother described it “Kiyotaka and his Fat Biker Cat”

And that’s it for now! The ask box is nice and empty, thanks for so many brilliant asks and sorry it took so long! I’m working on ‘Taka and Mondo becoming friends’ comic and ‘Taka gets a clue’ (edit: this one is [done]) comic, and I hope neither will take too long! :)

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m0r1bund · 3 years ago

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[Image: The monk, Makame Asanttu, out on the ash tundra. He clutches the heart of a dead god and struggles through an ash drift. The weight of his burden hangs over him like an impenetrable shadow; long has the Great Beast of All Men waited for his heart to be returned to him. Or so it seems, anyway.]

◆

For some reason, our man Makame Asanttu and The Great Beast of All Men wrestled me into a chokehold and made me draw them for 3 or 4 days.

For those who don’t know: Makame is a monk from the city of Basedt, which has been isolated from the outside world for 100 years by an eternal storm and a hateful ash tundra. Cinte is the god who created the storm, the tundra, and a lot of other very bad things. Everyone hates him and he hates everyone. And I guess Makame does too, until he doesn’t. You can read more about Basedt and its characters here.

Anyway. It’s been a long time since I last talked about them and things change, so get ready for diction with a side of pictures. You know how it is with Basedt.

◆

This was the first piece I drew so I guess it’s a good one to get caught up to speed with.

Makame is part of Basedt’s Stormwall, or Wall Watch. The Watch keeps an eye on the wall that surrounds Basedt, which keeps the ash tundra out and a relatively normal vestige of the old world in. They’re also the only individuals permitted to leave the city and study the world outside.

Makame is a ranking monk (”captain”) of the Stormwall, and probably the only person in Basedt to spend as much time as he has in the ash tundra and come back alive. Even among the pariahs of the Stormwall, he’s considered a weird person, very “woods-touched.”

He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He’s ornery, asocial, and perfectly comfortable being alone for long stretches of time, traits which make him a great woodsman and a bad leader. He’s mostly in this position because it gives him freedom to do what he will, and because Basedt doesn’t have a choice; He’s the best man they have in figuring out what the hell is going on outside the city walls.

It’s unsurprising, then, when Makame becomes the target of powers outside the wall that he barely understands. His time in the tundra catches the attention of the Manazthati, a death cult trying to rebuild the shattered god who brought the sky crashing down on them. They identify a certain… uh… morbid fascination with the abyss in the monk, and use that to manipulate him. Through this, he is compelled to recover the heart of the dead god, Cinte, which is interred somewhere in Basedt.

It is the only fragment of Cinte that they have no hope of recovering by themselves; the Manazthati are barred from Basedt as outsiders. So, preying on Makame’s sense of faith and unique brand of Basedti ignorance seems like a straightforward path to an easy victory.

‘Course, things don’t always go according to plan. Makame does recover the heart, but when he takes it outside of Basedt, it quickly becomes apparent that this was a Very Bad Idea. He takes it where he has been compelled to take it, but he does not do as he has been compelled to do. Instead he takes off into the woods, disoriented, and the inveterate woodsman becomes lost for the first time in his memory ▶︎

Edit: ACK. my mental draft of this included something that I forgot to add until just now! The hand-shaped boughs of the black woods are inspired by this piece of giftart that Charcoal / flugmunk did for me :)

#makame asanttu tag #cinte tag #basedt (story) tag #ash tundra tag #black woods tag #manazthati tag #basedt tag #stormwall tag #god we havent even gotten to the cws yet #content warning: disembodied human heart #content warning: blood --#content warning: gore --#content warning: cults mention --#maybe.

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frickenfaded · 3 years ago

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--SFW--

This is my first headcanon ever. It's kind of a headcanon anyway.. This is how I think the Feral Boys would react to (f!) Reader getting mad over something stupid while she's on her period.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Dream

It was about midday and {Y/n} had to force herself to get out of bed to retrieve food. She decided she would get cereal and return straight to her blankets. Once in the quite kitchen, she reached up in a cabinet and grabbed a bowl, however she accidentally set it down way too hard and the brittle glass bowl shattered everywhere.

She was absolutely enraged. All she wanted was a bowl of cereal and *this* is what she gets? It didn't take long after to hear the thomping footsteps of her boyfriend coming down the stairs to see what the commotion was about. {Y/n} stood with her arms crossed, about to make a move for the broom. "Fucking damnit." She cursed, unbelievably mad at the smallest event.

Dream ended up beating {Y/n} to the broom, sweeping up the shards of glass that littered the tile. He was being extremely careful and thinking his words over before speaking. He knew she was in her period, and that meant she gets angered easily and doesn't like being clung onto by anyone during the week. However, he recognized that she still appreciates his presence.

He steps a little closer, giving a small forehead kiss to his girlfriend before resuming the cleaning. "Baby, if you want too, you can lay in my bed while I edit. I'll clean this up and bring you some cereal." He suggested. "How did you know I even wanted cereal?" She asked. "Because, that's normally what you crave." He answered. She thought for a moment before deciding to take him up on his offer. "Thank you, baby." She mutters before heading upstairs.

George

The relationship between {Y/n} and George was still fairly new, this being their third month together. Therefore, he still isn't exactly sure what his girlfriend needs during her special time of the month. However, he's sort of getting the idea. It's just a bit tricky for him to know for sure when she's going through it, because she doesn't tell a soul. She leaves them guessing, taking pride in it even.

But this time was a little different. She was laying down in bed, trying to read the book "Water for Elephants" by Sara Gruen, when the realization struck her that she was currently using her last (pad/tampon/other). She didn't want to leave her bed, much less her house. She angrily closed her book and slammed in down on the nightstand, thinking over her options in her mind.

George just happened to be passing by her door whenever she slammed her book. It startled him a little, but he entered her room nonetheless. Although she heard him come in, she refused to tear her focus away from her thoughts. George knew something was up a couple days ago. The possibility of her monthly happening was a thought, but he wasn't 100% sure.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, walking over to the edge of the bed before sitting down. "No." She immediately answers, crossing her arms over her chest. She still didn't really want to give in that easily, though. She still had her pride, despite her situation. "What happened?" He wondered. "Nothing." She replied, avoiding his careful gaze.

"C'mon, Love, we both know that isn't true." He says, softening his tone of voice. She almost instantly melts into his stare. She huffs out a breath, however desperate to keep her silence. He treads lightly, brushing a strand of messy hair from her face, whilst caressing her cheek in the meantime. She finally gives way, breaking through to him as if a dam just broke. "Fine." She states.

He smiles, knowing he won without asking the question that would set him up for failure. "I'm on my last (pad/tampon/other) and I don't want to leave the house." She explained. George breaks into a small fit of laughter. "Was it really something that simple? That's nothing compared to what I thought was wrong. But I can get you what you need, Love." He says, after narrowly avoiding a harsh glare. "Would you like anything else while I'm gone?" He wonders. "Hm.. Maybe some chocolate... Please." She answers. He nods before giving her a swift kiss.

Sapnap

Sapnap.. Is quite the special case, to say the least. He does n o t pick up on hints very well... Which leaves him very lost and confused when his girlfriend all of the sudden starts acting a lot different than normal and suddenly more distant with him. She didn't exactly mean too, it was just what happens during her period.

He was scared that he did something wrong because of this, but he couldn't come up with a reason why. Did he leave the toilet seat up? Maybe he accidentally ignored her? What if he forgot about something they were supposed to do? Dear God, did he forget their anniversary or her birthday or something? Despite what he thought he did, he wanted to try and "make things right."

He entered her bedroom as she watching a John Mulaney special on Netflix. He stood beside her bed. "Hey, could we play Pokémon together?" He asked. "No. I don't feel like it." She didn't mean to add the annoyed tone to her voice, but she did. She was just annoyed in general. "D-Did I do something wrong?" He asked, scared of her answer. It was then when she realized she was being short with him and distant.

She sighed, knowing she owed him an explanation now. "I'm sorry, Darling. I didn't mean to come across like that. I'm just... cramping really bad today, and I'm really really really craving some ice cream, but I don't want to get up either." She explains, rambling just a little bit. He blushes a little when he realizes what was going on, but he quickly retrieves some ice cream for the both of them, before joining her in bed and finishing the John Mulaney special together.

Karl

Manz is prepared. I'm talking, he's got a secret box in his closet filled with everything she may need, from pads, to tampons, to chocolates, to a heating pad, he has it all. He's so dedicated to making sure he does everything right that he has a period tracker app on his phone to know when she's about to start. Therefore, he knows when he needs to back up and give you some breathing room.

So one day, when his girlfriend got very upset just because her phone died, he knew exactly why. "Do you need absolutely anything? I brought you a chocolate bar." He says when he hears the ruckus from her room. She softens up almost immediately, always touched by the way he knows what to do and say.

"Thank you.. Could you plug my phone up, please?" She asks. He happily jumps on the simple task, despite her charger literally being right beside her. "And maybe... could we cuddle for a little while too?' She wonders. He smiles brightly. "Definitely." He agrees, before slipping in bed with her as they start to watch Hamilton for the third time.

Quackity

Quackity seems to think it's comedy gold whenever his girlfriend gets infuriated by the tiniest things. He was sitting on the couch, watching something on the T.V., while {Y/n} came out of her room for the first time since today. She came to get a snack herself, not wanting to bother her boyfriend much.

But what she failed to notice as she was walking through the Living Room, was the Thanos doll that Quackity completely forgot to pick up earlier. And of course, she stepped on the damned thing. She yelped, almost falling over thanks to the toy. In a fit of rage, she picked the doll up and stomped over to one of the open windows, throwing it as hard as she could into the outside world.

Quackity could not stop laughing from the moment she stepped on the plastic toy, now laughing harder than ever because of it. "Shut up! It's your stupid fucking fault the thing was left there anyway!" She cursed, clearly displeased. He didn't listen, of course. "I-I'm sorry." He said through his laughter. As much as she wanted to stay mad, his laughter was contagious.

She ended up bursting with laughter as well, their voices mixing like milk and honey in the atmosphere. {Y/n} joined Quackity on the couch, laying across his lap as he played with her hair, the two starting to talk about random topics. She always went through a few days on her period where she was just a little more clingy than the others, but Quackity just learned to accept that. He wouldn't say it exactly, but he did actually enjoy it.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

That's it for this one lovelies! As I mentioned, this is indeed my first headcanon ever and actual content post I've posted on Tumblr. Therefore, I hope it wasn't too shabby. I'll get the hang of things soon, but for now, if you'd like to read any other things I've posted, the list is short, because I am pretty new here, but this option is available to you though this link:

My Creations♡

I hope you enjoy your stay here! Requests are always open! ♡♡

#feral boys #feral bois #dream smp #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #karl jacobs #quackity #big q #dreamsmp fluff #dream smp headcannon

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sweetjekyll · 4 years ago

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Under The Same Roof, part 1 — BBH

pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

genre: Roommate / Flatmate AU, one-shot, friends to lovers rating: teen and up warnings: none! tiny bit of fluff if you squint your eyes really hard word count: 1.2k

summary: Baekhyun and Y/N have been flatmates for a while and romance is in the air.

Requested by anonymous: keyword “roof” + sentence “Oh my God. You’re in love with her.” from this writing game post.

Masterlist — PART 2

A/N: this was supposed to be a drabble, but I told you I couldn’t contain myself once I reached the 600 words I went over lol. this may as well have a part 2 if many people request it, but for now I left it as it is cause I like the suspense. I edited the pic for this but I didn’t add a watermark, it took me a while to find something that sparked my imagination.

⟶ To my dear readers: feedback is highly encouraged and important! as it gives me motivation to write with more passion, knowing that you like what you are reading. Please LIKE and REBLOG so more people can find this and read it. ❤ My askbox is always open for questions or to chat ❤

Enjoy! ❤

You and Baekhyun have been flatmates for about a year now, he needed someone to help him pay rent after his previous flatmate moved in with his girlfriend last minute and you needed a roof over your head since you didn’t want to live in the dorms at your university… Too expensive. The apartment on the other hand wasn’t anything luxurious either, just a two bedroom, one bathroom and a combined kitchen and living space area, enough to house 2 people, even if it wasn’t exactly that cheap yet quite affordable.

Baekhyun was trying to save money from his full-time job as a barista and bartender in the local university cafe, serving coffee by day and alcohol bar by night, meanwhile you were a majoring student who was mostly focusing on her studies but worked part-time at the same cafe Baekhyun did. It had its perks choosing you as flatmate, Baekhyun already knew you were a good person and that you were in need of a place to stay, plus you got along well on the job too. It’s not like you could exactly sleep over at one of your friend’s places forever so when he offered to take you in you accepted without second thought.

But boy, oh boy, was Baekhyun ever the loud type; some days you thought you were going to march out of your room and smack him on the head cause you could not concentrate on your textbooks while he was playing games with his friends, others you actually joined him when you two were alone. As loud as he was, he was also a sweet introverted guy with a tendency to be a social butterfly despite his reserved nature, in fact, you were surprised to meet so many of his friends you could barely remember all of their names. Two hands weren’t enough to count them all.

You considered him a close friend, after all, you were living together under the same roof, Baekhyun was there for you when you needed a friend and you were there when he wasn’t feeling like going outside to meet with anyone else. He wasn’t sure when or how it happened, but at some point he started liking you more than just a friend. He liked everything about you, from the way you bickered about the smallest of things in the apartment such as not leaving dirty mugs in the sink after breakfast, the way your voice was barely above a whisper in the mornings with pouting lips and sleepy eyes, the way you smiled at him after a long tiring day of classes and work, the way you sometimes managed to keep up with his high energy, your friendly and caring personality… Only a few times has he truly seen you mad like a beast, but thankfully it was never directed at him.

Baekhyun was sitting crosslegged on the brown two-seater in the living room, playing some shooter multiplayer game on the PlayStation with some friends of his you’ve met before plenty of times, Chanyeol and Sehun. You let out a quick sigh as you hurried across the living area from your bedroom to the front door, dressed in your work attire, you scurried to put on your shoes. “Okay, I’ll be at the bar the whole night,” you said as you grabbed your coat, ready to walk out before you were late. “Have fun, don’t wait up for me.”

Baekhyun’s eyes quickly moved from the television screen as he paused the game, earning groans and scowls from his friends sitting on the rug with each their back pressed to the sofa. “I’ll come pick you up, just call me when you close down.”

You smiled at Baekhyun’s offer and pointed a finger at him playfully. “I swear if you fall asleep, Byun Baekhyun—“

“Promise I won’t.” He held out his right pinky finger for you and you moved closer to close your pinky around his, a small gesture of friendship you came up with when you once came home a bit tipsy from a night out with all your friends.

“Alright, good night. Bye Sehun, bye Chanyeol!” And just like that you closed the front door after yourself as you went to work.

