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tetzoro · 6 months ago

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LOVERS ROCK — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. zoro roronoa !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : zoro has a new outfit for your excursion to egghead island and it fits him a little too well . . .

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. thigh riding, dry humping, multiple orgasms, praise, zoro calls you pretty, — WC : 1.9k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : i figured posting this on hump day was fitting. enjoy ! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

zoro’s musk wraps around you as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. steel, sweat, blood, and the salt of the sea all wrapped into one. the scent of something dangerous that should leave you repulsed only draws you in more.

because you know better, you know what every inch of his body tastes like, how addicting it is when it melts on the tip of your tongue. can he blame you when you press your lips against the skin of his neck, humming approvingly as you steal another taste?

he lets out a groan that reverberates against your lips, one that has your kiss turning into something more vicious as you suck against the spot, leaving your mark for all the world to see.

“easy.” zoro’s voice is low, his fingers tightening against your hips. the heated make out session was quickly becoming more as your lips latched near the column of his throat, feeling his pulse quicken under your tender care.

“can’t. it’s this suit.” you reluctantly ease up, warm breath fanning over the agitated spot you proudly left behind. “looks so good on you, zo.”

“yeah?” zoro couldn’t help but feel a little smug at your reaction to it. “why didn’t you just say so?”

“was me rubbing up against you not a big enough hint that i found it hot?” you pull back, giving him a pointed look.

“how should i know?” his face heats up, singeing pink as he makes eye contact with you. “you act like this no matter what i do!”

“shut up.” you huff, looking away as your own cheeks become warm. “i do not.”

“yeah you do.” zoro’s hand found your chin, bringing your attention back to him. the blush that softly blooms upon his face dances along his cheeks as it spreads to his ears. “its cute.”

you open your mouth to retaliate once again but he beats you to it, using the opportunity to slot his greedy lips against yours as he pulls you in for another heated kiss. one that stole the breath from your lungs and replaced it with desire, a deep longing for his touch even though he was sitting right beneath you. you needed more.

decidedly, you easily maneuver yourself from his lap to his thigh, the thick muscle sturdy as you straddle it. biting back a moan, you let out a soft strangled noise that slips into zoro’s awaiting mouth. electricity coursed through you both, a shift in the air that wraps around your shoulder, weighing you down to sink your core further against his toned thigh.

“couldn’t even wait for me to get out of the suit, huh?” zoro whispers against your kiss bitten lips, hands gripping your sides as he holds you in place. if he wasn’t so damned strong you’d have moved by now, given into your lecherous thoughts that heat up your core with unadulterated need.

zoro flexes his muscle, testing you and gauging your reaction. even though you were separated by the almost comically skin tight clothing, the pressure sent your eyes reeling to the back of your head. with a short chuckle, he unflexes and the intensity simmers, leaving you full of want.

“zoro,” you mewl out in frustration, the sound dangerously close to a whine. your fingers grip into the plushness of his coat, more than ready to use it as leverage as soon as you can move your hips. “what are you waiting for?”

slowly, zoro begins to rock your hips against him, a steady pace that feels different from normal — it was alarmingly easier. the fabric of the suit was so slick on its own that you could slide along it with no problem, no hiccups.

“just gonna ease you —“ zoro starts before you smack his hands away. enough was enough and he was going far too slow for your liking. he lets go, his smirk resting on his face as he holds his hands up in false surrender before moving them to rest on your thighs. “impatient, huh?”

ignoring his comment, you start moving your hips and just like you thought – you could gain a lot of speed. with a steady hold on his jacket, your hips behind to move on their own accord, not an ounce of hesitation as your clit deliciously runs along his flexed muscle.

“z-zoro,” you breathe out, head lolling back as you keep up the pace. zoro could feel how wet you were, your own suit didn’t leave much to the imagination either and the wet spot forming on his covered thigh was steadily growing.

“feel good?” he asked, beginning to continuously flex and unflex his thigh, the ridges catching along your clit and only making you spiral more.

“mhm.” you nod, already feeling the coil within you ready to snap. “so, so good zo.”

“filthy girl.” zoro kisses along your jaw, moving down your neck as your pace stutters. you could always tell your praise affected him, stirring something deep inside of him as the ghost of the smile seeping into your skin while he brushes his lips along your jugular. “if you keep this up, i’m gonna have to get a whole new suit.”

“can’t stop—“ you gasp out, breathy pants leaving your lips as you get closer to your high.

“then don’t.”

two words that had an unintentional ripple effect, your body moving without any forethought, driven by instinct and lust for the man smugly sitting under you, expertly watching you with lust-blown eyes as you take what you need.

each delicious drag along his thigh was sending electricity up your spine, the pleasure invading your brain and turning it into nothing more than a dull static, desperately chasing the high that you’re sure will bring you clarity once again.

distantly, you hear zoro muttering sinful praises, running his mouth in encouragement as you ascend to new heights. your center of gravity was dependent on him and the mind-numbingly corded muscles that make up his thigh. one wrong move and everything would tilt on its axis — you’re not sure if the thought excited you or not.

“shit, i’m gonna —!” you yelp out, your voice finally able to break through the steady moans and whimpers that were flowing out of your mouth like water.

“let go f’me, c’mon.” zoro gives your upper thigh a harsh squeeze and your body locks up under the searing touch. it was earth shattering, so much so that the lower half of your body stuttered against the slippery fabric, cries of his name tumbling from your lips. “atta girl.”

the praise messed with your mind even more, melting it into a puddle that zoro was destined to lap up like a dog on a rainy day. you squeeze your eyes shut as the after effects still course through your body, gripping onto his shoulders like the world depended on it.

after struggling to catch your breath for a moment, you slump against him a bit, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. his palm soothingly runs along your back, easing you down and back to him, right where you belong.

“you good?” his low, gruff voice seeps into your skin and you only want to burrow deeper into the comfort of it. you make a small sound and reluctantly pull back, the look in his eye darkening. it was clear how much he wanted you.

“mhm.” you whisper, your palms running along the skin tight suit, agonizingly taking your time. your core still felt so gooey, like burning lava that was hot to the touch. each motion you take was lazy and uncoordinated until your fingers trailed along his covered abs that ripple in anticipation, making sure to outline each divot. “gonna take it off now?”

“takes too long to take the whole thing off. besides,” zoro’s breathing gets a bit heavier as your hand keeps moving lower to where he’s pulsing with need. there's a short pause before he roughly grabs you by your backside and lifts you up toward him, “can’t wait.”

moving over his covered length, the fabric was so thin you could feel him throb with need, each beat making your head spin more and more. zoro groans as you nestle in place, head tossing back at the sudden pressure. his hips jolt up to chase the thread of friction you tease him with, growing more impatient with every glide you take.

“cmon.” zoro grunts out, not wasting any more time as he takes control, moving your hips over him. you gasp as he thrusts against you, needily chasing his own high. “do what you did earlier.”

“now look at who the impatient one is. hmm?” you tease, grabbing onto his coat once again for leverage. but the need he felt transferred to you as soon as he let out another groan. mercifully, you give into his desire as you quickly match his pace, your arousal igniting throughout your body.

“shut up.” he barks with no bite. “you’re gonna make me cum in this thing.”

“isn’t that the point?” you tease, your tongue poking out along the shell of his ear, before your nose nudges along his earrings. “i want you to come for me, zoro.”

“fuck.” he gasps out, fingers harshly gripping your backside as he moves you quicker, the friction burning you both up, ready to consume you whole. with a curt slap to your ass, he gives his order. “keep going.”

and you do. moving along him as if you were really riding his cock just the way he likes, gliding over him as your clit throbs against his cock, the combined heat suffocating you both.

zoro tried to remain intact, but you could see him tearing at the seams, strings of his self control spiraling out of control as you do a number on him. pretty saliva covered lips parted with grunts steadily pouring out, face rosey and scrunched up in pleasure.

you move your hands to weave themselves in his hair, tugging harshly that forced a choked groan from him. through half lidded eyes, he looks back up at you with stars shining in his iris, twinkling with his love for you; a supernova waiting to explode.

“close for me?” you coo, watching as his mind goes blank, his grip tightening. “wanna watch you cum.”

“fuck—“ he head tosses back for a minute, steeling himself to outlast you as long as possible, but it was a lost cause. his next words grit through his teeth, his self restraint being heavily tested. “yeah, yeah i am. too fuckin’ pretty.”

“zo-.” you gasp, your second orgasm pooling in your core, ready to erupt as his compliment rushes down your body, tightening it up as it works its way down.

forever fated to be together, your pleasure merges into one — both of you hurdling over the edge. zoro cums with a grunt of your name before biting his lip so hard he almost draws blood.

there’s an inexplicable warmth that blooms between your thighs, a mix of your mess swirling with the warm cum that steadily flows out of his cock. the fabric that separates you is fully drenched with both of your arousal and the thought only drags out your pleasure.

“mmm.” you fully slump on him this time, curling into his body as yours turns boneless — nothing more than a heap of limbs with a heartbeat that beats to his name.

“happy now?” zoro breathes out, his chest still rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.

“mhm, so happy.” you purr, shutting your eyes.

“good because my suit is ruined.” zoro grumbles. as if he really cares. you let out a chuckle, your hand wandering along his biceps.

“that’s too bad.” you grip his puffy coat once again, pressing your lips to his ear, his earrings clinking together as you brush past them. “guess you’ll just have to take it off.”

thank you so much for reading ! ᰔ

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#zoro x reader #zoro roronoa smut #zoro smut #one piece smut #one piece x reader #op x reader #op smut #x reader

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rat-cannibal · 10 months ago

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can you do something like the VVVs love languages? like, how would they treat you?

(ima be 📱 anon :3)

tysm for the request!! i wont be doing valentino because he is Not My Cup Of Tea™ but i love this idea so much!

Vox's Love Language: Touch

this man absolutely LOVES to touch you

not necessarily in a sexual way (though he likes that too) but just in little ways

like holding your hand under the table while in a meeting

or having you sit on his lap while watching the extermination

at first, i feel like he'd be a bit shy about showing it

after all, you two just started dating, and he doesn't want to scare you off

but then you initiate physical contact and his brain starts to fry

You place your hand atop his, squeezing it gently. His hand is warm and calloused. Touching it sends a jolt of electricity through you, and you're not sure if it's prompted hy your feelings or his powers.

Glancing over at his face to gauge his reaction, you notice his screen has turned blue.

You frown. This is the first date, maybe he's not comfortable with touch?

As you move to remove your hand, though, he stops you, squeezing your hand firmly.

You look over and see his head turned, a slight blush on his screen.

assuming you're alright with PDA, vox would be all over that

always having a hand around your waist/shoulders in public

he wants to let people know you're his

not in a creepy way, you're your own person and he respects that, but he is really not a fan of the catcalls you sometimes recieve

so much so that he electrocuted a cat caller one time

nobody dares fuck with him, and hes going to make damn sure nobody dares fuck with you either

Velvette's Love Language - Gifts

we've seen velvettes powers and how she can materialize fashion out of nowhere

she would definitely make you an entire ass wardrobe full of new designs

even before you start dating, she'd always leave little presents for you

like penguin pebbling

maybe a ring that reminded her of you, or a bracelet, or a necklace

ok maybe she just likes seeing you wear her jewelry

but can you blame her? you look so cute in it

she'd make clothes specifically for you, too

You open your wardrobe to find that your usual attire has gone missing, only to be replaced by a plethora of new clothes.