Chanyeol exchanged a silent yet teasing look with Sehun but it didn’t last long as Baekhyun unpaused the game to resume from where they left. “Dude,” Chanyeol begun after a few minute of resuming the game, he wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to come back for something you forgot, “are you two like… Together?”

“What!?” Baekhyun exclaimed, but he got distracted from the question and barely safe one of his opponent taking down his character. “Me and Y/N? No, we’re just friends.”

Sehun put down his controller and turned his torse to look up at his older friend. “But you like her, right?”

Baekhyun had to pause the game again quite annoyed and this time looked at the two guys sitting on the floor. “We’re just friends.” He stressed on the last two words. He couldn’t really hide it, they could hear the disappointment in his tone even if he was trying to not give it away. “Nothing more.”

“Oh my god.” Chanyeol’s eyes widened, he too discarded the controller on the coffee table and turned his whole body to face Baekhyun from his spot. “You’re in love with her.”

“I’m not!” Baekhyun scoffed as he tried to resume the game but Sehun snatched the controller from his hands, holding it away while his friend protested with a whine. “Okay! Fine! I am head over heels for her.” He confessed as his body slumped against the backrest. “I just don’t want to ruin the friendship we have if I ask her out on a date.”

“You’ve been grocery shopping together, buying clothes and furniture, all of our friends think you’re together.” Sehun pointed out as he got up from the floor and sat on the two-seater next to Baekhyun. “You act like a couple any time you’re in the same room.”

“So why didn’t you guys say anything?” He asked seriously confused. Yes, you and him got along very well, but he didn’t think you were getting along too well in the eyes of your group of friends.

Chanyeol shrugged. “Cause we thought you wanted to keep it private until you felt like telling us.”

Sehun laughed softly, earning a glare from Baekhyun since he didn’t know what was going on in the head of the younger guy. “So that’s why you haven’t shown any PDA! I was almost beginning to admire your self restraint from kissing her or holding her hand when you’re in public.”

“Hey!” Baekhyun slapped him on his chest, earning a pained chuckled from Sehun. “Look, it’s just that I don’t know how to tell her…”

“Just ask her on a date,” Chanyeol said while giving one of Baekhyun’s knees a soft slap. “If you don’t I’ll ask her for you. Who knows, maybe she reciprocates your feelings?”

“That’s a strong maybe.” Baekhyun shook his head as he reached forward to grab his controller from the coffee table.

“I’m pretty sure she reciprocates.” Sehun added as he too turned his attention back on the game, meanwhile Chanyeol just smirked as his brain devised a plan. It would work out, Baekhyun and you just needed a little help from Cupid.

#exosnet #exonet #exo #exo x reader #exo x you #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #bbh #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun scenario #exo imagines #exo fanfic #baekhyun x you #chanyeol #sehun #roommate au #friends to lovers #under the same roof

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cecesxwickedxocsx · 3 years ago

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So I stayed up until 4 am watching Stranger Things Season 4 Vol 1 and- I have thoughts. Please note that below the cut there are spoilers

I don’t want Steve and Nancy. I keep thinking about the people complaining that Erica was shoehorned in and like- no. she was fine, great, love Erica. What was being forced in was the ‘romantic’ tension between Steve and Nancy and I hated every moment of it. Also why does Eddie- the guy on the run for a murder he didn’t commit and currently trapped in the upside down, something he didn’t know existed until a day or two ago- giving a flying fuck about the romance between Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler- two people he didn’t seem to really know or even like?

Eddie Munson is baby.

Erica is great, again, love her. I think she adds a level of humor that is hard to get from the other characters who are all actually traumatized children.

Dustin is great 10/10 no notes.

Why do they keep having Lucas be like- the one who abandons the friendship? Like??? In his defense, Mike and Dustin definitely weren’t there for his big moment because scheduling conflict but him so quickly lying about D&D and the hellfire club and then watching as the weird jocks beat the hell out of the other guys in the group like??? Other than that Lucas is amazing and I love him.

Max is a queen. Her taste in music is flawless. Also in the trailers it showed Billy’s grave reading Billy Hargrove and later reading William and I know some people had theories about that but in the actual show (so far) it only showed William so was that an editing error or like- I guess we’ll see in July.

Mike kind of sucks. idk what to tell you. Nothing on Finn, Mike is just kind of shit.

Robin’s gay panic is relatable. Her sudden added ‘quirkiness’ is- something.

I would like more Will. I feel like there wasn’t much of him in the season so far other than being angry at Mike- apologizing to Mike (As well as accepting Mike’s apology) and the painting we keep hearing about- which I’m not totally clear on where it is right now? Will packed it but I think they left their packs behind when being gunned the fuck down?

Winona’s face is 10/10. No notes.

The Hopper situation is a lot. Also I’m convinced the Russian guy is not making it to the end of the season.

Murray continues to be great. I would let him and his black belt hold my drink in the bar.

I totally called Grindelwald being 1. I also called him having something to do with the kids dying. However I didn’t predict Jace Wayland actually being the son of Victor Creel. Though in retrospect I should have. fuck Caius. Cheers to them copy pasting and recoloring Red Skull for Vecna’s design tho

Suzie’s family is Mormon, right? I mean they could be quiverfull fundies but like??? They’re in Utah. so?

Fuck Brenner and Owens.

all in all- I think this season just has way too much going on. I completely forgot about the satanic panic led by Preppy Billy and his band of merry hooligans up until I was writing this about Lucas. There was just so damn much to keep up with and while I’m sure it was all necessary to some degree I’m just like- not caring about certain parts of it and it’s a lot to keep track of. I’m excited for July 1st but damn.

also Again. No Nancy and Steve. Jonathan still exists, He and Nancy are still technically dating Like??? Just let them be a throuple or at least have Nancy and Jonathan break up before you push Nancy and Steve in my face.

#stranger things #stranger things spoilers #I had a lot of thoughts.

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1dfangirls35 · 4 years ago

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The Language of Your Soul

An enemies to lovers Ballet AU in 5 Acts

Masterlist

Act I

A/N:

First of all, thank you so much to @booksncoffee for the absolutely gorgeous banner!

I am so excited to share this story with you all! Inspired in part by a night rewatching Center Stage on Netflix and from years of ballet classes, I hope this AU brings a new twist on Harry fics (and maybe even helps you gain a new appreciation for the world of ballet). Please note, while I have used my own 10+ years of classical ballet training in addition to research on this topic to hopefully make this as realistic as possible, this is still a work of fiction- and some details may have been changed to better fit the constraints of the story. The companies mentioned in this fic are real, however this story and its characters are entirely works of fiction. On a more personal note, while I have chosen to publish this story now and believe I will be able to maintain weekly updates to its entirety, I am preparing to take my boards in less than four weeks. Should I not update as scheduled- please be patient and know that an update is only a few weeks away! :) Thank you so much for reading!

Warnings: This story will contain language, mentions of emotional abuse from a parent and eating disorders. Please read at your own discretion.

Ten Weeks to Opening Night

Albert Einstein once said, "dancers are the athletes of God." Giselle Mason certainly doesn't feel like pne of God's athletes at the moment. Not with the way her muscles are screaming with every movement that she makes as she stretches before class, not with the way her right hip cracks as she lifts her leg onto the bar, and certainly not with the way her feet sting as she tapes up yet another blister on her toe before shoving her foot into her pointe shoes for another day full of torture.

Giselle stands, sticking one last bobby pin into the bun of her nearly ebony hair and finding her spot at the front of the barre in the center of the studio. She grasps the wooden cylinder with her left hand before releasing her body in a forward bend, taking a deep breath in and then a deep breath out. There is a familiar ache in her hamstrings as she begins to stretch, which loosens ever so slightly with every breath.

And so begins her daily morning routine in the studio. Fifteen minutes of stretching before company class begins. Relaxing each hamstring, hip flexor and spinal muscle until a sense of calm washes over her body. Letting her mind drift into a thoughtless focus, preparing itself for the waves of choreography that would be coming in minutes. Typically, this time is quiet; the only melody present the rhythmic breathing of company members preparing for class. But today, the studio seems to be filled with an underlying buzz. And Giselle doesn't have the slightest idea why.

"I heard he slept with the artistic director's wife, so they kicked him out of the Royal," she hears one of the new corps de ballet members murmur.

"I mean have you seen him, I don't blame her for getting her hands on a piece of him," another girl giggles.

"Did you hear, G?" Caleb, Giselle's friend, whispers as he slides into a spot on the barre behind her, adjusting the black bandana keeping his signature black curls in place across his forehead.

"Hear what?" Giselle asks, removing her leg from the bar before reaching down to adjust the black leg warmer that had fallen down her calf.

"They've hired Harry Styles- you know from the Royal," Caleb adds as if Giselle hasn't heard of Harry Styles. Everyone who was anyone in the ballet world had heard of Harry Styles. A good chunk of the non-ballet world might even be able to point him out as that 'sexy male ballet dancer' from the Sports Illustrated nude edition.

Harry Styles was a rare kind of natural talent. The type of person that was put on this earth to dance ballet. His talent had landed him the honor of being the youngest person to be named a principal in the history of the Royal Ballet. And if the rumors were true, that talent had also landed him the reputation of one of the ballet world's most arrogant. Giselle had heard several stories about how the male dancer had been a terror to work with- demanding, rude, uncooperative. Giselle didn't doubt it- people of that skill and fame rarely developed without some sense of entitlement.

"Why would we hire Harry Styles, we've already got Viktor?" Giselle questions. This isn't the first time a rumor has circulated through the American Ballet Theatre company, and it certainly won't be the last time.

"Rumor is they want Viktor to retire," Caleb shrugged before stepping back to his place behind Giselle as Mistress Ivanova claps to gain the class's attention.

Giselle couldn't believe the rumors. Viktor Dmitri retiring from ABT? He was practically the face of the company. The man had been dancing for the American Ballet Theatre for over a decade. He'd been the principal ever since Giselle had joined the company as a corps de ballet member five years ago.

Giselle knew that retirement came early for a ballet dancer. Her own mother, the famous Natalia Korsakova, had retired at the age of 33 after a knee injury. Viktor had just turned 35, but he'd shown no signs of slowing down. She refused to believe that he was calling it quits. Or to believe that the board would be stupid enough to bring in someone with Harry Styles's toxic reputation into the company.

She shoves the thought aside. Viktor is in his usual place at the back of the studio and Harry Styles is nowhere to be seen. This was simply another piece of gossip threatening to distract everyone from the Swan Lake auditions tomorrow afternoon, and Giselle won't lose her focus. The auditions are too important.

Giselle Mason has dreamed of playing the role of Odette/Odile ever since she first watched her mother on stage at the age of four. It was one of her earliest memories of the theater- her mother twirling about in a bright white tutu that at that time Giselle could only dream of wearing. In fact, Giselle wasn't sure there had ever been a moment where her dream hadn't been to be a principal dancer at ABT, like her mother. She'd been in ballet shoes from the second she could walk, wore a leotard and tights more often than she'd worn pajamas, and didn't recognize herself in the mirror if her hair wasn't pulled back into a bun. She'd ate, slept and breathed the art form. But she supposed that all came with having a prima ballerina as a mother.

Natalia Korsakova was a ballet sensation. "One of the greatest to have ever danced," according to the New York Times at the time of her retirement. The world had come to watch her dance and she'd traveled it performing: Russia, Australia, London, Paris. You name the location and Natalia Korsakova had danced there.

When Giselle was growing up, she was constantly told how lucky she was to have Natalia as a mother. To have seen the shows she's seen, to have met ballet royalty, to have traveled the world. But Giselle never felt lucky. Not when she was the accident that put her mother's career on hold for almost a year. Not when her mother was gone for months at a time performing, missing recitals, parent days and school concerts. And certainly not when an injury forced her mother into retirement, shifting her focus from her own artistic talents to turning her daughter into her next protegee.

Much to her mother's dismay, Giselle was not the younger version of her mother. She was good, great even, but she was no sensation. Giselle made soloist in her fourth year at ABT, which was a feat all on its own, unless you compared it to her mother's two. Giselle lacked the raw, natural talent that her mother possessed. Instead of her mother's high arches, she had her father's averagely flat feet. Instead of her mother's uncanny ability to match the music, Giselle had spent hours counting eights in her head to get down a rhythm. Instead of looking effortless the first time she ran through a routine, Giselle spent hours in the studio after rehearsal, running through the choreography until it wasn't possible for her to get it wrong. Giselle had gotten to where she was because of her hard work, not her natural talent- something her mother would never let her forget. To Natalia Korsakova, Giselle would never measure up.

The Swan Lake auditions are Giselle's first real shot at landing a lead, especially with principal dancer Anna Elliot out with a back injury for the foreseeable future. Giselle wants this role more than anything. To prove to herself that she is capable of following in her mother's footsteps. And to prove to her mother that she is just as capable a dancer as she. For once in her life, she wants to hear her mother say not that she'd lost her spot or forgot to point her toes, but that she was proud of Giselle. Four words- that's all Giselle really wants.

"And will start first position, demi, demi, grand, demi and port de bra. Repeat in 2nd, 4th and 5th and then balance in fifth position arms in fifth," Mistress Ivanova barks, before gesturing to the pianist to begin.

Giselle focuses on her movements as the music begins. She tightens her core, elongates her neck and reaches her fingertips to the edges of her silhouette. Her legs quiver slightly as she bends her knees into the first grand plié, her mind focusing on maintaining her turnout.

"Relax that face Giselle," Mistress Ivanova corrects, as she makes her way around the room. "I don't want to see that this is work."

Giselle takes another deep breath, this time releasing her lips from their concentrated place and focusing on her breath. She lets the downtown Manhattan studio disappear from the background. Gone is the distant honking of impatient taxi drivers maneuvering their way through the New York City traffic. Gone is the light shining in from the full-length windows looking out at the city skyline- well what you could see of the skyline behind the crumbly brick building neighboring the school. There was nothing but the dancer, the barre and the music flowing gently through her veins.

"Beautiful lines Teagan, thank you," Giselle hears Mistress Ivanova say from across the room and she fights the urge to roll her eyes. Giselle has known Teagan Davidson since she was fourteen years old, when Teagan had moved from California to New York to join the ABT school. Over the course of a decade of competing for roles, partners and teacher's praises, the two had developed quite a rivalry. To Giselle, there was almost no better feeling than snagging a role that she knew Teagan also had her eyes on.

Giselle uses Teagan's praise as motivation to work harder, feeling the burn in her inner thighs as she pushes further into her grand plié in second. The role of Odette/Odile was hers, Teagan would have to settle for understudy.

The class is in the middle of their balance, Giselle's focus locked in on a spot just at the edge of the window at the rear of the studio when a loud bang reverberates through the room. Dancers drop their balance and turn their heads, looking to see who has caused such a commotion with their entrance.

"Mr. Styles, you're late," Mistress Ivanova snaps.