Velvette had been complaining for a while that your clothing choices were too bland, but you never thought she'd do anything about it.

Everything she's made is completely tailored to your style.

As much as you want to be mad at her for messing with your stuff, you can't help the smile that spreads across your face.

You get dressed, eagerly awaiting Velvette's reaction when she sees you in her clothes.

and if you give her a present?

HOO BOY will she go wild.

over time she actually accumulates everything you give her and keeps it in her room, looking at it when you two can't hang out as a reminder of you

she knows it may look a little weird - shes practically built a shrine for you

but she doesnt want to lose anything you give her, she reasons

a reminder of your love for her being the first thing she sees in the morning and the last thing she sees at night is just a bonus

there you are!! my requests are wide open btw ^^

#hazbin fanfic #fanfic #hazbin hotel #ao3 writer #ao3feed #gn reader #lgbtqia #reader insert #fanfiction #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette x reader #hazbin velvette

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nickeverdeen · 4 months ago

Note

nsfw

hi!! hope you’re doing well, i was wondering if you could write a viktor hargreeves x fem!reader imagine where he’s eating reader out for the first time (either reader’s first or viktors!) i can’t stop thinking abt it 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Guided by Love | Virgin Viktor Hargreeves x fem!reader

Pairing: Viktor Hargreeves x fem!reader

Warnings: Soft!dom Viktor, bottom!reader, reader talking Viktor through it, eating out, Viktor is virgin, accidental overstimulation

——————

The night had settled in, wrapping the world outside in a comforting blanket of quiet. Inside, the dim light of a bedside lamp cast a soft glow over the room. You and Viktor were tangled up together under the covers, lying close as you recounted the events of your day.

“…and then, to top it all off, the cashier tried to charge me twice for the same thing. I mean, I get it, people make mistakes, but after the day I had, I was just… done,” you said with a sigh, feeling the tension from the day begin to melt away as Viktor listened intently.

Viktor chuckled softly, his hand gently rubbing your back. “You really did have a day, didn’t you?”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “Yeah, but it’s better now. Just being here with you makes everything else seem… small.”

Viktor’s expression softened, his heart swelling with affection for you. “I’m glad I can help,” he murmured, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, savoring the gentle contact. His kisses were always so sweet, so full of love. But tonight, there was something different in the way his lips lingered on your skin, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

Viktor’s kisses began to trail lower, moving from your forehead to your temple, down to your cheek, and then to the curve of your jaw. His hand slipped from your back to your waist, pulling you closer as he continued to explore your neck with soft, feather-light kisses.

You felt your breath catch in your throat, your body instinctively reacting to the shift in his touch. Viktor’s lips were warm and insistent as they found that sensitive spot on your neck, making you pause mid-sentence, your thoughts scattering in all directions.

“Viktor…” you whispered, your voice trailing off as his kisses grew more intimate, more purposeful. He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you, gauging your reaction.

There was no need for words; the air between you crackled with unspoken understanding. You could see the nervous anticipation in Viktor’s eyes, the way his chest rose and fell with each measured breath. You reached up, threading your fingers through his hair, and pulled him back down to you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that quickly deepened, the world outside fading away completely.

Viktor’s hands roamed over your body with a mixture of reverence and curiosity, his touch firm but still a bit tentative. You could feel the hesitance in his movements, the way he was learning and exploring every inch of you, and it only made you want him more.

His kisses moved from your mouth, trailing down your neck again, this time slower, more deliberate. Each kiss seemed to linger just a bit longer, his lips pressing into your skin with a growing hunger. When he reached the hollow of your throat, he paused, his breath warm against your skin as he hesitated for a moment.

You shifted beneath him, arching your back slightly to press closer to his touch. “Don’t stop,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please…”

That seemed to be all the encouragement Viktor needed. He continued his journey downward, his lips brushing over your collarbone, his hands sliding under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your sides. The feeling of his fingers against your bare skin sent a jolt of electricity through you, your heart pounding in your chest as the anticipation built.

Viktor sat up slightly, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. He looked at you, his expression a mix of desire and uncertainty. “Can I…?”

You nodded, lifting your arms to help him remove your shirt. Once it was off, he took a moment to simply look at you, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of your bare skin. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

His words sent a warmth spreading through you, and you reached out to pull him back down to you, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Viktor’s hands roamed over your body with more confidence now, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hips, before sliding up to cup your breasts.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his thumbs brushed over your nipples, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. Viktor seemed to be encouraged by your reaction, his touch growing bolder as he gently kneaded your breasts, his mouth trailing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, and lower still.

When his lips finally closed around one of your nipples, your breath hitched, a wave of pleasure washing over you. Viktor’s tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, his lips sucking gently, drawing out soft gasps and moans from you. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, the growing ache making you press your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the tension.

Viktor seemed to notice your need, his hand trailing down your body, over your stomach, until it reached the waistband of your pants. He paused, looking up at you for permission.

“Go ahead,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

With your consent, Viktor slowly slid your pants down, leaving you in just your underwear. He could see the wetness already starting to soak through the fabric, and it sent a thrill of excitement through him. He wanted to please you, to make you feel as good as you made him feel, but there was still a part of him that was nervous, unsure if he would be able to do it right.

He moved down, settling himself between your thighs, his hands gently parting them to reveal the wetness that had soaked through your panties. He hesitated for just a moment before he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh.

You let out a soft moan, your body arching slightly as you felt the warmth of his breath against your most sensitive spot. Viktor’s kisses trailed closer and closer to your core, his hands gently pulling your panties down until you were fully exposed to him.

He looked up at you, his expression filled with a mix of desire and nervousness. “I… I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, his voice soft and unsure.

You reached down, gently cupping his cheek in your hand. “It’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice filled with affection. “I’ll guide you through it. Just go slow, and pay attention to how I react. You’ll do great.”

Viktor nodded, taking a deep breath before he leaned down, his lips brushing against your folds. The first touch of his tongue against your clit sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your breath catching in your throat. Viktor’s movements were slow and tentative at first, his tongue gently exploring your folds, his lips pressing soft kisses to your sensitive skin.

“Just like that,” you encouraged him, your voice trembling slightly as he continued to explore. “You’re doing so good…”

Viktor seemed to gain confidence from your praise, his movements becoming more sure as he focused on the sounds you were making, the way your body responded to his touch. He started to experiment, his tongue flicking over your clit, his lips sucking gently, his fingers brushing against your entrance.

When he slipped one finger inside you, you gasped, your hips bucking slightly at the sensation. Viktor paused, looking up at you with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, your breath coming in short gasps. “No, it feels good… you can add another finger.”

Viktor did as you asked, slipping a second finger inside you, his movements slow and careful as he began to pump them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue as he continued to suck and lick at your clit.

The pleasure was building inside you, the tension winding tighter and tighter with each passing moment. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with anticipation.

“I’m so close, Viktor,” you breathed, your voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop…”

Viktor didn’t stop. He continued with steady, determined movements, his tongue and fingers working together to bring you closer and closer to your release. The sensation was almost overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and tension building within you until you were teetering on the edge.

And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you were pushed over the edge, your body tensing as a wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your back arched off the bed, a strangled moan escaping your lips as you felt the release wash through you.

But Viktor, not fully understanding what was happening, didn’t stop. His tongue kept moving, and before you could fully recover, you felt another surge of pleasure building up again, even more intense this time. Your body trembled uncontrollably as he accidentally sent you into a state of overstimulation, the sensation so overwhelming that you almost couldn’t take it.

“Viktor… wait, I—�� you gasped, trying to speak but finding it difficult as another orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing with the force of it. You barely managed to reach down and still his head, your body twitching as the sensations finally began to subside.

He pulled back immediately, concern etched on his face. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—are you okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with panic.

You were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to regain your composure. “I’m okay,” you assured him, managing a weak smile. “Just… give me a minute.”

Viktor’s eyes softened, and he reached out to gently wipe away the sweat from your forehead. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, his voice filled with remorse.

“You didn’t hurt me,” you replied, cupping his face with your hand. “It just… felt really intense. But it was good, Viktor. You did amazing.”

A blush crept up Viktor’s cheeks at your praise, and he looked away shyly. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his lips curving into a small smile.

As you both settled back into the sheets, Viktor hesitated for a moment before asking, “Are you… going to teach me more?”

You chuckled softly, your body still tingling from the aftershocks. “If you want, we can continue,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “But for now, let’s just rest.”

He nodded, a look of contentment on his face as he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you. “Thank you,” he whispered against your hair, his voice laced with genuine gratitude.

You smiled, closing your eyes as you nestled into his embrace. “There’s nothing to thank me for,” you murmured, already feeling yourself drifting off. “We’re learning together, Viktor.”

The two of you lay there in comfortable silence, the warmth of his body lulling you into a peaceful sleep. The night had been a series of firsts, but more importantly, it had been another step in building the deep, loving bond between you and Viktor.

And as you both drifted off to sleep, you knew that there would be many more nights like this to come—full of love, trust, and new experiences shared together.

#request #imagine #smut #the umbrella academy #viktor hargreeves x reader #viktor hargreeves #viktor hargreeves x fem!reader #viktor hargreeves smut

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dekustowel · 1 year ago

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[chapter 18: the one where they face the music]

summary: in which izuku midoriya, class 2A’s resident sweetheart, agrees to help you catch the eye of your crush, the infamously stoic, shoto todoroki. it should be easy enough, right? izuku is todoroki’s best friend and feelings aren’t that hard to catch. that might just be the problem.

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masterlist | previous | next

[taglist: closed] @cozy-dolly @apple9i3 @escadolle @moonshineandclearskies @awizuku @local-space-quexn @rainypeachbakerygoth @moonlightbaby10 @dreamland03 @hiqhkey @kisakitwister @flamingi @tansyfleurwhisper @h0n3ysgh0st @keigopika @hazelnutdreaming @whatamidoing89

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YOU ARE COMPLETELY HELPLESS.

And boy, oh boy, do you know it.

because only you could watch a boy walk into such a romantically decorated room, hand in hand with another girl, and still have your heart beat to the rhythm of every step he takes. only you could watch him tuck a stray hair behind her ear and still have your heart hammer against your chest at the idea of him doing that to you. and only you could watch as his emerald eyes scan the room subtly and delusionally think that he's looking for you.

there was probably a gaping hole on the side of your head, with the way your once boisterous friends stood quietly to your left, looking at you to gauge any negative reaction.

you weakly shoot a smile their way before gazing at the spectacle in front of you once more.

it doesn't take much for midoriya and camie to capture the attention of the whole room - izuku midoriya is gorgeous in his own right, he always has been - but tonight he is resplendent. black tuxes have always been known to make a man more attractive. sure, that was true. but as midoriya moves further into the room it became strikingly obvious not only to you, but to everyone else in the room, that the black tuxedo might've been made for him and him alone.

you slam your eyes shut tightly, knowing that if you stare at him any longer a pool of drool will drown you and everyone else in this auditorium. and your insurance definitely doesn't cover that.

you focus your attention on your friends and their dates standing next to you, turning your back to your crush and his date, ignoring the sinking feeling pooling in the pit of your stomach.

"now i feel insecure. babe, we should leave early and change into our jammies." kirishima mumbled, pulling at the points of his hair, and avoiding eye-contact.

"babe, you look great, stop it." she assures him, stopping his nervous tick it's tracks, and soothingly rubbing his back.