He is taller than Giselle imagined, and even from this distance she can see the definition in his arms through the black tank top that clings to his body. His hair is slightly disheveled, curling at the top. His face plastered into some cheeky grin, dimples present on both cheeks, like he knows exactly what he's doing, interrupting class like this. Almost like he's enjoying the attention. He throws his black messenger bag to the side before grabbing his ballet shoes and scurrying over to an open spot at the barre near the front of the studio.

"My apologies," he replies in a thick British accent. His tone sounds anything but apologetic.

"Damn, he's even better-looking in person than he is in magazines," Caleb mutters under his breath, eliciting an eye roll from Giselle.

"Well, I suppose after that entrance," Mistress Ivanova sighs, stepping to the front of the class. "Now is as good of time as any to announce that Mr. Styles will be joining our company as a principal dancer."

Gasps fill the room, and Giselle turns her head to look at Viktor, whose face is stoic after Harry's entrance. A low chatter fills the studio, everyone trying to figure out exactly what is going on. Would he get the lead in Swan Lake? Would he be understudying Viktor?

"Silence!" Mistress Ivanova shouts. "This chatter can wait until after class is over!" She turns to face Harry, her lips turned into a stern frown. "If you'll find a place at the barre Mr. Styles, we will continue our class."

Giselle watches as he slides into a spot at the front of the room, shooting a grin at the young company member behind him. Giselle rolls her eyes, returning her focus to the mirror in front of her. Two minutes with the company and she was sure Harry Styles was exactly who she thought he would be.

Giselle tries to forget Harry Styles is in class with them. Instead she focuses on her breathing, her turnout, the rhythm that comes from the pianist in the corner of the room. She watches the early morning New York City sunrise reflect off of the mirrors, leaving little spots of sunlight over the gray Marley floor. Everyone else in the company could focus on Harry Styles all they want, but she is only focusing on one thing- and that is landing the role of her dreams tomorrow.

But Harry Styles wasn't the type of person whose presence could be forgotten so easily.

********

Harry Styles isn't scared of a little attention. In fact, he typically thrives on it. That's why he is a performer after all. To Harry, there is no better feeling than knowing all eyes are upon you, that you are the center of attention, the focus of the room. Maybe that is a prideful and egotistical thing to say, but it is true. Everyone wants to feel important, valued, admired- and anyone who says otherwise is a liar.

But the attention Harry has been getting since he walked into the American Ballet Theatre studio a little over twelve hours ago has not been the type of attention he necessarily sought out. He knew there would be rumors, leaving the only company he had ever been a part of during his dance career was sure to draw up the best of them, but something about this felt different. It was the whispers. The stares. The way some members of the room were staring at Harry as if he was a god and a few wouldn't dare look in his direction.

Harry doesn't know what's come over him- this wavering self-confidence. Maybe it's this new place. This new country. Or maybe it's the fact that in the words of his agent, if he "doesn't get his act together" he will never dance at this level again. And if he's not dancing on the world's biggest stages, well, Harry might as well not be dancing at all.

Harry grabs his phone from the side pocket of his black messenger bag, connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker he found in the corner of the studio and presses play on his hip hop playlist. He needs something to drown out his thoughts, and classical music just doesn't cut it. As the beat begins to fill the studio, Harry lets the music take over his body and begins to dance.

Giselle tries to focus on her music, but there's the noise of a pounding bass in the background interfering with concentration. She's always the only one at the studio this late at night- that's why she comes- to be alone and without distractions.

She tries to ignore it, focusing on the one and two of the music as she fouettés. One and two, three and four, five and... a boom from somewhere in the building breaks her concentration and she falls out of her turn, letting out a groan. This could not be happening to her the night before auditions, and if she found out that Teagan was here trying to interfere with her practice...

Giselle makes her way down the hall, guided by the incessant bass that sounds like it belongs in the backseat of a teenager's car and not one of the most prestigious ballet studios in the world. When she turns the corner to enter the studio, it's not Teagan she sees but Harry Styles.

But he's not dancing. He's laying on the floor, wearing nothing but a pair of black athletic shorts that show off the god-like definition of his thighs. His signature butterfly tattoo stands out on the middle of his chest, beads of sweat dripping towards the center of his stomach, the bass vibrating the mirrors around him. He doesn't notice her at first. How could he with the music so loud?

"Excuse me," Giselle says loudly in an effort to get his attention. His body doesn't even flinch.

"Excuse me!" she yells this time.

Harry looks up. In the corner of the studio, towards the door stands a girl. Her almost black hair is pulled tightly back into a bun. Her thin arms are crossed like she's about to lecture him, and her lips are held in a tight line that looks anything but happy. The corners of Harry's mouth curve upwards in a grin, entertained by the fury that was seeming to come from her tiny body.

She taps her foot impatiently, like she's waiting for something. Harry realizes that she is- she's waiting for him to turn off his music.

He sighs, reaching over to his phone beside him and sliding one sweaty finger across the screen to bring the rhythm to a halt.

"Yes?" he asks expectantly, not bothering to move his body from his reclining position.

"Other people in this studio are trying to practice, you know. It's kinda hard to do that with this," she gestures into the air, as if trying to find an appropriate adjective to describe the torture that had been gracing her ears over the past half hour.

"Not a fan of my music?" Harry smirked.

"I'm not a fan of someone disrupting my rehearsal." Giselle spit back.

"Rehearsal? It's bloody 11pm."

"I know what time it is, and like I said, your music is interfering with my ability to practice." Giselle stares Harry right in the eyes. He doesn't intimidate her, and she's not going to back down until he agrees to turn down his music.

"Wasn't aware you were the owner of this studio," Harry taunts.

"I could say the same about you." Giselle moves her hands to her hips. Just agree to turn off the damn music, she thinks to herself, even though she knows at this point, it's not worth the time it will take to warm back up to continue practicing.

Harry sits up, grabbing a blue towel from inside his bag and wiping the sweat that remains off his forehead. "Fine, music's off. Continue your rehearsal. I'm too jet lagged for this shit," he stands, wrapping the towel around his neck.

"Thanks," Giselle says under her breath, before making her way back to her studio, where she knew she would be gathering her own belongings.

Harry groans, grabbing his bag from the floor and sliding it over his shoulder. You could travel halfway across the world and still run into the same entitled ballet brats who thought they ran the place. It's those type of people, company members and otherwise, that were precisely the reason he had left the Royal. Well, not that he had necessarily had a say in that scenario, but they had been the cause of all of his problems.

You just have to dance, Harry, he tries to tell himself. But Harry knows that as much as he tries, there's a lot more too it than that.

**********

“Gi!" Caleb exclaims, bounding down the hallway towards her without concern for anyone in his way. "Cast list is up."

Giselle gulps. She isn't sure that she is ready for this. The look of disappointment on her mother's face if she doesn't land the part. The list of corrections that her mother has come up with from watching Giselle's audition. "Now you see there, you've lost your center. You're never going to make that triple if you don't hold your center Giselle." The reminder that "you only have so many opportunities to prove your worth, before they move onto the younger, better version of you." It didn't matter to her mother if Giselle was the youngest soloist at ABT by five years. It didn't matter if nearly every other soloist had previously understudied for the role. Everything but a lead was a disappointment to Natalia Korsakova.

"C'mon," Caleb exclaims, and before Giselle has a moment to collect herself she's being pulled down the hallway by her arm.

And there it is. The thin, white piece of paper that holds the fate of her next ten weeks in its hands. When she looks at it at first, she thinks she must be dreaming. Because her name has never been on that spot on the list before. Not since she officially joined the company five years ago.

Odette/Odile- Giselle Mason

Sigfried - Harry Styles

She feels frozen. Like she's in a dream and she's paralyzed. It's what she's always wanted-this role and yet, suddenly it feels like a whole lot of pressure.

"You did it Gi," Caleb exclaims, lifting her up and spinning her around before Giselle even has a moment to look any further down the list. Giselle laughs, giddy with excitement. "New York will have never seen a more beautiful Odette."

Giselle rolls her eyes at his comment. Caleb, her friend since joining the American Ballet School at the age of six and partner for many years had always been her biggest cheerleader. In a way, he made up for what she didn't have in her mother.

"And you Caleb?" Giselle asks, realizing in her excitement that she had forgotten that her best friend also had a role in the this ballet.

"You're looking at the newest Benno," Caleb says with a grin. Giselle often wondered what it would be like to be like Caleb. To be happy with any role. To not care about his place in the company. To simply want to dance. Caleb had always been like that- relaxed, calm- the antithesis to Giselle who was always high strung and anxious. Perhaps that's why they'd always been such good friends, because they balanced each other perfectly. Giselle pushed Caleb when he needed some extra motivation and Caleb- albeit not always successful- tried his best to keep Giselle out of her own head.

Giselle watches as Teagan makes her way over to the board, her long black hair swinging from the ponytail at the crown of her head. She grins in slight satisfaction as she sees Teagan's face turn into a frown. Giselle turns and gives Caleb her best, "what did she get?" eyes. He exaggeratedly mouths, "UNDERSTUDY".

As if sensing that she is the topic of conversation, Teagan looks over at the two. "Congrats Giselle," she says, her face moving in a way that makes it seem like the words taste disgusting leaving her mouth.

"You as well," Giselle responds, to which Teagan only scoffs and storms off.

"You know she's going to make your life living hell as your understudy don't you?" Caleb said with a laugh.

"Ugh, I know," Giselle groaned.

"It will be worth it though. You are going to be dancing the role you've always dreamed of." Giselle smiled. "Plus," Caleb begins, leaning down so his mouth is next to Giselle's ear. "You get to dance with the greatest male dancer of our generation. Think of all the hours you're gonna get to spend looking at that GORGEOUS body."

Giselle groans. Her perfect moment temporarily ruined by the realization that she would have to dance with Harry Styles. Sure, he may be talented, a great dancer, and likely a great partner. But his entrance yesterday and their encounter last night told her everything she needed to know about Harry Styles. And she was sure that working with him would be anything but easy.

"That GORGEOUS body," Giselle imitates Caleb with an exaggeration of the word, "Doesn't make up for the fact that the guy's an asshole."

"Okay, okay, point taken. Now can we go get some lunch?"

Giselle nods, but she already knows she's not hungry. Instead, all she can think about is how she's going to get through the next ten weeks of rehearsals with a man she already loathes.

**********

Giselle slides into the rehearsal studio with extra joy in her step later that afternoon. She's so on Cloud 9 that she doesn't even realize Harry standing at the barre doing pliés as she hums the opening notes of Swan Lake aloud.

"Sorry didn't know anyone else was in here already," she apologizes quickly, standing and stretching out her feet.

Harry looks at her, his face hard and eyes sharp. If he recognized her as the girl who interrupted his jam session last night his face didn't show it. "And who are you?" Harry asks, his voice laced with condescendence.

"Odette," Giselle smiles, the words feeling foreign leaving her mouth.

"Obviously," Harry scoffs, and Giselle feels her confidence waver. "Who are you?"

"Giselle Mason, soloist."

"Doesn't ring a bell," the corners of Harry's mouth turn up at his comment, like he gets satisfaction out of reminding others that they aren't the household name that he is.

Giselle wants to say something back. Something sharp and witty to show him that just because he was one of the greatest dancers in the world and she was still trying to make her way into the spotlight didn't mean that he could treat her like a nobody. She was going to be his partner after all- whether he liked it or not. But then Gregory Alexander, ABT's Artistic Director, enters the room, clapping his hands and tells them they are about to begin on the Act II Pas de Deux and Giselle doesn't have a chance to say otherwise.

"As new partners you will need to put in the time to understand each other. Build trust. Anticipate the other's movement. Portray to the audience that you are a swan and a prince in love." Gregory moves his arms in the air theatrically, as if he isn't wearing a designer suit.

"Now I understand that the ten weeks we have to prepare before our season debut isn't an ideal amount of time to form a relationship with a new partner. But in this case, it simply must do." Gregory's face turned serious, the wrinkles on his forehead more defined as he furrows his eyebrows. "I expect that the two of you will put in the time outside of your scheduled rehearsals to work on this chemistry. Anna and Viktor will also be assisting with rehearsals and my hope is that they will also be able to assist the two of you with this transition."

"Gregory," Harry interrupts, then as if realizing he'd made a mistake, he corrects himself. "Sir."

Gregory nods.

"I'm not sure what the concern is. I've danced with hundreds of partners in my career, I'm not sure how the other principal's would have much more experience than me?" Giselle thinks Harry is meaning this as a question but it comes out more like a statement.

Giselle watches as Gregory's eyes narrow again. He looked irritated, and why wouldn't he be? Harry had been here all but forty-eight hours and was already questioning the artistic director's decisions.

"That may be the case, Mr. Styles," Gregory paused. "But when the two of you step onto Metropolitan Opera House stage in ten weeks, I expect the audience to believe that you two have been dancing together for years. Have I made myself clear?"

Harry nods, this time remaining quiet.

"Now then, I'd like us to start with the Act II Pas de Deux. The very beginning- with your entrance Harry."

It's an hour into rehearsals when Giselle hears the echo of heels clicking down the wooden hallways. She doesn't even have to look up when the steps stop as they reach the studio floor. She could recognize that walk anywhere.

"Aahh, Natalia!" Gregory exclaims. "So glad you could stop by," Gregory reaches over to embrace Giselle's mother, his grey hair brushing the sides of her face as he kisses each cheek.

"Mr. Styles, I'd like to introduce you to Natalia Korsakova, former ABT principal and member of our board."

Natalia Korsakova looks as put together as always. Her dark brown hair pulled tightly into a neat French twist. Her tight black dress and coordinating pumps show off every bit of the dancer's body that she still maintained. Giselle watches as her mother's mouth curves to form a polite smile.

"A ballet legend. It's an honor to meet you Madame," Harry says offering his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine. I'm so glad you are joining us here at ABT. And what a joy it will be to watch you next to my daughter," Natalia gestures towards Giselle, with a polite smile plastered on her face that was generally reserved for generous donors and patrons of the ballet. It is all a show. That's all Giselle's mother ever did was put on a production. She was a performer after all, how could anyone expect her life to be anything but a crowd-pleasing performance?

"Your daughter?" Harry turns to look at Giselle, raising an eyebrow. His eyes narrow, as if he's caught Giselle in a lie. As if she'd snuck her way into this position and was just hoping that someone wouldn't notice she wasn't the real deal. "Why that makes this even more special."

Giselle fights every urge to roll her eyes from across the room. It is clear that Harry Styles is every bit as much of a performer as her mother. Just minutes before he was looking at her as if he had been paired with an amateur and suddenly working with her is 'something special'?

"I'm going to watch rehearsal for a bit," Natalia announces, making her way over to a stool next to the pianist. "Carry on." The pit in the bottom of Giselle's stomach grows as her mother takes a seat next to Gregory in front of the mirror.

"Odette makes sense to me now," Harry whispers into Giselle's ear, as he slides behind her to resume practice. It takes everything in her to keep her face stoic as Harry's hands settle once again on her waist.

Rehearsal goes badly. Giselle can't seem to get her leg into the attitude position that Gregory wants, she losing her balance on her penchés, and Harry almost drops her on several promenades. Giselle says almost, because someone as experienced as Harry Styles would never let his partner hit the ground, but she should have, because she surely wasn't holding her weight quite right. And then there's the fact that Gregory pronounced that Giselle "looks at Harry as if he is the villain of the story instead of the prince she's fallen in love with".

Giselle wants to say that's because he is the villain. The villain of her story anyways, the person that is somehow going to turn her dream role into somewhat of a nightmare. Why couldn't she be dancing with Viktor? He was so patient and kind and he would never look at his partner as if she deserved to be in the audience instead of on stage with him.

After yet another failed run through of the first half of the pas de deux, Gregory announces that they are done for the day, but that he expects to see them in the studio bright and early tomorrow morning to work on their timing. Giselle's never been so thankful for a rehearsal to be over, and as she sits down to remove her pointe shoes, running her hands over her swollen feet, she watches Harry leave the studio without saying a word.

"I hope you realize how big of an opportunity this is Giselle. It's not one you should take lightly," her mother's voice startles her, as Giselle had almost forgotten she was there. Almost.

Natalia stands above Giselle, one hand on her hips and the other on her forehead, as if watching today's rehearsal had been exhausting for her. It probably was exhausting for her, keeping tally of all the things that Giselle had done wrong for the past two hours. Natalia's voice is shrill as she speaks again. "There are thousands of ballerinas around the world that could only dream of getting to dance with Harry Styles. And here you are dancing with him in his first show with ABT. That's an enormous responsibility, darling. This performance with him will set the stage for his entire career with our company. One that the board is hoping will last until his retirement."

Giselle nods. That's all she can do when her mother begins one of her lectures- nod. She thought maybe this would be the time that her mother told her congratulations. The time that her mother did what she'd watched countless other mother's do during her time as a dancer, wrap their arms around their daughter and express their pride to them. But instead, today is like any other day, and even with a lead role in an ABT production, Giselle still hasn't done enough to make her mother proud.

Giselle shoves her shoes into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she stands.

"And Giselle?" her mother adds, as she makes her way towards the door.

"Yes mom?"

"Might want to hit a few more cardio classes this week too, my dear. Got to make sure you are going to be an easy dancer to partner with."

And with that comment Natalia Korsakova clicks away, leaving Giselle standing in the middle of studio wondering if her biggest dream has suddenly become her biggest nightmare.

#it's here!#let me know your thoughts #writingby1dfangirls35 #harry styles #hs #harry au #ballet harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #1dff #one direction fanfiction #harry fanfiction #enemies to lovers

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all1e23 · 5 years ago

Text

Chocolate Dipped

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Steve has finally had enough of these two idiots.

Warnings: Angsty stuff.

A/N: I am feeling better! Just in time to make you guys cry for Christmas. This is in Steve’s POV at the start. I think I grabbed everyon’s tags but I was pretty sick this week. If I forgot to add you please shoot me an ask and I’ll correct it today. Also, half edited. I got lazy. lol If you like it come sing me a song, write me a story or scream at me! This is the sixth part of my series Sugary Sweet. Make sure you catch up!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!***

“You goin’ home tonight, buck?”

Steve hung around the doorway to Bucky’s office, hovering like a worried parent. The small room was lived in. Two weeks have passed since they attended Stark’s gala, and Bucky made it a point to work himself to death every single day since. There were cartons upon cartons of takeout, guest pillows from his penthouse on the leather couch that sat under the large windows on the south wall, and Steve caught Bucky wearing the same white button-up three days in a row.

Bucky was avoiding something, and Steve had a decent idea of what that ‘something’ was.

“Hm?” Bucky mumbled, barely looking up from his computer as he did. “Uh, no. Not tonight. I want to get this done for the Danvers account.”

Steve sighed as he spun his keys around his fingers, debating how far he could push this before he drove Bucky away.

“We have people who do that now, Buck. Go home and get some sleep. Wash your hair.”

To Steve’s delight, Bucky looked up, humor lighting up his eyes and smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

“You sayin’ I look bad, Stevie?”

Steve forced through his concern long enough to grin.

“I’m saying you haven’t been home since you broke up with Y/n. Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”

Bucky’s smile fell the moment Steve said her name, and his eyes fell back on his computer. He wasn’t going to talk about Y/n or their arrangement. There was nothing to say. It was never a real relationship as much as Bucky wanted it to be, so there was no reason to treat it as such.

“I don’t have anything to say about it. There was no break-up. It was a temporary situation, and it’s passed. Let’s all move on with our lives.”

“Bullshit.”

“Goodnight, Steven.”

The quiet tug of the door and the hitch of the latch echoes in Bucky’s empty office, leaving him alone in the darkened building. He knew Steve was trying to help, but Steve wasn’t. Bucky didn’t need to be babysat. He needed to go back to that coffee shop, pay for your coffee, and walk away before he let his heart fall yours. Yeah, he knew sulking in his office wasn’t going to fix anything, but he couldn’t face going home. Your toothbrush was still hanging next to his, that drawer in his dresser was full of your clothes, and there was the picture of the two of you resting on the nightstand. Taking down the pictures in his office was bad enough; at least here, the sheets didn’t smell like you.

It has been weeks when the hell was he going to get over you?

Bucky really hoped it would be soon.

The bar was packed. No stool was empty, and the floor was full of kids half his age waiting for what was probably their first beer. Steve groaned. Dealing with grumpy Bucky and now this was completely unfair. The loud cheering made Steve wince as he pushed towards the middle of the crowd, it was hard to see through the crowd of twenty-year-olds, and he has never felt quite as old as he did at that moment.

When did he become this grumpy old man? He blamed Bucky.

Steve caught his wife’s whistle and grinned when he spotted her in one of those half booths that no one actually enjoys sitting at.

“How is he?”

Steve sighed and placed a kiss on her cheek as he squeezed into the seat next to her. That was a loaded question. He gripped his wife’s legs and pulled them over his lap, tucking her under his arm. Steve was going to make the most of the dollhouse-sized booth.

“He’s… a mess. I know he misses her, but he won’t talk about it. I’m not sure what happened, but I don’t think it was a clean break like he’s making it sound.”

“Do you think she left him?”

He shook his head.

No, Steve knew Bucky well enough to know guilt when he saw it.

“I think Bucky didn’t speak up when he should have is what I think, and maybe she got tired of waiting to be more than a game.”

Steve took a sip of Sharon’s red wine and made a face. She grinned and ran her fingers through his bread, scratching gently until he hummed softly and leaned into her touch.

“Well, I think,” Sharon whispered, watching the sleepy smile tug at Steve’s lips. “We are stuck sitting at the bar. The dining room is full of what appears to be teenagers. Somehow when we weren't looking, we became the oldest people in the room. It's a tiny booth or share a table with strangers.”

“That’s alright. We can stay right here.” Steve nudged her chin up with two fingers and smiled. “I like being stuck with you.”

“You think that sweet talk is going to get you somewhere?”

“Pretty confident. Bucky taught me all I know."

Steve grinned and pecked her lips.

A loud voice interrupted Steve’s train of thought and he couldn't help but listen in.

“Look, if fancy man bun can’t see how awesome you are, then you don’t need to waste your time on him.” Steve tried to fight his smile. Whoever that was, he wouldn’t mind sharing a table with them.

“But… I think I love him.”

Steve froze when he heard your voice, and he subtly peeked over his shoulder to find you sitting at a table nearby. You weren’t alone. There was a blond guy he didn’t know, his arm was around your redheaded friend that scared the life out of him sometimes, Nat he was pretty sure, and another red-haired woman he didn’t know. He turned back around before you caught him spying, and he tried to listen over the boisterous shouts and loud, obnoxious music.

This was getting ridiculous. He was getting too old to go to places like this.

“And that sucks,” The guy continued."He’s shit for dragging you along because he knew how you felt. Everyone knew. I’m not saying marry Johnny Lightning--”

You were talking about Bucky.

“Storm.”

“Storm. Whatever. I’m not saying marry him, but it will help take your mind off the asshole who broke your heart.”

“First of all, I only know his name. I don’t have his number because I don’t want to go out with him, Clint. I don’t want anyone else. Can we just stop talking about this, please? It’s bad enough you drug me out of my nice warm bed and made come here. Please stop talking about Bucky.”

“I wasn’t going to let you hide in bed for the rest of your life,” The woman -- Nat, said with a hint of venom in her voice. “I wish you would have talked to him like I told you to. Something is off about this whole thing.”

“I didn’t have time! Things were over before I realized they were.”

“You could go talk to him now?”

“What’s the point? He’s obviously done with whatever we were. I haven’t heard from him in days.”

Bucky was the one that broke up with you? Steve hadn’t expected that, but perhaps he should have.

Steve fidgeted enough to wiggle his phone out of his pocket, silently quieting Sharon before she could make a fuss and draw your attention. He snapped a picture over his shoulder, even though he shouldn’t. You were staring at rose necklace Bucky gave you in Boston while your friends chatted amongst themselves, your eyes were red and puffy like you had been crying non-stop for days. You looked incredibly lonely for someone sitting in the middle of a crowded bar and surrounded by friends.

He dropped the image into a message and sent it off to Bucky.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

Steve placed a kiss on Sharon’s head and slid out of the booth, smiling at her confusion. He walked straight to your table and stopped next to you, making a point to get his shoes and black dress pants in your line of vision. You looked up, and your fingers slipped off the necklace, your mouth fell open and stuttered incoherently.

“Y/n, I think we should talk.”

-----------------------

Across town, Bucky sat in his office, still sitting at his desk hours after Steve left him only now he was staring at his phone instead of his computer. Bucky hasn’t been able to look away from the damn thing since Steve’s text came in over twenty minutes ago. You looked good. Great. A little sad, maybe, but beautiful. He read Steve’s words one more time, and his heart clenched again.

She doesn’t look like someone who moved on. I think you left a few things out of the story.

So he did leave some things out. It was his right to leave out whatever he wanted to. Steve didn’t need to know why things didn’t work out. It wouldn’t change the outcome.

“Hi.”

Bucky’s fingers shook at the sound of your voice, so much so he dropped his phone back onto his desk. You stood in the doorway to his office, fidgeting and uncomfortable. You were still in that little black dress you were wearing in the photo, so you must have come straight from the bar. Bucky slowly leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to yours.

“Hi… what are you doing here? How did you get in?”

You looked guilty, and Bucky had to fight back a grin.

“Steve gave me his ID.”

You held up a little white card as an explanation and gave him that same shy, nervous smile you gave him when he offered to pay for your coffee all those months ago. Steve could never just mind his own damn business. Nosy little punk.

Bucky should probably thank him for meddling this one time -- depending on how the rest of this night goes.

“Of course, he did.”

You took a few steps in, just enough that you could place the card on Bucky’s desk a keep your distance. Bucky watched your eyes scan his desk for your missing pictures, and he wanted to jump in and tell you they were on the bookshelf behind him now. They were hard to look at it all the time now. He saw relief flood you as you spotted them.

He still didn’t understand why you were here.

“Is everything okay, sweet girl?”

The name just slipped out. Bucky hadn’t meant it to. You weren’t… well, you weren’t anything anymore, and he didn’t have a right to call you pet names, but he couldn’t help it. Bucky wanted to call his sweet girl forever. Would have, too, if only the stars had aligned the way Bucky had wanted.

Bucky watched you as hesitated. You took a step forward and then stopped as if you were trying to decide where to go, towards him or out the door. He saw the conflict in your eyes as you fought with yourself, and then you stood up taller with your shoulders squared, having made your choice. You strode towards Bucky with determination, walking around his desk, and Bucky pushed off from his feet, letting his chair roll back enough to give you the space you needed-- wanted.

He hoped it was what you wanted.

Bucky didn’t move or make a sound. Just held his breath and waited.

You sank down on his lap, straddling his waist as you’ve done during the hundreds of times you’ve visited him in his office. Bucky waited until you settled comfortably, and his hands came up to wrap around you and rest against your backside. Your own find their favorite spot tangled in his hair, and the tears catching in your lashes were caught right away.

It took every ounce of strength he had not to lean in and kiss those tears away.

“You left.” You whimpered. “Just disappeared and stopped talking to me like we were never… something.”

Bucky’s heart twisted into something dark and ugly. He hadn’t thought there was much to say. Things had been off since he came home from Boston, and then that boy, he didn’t think there was anything left after that.

“I thought--” Bucky’s arms tightened around you, fingers pressed into your skin as he forced himself to admit what he was scared of since he first met you -- you didn’t really want him.

“I thought maybe you liked that kid from the gala. He's closer to your age and… he could be someone who wants the same things you want. I didn’t want you to feel like you were stuck with me if you didn’t want-- if this was temporary. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“No, that’s not what I want.”

Bucky swiped his thumb under your right eye, wiping away the tears he could no longer stand to see. He didn’t know how to ask if you loved him or how to tell you that he wanted more, but this? He knew this. Bucky’s spent the last eight months asking you want you wanted and doing everything he could to give it to you.

He could do this.

“What do you want, babygirl? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

There was only one thing you wanted.

“I want you to love me,” you choked out in a desperate, hopeless plea. “I want you to love me like I love you. I want you to be in love with me.”

“Oh, baby.”

Bucky cupped the back of your neck and let the other rest on your back, firmly holding you in place on his lap. This was something he should have said months ago.

“I’ve been in love with you for months. Maybe since I bought you that first cup of coffee and you looked at me with those sweet lips and pouty eyes. You’ve had my love, sweet girl.”

You sniffed and took a breath, your bottom lip still trembling as you twisted over his words.

“But-- I, I heard you telling you Sharon you didn’t want a future with me.”

Bucky’s nose crinkled, and his brow furrowed. “What? What are you talkin’ about, baby?”

“In Boston. That night you were drinking at the bar. I came down to… to see you, and you said you didn’t want a family right now and not with me.”

Bucky was smiling, and he could tell by your pout you were about to jump off his lap because of it. He couldn’t help it. This was good. The best news he has heard in weeks. This was all because he was an idiot, and he could fix that. He could stop being an idiot. Bucky took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting the chair lean back all the way, so you fell against his chest, and your feet came off the floor just enough to make you unstable if you tried to get up on your own.

He needed you to stay put a little longer, and if you wanted to leave after he said his peace, he would let you go.

"Did you hear what I said after that?”

“No," you squeaked. “I ran back up to our-- your room.”

“Our room.” He corrected.

"Our room." You amended. "Then you came up and we-- Well, we made-- we..."

Bucky didn't need you to say anymore. He remembered. Bucky absolutely remembered making love to you. He held you against him and carefully explained what really happened that night.

“I did say that, but that wasn’t what I meant. It came out all wrong, and you'll be happy to know Steve and Sam would beat my ass to defend you without a second thought. What I meant and what I explained to them that night was I wanted to wait until you were ready for all that because if I’m going to do all that? Get married and have kids; I only want to do it with you.”