"i will admit he's better looking than anyone gives him credit for - dare i say, he's underrated." kaminari pipes up, earning a nod in agreeance from his girlfriend.

"babbeeee, you weren't supposed to agree." kaminari whines, earning and eyeroll from jirou.

"you feeling okay, y/n?" your best friend asks, causing your laughter at your electric friend to die in your throat, a look of concern pressed against his features. sero's date, a nice guy from general studies you'd met previously, shares the same look. clearly, sero has clued him in.

"mhm. i'm doing swell." you hum, as an itch crawls up the side of your arms.

was the room always this loud?

"are you even listening to me?"

no.

no you weren't.

that was a hard thing to do when the mumblings and giggles of the nearby groups of girls were reverberating in your ears at unsafe decibels.

it's not easy to ignore the sound of his laugh or see his perfect smile and look away, but you do it. you do it because you have to.

but for whatever reason it's damn near impossible to tune out the strangers who would've never given him the time of day otherwise talking about him.

"damn, i should've dm-ed him when i had the chance. he's hot."

"is the girl he came with his girlfriend? fuck, does she even know how lucky she is?"

"the things i would do to see that tux on the floor of my r-"

tune it out. tune it out. tune it out.

the longer you listen, the more enraged you'll become, and you have absolutely no right to be enraged. you're not his girlfriend. you're not anyone. you're not camie. you're not camie.

a calloused hand places itself on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts. your date stands next to you, a blank expression on his features, as he stares past you and over at the dazzling couple behind you.

you glance over your shoulder, watching as camie places a shy hand on midoriya's bicep, leaning into him as they greet his friends. she looks absolutely stunning, a little uncomfortable, but beautiful all the same. then again, you can't name a time she didn't.

why couldn't you have driven a less attractive woman into the arms of the man you love? it would have at least made you feel a little better about yourself.

"you need a drink," katsuki mumbles beside you, slicing your intense thoughts in half. he'd always been good at that, snapping you back into reality. you'd almost forgotten he was there because of how quiet he's been since you arrived. despite claiming that you would immediately part ways upon arrival, he hadn't left your side once since the night began.

you turned your attention to the typically-aggravated blonde standing closely beside you, as the light hand on your shoulder begins to steer you away from your anxieties in human form and to something less daunting: the snack bar.

"have you ever liked someone so much that you didn't care if they liked you back? you just cared if they were happy?" you asked a few minutes later, after tucking into one of the mini cupcakes they had on display.

"no, but it seems to be a common thing that you idiots feel," he responds honestly, handing you a cup of fruit punch.

"is this spiked?"

"drink it."

you do. it's fucking horrible.

"do you think it's a bad thing to feel?" you ask.

"i think it's neither here or nor there, it seems to be something you people with overly big hearts feel," your date responds, "i cannot imagine telling the person i like to be with someone else just because i want them to be happy. be happy with me or be single - that's how i feel about the whole thing."

"that's awful, kats."

"no, that's fighting for what you want. something you haven't even tried to do. you heard there was competition and gave up before you even tried. you don't even really know how deku feels." he retorted.

"of course, i do! i mean look at who he came with." you shift your head slightly in the direction you knew camie and midoriya were standing, still unable to look at them.

bakugou shakes his head, convinced that you have got to be the most daft person in this auditorium right now, "you are helpless."

you laugh at that.

"listen, you could stand here sulking all night, and fuck, i'd let you, i don't give that much of a shit," he continues, "but this stupid dance has been at the forefront of everyone's mind, and it would be great if i didn't have to hear you bitching and moaning about how you didn't have a good time tomorrow morning."

a mischievous, yet genuine smile creeps up your face as you extend your hand out to the blonde in front of you, "that was a roundabout way of asking me to dance, katsu."

"shut up."

IZUKU MIDORIYA IS THE DUMBEST MAN ALIVE. yes, that may sound like a bold claim coming from a place of regret and self-pity, and lord knows that may be true - but what if i told you it was the full unadulterated truth? that he truly was the most incompetent person in the room he was in?

would you believe me?

honestly, it wouldn't matter if you didn't.

because he believes it.

he believes it for me, you, and everyone else within a thousand-mile radius. he believes it from the top of his head all the way down to the tips of his toes. he believes it so much you can visibly see him shaking with anger at his position at the snack bar.

he doesn't even really remember how he got here. from the moment he stepped out of the 4-kilometer limo, his entire night so far has been blurring together.

he remembers helping camie out of the limo, he remembers entering the auditorium, and he remembers the whispers. but he does not remember seeing you.

for a moment he believes that you've decided to stay home. for a moment he is convinced he can leave this dance early and go and talk to you at your dorm a day early.

but that's not the case.

god, he wishes that were the case because now he has to stand here, against the back wall of the dancefloor, and watch you dazzle the room as you switch between dance partners captivating every person who your hands meet.

izuku midoriya is the dumbest man in the world today because he hurt you yesterday, and there is nothing he can do about it until tomorrow.

so he has to fill his night with playing the wallflower role, watching you from a safe distance. not that he could get any closer if he wanted to. sero's been watching him since the night began and there was almost no way in hell that midoriya was getting to you without going through him first.

he watched wordlessly as bakugou, his nemesis, best friend, and the other things in between, entered the rotation. he twirled you up in the air, the most angelic giggles escaping from your lips, cries of laughter between pleas of mercy.

izuku wonders about the last time that smile was directed at him. he also wonders how discreetly he can activate one-for-all before bakugou notices and attacks him first.

it's been a long time since midoriya felt an ounce of jealousy toward his childhood friend. i mean, you live 14 years in a man's shadow and you think that's the most resentment you can feel towards him.

how shocking it must be to realize that years of childhood trauma don't even hold a candle to what he's feeling right now?

midoriya threw his head back downing the last of his overly sweet, potentially-spiked punch.

"drowning yourself in gross drinks doesn't help by the way," an unexpected voice called from beside him. izuku glanced over only to be met with the side profile of his good friend, ochaco.

she leaned against the wall cooly, bopping her head to the pop music playing, "have you spoken to her yet?"

"i haven't. sero's been playing guard dog all night," the freckled teen commented, reaching to pour himself another drink before his hand was swatted away by his friend.

"you gonna confess?"

"i mean in a normal circumstance you would. but i don't even have real confirmation that she likes me. i only have context clues, and todoroki's cryptic ass texts."

"you need more than that?"

"hearing her say it would be nice because the googly eyes she's making at kacchan right now aren't helping my confidence much." midoriya laughed drily, resting his face in his palms, "it also doesn't help that she thinks I have feelings for someone else."

"you've both really made a mess of things." she comments bluntly.

"thank you, that's helpful."

it's silent for a few moments after that, causing midoriya to turn his head and look at his friend. she appears contemplative with her furrowed eyebrows and the chewing of her bottom lip.

"you want help, deku? fine, i'll give you help. you're gonna have a window of 17 seconds to get to her without anyone intervening." she states, out of practically nowhere.

"i beg your pardon?"

"i'm going to distract sero and his date, it's going to take roughly 17 seconds before he realizes what's going on and turns around to get to y/n, by then, i expect you to already be there confessing your undying love or whatever," she explains as she stands up.

"i can't-"

"can't or won't?" she shuts him down immediately, already walking away before midoriya was able to get a word in at all.

instantaneously, uraraka is at work, she is delighting sero and his boyfriend, and they're laughing as midoriya is cutting through the crowd as inconspicuously as possible.

he finally reaches bakugou, who is no longer dancing with you and instead recording videos for kirishima and mina.

"where is y/n?" midoriya hurriedly asks.

"what took you so fucking long, idiot?" the irritated blonde inquired.

"doctor's orders: stay away from y/n."

"and you actually listened to that crap? psh, now i really know you're an idiot," bakugou rolls his eyes, "she's dancing with that metal fucker from 2b."

it doesn't take much effort to find tetsutetsu. the strobe lights on the dancefloor reflects off him making him an equal parts blinding disco ball and a beautiful one.

"tetsu, do you mind if i cut in?"

his voice immediately sends shivers up your spine, causing each individual hair on your body to stand on end.

please tetsu. please tetsu. please tetsu.

the downside to tetsu being metal is that he cannot feel the change in pressure applied to his body. because there's no way in hell he would've felt the vice grip you had on his shoulders and still assuredly and happily say, "go for it, bro! don't let me stop you!" and immediately step back into the crowd. that would've never happened.

unfortunately it did.

"don't run away. i need to talk to you." he exhaled, reading your thoughts in an instant, and practically cementing your feet in place.

you rolled you eyes sublty, crossing your arms over you chest hoping that this action will protect your heart from the incoming stabbing pain it will face.

i mean isn't it obvious why he wants to talk to you?

he saw you here with bakugou at some point during the night and he probably asked todoroki what was going on, and the jig was finally up. odd are he told him everything. and it's most likely he's flattered but uninterested.

this was izuku midoriya trying to let you down gently and god, did you feel pretty fucking pathetic.

you inhaled deepy as midoriya took your hand in his and pulled you close to him, making it impossible for him to not feel the rapid way in which your heart was beating. your face heated at the thought of him knowing just how nervous he made you.

you'd love to bathe in the warmth of his body and breathe in his pine scent, but you couldn't help but wonder where camie was. imagine how she'd feel if she saw you pressed up against her date like this.

before you could make a move to put distance between you and midoriya, he began speaking.

"are you thinking about, camie?" midoriya asked quietly, clearly able to read the expression on your face.

"yeah." you replied timidly.

"she's gone." he responded, emphasizing that last word.

you slowly raised your head, to meet his eyes for the first time since he arrived in the auditorium, "what?"

"she went to go see her boyfriend."

"i don't understand," you respond, a fog you didn't even realize was there to start with began to clear.

"i've been trying to tell you that camie and i were never together."

"but her twitter-"

"she was trying to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, which obviously it worked because she left within the first 20 minutes of us being here to be with him, which you would've noticed if you weren't avoiding me," he explained, taking your hand in his, "camie and i were never together. she and i were just using each other as a distraction from our problems. we are friends. nothing more nothing less,"

you stared at him in disbelief, the fog quickly turning into a red haze of anger, "why wouldn't you just tell me that from the beginning? and why did you even need to use camie? i mean, we'd gotten pretty close by that point, i don't understand why you couldn't confide in me, izuku," you say half to him, and half to yourself, ripping your hand out of his grasp in the process.

he loved hearing you say his first name, but not like this. not when you're angry with him.

"it is complicated," he frowned, defeat playing on his soft features.

"bullshit. you didn't trust me enough to talk to me about your problems. midoriya, i told you everything." you whisper-shouted, your heart jumping into your throat.

you'd quickly become very conscious of the fact that you were having this heated discussion in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by your peers. and it sure as hell didn't help that uraraka, sero, and, bakugou were all staring at you two from a distant spot on the wall of the dancefloor.

exasperated and mildly embarrassed, you unhook yourself from midoriya's steady grasp on your waist and storm your way out onto the balcony. he followed closely behind.

you thought the cold air would give you some clarity or maybe some kind of idea on how to navigate this conversation, but all it really did was anger you further, "why don't you trust me?" you choked out, tears brimming in your eyes.

"i- i do." midoriya pleaded.

"you don't!" you spat, turning your back to him and looking out to the musutafu skyline, finally allowing the tears to kiss your cheeks.

"you don't," you whispered, hanging your head, "you opted to rent a girlfriend and confuse the masses rather than just talk to me about your problems."