You groaned and thumped your head against his chest. “Why is Nat always right? She said you didn’t mean it. That it was a mistake.”

Bucky chuckled quietly. His fingers gently rubbed at your scalp, and his lips found your skin, pressing soft kisses to your temple. “Probably because she could see it written on my face. According to Sam, I look like a lovesick idiot every time you’re near me.”

Forcing yourself to lift your head, you met his eyes and whispered,” Bucky, I do love you, and I don’t want that dumb bellhop from Boston or any other guy. You’re all I want, but I’m not ready to get married right now. I know you are, and if you want all that right now-- I don’t know, okay? I graduate in May, and then I want to work and-- and --I don’t think I can--”

Bucky’s thumb settled over your lips, stopping your panic.

“I know, and that’s why I said I wanted to wait. Let you find your footing in a new job and get yourself settled there before we even talk about it. I wanted to tell you all this in Boston. Tell you how much you mean to me. How you’re all, I think about, every damn day and the nights that I’m not with you are like torture.”

Your eyes twinkled with someone Bucky didn’t like, and his cheeks warmed right away.

“So that was the whole picnic thing? And renting out the skywalk?”

Bucky nodded sheepishly.

“I might have chickened out. I was worried you didn’t feel the same, and I wasn’t ready to lose you.”

One thing was certain; you were made for each other. You were both idiots.

“So, you do see a future with me?” You asked, nerves showing through your shaky voice. You needed to be sure. You couldn’t go through all that again.

“You weren’t just changing the subject with sex every time?”

Bucky barked out a laugh, the chair under you shaking from the force of it. You pursed your lips. He didn’t have to laugh so hard. It was a serious question. Bucky gave your hip an apologetic squeeze and shook his head.

“No, I didn’t mean to do that. It was incredibly sexy to hear you say you only wanted... me. You could have asked me for anything, and you just wanted me. I like that."

“It’s true, though. I don’t want any of that other stuff. You’re the only thing I want, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, and his hand slipped under the hemline of your dress. “Somethin’ you want… right now?”

Your slender fingers gripped his wrist, and you shook your head. “Nope. What I want right now is to get you home, shower, and maybe sleep till late tomorrow. I haven’t-- I haven’t been sleeping great lately.”

The confession made Bucky remember how terrible he probably looked from his own sleeping habits over the past eighteen days. The last he saw in the bathroom mirror, the dark circles under his eyes, were getting pretty hard to hide. His beard was unkempt and thick and Steve wasn’t wrong about needing to wash his hair. He raised the arm you were still clutching and pressed a kiss to your fingers.

“This how it’s going to work from now on? Just goin’ tell me what to do all the time?”

“Yep. That’s how it works when I’m your girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen dramatically, and Bucky grins.

“I am… I mean, it’s okay I said that, right?”

“Well, you are my girl.”

Bucky can feel your tension deflate, and he really likes the smile on your face.

“Mmm, and you’re my sugar. My sweet fella.”

#sugardaddy!bucky x reader #sugar daddy!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #alternate universe #sugar daddy AU

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revivivivify · 4 years ago

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Game Survival Guide: Genshin Impact Edition

For the love of God, activate the teleport waypoints. For so long I thought they weren’t that important and just left them be, this is a mistake. If you see one, activate it. It’ll save you the trouble of running around later. In fact, I go out of my way to activate waypoints whenever I can.

Opening chests, reading combat/exploration knowledge things and activating waypoints all give you primogems. They may be small amounts but they can add up.

In any daily commission that has a goal listed as “destroy the xyz” rather than defeat all enemies, destroy those objects first. If you don’t, when you defeat all the current enemies, more will come.

Practice switching characters and weapon types quickly on low-level enemies. The more quickly you can master character switching, the better.

USE YOUR DASH BUTTON. I am literally begging you please do not ignore or forget the fact that you can run. My dumb ass forgot the fact that I could run and got yeeted so far by a mitachurl that I landed on the cliff way above where I had been fighting it. Please remember you can run.

Know your stamina limits, but especially when swimming. There’s a trick you can use when climbing or gliding if you run out of stamina: once you start to fall, hit the attack button. You’ll go into a falling attack and suffer little to no fall damage. This is a major life hack, I highly recommend using it. However, if you run out of stamina in the water, nothing can save you. So watch your stamina bar.

Don’t be too sparing with your elemental bursts. It’s fine to use them strategically, and I’d recommend it, but don’t be scared to use them. They will charge up again.

Learn the attack patterns of different kinds of enemies. If you know how they build up to an attack, you can learn to dodge it. This is more difficult with some enemies than with others, but even with tough ones you can save yourself some damage by learning how to get away from certain attacks.

It is completely possible to be free to play. It sucks a lot a little watching others get these fantastic pulls but it’s okay! In my experience, hard work is rewarded. Keep doing quests and daily commissions and stockpiling whatever you can and you’ll eventually get something good. I’m f2p myself and yeah it sucks sometimes but it can be done.

Use your welfares. In the beginning, you probably won’t have a lot of options character-wise. If you bring the units the game gives you to the appropriate level, they can be very useful.

If you’re struggling with something, a few extra levels on a character or weapon can’t hurt. Use your level up materials, they’re there to help you.

A northlander sword prototype can be bought from Marjorie at With Wind Comes Glory for 225 anemo sigils. If you’re struggling to get better four star weapons, the core part of one can be easily obtained for anemo sigils. Other weapon prototypes can be obtained from boss battles, read their descriptions in Wagner’s forging menu. With Wind Comes Glory also sells some ascension materials, so utilize that if you need to.

If you see chunks of iron, crystal, or anything really, harvest them. They might come in handy later when having something forged.

Expeditions are neat. If you need ores or other materials, send characters you aren’t using on expeditions. The materials usually come in small quantities, but they add up.

Mark your map. Mark spots you can find resources, wind currents, challenges, hilichurl camps, whatever you want to remember later.

You probably know this but just in case you don’t: using the jump button while climbing consumes a ridiculous amount of stamina and unless it’s a short climb I wouldn’t recommend doing it.

If you have the ability to do so, drown your enemies. I enjoy fighting around water very much because I can launch enemies directly into the water with Jean’s skill, but you don’t even have to have Jean for this to work. I’ve done it with Xingqiu and Noelle many times as well. Just lure the enemy toward the water and use whatever means you have to throw them into any water deep enough that you have to swim to cross it, and they’ll just drown. Apparently not even fatui agents can swim. This is such an easy kill method and a big time saver.

#might add more later but this is all for now #sorry it’s not under a cut I can’t get it to do the read more ;-;#genshin impact #game survival guide

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smol-and-grumpy · 5 years ago

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Something Just Like This - CH30

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, violence, gore

WC: 3974

A/N: Hi, I wanna thank you all for staying with me and this story. I have received a rather not very nice comment about this. As in their opinion, I stretched it out pointlessly and there’s too much sex, and that I should please go back and edit out the unnecessary parts. I just don’t know what happens to don’t like, don’t read. But yeah, can’t lie that it was kind of a discourage. Nonetheless, I’m sticking to my story, because it helped me keep myself sane in quarantine. So here you go. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Y/N’s awake before him, Cuddles is already gone but Bubbles’ still lying next to her. She takes the little cat and walks out, closing the door behind her. She feeds Cuddles, sits down with Bubbles to see if the little baby would eat and the cat does, which is a relief, really. While she waits to see if Bubbles will throw up again, she turns on the coffee maker. The noise makes the three of them jump.

When she sees that Bubbles can hold her food in, she makes coffee, takes the mugs into the bedroom and climbs to bed with Dean, she places the mug on her bedside table and begins to nudge at his face, rubs her nose along his scruff. It’s scratchy but soft, just the way she likes it. She then kisses his jaw, the corner of his lips, his cheek, his nose.

“It’s too early,” Dean mumbles, his eyes are still closed.

“It’s not.”

“Ah, it’s not because you say it’s not.” He turns and buries his face into his pillow.

“Exactly,” She kisses along the skin that is visible, his ear, the nape of his neck. “And I made you coffee.”

Dean tilts his head up, opens up his one eye, it’s a little red rimmed from sleep. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“Or what do you want?”

“I’m offended. Just because I made you coffee doesn’t mean that I did something stupid or want something?”

“Yeah, it does.” Dean chuckles before reaching his hand out to grab her and pull her to him. “What is it?”

It’s her turn to bury her face into the pillow and she mumbles. “I have to go meet my cousin today.”

“You have a cousin?”

Well, how can she say that she didn’t know about it until last night either?

“Yeah, my aunt makes me go meet him. He came over from England and is in town for a short while.” She lies, hopes Dean buys it.

“When are you meeting him?” He kisses the nape of her neck, his scruff scratches at her skin. She welcomes the burn.

“This afternoon in a café. Just thought you should know so as not to be mad at me again.”

Dean chuckles and manhandles her around so she’s lying on top of him. “Baby, I’m never mad at you.”

“Annoyed.”

“Yeah, I’ve been annoyed.” And then he pauses before he adds, “This afternoon, huh? I don’t have anything scheduled. Why don’t I come with you?”

She honestly doesn’t know what to say to that. How can she say that she doesn’t want him around? That Ketch could expose her? She can’t even text Ketch to blow it off because she foolishly deleted his number and blocked him too.

“Yeah, sure.” She says instead, doesn’t know why but the thought of having Dean around will probably make her feel better? It’ll at least keep her from spilling Ketch everything she knows and make it worse.

Dean and her are sitting at the table, decided to go there before for lunch and now they’re having coffee and waiting for Ketch.

She’s glad Dean agreed to go eat there beforehand but she has never seen Ketch and it would really be embarrassing if she wouldn’t even recognize her own ‘cousin’.

Linda did give her info about him though, it was after they talked last time that she sent Y/N a brief profile.

“There you are!”

She looks up at the man who’s smiling brightly at her. He wears a suit, complete with tie and all, dark grey, white shirt, black tie. There’s an expensive watch on his wrist and a ring on his pinky which, she thinks, is weird but to each their own.

“Hi,” She says, stands up and there’s a short confusion of how she should greet him but he takes the lead, kisses her cheeks and pulls her in for a hug.

One that doesn’t seem to end and she hates that. Dean’s clearing his throat audibly and Ketch releases her with a grin that signals trouble.

This is going great.

“Ketch, this is Dean—”

“—Winchester, I know,” Ketch extends a hand and adds, “I saw your face in the newspaper a couple of days ago.”

Ah. What a liar.

Dean takes Ketch’s hand and there’s a small smile on Dean’s face but she knows that expression too well. It says something like he doesn’t know where to categorize Ketch yet. Dean wants to play nice but he can sense that’s something off about that guy. She can’t blame Dean, she’s weirded out herself.

They sit down and Ketch orders a coffee before he starts to talk, and my god, that man can talk.

Occasionally Dean would look at her, his eyes pleading for her to end this madness.

“What are you doing for a living?” Dean asks Ketch and she doesn’t know if it’s out of genuine curiosity or if it’s a way for Dean to show that he’s polite.

“I used to work for the MI6.” Ketch says matter of factly, like it’s no fucking big deal. “But now I’m a solicitor. Or as you Americans say, lawyer.”

Dean nods. If the mention of the MI6 did throw him off, he doesn’t show it. “And what are you doing in America?”

“Oh, you know, visiting my relatives,” Ketch nods at Y/N, “And I’m looking for a job. Looking to stay, actually.”

“Your mom will be heartbroken.” She mumbles. How fucking dare he uses the meeting to try to get in while Y/N told Linda that she’s got this.

“Yeah, but I’m not the first one who breaks her heart, am I?” Ketch looks at her, raising an eyebrow. It’s a dig at Linda’s and their relationship that has become straining, she knows.

“Anyway,” Ketch goes on, “I was wondering since you’re here, Dean, maybe you know of any openings in your organization?”

So this is what it was about, isn’t it? He really does try to get in? Will probably try to destroy her life and Dean’s before she can finish her mission? Not on her fucking watch. She’s fuming on the inside.

Dean sets his coffee down, one of his hands goes under the table, rubs at her thigh, as if he knows her distress. “I wouldn’t know about it. Ms MacLeod is my Head of HR. She’d know. Maybe you could contact her.”

Ketch looks at Dean, perplexed. As if he doesn’t get rejected often.

“I thought maybe, you know, we’re family.” Ketch adds.

“Oh, stop that bullshit Ketch, we are not! I barely know you and then you come here and want to meet me just because you want a job?” She’s outraged, feels stupid because she made Dean come here and there’s someone sitting across from her that could blow off her cover within a blink of an eye!

“Babe, it’s okay.” Dean squeezes her thigh.

“It’s not, Dean! It’s not okay. I didn’t know he wanted to ask for a job. I’m— Let’s go.” She stands up, leaving Dean to catch up to her. “And Ketch, if you want a job, get one yourself.”

Dean fishes out a bill from his pants and leaves it on the table. Y/N’s already walking out.

“I hate my family.” She breathes out as she leans her head against the car door, feels hot and uncomfortable all of a sudden, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t want you to think that I’m using you for my family's gain.”

“Baby, really, it’s okay.” Dean tries to calm her down, his hand finds her thigh, stroking it up and down.

“I feel so foolish.”

“You are not. You’re being nice and sometimes, people tend to take advantage of that. I’m used to it, actually.”

“I don’t want my family taking advantage of you.”

Dean chuckles, “I think I can handle it fine myself, you really don’t have to worry about that.”

Her bra stabs at her sides, that damn thing, seriously. Everything feels too restrictive right now.

Y/N unhooks her bra on the back, slips out of the straps and pulls it out through the arm of her shirt. She feels so much better now.

Dean’s forehead creases when he sees it. “What did you do?”

She shrugs.

“How is that even possible?”

She laughs, “You’ve never seen someone do it before? You’re shitting me.”

“Well, sweetheart, usually I take them off or the woman does it, you know, more gracefully.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m not graceful, I get it. Bras are overrated anyway.” She bunches it up and throws it to the floor.

Dean has to laugh, “Yeah, they are. Your tits shouldn’t be covered by anything. Except maybe my hands.”

He says it in that straight face of his that makes her face flare up.

Y/N’s taking a bath to relax from Ketch and Dean has brought her a glass of wine, almost changed his mind on going out for that meeting when he saw her there, with foam on her head and a smile decorating her pink cheeks. Felt a strong urge to jump right in too, but he’s really got to go, Cas would give him hell if he would show up too late and that would definitely happen if he would stay next to the tub for too long.

So he steals a kiss before he tells her that he’ll see her later. And it’s hard. Hard to walk out from a wet and naked girl in his tub. He does it nonetheless, someone has got to be the reasonable one around here and today’s his turn.

He walks out, and takes his keys when he hears the doorbell.

They never have someone ringing the doorbell. At least not when they didn’t order anything and he knows he didn’t but maybe she ordered something before taking a bath and forgot to tell him.

Dean opens to Ketch.

“Hi, uh, I just wanna come and apologize for making a fool out of myself. Is Y/N here?” The man looks behind Dean, then and really, Dean doesn’t know what it is but something about Ketch irks him very much.

Against his better judgment, Dean opens the door wider, letting Ketch step in. He is family after all, right? He lets Ketch follow him inside. “Yeah, she’s still taking a ba—”

The blow to the back of his head knocks Dean out of balance and to the side, his body hitting the wall close to the entrance. He did not see that coming.

Dean turns around, his vision is blurry from the blow. Before he can even react, Ketch’s right fist connects with Dean's face. Once, twice, three times, sending him on his side, his body hits the floor with a dull heavy thud.

Yep, definitely didn’t see it coming.

He tries to get up, but there’s a blow in his stomach, feet kicking at his ribs, it punches the air out of his lungs.

“You fucking son of a bitch!” Dean growls, and tuns on his stomach, kneels up a little. He sees splatters of blood on the floor. There’s another kick, right into his middle, making him feel nauseous.

Y/N hears the bell, and thinks it’s weird because she didn’t order anything and she doubts that Dean did, knowing that he’ll be out until late at night.

With a weird feeling in her guts, she gets out of the bath, wraps a towel around her, and secures it with a knot.

She tiptoes out of the bathroom and when she reaches the bedroom, she hears a thud of something heavy hitting a wall.

There’s noises like someone’s grunting before there’s another thud and this time, she can feel the vibration of the flooring beneath her bare feet.

Instinctively, she runs to the closet, retrieves a gun from the cabinet, has to punch in the code twice because her hands are shaking.

Y/N breathes relief when it opens and she quickly grabs the gun Dean has bought for her. Probably not really bought it, but what does it matter now.

Clicking off the safety, she draws it, walks slowly to the bedroom door that’s standing ajar. Dean never closes it when he knows that she’ll be alone. Knowing that she likes it when the cats can come in and bother her.

There she sees it, Dean’s on the floor on his knees, his one arm braced on the floor while he holds his stomach with his other hand. His face is bloody and in pain, there’s a cut above his left eyebrow. Dark red blood splatters the floor.

Standing above Dean, is Ketch. He has a crooked grin on his face.

“You fucking son of a bitch!” Dean growls and Ketch only laughs, kicks Dean some more.

She tries to keep calm, tries to breath. That fucking son of a bitch, for real!

Taking one last deep breath, she steps out but holds her gun steady, points it towards Ketch.

“You tracked our car.” She says calmly. She’s not dumb, can put two and two together. But also because she doesn’t have any other explanation on how Ketch could know where she lives. Not even Linda knows it because they don’t track phones of undercover agents.

“Aw, Y/N no guns please, I didn’t use mine.” Ketch lifts his jacket, showing her that his gun is still in his holster. “Well, that’s a lie, I did for the first blow but I didn’t shoot. I need him alive, you understand, don’t you?” Ketch sounds so fucking arrogant and it makes her blood boil.

Dean’s wincing on the floor between them. And it hurts her, it physically hurts her to see him hurt.

“Shut up!” She hisses, has tears in her eyes. There’s so much going on in her mind, she doesn’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. All she knows is that she wants Ketch to stop hurting Dean.

“Lower your gun, darling.” Ketch is still looking at her with a shiteating grin on his face. “You wouldn’t shoot me. You don’t have it in you, am I right?. How would you explain to my mo—”

The bullet goes right through the crease between his eyebrows.

She doesn’t know why she pulled the trigger. Doesn’t know why she killed Ketch. Fact is that she didn’t want to hear him say more, fact is, that he invaded her life. Fact is, that he hurt Dean and by doing it, he — by proxy — hurt her too. And there’s no way out of it. Ketch already knows too much. If she doesn’t do it, Dean will and she has to answer too many questions that Dean will be throwing at her. Questions she doesn’t even have answers to herself. She doesn’t want to face them yet. Not when she still has time left that she could actually enjoy with him.

She killed a man.

The realization hit her like a freight train.

Not only a man. A special agent. A Fed.

One of her own.

Linda will never forgive her.

The Bureau will never forgive her.

She’s no better than Dean. She’s now in this as much as he is. This life has consumed her, and there’s no way of getting out. She isn’t even sure now if she even wants to get out at all.

Letting herself sink down to the floor, she leans the side of her face against the door frame and starts to cry. Her hand slowly releases her gun.

Her vision is blurry and she closes her eyes for a brief moment, thinking about all the consequences of her action. When she opens her eyes again, Dean’s right in front of her. He’s in pain, she can see that but nonetheless he crawled over the floor to be close to her.

His hands cradle her face as he places a kiss on her forehead, thumbs brushing at the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

“You okay?” He asks her, and there’s a split in his lips and blood at the corner of his mouth.

He’s hurt more than she is but he still asks her if she’s okay.

She does not deserve that.

Unable to answer, she sits still and that prompts Dean to get closer, he sits up, grunting loudly as he does. And then he holds her face firm in his hands, lays his forehead on hers. Their noses touch.

“Baby, I need to know if you’re okay.”

She nods but cries some more.

He kisses her lips and she kisses him back, pours every sorry she can not say into the kiss.

Dean then pulls her towards his chest, lets her cry into it. “I guess I have to call for a clean up, huh?”

Y/N nods again and then out of the corner of her eyes, she sees the two cats slowly coming out from under the sofa. They walk towards Dean and her. She smiles and Dean lets go off her, grunting when he adjusts himself. He takes Bubbles, places the cat on her lap while he holds Cuddles.

It dawns on her then, after she strokes the cats for a while that she didn’t ask if he’s okay.

He’s been asking her twice and she wasn’t even the one who took the beating!

“Are you okay?” She finally asks and Dean breathes out, pulls the corner of his lips up to a little smile.

“Never been better.”

“Liar.” She mutters, then adds, “I need to check if anything’s broken.” Sitting up straight, she lowers Bubbles back on the floor but the cat stays close, watches her as she cradles Dean’s face.

“Baby,” Dean’s holding his breath when she skims one of her hands over his ribs, flinches as she touches him, “I can’t believe I’m saying this myself, but I’d rather you don’t touch me right now.”

She purses her lips. “But a kiss is okay?”

“That’s always okay.” He smiles a weak smile.

Y/N helps Dean after, throws his hand over her shoulder and walks him over to the couch before she calls for Sergei.

“I’m gonna call Cas,” He grunts some more as he settles into the couch.

She walks over to the door and leaves it open for when Sergei comes up.

Turning around, she avoids looking at the dead body of Ketch on the floor.

“Do you want anyone to know about your cousin?”

She frowns at first before it dawns on her that he’s talking about Ketch. Hopes that he didn’t see her hesitation, “No.” She then says, “No, I don’t.”

Because it’s the truth. If possible, she’d like to avoid anyone ever finding out.

“Okay.” Dean nods.

There’s a knock at the door and she leads Sergei into the apartment. The man doesn’t even bat an eye when he sees a dead body on the floor. She guesses that he’s not paid to ask questions.

She leaves Sergei and Dean in the living room, disappears into the bedroom and thinks about calling Linda.

Y/N doesn’t call though. Maybe, she thinks, maybe it’s better when she acts like she doesn’t know anything at all.

Sergei helps Dean into bed and Y/N props up the pillows before undressing him. He grunts out in pain as she makes him sit up a little to get his shirt off his shoulders. He’s already half asleep by the time she pulls off his socks.

She’s been given two different kinds of painkillers by Sergei and he tells her exactly when Dean should take which pills over the next three days. Thankfully nothing’s broken.

Cas arrives with a couple of men later and they immediately start with the clean up. Nobody said a word. It’s like everyone knows what they're doing and she has the feeling that it’s not the first time that they’re doing this.

Y/N takes the cats and closes the room to their bedroom. The workers are being loud but Dean’s even snoring a little by now, unfazed of what’s going on around him.

The cats immediately jump onto the bed, lay themselves around Dean and she couldn’t not take a picture of them together like this even if Dean’s face is bruised.

There’s a band aid that holds his skin together above his eyebrow instead of stitches, the bruise on his cheek already starts to turn green. His lips are swollen and it hurts her to see him like this. It physically hurts her heart.

She wonders how long it’ll take Linda to piece two and two together on Ketch’s whereabouts. How long it’ll be for Linda to knock down the door and arrest her and Dean. Wonders if Linda even knows that Ketch was trying to forgo her commands and contact Y/N directly just because he wants to play a fucking hero. Because honestly, she can’t imagine that the thing Ketch pulled off was in Linda’s interest. Not when Y/N’s so close to the finish line.

After about two hours, there’s a knock on the bedroom door. She opens up to Cas and wave of something that smells like bleach hit her. It seems like they were trying to make it better by spraying some flower scents around the living room, which actually might have made it even worse. She’s going to have to open the windows for hours to get the smell out.

“We’re done.” Cas says, and steals a glimpse of Dean in bed. “How is he?”

“Sleeping.” She answers.

“That’s good. He should sleep. The meeting today went well. Just tell him that? Okay?”

She smiles, “I will.”

“If there’s anything, you know…”

“I know. Thank you, Cas.”

“Anytime.”

She leaves the door open, but goes back to bed, picks her pencil and her notebook back up. She has to turn on the bedside lamp because it’s getting dark outside, the room lights up in a warm soft glow.

It’s an hour later when Dean opens his eyes. He squints at her.

“Is this heaven? Am I in heaven?” He mumbles, his lips purse into a smile.

Y/N replicates his smile, “No, sorry, you’re still stuck with me.”

He starts to laugh but then he flinches in pain. “Baby, no jokes, okay? My body can’t take it.”

“Shit, yeah,” She’s crawling over to his side on all fours. “‘M sorry.”

“Come on,” He says, pats the side of his bed and she goes in, lays her head on his arm. “How are you feeling?”

She chuckles. That’s so typical Dean. He’s the one who’s hurt but he asks her how she’s feeling. She does not deserve him. “Tired. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been beaten.”

She tilts her head, kisses him on his good cheek. “I’m sorry about what happened. I didn’t know that he would come and hurt you.”

“That’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

She wants to tell him that it is.

Dean didn’t say more though, didn’t ask her why Ketch holds a grudge against Dean. Why she shot him. Because that’s also Dean. He doesn’t ask questions to answer that he doesn’t need to know. Answer that won’t change his decision. Answers that aren’t relevant on how he lives his life.

She can also guess that he might know. Ketch mentioned the MI6. Dean’s no fucking idiot.

“Can I ask you something?” He says after a while and her heart picks up pace.

That’s it, she thinks. Finally he’s going to ask her and she’s going to tell him the truth and everything will be over.

“Anything.” She says, because it’s true. At this point it’s all or nothing. She doesn’t want to lie to him any more.

“Why are the cats in our bed?”

CH31

#something just like this #dean winchester #mobster!dean #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #nathalie writes

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jbbarnesandnoble · 4 years ago

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Hungry Eyes: One-Shot

Pairing: Modern!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: a night out with your friends leads to you singing karaoke in front of an entire bar. you might be singing in front of them, but everyone knows who you're singing to.

Warning(s): fluff, drinking, bar setting, cringy dialogue (i did not hold back on this one yall) happy ending, my bad writing, and this was only edited once (by me, i can tell you in full confidence that my editing skills suck)

Word Count: 3,059

Prompt: Hungry Eyes by Erik Carmen

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts since june i believe, and i have wanted to post it so badly! so naturally when i try to post it (after MONTHS of not postint) tumblr stops working and messes my whole plan up... im sorry my friends, but second times the charm (that's how the saying goes, right??)

(not my gif)

It is 9:38pm on a Saturday night, Dirty Dancing plays on your TV in the background while you get ahead on some work. It is your fifth time watching it this week, but you can’t not watch it, it is your favorite movie after-all. On the coffee table next to you, your phone vibrates. Picking it up, you greet your friend on the phone.

“What up babe, I hope you’re wearing somethin’ sexy ‘cause we’re going out tonight!” Natasha announces into her phone. You sigh, knowing there is no way for you to escape going out tonight, not after bailing on her the last four times.

Which is how you find yourself here, at O’Malley’s Bar and Karaoke. Sitting at a center table in the dimly lit bar while an intoxicated man belts out a Fleetwood Mac song. You choose a seat at the mostly empty table. Nat, who is talking with her younger sister, Yelena. Sits on your right and Sam -your other best friend- sits on your left.

“Y/n, haven’t seen you 'round here in awhile. How’s it hanging?” Yelena asks, shifting in her chair, she tries to hear over the sound of the man's bad and loud singing. If you can even call it singing.

“She's been avoiding us,” Nat says, pushing all your buttons perfectly. You do your best to ignore her antics. The wood chair scraps against the hardwood floor as you pull it out and sit between your two best friends. You answer Yelena’s question with a generic answer, ignoring her sister - and her comments - who doesn't seem to care.

“What’s up, kid. It’s been a while since you last came out with us. Nat finally blackmailed you to come with?” Sam jokes with you. You turn to face him, as he sips his water. Ice clinks around in his glass from the quick movement.

“Drinking water tonight?” You ask, more out of intrigue than anything else, though it is a good way to turn away from the current topic. Since you don’t feel like explaining your reason for not hanging out with your friend group much anymore.

It isn’t like you don’t want to go out with them, you do. But you aren’t all that fond of being around Bucky and his girlfriend Dot. You have had a huge crush on Bucky since college and have been best friends for even longer. You thought that over time that small childish crush would go away, but much to your dismay, it did not. In fact, it grew and it never stopped growing. So now, here you are, years later, in love with your best friend who you can’t have because he’s in love with someone else.

That explanation is a great way to kill everyone’s fun. Which is why you haven’t told anyone why you don’t want to hang out anymore. It’s too hard to see them together. You pushed past the pain for almost an entire year, but you aren’t sure that you can do it anymore.

“Somebody has to keep an eye on these kids,” Sam explains, acting as a true mature adult. “Also I drove,” he adds, quieter than the first part, he hides behind his drink.

“There it is.” You say, to which he responds by pretending to be hurt that you didn’t believe he would be the mature one by choice.

A waitress comes around moments later asking you what you would like to drink and eat. A smile on her face the entire time, one you recognize as a customer service smile. Completely fake, but real enough that the customers are none the wiser. You thank her, asking for only a glass of water.

“Forget whatever she asked for, she would like a beer.” Natasha interrupts the young waitress as she is about to leave the table.

“Natasha!” You shout at her, she shrugs in response taking a swig of her own beer.

“I agreed to come out with you, but I didn’t agree to drink.” You point out and it’s true. You don’t feel like drinking tonight and you have to drive yourself home so you really shouldn't be drinking.

“You agreed to drink when you said you would come out with us, plus Sam’s driving.” The redhead tries to argue as she leans back in her chair.