"how do you expect me to talk about my problems to the problem, y/n?" he finally snapped, turning you whole body to face him with one swift movement.

you pause, mulling over the weight of his words for a second.

"you're the problem, y/n." he starts, running an exasperated fist through his hair, "you've been the problem since the first time you messaged me. honestly, you've been the problem since we met!" he's pacing now, "seriously what did you want me to do? come to you and tell you how you're all i can think about and that all i wanna do is punch my best friend in the face because the girl i am hopelessly in love with loves him instead?"

he's in love with you?

izuku midoriya is in love with you?

your body is like a magnet, it moves all on it's own.

"you know, i had this whole speech i was gonna give you about how i was sorry for letting you think that even for an instant, there was another girl in my life that meant as much to me as you did-"

"oh, were you?" you cut in, stepping closer to him.

"-and i was going to tell you how sorry i am that i made you sad and that if you allowed me to do right by you, i would do everything in my power to make sure that you never felt sad again." he declares, breathless by the time he's finished his monologue.

"you have feelings for me?" you ask, inching closer to him.

"it's relatively impossible not to, y/n, have you met yourself?" he responds with a sigh, bringing his hand up to rub his forehead.

"poor taste." you quip, getting a rare eye roll from the boy in front of you.

"so, you started talking to camie to distract yourself from your feelings for me because you wanted me to be happy?" you question slowly, wanting to catch every change in reaction his face makes. you get a little closer.

"and you dropped todoroki without telling me because you thought i was into camie, and you wanted me to be happy?" he retorted. he's moving a little too.

a small laugh can't help but play in your throat before you deeply exhale, and bring your palm up to cup his freckled cheek. as if it were the most natural thing, he begins nuzzling into the warmth of your hand.

"i hate when he's right," you hum, thinking of your best friend and the first words he ever said to you when you mentioned involving midoriya in this whole mess, "he's never gonna let me live this down." you murmur, caressing the freckles under your thumb.

"when who is ri-" midoriya tries to inquire, but the words die in his throat, as you move towards him suddenly, lifting your head, and pressing your lips against his. after a few moments, you make a move to pull away, but the hand that wraps around your neck, and the other that holds your cheek holds you stationary, and simultaneously causes the kiss to deepen significantly. it does take much longer to confirm your suspicion that there is probably nothing else in the world you enjoy more than kissing izuku midoriya.

"wait, wait, wait," the greenette pulls away, earning a whiny groan from you, "as much i love that, i need to know what this means. i need to hear you say it."

"it means that i am hopelessly in love with you too. and that i'm sorry for putting you through that emotional rollercoaster. it means i am yours for as long as you'll have me." you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder.

"hm." midoriya hummed in satisfaction, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, "can we agree on something?"

"sure."

"when it comes to one another, let's vow to be eternally selfish."

"pft, vowing to have you all to myself forever?" you laugh, "consider it done."

——————————————

FUN FACT: i am a sucker for a happy ending.

——————————————

[taglist contd.] @adoringizu @charmingizu @killerqueen84 @imjustasimpxd @mehhhhhd @l0svers @charliepoopyfart @cocoa-bitter @itgetzweird08 @todomaniac @drugs-for-memes @3mcmarvelisruthless @mrsgrantspector @pastel-prynce @leathernourishingshoepolish @bruh-tato-chip @izukuisbaby @motzgurke @randombabywitch @xiaos-wif3 @deanstolemydragon @naladarkclouds @madebytinypals @beingbrokenfitsus @simplysaiyan @yes-imma-simppppppp @deitysnips @deeplightgarden @thesheepwithclaws @madamslayyy

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comatosebunny09 · 10 months ago

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He’s exhausted.

Of that much, you are sure. His languid suckling on your neck serves as a gauge for it.

“It must be hard running Hotel Transylvania in the Underdark,” you muse from your side. There’s humor tinging your voice, mingled with the crisp flipping of a page.

Exasperation lives in his once he reluctantly retracts his fangs. “I swear, if I have to pull another spawn off a gnome, I will spear them all on pikes.”

“Awful ‘Vlad the Impaler’ of you.”

Astarion snorts, the cool rush of it tickling your damp skin. “Gods below. One could only dream of being that demented.”

“Yeah, well. We both know you love the others too much to hurt them.”

“Mm, I beg to differ.”

Astarion hums, and you feel it spool in your stomach. Affectionately, he noses the outer shell of your ear. Electricity shoots like pins and needles to the crease of your thighs when he nips you. And the little jolt your body gives draws a husky chuckle from him.

You find the contents of your book no longer interesting; your attention is diverted to the hand on your hipbone.

Astarion drifts in and out of sleep, waking every so often to suckle on your neck like a sleepy newborn.

At some point, you awaken to him rutting against you.

“Astarion.” Your voice holds an edge to it—a warning.

“What?” You can practically hear the pout taking residence in his voice. “It’s been ages since I’ve last felt you.”

He mouths the curve of your shoulder whilst an artful hand bunches up your nightshirt, seeking the supple glide of your hip beneath.

You snort, snapping your book shut. Shift the slightest to cast him a humored look over your shoulder. “Ages? Ages, Astarion? You mean just last night?”

“Ages,” he solidifies into the space behind your ear. Goosebumps ignite in the wake of his breath cooling your skin. “A day without your body cradled to mine feels like an eternity, my love.”

You roll your eyes at his theatrics. Can you really fault him? Time moves differently here in the Underdark—if it moves at all. The absence of the sun has thrown your circadian clock entirely off-kilter. For all you know, he may very well have suffered eons without you.

“Please,” croons Astarion, trailing wet kisses down your nape. His hand continues on an excursion southward, kneading the fat of your thigh. It craters between his fingers as he squeezes the inner slope of it, and you bite your lip to ward off a growl. “I only need a taste.”

Somehow, you doubt that. It’s never just a taste with your love, now is it? But his begging is enough to coax a resigned sigh from your lips. Surely, you’ll regret this later.

“Fine,” you relent after tucking your novel beneath the pillow.

You yip as the world pivots and wooshes, and suddenly, you are on your back. You giggle as he climbs overtop you. Have all of five seconds to catch the boyish gleam of his eyes before he dives in to sample the skin of your throat.

Instinctively, you bury ten fingers in curls of white. And how sweet your voice sounds, pinched from your lungs in a whimper as you feel the searing graze of his fangs on your neck. Your breath hitched in anticipation; every nerve in your body trained on him. However, the prick of his fangs never comes.

Instead, they continue their journey southward, past your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, towards your navel…

How prettily you arch against him, a sultry laugh parting your lips.

He disappears between your legs, tenderly kissing your thighs, dragging his lips toward the folds of your labia. Each kiss he delivers makes your hips twitch delightfully, seeking the wet contact of his mouth like a beacon.

He groans something pleased between your legs, kissing your lower lips before his tongue parts your labia in wet, languid strokes.

Instinctively, your hands fly to his hair. Your lip snags between your teeth as you bite them against a smile. You arch your body into him. He groans appreciatively, anchoring your hips down to the bed. The lewd, wet sounds he makes between your legs make you flutter.

“Delicious,” he hums between each stroke of his tongue. A supplication to the Gods for supplying him such a grand feast.

#astarion x you #astarion smut #astarion x female reader

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hodgepodgequack · 4 months ago

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Emio Demo 2: Electric Boogaloo

So it’s been more than 24 hours since I beat the second part of the demo (I hate that we have to wait 5 days for the next part man) and I have some thoughts.

First of all, I called it when I said that Kuze knows Utsugi from 18 years ago (I was wrong about her being the sibling of one of the female victims though). Instead her connection is through the disappearance of her brother Makoto (haha Danganronpa reference) and Utsugi was in charge of that. Must be tough to see the person who was supposed to bring her brother home (and failed) after a murder that reminds her of the og incident.

So let’s talk about Makoto first. According to the game, Junko had not come home for some reason so he went out to look for her. Junko comes back (clearly shaken) and Makoto is nowhere to be found. I wonder if she came home late because the OG killer was targeting her and M someone managed to find her in time, but something bad happens to him. What happens: Killer kills Makoto and for some reason threatens Junko to not be a snitch otherwise he would come after her. (Also possible he abducts him for some reason and tells J to not tell or she will never see him again)

why this stops the murders completely I don’t know, but it is possible the killer thought he might have been getting caught soon and that’s why he stopped. But if that was the case he could have silenced her permanently right then and there. Unless she sees the act occur, killer knows she’s there but doesn’t see her and makes a bluffing threat saying I know who you are and if you snitch it will bite you in the ass. Hence she survives and comes home scared.

Who did it: Now in order to keep someone silent you need to bribe (or as mentioned beforehand threaten) said person or make them believe that no matter what no one will believe them. Maybe the culprit is a cop. And Utsugi works with the police. Maybe J can’t bring herself to trust anyone in the force (again another reason why he joins because if you want the job done right, you have to do it yourself). And that would explain why she’s standoffish towards U because she still doesn’t trust him.

Another Observation: the game mentions it’s a possibility that Makoto was the original culprit (because the murders didn’t stop until he disappears). He was old enough to pull it off. But that means something would have to have happened to him. Did he run away and leave a note that only J saw? Or did she see him messing with bodies and he asks her to hide his body because he can’t live with the guilt anymore now that she saw him and he offs himself.

Game is also adamant that the mystery man who went missing after the first girls death may know something (was he an accomplice I don’t know) there’s not much info I can theorize about him right now.

Kamis age is still not revealed to us in this chapter. Very very sus. I wonder if he is Makoto and he just has amnesia. Him and J could both be adopted or step siblings. Only problem with this is that J should recognize him.

Additionally the game mentions Kami can’t have a gun because he is a terrible shot. I wonder if at some point you have to pick between him and J to raid a place and the gun makes a huge difference. Hell I wonder if knowing said info can influence the game (because it is completely optional dialogue)

Speaking of potential game mechanics: phones. During some point of my gameplay I used to phone to call everybody that was in my contacts. While playing through Ayumis section, she gets a call from the protagonist (whether or not this is scripted I don’t know) and she doesn’t pick up. There’s also an option at some point if you call the office to leave a voicemail (which I didn’t take, I’m curious to see if anyone else did). I wonder it this is going to be a serious mechanic that at some point you need to call XYZ at this time or something bad is going to happen to them, or if it’s a way for the game to gauge the players playstyle (just like they did in the Girl who Stands Behind).

Now I’m not done talking about the demo part 2, but I’m going to leave this post here for now because it’s getting long and I want to dedicate more time to Kamada and the Taxi Driver is separate posts. See you in a bit.

#emio #emio theory #emio the smiling man #famicom detective club

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raisindave · 8 months ago

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[Chapter 21] Seeing the World Through Ballistic-Tinted Glasses

Seeing that the person in the mirror's movements matched your own was shocking. Makeup, carefully applied using methods beyond your comprehension, made your eyes look like a cartoon. If it weren't for the coven of yipping friends around you, you might have insisted the false eyelashes were too much. Long hair, soft and fragrant, spilled over your shoulders as the first sip of liquor started to breathe warmth into your system. One embarrassing story about a disastrous date led to an epic about having a scandalous one-night stand with a psychology professor, and the gaggle of girls was a whirlwind of preparation. Bubbling laughter erupted around you, eagerly fastening straps and clasping buckles on tight heels.