“Yeah, he’s driving you, unlike some people I drove myself.” She shrugs, becoming uninterested in the conversation. She goes back to talking to Yelena.

The same waitress from before comes back, water in one hand and a beer in the other. She sets them both down in front of you, a smile on her lips the entire time. Her long black hair sways back and forth as she moves around the table. She checks in on the rest of your friends who had just arrived.

“Y/n!” Clint and Tony yell in unison. While Steve greets you more calmly than the others as he claims a seat across from you. You offer a kind smile in return. Your eyes scan over the group that had sat down at your now full table and you notice two faces missing from your group.

“Are Bucky and Dot coming out tonight?” You ask no one in particular. Everyone shares glances and avoids looking in your eyes.

“It’s been so long since you’ve been out with us, we all forgot you didn’t know.” Tony said, eyebrows drawn together and a sympathetic smile on his lips.

“Know what?” you ask, letting your intrigue get the best of you. Sam is the first of your friends to speak up, seeing as he is one of your closest friends the duty fell to him.

“Buck hasn’t been out with us for a while, kid. Once you stopped hanging out with us we started to see less and less of him. Now he rarely hangs out with us.”

Your eyes scan around the table, no one is looking directly at you except for Sam and Nat. You shrug, not seeing the huge deal about the whole thing. It’s his choice not to come out, just like it is your own.

“He’s been distant with us.” Tony adds, hiding behind his drink

“His loss.” You state causally, though deep down you are a bit disappointed. It has been a while since you last saw him, it would be nice to know he is doing well.

-------

Two beers and most of the bar’s nachos later, you’re having a better time than you expected to. You forgot how much fun being around your friends is. You wish you hadn’t been such a child about the whole Bucky thing. You could have been having so much fun had you simply ignored your own feelings instead of dwelling on them.

A group of young girls is on the stage, singing along to some new pop song you have not heard before. They are not the best singers, but you can tell they don’t care. They are having fun and enjoying themselves that is all that matters. The song ends and the crowd, filled mostly with drunk people, clap and cheer as they exit the stage.

Someone’s hand pulls three times on the sleeve of your shirt. Grabbing your attention from the drunk guy who stumbled onto the stage. His friends cheer loudly as he gets ready to sing and someone from the crowd yells happy birthday. Across the bar, you find a table full of young guys and girls. Balloons and streamers decorate the booth. A banner hangs above it, written in bold blue marker reads, ‘Happy Birthday Tom'.

“Y/n, you know what you should do?” Yelena starts and you can tell the alcohol is starting to kick in the tiniest bit. Though she seems to be better at holding her liquor better than some of your other friends. “You should go up there.”

“No, no way. There is no way I’m going up there.” You argue, holding your hands up as if trying to physically stop her idea.

“Come on, it would be so much fun! Plus, if you do it Clint will pay you twenty bucks.” The blond bargains with you, both of your eyes look to where Clint is happily unaware of her idea. A smile spreads across your face.

“Fine, but I’m gonna need one more of these and you’re buying,” you say, waving your empty beer bottle back and forth.

You take your time finishing your beer, your nerves grow larger with each sip. Soon enough, Yelena caught onto what you were doing and yelled at you to drink faster. Well, you think that’s what she was doing. With her switching between Russian and English it was hard to tell what exactly she was trying to say. And Natasha’s so-called “help” did nothing, seeing as she was also speaking in Russian.

“You’re up next,” Sam announces which earns cheers from all your friends. Settling back in his chair, he pats your shoulder offering an encouraging smile. The next four minutes go faster than any other song before. The girl on stage announces your name and you reluctantly walk onto the stage. Your friends cheer you on, which helps ease your nerves. Also, the fact that most of the bar is drunk, the chances of anyone remembering this is not very high.

“Hey Sam, why didn’t you tell her they broke up?” Steve asks from across the table, which gains the rest of the group's attention. Except for Clint who never knows what’s going on. Which usually has to do with the fact that his hearing aids are off about half of the time.

“That’s his job, not mine. I’m not his babysitter.” Sam says curtly.

“He can tell her when he gets here,” Tony tells everyone in the most nonchalant way possible. All eyes are on him, confused by what he means. “I texted him, told him she finally stopped avoiding us," he pauses to correct himself, "Him, and came out for the night.”

“You drunk genius!” Clint shouts

“You’re drunk too, you idiot,” Yelena yells at him. He promptly turns his haring airds back off and mumbles something about being the soberest one there in response to her statement.

“Shut up all of you, she’s singing,” Nat yells at them.

An upbeat melody begins playing over the speakers. A small screen in front of you flashes the lyrics of the song you picked on it. Another second passes and it’s time for you to start singing. You start off quiet, not quite believing in yourself yet.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,

I've got this feelin' that won't subside

I look at you and I fantasize

You’re mind and tonight.”

Your friends, after being quiet for a while, start cheering you on again. Their support gives you the confidence you need. From in the crowd, Sam yells, “That’s my best friend, y’all, stay jealous.” which causes you to laugh, you collect yourself and keep on singing.

“Now I’ve got you in my sights,

with these, hungry eyes

one look at you and I can’t disguise”

The song continues on and suddenly you feel like Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing. Feeling more confident you attempt to do some of the dance moves that you can remember from the movie. You aren’t the best dancer, but you don’t care all that much, you’re having a lot more fun than you thought you would. In fact, you’re almost happy Yelena encouraged you to go on stage.

“I want to hold you so hear me out,

I want to show you what love’s all about

darling tonight.”

The next set of lyrics pop on the screen, not that you need them, you know this song by heart. It’s then the front door swings open and your eyes find a set of steel-blue ones, your heart skips a beat or two, or maybe three. You stutter over the words once or twice before you collect yourself enough to sing the next words.

“I’ve got hungry eyes

I feel the magic between you and I

With these hungry eyes

Now I’ve got you in my sights.”

Lyrics that meant nothing before, now mean a little too much to you. All thanks to Bucky, who had to enter the bar while you were on stage. With your heart pounding a little harder thanks to him, you keep on singing and the crowd keeps cheering. You watch as he chooses to stand a few feet behind your group rather than join them.

“I need you to see

this love was meant to be.”

Your dancing has slowed to a slow sway back and forth, your eyes never leaving Buckys. The music is quieter than before and all you can see is him. You try your best to look away, but it’s too hard when he’s staring at you like that. With his soft and gentle smile and his hair that is so fluffy all you can think about is running your hands through it. At this point, you’re well aware that you are singing to him. What you don't notice is that your friends - and everyone else in the bar - are also well aware of what is happening, and who you are really singing to.

“I feel the magic between you and I.”

“Now I’ve got you in my sights

With my hungry eyes.”

Just like that, as quickly as the song began it ended. The bar fills with applause as you leave the stage. Making a b-line to your friends who are all standing when you reach them, ready to pull you into a hug.

“Dude, that was amazing. I was even considering giving you twenty bucks myself… But I won’t, I’ll let Clint do that.” Yelena says, patting you on the back and leaning her arm on your shoulder.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that.” Steve complements, in his usual awkward manner. You thank him as he pulls you into a small hug.

“Get out of the way losers,” Sam yells from the back of the group, which makes you laugh, “You got some pipes on you, kid. I’m a bit hurt that you never told me, your best friend, that you can sing. But I’ll forgive you this time. All it'll cost you is a pizza.” he says with a wink so you know he’s only kidding, not that he needed to do that. He is your best friend, after all, you know him better than Steve and Bucky do.

Sam pulls you into a huge hug when your eyes meet Bucky’s who is standing behind the group. You turn your eyes away when you go to hug Nat next, “You should probably talk to him.” she whispers into your ear before letting you go and yelling, “Next rounds on me!” Which is the perfect chance to escape. “Waters all around!” You hear her add while walking away, boos erupt from all of your friends and a smile pulls at your lips.

“Hey, wanna get some air?” Bucky asks when you’re close enough to hear him, you nod without hesitating.

It is a bit colder outside from when you first left your apartment, a cold, Autumn breeze blows through your thin blouse. You regret not grabbing your jacket before leaving the bar. In an attempt to gain some warmth, you wrap your arms around yourself.

“Dot and I broke up,” Bucky blurts out, the sudden confession causes you to stop in your tracks. He does too, choosing to stand next to you. “I feel like an idiot about the whole thing if I’m being honest. She said that she couldn’t date me while I am in love with someone else. It took me too long to realize who she meant, when I did, everything else began to make sense in my life again.”

“So, who is it?” you ask, somehow convincing yourself that it can’t be you.

"And I thought I was an idiot." he states, a smug, joking smile on his lips.

Before you have the chance to ask him what he means. His lips crashs into yours and his hand cup your face. The kiss is slow and sweet and everything you ever imagined it would be plus more. It’s the kind that sweeps you off of your feet and steals your breath, and leaves you feeling a little dizzy afterwards. It’s the kind of kiss at the end of a rom-com when the guy finally gets the girl.

“I feel it too,” he says through soft pants, his forehead resting against your own. You hum, silently asking him what he means. “The magic between you and I, I finally feel it. Although it’s about five years overdue.” His words, as cheesy as they might be, are perfect and romantic in every way possible. Your arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer so that your noses are almost touching.

You’re about to say something when your stomach speaks first, doing it’s best to be as loud as possible. There is a moment of silence between you before you both start laughing. Bucky’s hands fall from your face and down to your shoulders to pull you into his chest. You stand there laughing with your face buried in his chest.

“Let’s go find you some food, yeah?” he asks you, fingers running through your hair. You nod into him, more than happy to find something to eat.

“You never answered my question from before.” You say and you begin to walk to find food, your arm looped around his waist, his around your shoulders. It takes him a moment to realize what you’re talking about when he does he says,

“This girl from work, I've been in love with her since I first saw her.” He teases with a playful smirk on his lips.

“You are really mean, you know that?” You complain, faking a pout. A laugh bubbles in his throat before he plants a kiss onto your head.

“Yeah, but you still like me.” he points out before stopping to shrug off his jean jacket, after he notes the goosebumps littering your skin.

“Can’t have you catchin’ a cold on our first date.” You smile up at him as you walk to the closest pizza shop that is down the street.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #modern!bucky #modern!bucky barnes #modern!au #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfic #rae writes #hungry eyes fanfic

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old-hyper-super-clover · 4 years ago

Text

Trouble in Devildom Town, Part 1/3

In this short story, our dear Leviathan is back with another one of his “hey I teleport you Normies into a game world”- kinda games. What will the happen inside the world of the game “Trouble in Terrorist Town”??

This story contains two OCs/ MCs, so if you´d like to know more about the girls Violet and Clover, you can check out their character designs & descriptions on my blog :D

Hope you´ll have fun on this three-parted adventure!

Approximate reading time: 10~15 minutes

Words: 3.156 words

It was a calm, neat Saturday evening, when a new message hit the "House of Lamentation" group chat...

Leviathan:

OMGGGGGG

GUYS (and girls LOL)

YOU NEED TO COME OVER TO MY ROOM ASAP

Satan:

Mammon:

To your room? Seriously?!

Asmodeus:

I can't remember having Levi calling us over ever before... What's going on??

Leviathan:

LESS TALKING, MORE COMING OVER.

Lucifer:

I do hope for you this matter is worth the ruckus...

Clover:

We'll be there in a sec!

And so, the whole mansion's population found themselves in the third-born's room a few minutes later.

"Levi..." Being the last one to step inside the crowded room, Belphegor was rubbing his eyes in a tired manner. "Would you tell us what's going on now...?"

However, Leviathan wasn't really going to answer any of their questions.

Instead, he was prompting his guests to close the door, his gaze drifting over all of them.

Lucifer crossed his arms.

"This maniac expression on your face is highly worrying, Levi," Lucifer said.

Levi turned towards his computer, hectically mashing his keyboard, clicking on several pop-ups that appeared on his monitors, before finally turning around to properly face them.

He wore a crazy smile.

"Dammit, Levi," Mammon burst out, "I'm not in the mood for your weird shi-"

Ignoring him, Levi spoke in his best terrifying voice.

"I welcome you..."

Before anyone could react, he pressed a last key, then the monitors emitted such a strong light that all of them had to close their eyes.

Slowly able to see again, the nine of them suddenly found themselves in a little shack.

"What... What happened...?" Violet was the first one to take a proper look around. "Where are we?!"

Leviathan's laugh pulled them out of their confusion. He spread his arms triumphantly.

"Welllcome tooo....

Trouble in Terrorist Town, the special, virtual reality but actually it's true reality -edition!!"

"Trouble in... What?" Mammon asked.

"Wait..." Clover was searching for Levi's attention. "I know this game, I've played TTT before. But why are we... really here?"

Satan shot his otaku brother a glare.

"Is this one of your real life games that you are only allowed to leave when you win??"

"Kind of," Levi laughed. "Don't worry though, if you die here, you don't die for real. You'll get kicked into a spectator lobby and we'll all respawn together once the round is over."

The oldest brother gave a stressed sigh.

"Really, now..." Lucifer rubbed his temples in distress. "Why do you always force us into playing your games without asking first...?"

"Well... I feared all of you would say no if I did" Levi responded, actually in a slightly sad tone.

When Lucifer breathed another sigh, they heard Asmo giving a weird squeal.

"Look at our outfits tho~!" he hummed.

He was standing in front of a partly broken mirror, posing while blowing his reflection some hot kisses.

"A simple black, military look, slightly armoured just at the right places... And oh my, tight clothes just show all those curves and perfections of my astonishing body..."

As he was looking around to find someone who would agree with him, his eyes landed on Clover.

"Isn't that right, darling~?"

The girl didn't even look at him.

Instead, she was staring at somebody else with a heavy blush covering her face.

"Y-yeah... Curves and... Perf... Perfection..."

Asmo wouldn't need to, but nonetheless he followed her gaze to find the sixth-born.

Of course, Beelzebub noticed this piercing glare that laid on him, but (fortunately for the girl), he was too pure to correctly interpret the thirst behind it.

"Huh? Clover? Are you not feeling well? You look like you have a fever..."

He hurried over to check that her face was truly burning hot, and of course only getting warmer now that he was this close, in this soldier like, perfect, absolutely stunning uniform that just-

"GUYS!!"

Thankfully, Leviathan saved the girl from passing out.

"The game is about to start soon and you don't even know the rules!!"

With a little frown, Violet leaned against the wooden wall that Satan was already rested against.

"So we're really going to play this crazy game...?" she mumbled so only the blond could hear.

She gained a chuckle.

"I guess so..." Satan whispered. "Although I must say, weird and extreme as they may be, but Levi's games can be quite amusing if you just go with the flow."

She mustered him, then a smile spread on her face as well.

"Well, I guess we should take all the opportunities we can to do crazy stuff while Clover and I are here in the Devildom."

Before Satan could answer, Levi threw a pebble at them.

"You listen as well, Normie!!"

Then, he finally went to explain the rules...

"In our group of nine, there are three that are not like the rest...