After all, birthdays were precious to you. Each year, another year of life lived became more important to celebrate. One more year that you got to live. So many good people are gone before their time, and a bubbling sense of shame urged you to live each birthday to the fullest. Another private number's missed call. If it were work-related, it would come from the flip phone. There's no way in hell Laswell or anyone important would be dumb enough to contact your personal cell. This scam caller is persistent.

If anything, one of the leading factors that inspired your change in heart and recent optimism about your body recalls your latest encounter. Being asked to parade yourself in front of evil men, smirking and snuggling with men that repulse you, made you fight for control of your own sexuality. Marín doesn't own you. Neither does Julien, and neither does Laswell. Tonight is all about reminding your conscience of that and reclaiming yourself. The sentiment was made easy by a batch of eager friends who are hungry to get you as drunk as possible on your birthday. Judging by the pace of drinks you were downing before leaving the house, the current mission was on schedule. Heels clacked down your porch stairs, funnelling into the back of some poor taxi driver's car, having to cooperate with six drunk women's hooting and hollering.

It didn't take long until you surfed between bars, gauging each drink's price and finding the music playing at each location progressively better. Streetlights twinkled as the sidewalk rose to greet you with each staggering step. The night was electric, drinking in the humid air inside each bustling bar, endorphins dancing through your mind like your friends around you. It's like the DJs were reading your mind, finding the perfect song to make you sway your hips low and slow, lapping up the movements around you.

You thought you were hallucinating. Someone must have slipped something into your drink, or maybe someone pricked you with a needle of some sort- because there's no way you just saw what you think you saw. No, it's real. That's Kyle- Kyle fucking Garrick.

"Cricket!" Gaz shouted, sidling through the crowd to reach you, raising his palm to catch your attention above the jumping partygoers.

"Lua answer yer' fucking phone!" Soap added, bounding past him, clearly already half in the bag.

"How the fuck did you find my number, find me?" Your mind was still reeling with the recognition, the walls separating work and your social life now a distant memory.

"Let's just say the SAS has their methods." Soap boomed, pulling you into a sidefaced hug.

"You used SAS tracking technology to track my location?" you screamed, eyes wild with disbelief, pushing him off you as you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity.

There was Ghost, too, who was eyeing you blankly. You refused to let him suck the life from you. Not today. Soap responded with a shrug and feigned innocence, leaving you to question the validity of his whole story. Either way, you weren't done with questions just yet.

"Where's Price?"

"It wasn't the geezer's type a' crowd," Gaz added, "plus, it already took our combined effort to convince this fucker to come with'" he gestured to Ghost, who was side-eyeing some particularly rowdy patrons beside him.

Seeing these guys not in full-body armour and tactical gear was so bizarre. They all looked so ordinary. Jeans and rolled-up dress shirts, Gaz wore a flannel. Ever the oddball, Ghost still didn't drop his mask; instead, opting for a privacy mask with the bottom half of a skull face printed on it and a black hoodie with the hood up that gave roughly the same amount of coverage as his regular balaclava. What did catch your attention was pale, brown hair that fell in strands in front of his face, where previously you had questioned if he even had hair under that mug. It made your heart skip. Reminding you of the last time you dared to see more of what he looked like under his mask, only to get snapped at like a shepherd nips at his lambs. Be it from alcohol-fueled confidence or the fact that this wasn't in the formal military setting, you decided that you no longer had any reason to fear him, and you insisted on making sure he knew that.

"Well, you guys need to catch up with us if you want to roll with us," you slurred.

"Oh, don't worry," Gaz put his arm around you, nearly putting you in a chokehold, "we stopped at a couple a' nearby pubs to see if you were in them."

Satisfied with their answer, though still no less confused, a song change forced you and all your friends to the middle of the dance floor with a choir of squeals. Once again, returning to the lively music, though now with an odd and slightly unsettled exhilaration that surged into your veins. Deafening bass music that pounded through your chest and passing laughter exchanged with giddy friends did enough to dissuade your withholding. They're here because they wanted to be here. Be here for you. An excuse to let loose after back-to-back missions promised a life-or-death situation in each.

The crowd parted for a split second to let you catch Soap and Ghost leaning at the bar as they kick their heads back to shoot down a shot of amber liquid, Ghost quickly slipping his mask back down to reassume its protection. Without the searing taste affecting them, they moved forward, raising their fingers immediately to the bartender to repeat the round. At least they weren't expecting you to play babysitter, and they seemed perfectly content to handle themselves independently, despite this country being a foreign land to the native Brits.

Song after song had you bouncing on your toes, belting each lyric to the nostalgic music with friends' lacing fingertips, ensuring you keep pace with their dancing. Hypnotic, neon lights flashing beams across your vision, searing past washes of clouds spurting from fog machines, alcohol making every atom in your body alight with energy. Air waved over the exposed skin of your chest, and you felt your hands glide over your own body, downing every molecule of energy in the room. The silky blue two-piece that had been picked out for you embraced every curve of your body, providing delicate pressure to squeeze every inch of your body into just the right places.

Enraptured by the music and focused on dancing to the pounding beat, the girls didn't notice you slip away. You caught a glimpse of Soap flirting with your friend, leaning back against the bar and whispering a seemingly hilarious story into her ear. His arm around her was placed in a way you doubt her deadbeat boyfriend would approve of, but she seemed more than eager to return the attention. The mental image was a vision you washed away with the fruitiest, sweetest cocktail the bartender could manage. The world became smoother, gliding with your eye movements, and thrumming music became almost algorithmic in your mind, consistent and delicious.

Sweeping eyes across the bar, your vision narrowed in on Ghost, calmly watching the bounding dancing, a black shadow cast on the corner of the bar. He stood resting his shoulder on the back wall, as he'd seemed to stow himself into the corner against the bar, giving him an excellent sniping position. He didn't seem uncomfortable though, nor displeased, only calmly observing, flickering his eyes over passing partygoers. You had always craved the unattainable, the impossible. It made your blood burn. A simmering ember lit into a raging inferno in your chest as you had just poured metaphorical gasoline, in the form of alcohol, onto your bonfire. The music around you was nothing compared to the thrumming pulse in your ear, fingernails raking over clammy palms. The climax of a thunderous song was the final kick to jump-start you into movement.

You had already closed the distance, slipping your fingertips over his veined knuckles, taking the top of his hand in your palm. His fingers were still chilled, wet from the glass of iced whiskey he held seconds ago. Lifting his hand from the surface of the bar, you laid it to rest on top of your eyes, providing temporary coverage of your vision. Raising your now free hand, your digits slithered across his Adam's apple, using your thumb to pry his mask to rest just over his nose. Your mouth collided with his, pressing glossy, sultry lips to taste him in a clashing surge of heat. You didn't even have time to consider if this was a good idea before his hand on your back was pressing your body into his. Feverish and urgent, tasting each other's mouths as his searching hands lapped at all the energy across your skin, seemingly content with your blindfold. He tasted like Kentucky whiskey, warm and spicy, snaking hot fingers to explore the side of his neck. Lively partygoers provided privacy in numbers, just another couple in the crowd caught up in the charged atmosphere. He urged you closer with every gasping breath, clashing hot tongues together in frantic passion. it felt so right, so necessary. Like the feeling of your desperate exploration of each other's mouths, and hungry panting was an oasis in a barren desert.

You didn't even remember parting the kiss before you were whipped away. Another chain of squealing friends dragged you away from your encounter, denying your mind a moment's rest to gather itself. Your forearm collided with the swinging door of the women's bathroom, meeting the stark, sterile, and particularly shocking lighting of a public bathroom as your eyes reeled to adjust. Friends, strangers, and a pair of two women making out in the corner were what you were met with when you stumbled into their presence. Your eyes were wide, wild and dazzled. They were saying something to one another, but the crashing heartbeat in your ears hampered your ability to hear them.

"I just made out with my Lieutenant," you blurted, the words leaping from your throat.

"Is that a good thing?" One of the unfamiliar women spoke up.

"What's your rank again? Weren't you like a Sergeant or something?" Your friend spoke up, pushing up her eyelashes as she leaned into the mirror, "I can't remember if that's higher or lower."

"Oooh, like Saving Sergeant Ryan?" Added an eager, though thoroughly intoxicated girl in a stunning red dress, eyes wide with excitement.

"Sarah, it's Saving Private Ryan," another stranger corrected.

"Oh."

"I'm so fucked," you breathed, a bubbling cackle betraying your seriousness, eyes wide and focusing to stare into nothingness.

"Well, if you play your cards right..." your friend added, eliciting a chorus of hoots and hollers from the surrounding ladies before the topic shifted to something new.

That wasn't quite the comfort you were seeking. You didn't want to fuck him. That was just a spur-of-the-moment, self-soothing and slightly horny decision. He's probably thinking the same thing, if he's even thinking about it at all. For all you know, he could be doing the same thing with the next giggling pair of tits that walked into his field of view. Too many possibilities and a lack of certainty left your mind swimming, blinking past the trepidation and smoothing down jumbled hair in the shared mirror.

For the rest of your friends, sucking face with some random stranger at the bar was less than uncommon, eagerly listening to the details, though not particularly bewildered. You, however, had a million and one reasons to be bewildered. You crossed an uncrossable barrier, which could permanently mar your record. Sure, you were seeking agency, but you weren't expecting your first action to be to dance tongues with someone who you thought wanted you dead.

Swallowing your restraint, the dance floor was now yours to command. Crackling with newfound confidence and a faint sense of lingering dread, nobody could tell you each song wasn't matched your heartbeat. Swaying and grinding with the motions against people you'd never see again, your mind dared to question if any of your other teammates had seen your brush with Ghost. That's a thought that's best pocketed for later. Right now, the only thing in the world that mattered was the intoxicating movements of your dimly lit ballroom.

A pull at the back of your skirt sends you staggering backwards, nearly falling if you weren't stopped by what felt like a brick wall. That smell, Kentucky whiskey and musk. A gasp slipped from your lips, tilting your head back and seeing Ghost's hungry eyes staring down at you, craning above your vision. His body was hot, radiating languid heat, creating a sweltering inferno that matched yours.

"Close your eyes, darling," he purred into your ear.

You didn't need to be told twice, shutting your heavy eyelids and rolling your shoulders back to invite whatever mystery was incoming. His palm rested on your belly, securing you firmly to rest against him as he prepared something beside him. His chest was flush against your back, treacherously warm and solid. A lack of ocular stimuli left you whirling to identify surrounding sounds instead but returning empty-handed with the familiar pounding of lively club music.

"Good. Now, open your mouth." His voice growled through you, sparking goosebumps and electricity to surge down your back.

Parting your lips, you surrendered yourself to whatever was about to happen, feeling cool air flood across your damp tongue. Your mind flickered to the thought of this being some sort of military hazing joke, but the way his hand reached around your neck and gently tilted your chin to face the ceiling left you reeling. In a second, cold liquid splattered into your mouth, catching droplets that dribbled down your chin. Whirring neurons scrambled to connect sensations to reason. Ghost had just spit a tequila shot into your waiting mouth. Worst of all, you obediently and eagerly gulped up the alcohol he spat into you, leaving your face flush with searing heat. He permitted you to close your mouth with gentle guidance on your jaw, allowing you to graciously swallow the bitter liquid as another shiver ran down your spine. His fingers slid over your molten skin, a cold hand splayed across your heaving belly, finding yourself feverishly pressing your whirling hips into him, slow and dangerous. This cannot be happening. You are so fucked.

"You liked that, hm?," he breathed into your ear, voice gravelly and low.

"I've seen better."

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indiapressuregauge · 4 months ago

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#Bi-Metal Temperature Gauges #Electric contact Type #Digital Pressure Gauge #Piston Operated Gauge #pressure gauges #Mercury Filled Temperature Gauges #absolute pressure gauge #2 Valve Manifold #Gas Filled Temperature Gauges #Special Gauges #Direct Flanged With Coupled Sealed Gauge #Screwed Flush Type Gauge

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beomnalwonnie · 2 years ago

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the killers embrace | ethan landry

ethan landry x oc! fem

"Sometimes the line between love and madness is so thin, you don't know which side you're on until it's too late."

a/n: i haven’t watched scream 6, so most of this is based off of tiktok/scream wiki pages. i’ll be updating this story sporadically as i am a college student. this story is also posted on my wattpad @beomnalwonnie. I recommend reading it there because the aesthetics are much better.

word count : 3.5k

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

chapter one

The frat house was alive with the energy of the Halloween costume party. The walls were shaking from the blaring music, and the air was thick with the mingling scents of cheap beer and sweat. The guests were decked out in a myriad of costumes, ranging from classic vampires to modern pop culture icons.

Dahlia sauntered in fashionably late, her Juliet Capulet costume billowing behind her, heads turned to take in her breathtaking beauty. The intricate lacework of her dress was a masterpiece, transporting her straight from the 21st century back to the 1960s, and her hair was styled with long extensions, gold headband pushing her soft hair away from her face. Her makeup was flawless, completing her stunning look, and she felt confident and ready to party.

As she weaved through the throngs of people, she felt the weight of curious gazes on her back. She brushed off the feeling and made her way to the kitchen, intent on quenching her thirst.

Ethan, dressed in a homemade costume as the brown knight from the cult film Murder Party, nervously stood in the corner of the crowded Halloween party. His cardboard helmet obscured his face, but his eyes were fixated on the girl who had just walked into the kitchen. She was talking with her friends, wearing a sparkling, gold dress that caught the dim lighting perfectly. Her beauty left Ethan in awe, and he couldn't take his eyes off her.

Chad, his best friend, noticed Ethan's gaze and followed it to Dahlia, whom he knew as Sam and Tara's new roommate. He nudged Ethan and grinned, urging him to go talk to her. But Ethan was hesitant, his nerves getting the best of him. "She's too beautiful," he protested, "I'll just embarrass myself."

Rolling his eyes, Chad said, "Come on, man, just go say hi. What's the worst that can happen?" Ethan took a deep breath, considering the possibility. He knew he should talk to her, but the fear of rejection held him back. As he debated with himself, he watched the girl and her friends laughing and having a good time.

As Dahlia closed the cooler, she sensed someone watching her. She looked up and saw a tall, handsome stranger staring at her from across the room. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away, trying to play it cool. She couldn't help but feel drawn to him, even though she didn't know who he was. Ethan felt a bolt of electricity shoot through him when his eyes met hers. For a moment, he was paralyzed, lost in her gaze. She quickly looked away, sending him a shy smile and a small wave. Ethan's heart raced as he considered making a move. He could feel the warmth of Chad's encouragement, but the fear of rejection held him back.

But before she could gauge his reaction, her roommate Tara greeted her, pulling her onto the dance floor and away from the mysterious stranger. Dahlia felt a pang of disappointment but tried not to let it show. She knew that she couldn't let herself get too attached to a stranger at a party, no matter how handsome he was.

swaying to the beat of the music, Dahlia couldn't help but think of the cute boy she made eye contact with in the kitchen. Who was he, and why was he staring at her with such intensity? The question lingered in her mind as she lost herself in the revelry of the party.

Getting lost in the music, Dahlia hadn't noticed Tara being pulled away by Jason. She had heard some rumors about him from her roommates, but she had never really paid attention. Now, as she watched him whispering into Tara's ear and leading her away from the party, a sense of unease settled in her stomach.

"shit," Dahlia muttered under her breath. She sends a quick text before taking a deep breath and pushed her way through the sea of drunken college students, each seemingly more oblivious than the last.

Jason was known for being a serial dater, charming girls with his good looks and smooth talk, only to dump them unceremoniously once he got what he wanted. Dahlia had always been wary of guys like him, but she couldn't deny that he had a certain charisma that made him hard to resist.

As she scanned the party for her friend, Dahlia noticed a group of guys gathered in the corner, watching Jason and Tara with interest. They looked like trouble, and she had a feeling that something bad was about to happen.

Without thinking, Dahlia made her way over to the group, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hey," she said, trying to sound confident. "What's going on over there?"

The guys turned to her, and for a moment, she thought they were going to ignore her. But then one of them spoke up. "Just watching Jason work his magic," he said, smirking.

Dahlia felt a wave of disgust wash over her. She knew she was in over her head, but she couldn't let them hurt her friend. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she pushed her way through the dense crowd, her eyes darting around the room as she searched for Quinn. The pulsing beat of the music and the throng of drunk, sweaty college students only added to her growing anxiety.

Finally, she spotted Quinn in the kitchen, chatting with a group of girls. "Quinn!" she exclaimed, breathless. Quinn turned to her, her face contorting in concern at Dahlia's distressed expression. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Tara," Dahlia gasped. "Jason's got her. I texted Sam, but I need your help to get her."

Quinn's expression hardened with determination, and she shoved her solo cup into the hands of the blonde next to her, spilling some of the contents in her haste. "Let's go," she said firmly, following Dahlia's lead.

As they arrived on the scene, they saw Chad shoving Freddie away from Tara, his face twisted in anger. "Get your hands off her," he spat.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I was fine!" Tara exclaimed, her voice rising in anger.

Chad turned to face Tara, his own anger still seeping off him. "He was going to take advantage of you!" he replied, his voice tense and firm.

Tara's eyes widened in disbelief, and she couldn't help but feel offended by Chad's accusation. "I can handle myself," she retorted, her voice shaking with frustration.

Chad's expression remained stubborn as he replied, "I saw the way he was looking at you. He was only interested in one thing, and I wasn't going to let that happen."

Tara's anger only intensified at Chad's words. "You don't get to decide what's best for me, Chad. I can take care of myself," she shot back, her voice laced with irritation.

Behind the two, Quinn's eyes narrowed at Freddie, who was now backed against the wall, looking smug. "What the hell were you thinking?" she snapped.

Freddie shrugged, trying to play it off. "I was just having some fun," he said with a smirk and pushed himself off of the wall, ready to walk away from the situation, but Chad wouldn't let him go.

Chad's grip on Jason's shoulder tightened, and Jason winced in pain. He tried to push Chad's hand away, but Chad's strength was too much for him. "Come on, man, let me go," Jason pleaded, his voice trembling with fear and anger.

As the two of them argued, people began to take notice, whispers replacing the booming sound of the music. Some of them tried to intervene, but Chad was not backing down. Tara felt herself growing increasingly embarrassed by the scene, and she pushed Chad away from Jason.

"Stop it, both of you!" she exclaimed. "This is ridiculous. Jason wasn't doing anything wrong, and Chad, you need to calm down."

Chad was still fuming, but he backed off at Tara's words. "I was just trying to protect you," he said, his voice still raised.

"I don't need your protection," Tara snapped back, her own anger flaring.

Dahlia watched the exchange with growing panic. She felt like she was suffocating, her heart racing and her hands shaking. She knew she needed to get out of the party before she had a full-blown panic attack. She bolted for the door, her eyes darting around frantically as she tried to find an escape.

As she stumbled outside, she almost ran into Sam, Tara's sister. "Hey, where's Tara?" Sam asked, looking concerned.

Dahlia struggled to find the words to respond. Her mind was racing, and everything sounded muffled and distant. She pointed back to the party, where the commotion was still unfolding. Sam nodded in thanks, but Dahlia was already on her way out of the house sitting down on the porch, gasping for breath as she tried to calm herself down.

Throughout the entire encounter, Ethan couldn't help but keep his eyes on Dahlia. Sure, he knew it was creepy to stare, but he was so captivated by her that he simply couldn't look away. From the moment he saw her soft smile while dancing with Tara, to her panicked face when she realized who Tara had taken company with, Ethan couldn't help but feel a strong desire to protect her. He felt a strange connection with her, almost like they were meant to cross paths.

While watching the events unfold, Ethan's face hardened with anger at the sight of Dahlia's distress. He didn't even know this girl, yet the thought of her feeling upset made something deep inside him bubble with a fierce protectiveness. He kept his cool, though, as he watched Tara's face of confusion turn into anger when Chad grabbed onto Jason's shoulder. Ethan couldn't help but notice how protective Chad was of Tara; he clearly had a thing for her.

Things began to escalate, and Ethan let his gaze fall back to Dahlia, who was now looking around frantically. He felt a sudden urge to comfort her, to make sure she was okay. Without hesitation, he abandoned his drink, which was rather disgusting anyway, and followed her out of the frat house.

As he hurried after her, Ethan couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration mixed with nerves. He had never been the type to approach a girl like this before, but there was something about Dahlia that made him want to try. He caught up to her as she was sitting on the porch steps, fiddling with her fingers and softly talking to herself. "Hey," he said softly, trying not to startle her. "Are you okay?"

Dahlia turned to him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Oh, um, yeah, I'm fine," she stuttered, trying to regain her composure. "I just needed some air."

Ethan nodded, sensing that there was more to her distress than simply needing fresh air. He took a step closer to her, noticing the way she flinched slightly. "Look, I know we don't know each other, but I couldn't help but notice that you seemed upset back there," he said, gesturing back to the frat house. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Dahlia's eyes flickered with gratitude as she looked up at him. "Actually, that's really kind of you. I felt like I was suffocating, and I needed to get out of there," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan nodded sympathetically, remembering how his own anxiety had caused him distress in the past. He had always been shy and introverted, struggling to socialize and make friends. But there was something about Dahlia that made him feel comfortable, like he could open up to her without fear of judgment.

"I get it," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "If it's any consolation, I really like your princess costume." As he spoke, he couldn't help but notice how her dress flowed around her, the gold complementing her honey colored skin. If she was a star, she would be the brightest one in his galaxy.

Little did he anticipate the girl's gentle laughter in response. The sound was akin to the delicate tinkling of bells, resonating through the air and infusing his heart with a sense of warmth. For a moment, he sat there, utterly captivated by the sweet sound, committing it to memory as best he could.

He snapped back into reality when she said, "Thanks, but I'm actually dressed up as Juliet from Romeo and Juliet." Ethan's face scrunched up in confusion as he thought back to his freshman year of high school. Surely, he remembered something from the movie with Leonardo DiCaprio as Romeo. "Is she not a princess?" he spoke, his brow furrowing.

He looked at her and the way she hugged her small body. Her head leaning on her knees for support. "Not really, no," Dahlia responded softly and continued, "she's just wealthy."

"Oh," Ethan spoke, feeling a bit foolish. He cursed his younger self for not paying better attention in English during its Shakespeare unit. There was a small silence before Dahlia spoke up.

"Your costume," she started and turned her body to fully look at him. "What is it supposed to be exactly?" Ethan gave her a small smile. "It's a character from a horror movie, Murder Party. You wouldn't know it if you're a casual horror fan."

Dahlia nodded and took a deep breath. "So you're a horror geek," she said with a small smirk.