They are traitors.

They work as a trio, trying to kill all the other players in order to win the game.

But who are they, you ask yourself?

Well, that is a thing only they know, and THE thing the innocent one's have to find out.

To their guidance is the almighty detective.

Unlike the traitors, the detective can, or should, reveal his role so that the remaining players, called the 'innocents', can protect him better.

Then, logically, the innocents' and detective's goal is to find the three traitors and eliminate them.

When the game starts, we may run out of this shack and will have additional two minutes to spread over the map. Keep in mind that in those two minutes it is impossible to harm your co-players, but after that, it's time for war.

The map is covered with all sorts of weapons that may help you in the epic fights we will have.

But behold!

Both, the traitors and the detective, have access to special weapon shops, where they can, any time, any place, trade achievement points for super cool, limited items to grant their victory!

On your wrists, a health bar will appear, but you can only see your own. Once your life points reach zero, you will be put into said spectator lobby and may follow the game like ghosties in the sky! Then you will also see who has which role."

Levi took a look around after having finished.

"Any other questions?"

Belphie raised his hand.

"Do the traitors know who the other traitors are? Or can they kill each other?"

"Very good questions! They know of each other, but they may also kill each other if it gives any tactical advantages. Their goal is to have at least one traitor alive at the end of the game while the rest is dead.

Ah, I forgot to say...! If an innocent person or the detective kills another innocent one, they will die as well, as a penalty."

After a round of silence, everyone looked as if they were ready.

"Good to go?" Levi checked one last time.

Gaining nods as an answer, a big smile grew on Levi's face.

"Alright!!! Then...

Let's begin!!!"

The players were just about all out of the shack when the game officially started.

A giant countdown manifested in the bright sky of day that, judging by the bright sunlight, must have been the sky of the human world.

Two minutes were slowly ticking down.

Levi was pointing up at the clock...

"After this preparation time starts the overall time of one hour. If that time is over, the innocents will win as well. But for every person the traitors kill, they gain five minutes to add to the counter."

... And then he pointed down on his arm.

"You should all see a role written on here. And the traitors will see two other player's names on here as well."

He gained a round of hesitant nods.

"Our player names are displayed above our heads. Be careful, they might reveal your position if you're not hiding well enough."

They heard Belphie snort with laughter.

He pointed above Mammon's head.

"'StupidMammon'? I like that name, it's better than your real one!"

"Huh?!" Mammon looked up to see it himself. "WhAT?! Levi, did you give me this shitty name AGAIN?!??"

"Lolololol, sorry Mammon, I had to."

Kind of automatically, everyone needed to check their names before doing anything else.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

"Most of our names are normal, though... We have Beel, Belphie, I am 'Lucifer' as usual..."

"Yep! I am Levi-chan, and the Normies are Violet-chan and Clover-chan."

"What an honour to have a naming scheme fitting your name," Violet smiled.

"Well, I felt kind today. Don't push your luck, or I'll change it into Normie #1 and Normie #2 for the next round."

O moment later, Satan gave a sigh.

"... Why am I called 'Stan'?"

Levi looked at his name.

"... Oh. Must be a typo lololol"

The others laughed a little, while the Avatar of Wrath tried to contain his displease, but out of all, Asmo seemed to find it the most amusing.

Which was weird, because he was completely ignoring the fact that his nickname wasn't normal either, but there was an extra fat "Ass-mo" written above his head...

After a round of getting used to the sensation of being inside a video game, Violet clasped her hands to finally get things started.

"Could we get going? There's only less then a minute left before the friendly fire wears off."

Very grateful for helping to get the game going, Levi was about to dismiss everyone, when he remembered one important detail.

"WAIT!!" he screamed.

"What?! I wanna go already...!" Asmo whined.

Levi looked around.

"The most important role!! Who's the detective?!"

Everybody shot each other glances, then, finally, a little "ah!" caught their attention.

Their gazes landed on Mammon.

"There's 'detective' written on my left arm, so I guess it's me?"

"WHAT?!" Levi pressed out. "OH, MAN....! Why does it have to be MAMMON?!"

"Well, I guess the innocents are on their own, then," Satan agreed to Levi's resignation.

"With Mammon as the most powerful innocent, the traitors have a clear advantage," Lucifer agreed, too.

"Aw, maaan, and I was hoping for an exciting first round..." Asmo pouted, of course, in agreement.

The white haired male gave a growl.

"H-hey!!! Don't be like this, I'll kill those traitor bitches in no time!!"

But no one was listening.

In a collective sigh, all the others automatically started to move, not a single soul feeling the need to stick to the one person they knew was one of the good ones.

"Hey!!" Mammon called out again. "Aren't ya innocents s'posed to guard me?! Where are y'all going?!?!"

... But no one was listening.

"Grr... Just you wait...! I'll slay this game!!"

And with that, he turned to follow behind Lucifer and Violet, whining and screaming at them to wait for him, only to see how Lucifer was fastening his step.

Walking through the deserted village and onto a wide, open area, Clover soon felt her fear of being chased kick in.

Somehow, she had ended up all by herself, but that only made stumbling about so much worse.

But now, as she turned her head to check if someone was following her, she saw how Satan had been trying to follow her in silence.

As they locked eyes, however, he greeted her with a smile and went up to her as if nothing had happened.

"... Hi," Clover mumbled carefully.

"Please don't mind my behaviour," the blond said while gesturing to continue walking together. "I still have to figure out how to properly behave in this situation. I mean, it's not every day that we suddenly face each other as maybe allies, maybe enemies... right?"

The girl shot him a sceptical glance.

"Well, that's true... But if your goal is to not appear suspicious, then... Don't to that again. Just a friendly little piece of advice."

Satan laughed.

"Yes, my apologies. You see, you have mentioned you know this game, so I found it best to stick to you."

They halted as they found a pistol laying on a boulder nearby, a package of ammunition right next to it.

Both of them were hesitating, then Satan turned around to continue.

"You take it," he said, obviously trusting that Clover wouldn't shoot his back right this instant.

Well this, or he was already bearing a weapon...

"I've seen people play this game lots," Clover continued the conversation. "I know how everything works, but I'm afraid I'm pretty bad at all the aiming stuff..."

The two reached a weird cliff that parted the land in a huge gap, no ground to be seen in the huge depths. One of those super unstable-looking wooden bridges was leading to the other side.

The platform on the other side was rather small, with only a few buildings in the middle of it.

Satan held his chin in a contemplative manner.

"I bet there must be some rare items waiting for those who would go that far and cross the bridge..."

Clover gave a nod.

"Probably... Welp, you can get the stuff, I have terrible fear of heights, so I'm not going over that wobbly bridge thingy."

The girl was about to leave again, but the male got hold of her wrist.

"No, you're coming with me."

"What?! Why?"

He searched for her eyes.

"Look. I trust that you're innocent, and I ask you to trust me, too. I could have already killed you if I wanted to, when you were all alone. But we need to work together if we want to stand a chance against the traitors and whatever special weapons they might have."

He made a little pause while the girl fought with herself to make up her mind.

"Please," he said again.

Finally, Clover gave an annoyed grunt.

"Fiiiine..." she grumbled. So, she pointed at the bridge. "But you go first... Mister Stan."

She stressed his nickname in a manner to mock him.

Satan looked at her for a moment, dazzled, then he turned around and could only give a breathy laugh.

"See, now you can be sure that I am innocent. Because if I was allowed to kill you just now, I definitely would have."

"Oooh, Leviii!"

Asmo was nearly doing little jumps while trotting alongside the third-born. His excitement was visible, but very odd, and of course Leviathan noticed that his brother was acting strange.

"Asmo, for Lord Diavolo's sake, what's wrong with you?!"

Putting on his best puppy eyes, Asmo looked at him all innocent.

"Eeh? Shouldn't you be happy that somebody actually enjoys your weird games for once?"

Levi growled in response, moving through the deserted village with such care, as if death could be waiting behind every next corner.

... Well, it could, yes, but his super secret agent act was just... a little too much...

"Sure, but... You're almost TOO excited about this. A little shady, if you ask me... Like, out of all games, why would one where we kill each other be one to wake your interest?!"

He gained a dramatic rolling-of-eyes.

"Oh, please, Levi! It's not the killing or tactical contemplation that gets me excited... But think about the potential that this scenario bears!"

They peeked inside one of the empty houses.

There were two weapons inside, a crowbar and a shotgun without ammunition.

Breaking the nearest window, Levi climbed inside to pick them up, and was kind enough to give Asmo the crowbar even though he hasn't done anything worth gaining it (as Asmo had even been too scared to get a cut from climbing through the broken window so he didn't move an inch).

"What potential, exactly?" Levi asked, more because he felt like Asmo would pressure him into asking that anyway.

Glad that he could continue his speech, Asmo placed a dramatic hand on his forehead.

"The potential for drama, Levi!! Just imagine... us lonely wolves lumbering through the streets, and our maidens Violet and Clover shivering in fear!"

He changed his pose, wrapping his arms around himself as if hugging someone.

"Oh, whom should they trust?? Their hearts, their minds, or just nobody at all?!"

Then, he suddenly grabbed Levi by his shoulders, getting pretty close to his face.

"Love blooms in times of war, Levi! And I will take every chance I can to see those flowers in their full beauty!"

Silence.

Then, Levi gave an exhausted sigh.

"... Can you please go away...?"

And Asmo let go of him.

"Tsk. Okay, if you're not mentally able to understand the depth of my words, then I shall find a better place to fulfill my tasks...!"

"Sooo, Beel, where you wanna go?"

The twins were already out of town, kind of heading towards the edge of a nearby forest.

The taller one seemed to be searching for something.

Then, he held his stomach.

"I'm... Hungr-"

"No, don't even say it" Belphie sighed. "Are you, really? Even inside a game?"

Beel only gave a pout, so Belphie continued after a while.

"Well, if we must secure you won't go on a rampage and destroy the whole game, then the forest might be the best place to find something for you."

And so, Belphie continued heading straight towards the green.

After a while, however, Belphie noticed how his brother wasn't following any more.

Turning around, Beel had stopped completely and was looking off into the distance behind them.

When Belphegor asked him what was wrong, the other male slowly shook his head.

"Where did everyone run off to?" Beel asked. "I can't see any of the other players..."

"Hm... I saw Violet, Lucifer and Mammon go into the forest as well... Asmo and Levi seemed to have stayed near the village... And I don't know where Satan has gone."

Now Beel turned his head.

"And Clover?"

"Uhm... She went somewhere... there, I think. I heard her talk with Levi when we left, but it seemed like she wasn't going to stay with him."

"So she's all alone right now?"

Belphie got a little confused over Beel's worried expression.

"Well, maybe. But she could be a traitor, so why are you so worried about her?"

Beelzebub's gaze drifted away again.

"I just... Don't like that thought." He snapped back at his smaller brother. "And by the way, you could be a traitor as well."

Belphie leaned back in a carefree manner.

"Yeah, but I told you I'm not. You don't believe me? I believe you're innocent, too!"

Beel gave a little sigh.

"But you can read me like a book, even if I tried lying to you..."

They kept standing there in a little silence.

Then, without further ado, Beel grabbed his brother by his arm, turned around, and kept going into a different direction.

"Beel, what are you...?! Weren't you hungry?! What about the forest??"

"... I sense food over there. Don't worry, and let's get going."

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me shall we date #obeyme #obey me oc #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #violet #clover #fanfic #trouble in terrorist town

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contactingcashapp · 4 years ago

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How to Login your Cash App Account | The way of direct to login to Cash App

online payment platforms and when it comes to choosing a platform for managing the online flow of money, Cash App is the interest of umpteen users. Its ease-of-usefulness and end-to-end protection features are a few things for what users choose Cash App, despite having different options. So, if you are interested in joining Cash App or you are already using it, then this article is going to be useful for you. Why? Because here we are going to learn about the Cash App login and account creation process.

The direct way to log in to Cash App

Cash app login will not be a troublesome task for you if you follow the correct procedure for it. However, some people might make mistakes while doing so despite the process being easy. Keeping that in mind, the next section is those users who want to know the correct way to do cash app login. Here is how you can log in:

· Open a browser and enter https://cash.app/login in the search bar

· Else, launch the Cash App application on your device and tap "Sign In"

· On the login page, enter your email or mobile number

· Then, tap on the "Request Sign In Code" option

· You will now receive the Cash App Sign in code based on the entered details

· Enter the same code on the blank displayed on your screen

· After entering the confirmation code, tap "Sign In"

Didn't receive the login code?

· Just tap on the "Help" option under the "Sign In" button

· You will see three options:

· Resend Code

· Call Me Instead

· Edit Number

· Choose one of the given options and do as prompted

This is how you can do Cash app login on its app or the website.

Can you have two Cash App accounts?

It is possible for you to have multiple Cash App accounts only if you have multiple phone numbers and cards. Since you cannot create more than one Cash App account using the same number, email address, or card details, therefore you need to have different details to create separate accounts.

Don't have a Cash App account? Sign up now

Are you new to Cash App and want to learn how to create an account on Cash App then, complete the easy steps mentioned hereby:

Note: you can sign up for Cash App directly from the cash app login page

1. Go to the https://cash.app/ page and tap "SIGN IN" at the top

2. Or, open its app on your iPhone/Android phone

3. On the login page, type your email address/phone number

4. Then, input the code that you have just received

5. Now, type the information about your debit card

6. And, select the "Save card" option

7. After that, type your full name

8. Then, you have to choose a $Cashtag

9. This is a unique name to receive and send payments

10. Now, tap "Next" and enter your ZIP code to end the process

Once you are done with creating an account on Cash App, you can now go ahead with the Cash App login process by using the instructions given in the above section.

Method to send money on Cash App

After you do cash app login, you can easily send payments via it. For this, follow the steps as described below:

· Open Cash App and select "New" at the bottom

· Here, enter the amount you'd like to send and tap "Pay"

· Now, provide the email address/phone number/ $Cashtag

· Add a note to your payment and tap "Pay" again

How to receive payments on Cash App?

If you wish to receive or request payment from someone who is on Cash App, then use the instructions given hereby:

· Open the "New" window on Cash App after Cash App login

· Enter the amount you wish to request

· Then, enter the email address

· And add a note for what you are requesting it for

· In the end, tap "Request" and the other person will see a notification to make the payment

They need to complete this payment and you'll receive the money

Forgot your Cash App login details? Access an old account

If you cannot gain access to your old Cash App account because you have forgotten the Cash App login details, then you can easily recover it by going through the method explained below:

1. Just visit the Cash App login page

2. Enter the phone number or email address with which you created that account

3. You will receive the confirmation code for login

4. Enter this code in the given text box

5. And you will be able to log in on cash app

Conclusion-

In case you do not have access to your phone number or email address with which you are trying to log in, you will never be able to gain access to your account under any circumstances. In case you do not have access to that particular phone number or email address, you will never be able to recover your account, under any circumstances.