Ethan's face began to feel hot from her comment and he had to look away so she couldn't see the blush that was beginning to form on his cheeks. He regretted not having told her it was some stupid last-minute costume. Dahlia noticed his tense nature and felt a bit guilty. "Hey, I'm not making fun of you," she started softly. "I was only teasing. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Ethan let out a small laugh, trying to ease the tension. "No worries, I'm just easily embarrassed," he said with a shrug.

Dahlia nodded and they fell into a comfortable silence. Ethan couldn't help but steal glances at her, taking in the way her hair fell in front of her face softly and the way her eyes sparkled in the dim light. He felt drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the sound of his phone buzzing in his pocket.

Muttering an apology he quickly pulled out his phone to see multiple texts coming from Chad, asking where he was and letting him know everyone was about to leave.

Before he could say anything to Dahlia, Ethan watched as the front door slammed open, revealing the Carpenter sisters in the midst of a heated argument. Tara was trying to walk away from Sam, who was yelling after her.

"Tara, please," Sam pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice. I don't want to see you hurt."

Tara stopped in her tracks, her eyes flashing with anger as she whirled around to face Sam. "You don't get to tell me what to do," she spat, wrenching her wrist out of Sam's grasp. "You don't get to waltz back into my life after five years and act like you know what's best for me."

Dahlia winced at the venom in Tara's voice, and she could see the hurt and confusion etched on Sam's face. Her gaze flickered between the sisters as if trying to decide whether or not to intervene.

Ethan shifted his weight uncomfortably, not wanting to intrude on the sisters' argument. It wasn't long before someone else emerged through the door, his roommate Chad pushing through eyes searching as if he was looking for someone.

As Chad approached, Ethan couldn't help but feel a little frustrated. He had been so close to having Dahlia's attention all to himself. "You were here the whole time? I was wondering why I couldn't reach you," Chad said with a hint of annoyance. Ethan nodded casually, trying not to show any signs of discomfort. He turned his attention back to Dahlia, only to find her looking up at Chad with a soft smile. It was the same smile he had been hoping to receive from her.

"Hey Chad," Dahlia greeted him warmly. Ethan couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. He wanted Dahlia's smile to be reserved for him, not for his roommate.

"Hey Dahlia. I see you've met my roommate," Chad said, grinning at Ethan. Dahlia met Ethan's gaze and a playful smile graced her lips, causing his heart to skip a beat. The two sisters' argument that had been raging just moments before was now forgotten.

"Yeah. He's a bit mysterious though. He hasn't told me his name," Dahlia said, still smiling at Ethan.

Ethan blushed once again, feeling a little flustered. He held out his hand for her to shake. "Ethan Landry. Though I could say the same for you, Juliet," he said, attempting to make a joke. Dahlia giggled softly and shook his hand. Their handshake lasted longer than it should have, both of them caught in a trance.

But their moment was interrupted by the shouting sisters once again. "I'm just trying to look out for you," Sam argued.

"Well, don't!" Tara exclaimed, clearly agitated.

Chad coughed awkwardly and moved past Dahlia and Ethan, trying to break up the Carpenter sisters. His eyes darted around, taking in the scene unfolding before him. More people started to walk out of the Frat house, the party seemingly moving somewhere else. The air was filled with the distinct smell of alcohol and sweat, and the thumping music made it hard to hear anything else.

As Chad tried to intervene, Anika and Mindy made their way towards the commotion. Anika excitedly ran towards Dahlia and hugged her from behind. "How are you Dahlia? I saw you leave earlier. I wanted to chase after you, but someone kept me busy." she said, slightly smirking up at Mindy, who only rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's implications.

Dahlia smiled warmly at Anika's affection. "I'm alright. I had good company–" She heard everyone collectively gasp and turned her attention to the unfolding drama. Sam had been drenched by a group of girls walking past, the alcohol staining her clothes and hair. "What the fuck?" Sam exclaimed, looking at the girl who had poured her drink all over her.

"You know what you did," the girl smirked.

With fury in her eyes, Sam shoved the girl by her shoulders and pushed the remaining alcohol bottles in her hand, causing them to smack into the ground and shatter. The sound of glass breaking reverberated through the air, and everyone turned to look at the scene unfolding before them.

"You'll pay for that," the girl hissed, her voice low and menacing.

"I don't think I will," Sam responded, her smirk never leaving her face.

Dahlia winced at the tense atmosphere and made her way over to Sam, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let's just go, Sam. It's not worth it," she said softly, trying to defuse the situation.

Ethan watched the scene unfold, the feeling of protectiveness towards Dahlia returning. He couldn't stand the idea of anything happening to her. Anika noticed the look on his face and nudged him with her elbow. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. Ethan nodded, trying to shake off the feeling of jealousy and possessiveness he had towards Dahlia.

Sam took a deep breath, her fists clenched at her sides. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded and allowed Dahlia to lead her away from the confrontation. As they walked away from the party, Dahlia turned to Ethan, who had walked up to them.

Ethan pulled out a pack of tissues, holding them out to Sam. "Um, I have tissues if you want tissues," he said, realizing his mistake as he looked down at his hand. "I mean, I have three tissues."

Dahlia smiled warmly at Ethan's awkwardness, and Sam took the tissues, beginning to wipe the drink off her chest.

Just then, Anika exclaimed, "I don't know about you all, but I'm about to pass out!" She grabbed onto Dahlia's arm and asked Sam, "Do you mind if we stop by your apartment?"

Sam stopped wiping momentarily, looking at Anika with a sense of resignation. She didn't really have much of a choice. "Sure," she said with a sigh, nodding in agreement.

Anika was already pulling Dahlia along with her, and she turned back to Ethan. "You too, Ethan!" she said excitedly. Mindy, Anika's girlfriend, gave her a look of disbelief and said, "What the hell?" But Anika ignored her and continued to walk, "Come on, it'll be fun!" with Dahlia right beside her, following behind Tara and Chad.

As they walked away, Dahlia couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in the pit of her stomach. She knew that things were only going to get worse from here on out.

#ethan landry #scream #scream vi #jack champion #ghostface #ethan landry smut #ethan landry imagine #jack champion imagine #sam carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko #scream imagine #scream fanfic #ethan landry fanfiction #jack champion fanfic #thriller #romance

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ragekitsune · 4 months ago

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How a zapling can defend themselves

-Using their hands like electrical paddles used for CPR a zapling can deal dangerous amounts of electricity to a victim, but only if both hands electrical senors (the black pads on their palms) touch the victim.

-Zaplings from the great turf war lack electrical sensors and instead use their suction cups on the underside of their tentacles to electrocute targets. Both tentacles suction cups have to make contact.

-Newer batches made after the great turf war have hand senors but can still use their suction cups if their pads are damaged.

-They can use weapons, but due to a lack of ink, they can't rely on a weapon, unlike normal inklings.

-When a zapling is overcharged and ready to attack, their tentacles will glow like inklings do when their super gauge is full.

#splatoon #splat3 #zapfish #inkling #hybrid #zapling #lore #small artist #ask anything #traditional art

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amnottrak-official · 10 months ago

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Sydney Trains M set

Class of electric train operating in Sydney, Australia

The Sydney Trains M sets, also referred to as the Millennium trains, are a class of electric multiple units that operate on the Sydney Trains network. Built by EDi Rail between 2002 and 2005, the first sets initially entered service under the CityRail brand on 1 July 2002 after short delays due to electrical defects. The M sets were built as "fourth generation" trains for Sydney's suburban rail fleet, replacing the 1960s Tulloch carriages and providing extra capacity on the suburban rail network. The sets currently operate on the T2 Inner West & Leppington, T3 Bankstown, T5 Cumberland, T7 Olympic Park and T8 Airport & South lines.

Quick Facts M set, In service ...

M set

M32 at Sydney Central

Lower deck

In service

2002–present

Manufacturer

EDi Rail

Built at

Cardiff

Replaced

Tulloch carriages

Constructed

2002–2005

Entered service

1 July 2002

Number built

141 carriages

Number in service

140 carriages

Formation

35 4-car sets

Fleet numbers

D1001–D1041, D1043–D1060, D1062–D1073 (driving trailers)

N1501–N1540, N1543–N1560, N1562–N1573 (motor cars)

M1–M35 (full 4-car sets)

Capacity

452

Operators

Sydney Trains

Depots

Auburn

Lines served

Inner West & Leppington

Bankstown

Cumberland

Olympic Park

Airport & South

Specifications

Car body construction

Stainless steel

Train length

81.55 m (267 ft 6+5⁄8 in)

Car length

20,532 mm (67 ft 4+3⁄8 in) (D)

20,243 mm (66 ft 5 in) (N)

Width

3.03 m (9 ft 11+1⁄4 in)

Height

4,381 mm (14 ft 4+1⁄2 in)

Doors

Plug-style, 2 per side

Wheel diameter

940 mm (37 in)

Maximum speed

130 km/h (81 mph) (design)

115 km/h (71 mph) (service)

Weight

207 t (204 long tons; 228 short tons)

Traction system

Alstom ONIX 1500 2-level IGBT–VVVF

Traction motors

8 × Alstom 4-EXA-2144 226 kW (303 hp) 3-phase AC induction motor

Power output

1,808 kW (2,425 hp)

Electric system(s)

1,500 V DC (nominal) from overhead catenary

Current collector(s)

Pantograph

UIC classification

2′2′+Bo′Bo′+Bo′Bo′+2′2′

Braking system(s)

Automatic air, electropneumatic and regenerative

Coupling system

Scharfenberg coupler

Track gauge

1,435 mm (4 ft 8+1⁄2 in) standard gauge

Design

Vestibule

The Millennium train, like the entire Sydney Trains fleet and electric NSW TrainLink fleet, is a double decker. It is a four car consist, with the middle two cars being non-control motor cars and the two outer cars being driving control trailer cars fitted with the pantograph. The Millennium train was the first to be equipped with an AC drive system unlike the Tangara, which has a DC drive system. The sets usually operate in eight-car formations with two four-car sets combined. While the Millennium train concept is an evolution of the Tangara concept (manufactured by A Goninan & Co), the Millennium train introduced new features such as internal electronic destination indicators, automated digital voice announcements for upcoming stops, a return to reversible seating, surveillance cameras, wider stairways, a new safety yellow colour scheme, and push-button opened internal doors. The Millennium Train also introduced crumple zones to absorb impact in a collision. Interiors were designed by Transport Design International.

The train also features emergency help points, allowing passengers to contact the train crew in an emergency. The help points are located on the sides of the stairwell to the upper deck. There are actually two help points in the same location, with a large one at face height with a microphone and speaker, and a lower one with a microphone only. There are also emergency door releases which were retrofitted to the trains. These allow passengers to manually open the doors in an emergency, as recommended in the report for the Waterfall rail accident. The retrofit program was stated as having been completed in November 2014.

Like with the T, A and B sets, the M sets feature Scharfenberg couplers.

M sets are 3.03 metres (9 ft 11+1⁄4 in) wide, being classed by Transport for NSW as medium width trains, which allows them to operate within the whole Sydney Trains suburban network.

Unlike sets M2–M35, set M1 has a slightly different interior design with differently coloured doors and different seat handles for unknown reasons.

Delivery

Stairwell

The cars were constructed by EDi Rail at Cardiff Workshops. The contract included a 15-year maintenance agreement with EDi Rail to maintain the trains at a specialised maintenance centre at Eveleigh. During testing and initial revenue service, they ran as four car sets, with eight car sets commencing service towards the end of 2002 after further testing. All 35 four car sets were delivered by October 2005.

The initial order signed in October 1998 was for 81 carriages, in December 2002 an option was taken up for an additional 60. In February 2017, Sydney Trains exercised an option to extend Downer's maintenance of the trains for a further 10 years.

Criticisms

The Millennium trains were criticised for having several technical problems and causing problems with Sydney Trains, they were referred to in the media reports as The "Mi-lemon" and "Millenni-Bug" as a result. Some of the problems were caused by insufficient power supply on the overhead to cope with the power demands of the more technologically advanced trains causing them to shut down. Software bugs also contributed to the trains' poor reliability.

The Millennium trains were withdrawn from service in April 2003 while the problems were being rectified and a full audit was carried out. They were subsequently reintroduced into service in June 2003 and have since been operating on the T2 Inner West & Leppington, T3 Bankstown, T6 Carlingford, T7 Olympic Park and T8 Airport & South lines. After the new timetable was released on 26 November 2017, M sets began as 4-car services on the T5 Cumberland line on both weekdays & weekends, along with a few 8-car Waratahs.

In service

External Carriage Camera Trial

Trial cameras

In late 2008, two Millennium trains were fitted with external cameras atop of carriages near the doors, testing their use for the then-future Waratah trains. These cameras were subsequently incorporated into the final design of the Waratah train.

Lines serviced

The Millennium trains typically operate on the following lines (normally described as Sector 2):

T2 Inner West & Leppington Line: Leppington or Parramatta to City Circle via Granville

T3 Bankstown Line: Liverpool or Lidcombe to City Circle via Bankstown

T5 Cumberland Line: Leppington to Richmond

T7 Olympic Park Line: Shuttle from Lidcombe to Olympic Park on weekdays

T8 Airport & South Line: Macarthur to City Circle via Airport or Sydenham

Maintenance Depots

The trains were originally maintained at Eveleigh Maintenance Centre.

As with all other trains, these trains are not exclusively kept in Auburn overnight. They only need to return to the depot for maintenance, and at other times, they may be stabled at various yards on the lines that they operate, such as Liverpool and Leppington yards -Anastasia the train girl

I won’t be able to post as much cause mental issues plus I just came out to a friend as trans so I have to deal with that to

sorry for taking so long to respond! I've been busy lately.

9/10 good train (minus the bugs)

(also i hope all goes well for you! I enjoy your train asks, but don't feel bad if you don't want to send them as often.)

#trains #this one was cool #it seemed to sort of introduce concepts that were perfected for modern trains #so that's cool

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disco-elysium-via-polls · 1 year ago

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"I came in contact with the burnt out ruins of the past, lieutenant."

KIM KITSURAGI - "That does sometimes happen." He hands you the remains of your ledger.

Item Gained: Ledger of Failure and Hatred

KIM KITSURAGI - "You dropped this -- are you okay to proceed?"

"Let's solve this case." [Leave.]

Just nod. [Leave.]

+5 XP

Level up!

KIM KITSURAGI - "Good."

TUTORIAL AGENT - The Ledger of Failure and Hatred is a special item that can be used both as an INTERACTABLE and a TOOL equipped in your HELD slot for skill bonuses. Find it under the TOOLS tab in your INVENTORY.

LEDGER OF FAILURE AND HATRED - This is the same ledger you found in the trash, only *worse* somehow. It makes you think about the letter. About the woman's handwriting. About not wanting to get out of bed in the morning.

The Ledger gives us +1 Inland Empire, +1 Empathy, and -2 Authority. I probably won't be equipping it.

Interacting with the ledger simply opens the same dialogue menu as before.

WHITE MOURNING

Temporary research bonus: -1 Authority: Little guy gets further and further away

Research time: 5h

You see yourself from above. You’re passed out on the blue tiles of the hostel room floor. Even from this distance you can see your eyelids flutter -- at the mention of what? A great white object, letting out its sweet smell, like a Lily of the Valley. The little man’s forgotten its name, but he still remembers the feeling. And look, he moves! The feeling animates him. He instinctively reaches out for the feeling's best friend -- a bottle of Commodore Red. He puts on his disco clothes and gets smaller and smaller...

As you can see, we've opened up the top part of the Thought Cabinet This one is non-negotiable - I equip it immediately.

There's some things we can do now that we've rooted through the dumpster, and since we're already at Kim's Kineema...

COUPRIS KINEEMA - In the cabin you see a set of steering levers, a radio on a hook, a pull-out toolbox and the soft glow of the fuel pre-heater gauge.

"Kim, how do I turn on the headlights?"

KIM KITSURAGI - He turns the pre-heater on, waits, takes out his keys and says: "All right. Ready. I turn, you press START -- it's next to the pre-heater."

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - He's downplaying his excitement -- the lieutenant is more than happy to show off his precious carriage.

Press ENGINE START.

COUPRIS KINEEMA - The dashboard lights up with orange glow. The rounds per minute gauge jumps and the engine of the Coupris Kineema comes to life with a whiny growl.

Press the button labelled HEADLIGHTS.

COUPRIS KINEEMA - The lights unfold with a little click, casting electrical light onto the ground before the vehicle.

KIM KITSURAGI - "There you go. I'll turn them off from the remote once you're done -- we just need to stand in front of the machine now."

5. Close the door. [Leave.]

INTERFACING - As you hold your ledger's clip under the headlamp, an iridescent hologram appears: a street grid and the veins of a great river. A familiar sensation washes over you...

KIM KITSURAGI - "There she is: Revachol West." There's a note of pride in the lieutenant's voice.

DAMAGED LEDGER - Around the borders of the watermark are dozens, no, *hundreds* of micro-perforations.

Look at the shimmering street grid.

Look at the perforations.

DAMAGED LEDGER - The rectangular watermark is overlaid with the logo of the RCM, and yet the major arteries of Revachol are all recognizable. They shimmer in the Kineema's headlights.

Wait... look around you.

"Where are we on this?" (Point to the halogen map.)

DAMAGED LEDGER - You catch a faint glimmer from a broken beer bottle. In the distance -- sounds. Two men engaged in a drunken argument, followed by the closing of some distant window.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Ah, Martinaise at night," he smells the air and says.

"Where are we on this?" (Point to the halogen map.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "Let me see." He takes the ledger for a moment and inspects it.

"Right here," he says, his finger near the top of the map, on a segment of coast jutting out into the great ocean.

"Seems nice."

"Seems like a shithole."

"I'm sure I've seen worse."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh yes. Coal City, Le Royaume, the Burnt Out Quarter..."

2. Look at the perforations.

DAMAGED LEDGER - There are many of them. And they are divided into three separate rows.

Tally up the different rows.

(Let's look at something else.)

DAMAGED LEDGER - The first row has 18 dots.

Not bad.

What about the next one?

DAMAGED LEDGER - Not bad for what? You don't even know what it means yet.

What about the next one?

DAMAGED LEDGER - The next is the longest. It runs all the way around the border and then some.

Count them individually.

DAMAGED LEDGER - There are so many it's hard to count. More than 150, at least. Maybe even 200.

What about the last row?

DAMAGED LEDGER - The last row has three perforations.

Three, that's it?

DAMAGED LEDGER - That's it.

3. "Hey, Kim, what do all these holes mean?" (Point to the dots on the watermark.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "Those are *perforations*. They represent your record as an officer of the RCM. They're your statistics, as it were. I should have guessed you'd keep a record, officers often do. Let's take a look..."

"The first row represents your years of service. *Eighteen* years? Okay -- not bad at all. What did you do before you volunteered?"

"Wait, *eighteen years* I've done this?"

"Got drunk like a megastar?"

"I walked the land telling whores and liars of the End to come. There are 9,855 days remaining."

"I was a hobo and I lived under a boat."

"Probably some boring office job. Same as everyone else."

"I feel like I just went around apologizing all the time."

"Do you really think I have any idea?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "That's what it says. I might've guessed even longer based on your age... what did you do all those blissful years of your youth?"

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi

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fridgemagnethusband · 2 years ago

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Die Schöne und das Biest

Interlude II: On the Subject of Flowers

Hello buttercups <3 I've just this week settled into a real schedule after starting a new job a couple months back, so I'm only now feeling like I'm in a place where I can confidently write again. I prooomise you a real chapter is coming soon, but in the meantime, please enjoy interlude part 2, electric boogaloo <3

February 12, 19XX

The morning before last, the Duke passed on a letter summoning me to the estate of the venerable Lady Beneviento in one week's time. The man does not readily give away his mood, but I find I’ve come to be able to accurately gauge his disposition over the years, and recognized a sort of hesitation in his actions. When I asked about his apprehension, he only gave a measured smile and stated that it would be unwise to decline the Lady’s invitation, but urged me to practice vigilance in her company all the same.

During my brief time here, I’ve come to understand that Lady Beneviento is quite reclusive, but have not otherwise heard anything that makes me believe I need to be cautious in her presence. Still, the Duke has been undeniably kind to me since my arrival, and I am inclined to trust his judgment on account of the fact that he has so graciously put a roof over my head and sells my tinctures and salves to my mistrustful new neighbors. They seem content enough to overlook the fact that I’ve made them so long as they don’t have contact with me directly, which suits me just fine. I only hope they can put their suspicion aside long enough to visit me should they need a remedy with a more specific application, which is what I suspect the Lady’s summons are about. Time will confirm this.

February 19, 19XX

I’ve returned from my visit with Lady Beneviento, whom I found to be a most courteous host despite her supposed preference for solitude. I was summoned in the hopes that I could help to treat the uneasiness of her mind and perhaps her sleeplessness should I have the proper means. I told her that the two may very well go hand in hand, with the former causing - or at least exacerbating - the latter, and that if my recommended treatment of chamomile and lemon balm tea did not help alleviate the symptoms of her insomnia, I would prepare her a powdered valerian root to use in addition to the tea as a sedative before bed. Either way, I have been asked to return in another week’s time to join her for tea and to reassess the treatment if needed. I did not ask about the sources of her anxieties despite my curiosity, with her garb being indication enough that she is in a period of mourning. I’ll have to needle the Duke into telling me which of her relatives has passed, and will bring her flowers in testimony of my condolences at our next meeting.

On the subject of flowers, I noticed an unfamiliar variety of yellow blooms on my way to the estate. I meant to ask Lady Beneviento if she knew what they were, but could not find an opportune moment to broach the topic and did not get the sense that she cares for such things on account of her home’s decor, which largely consisted of dolls. I didn’t think one plant would be missed, so I unearthed a small cluster on my way home to be potted as soon as I returned. Perhaps next week, I will find the time to inquire either with her or the man who was tending to the headstones in the family cemetery. In the meantime, my new friends will grace my humble porch.

March 16, 19XX

I’m growing to enjoy our weekly visits. They are always under the pretense of treatment, but I don’t know that we ever spend more than a quarter of an hour discussing her condition. The rest of the time is filled with zacusca and tea and dolmas, and - much to my surprise - talk of local plants. I could not have been more wrong in my assumption that Lady Beneviento doesn’t care for them; she seems to have a keen interest in them, and as such, I have given her my copy of Alkaloids of Mountainous Plants to read. She regrets that I couldn’t meet her groundskeeper before he passed, as he seems to have known more about (what I assume is) the yellow Aconitum leading up to the estate. In the meantime, she has urged me not to handle it, citing their likely poisonous qualities; I am not unaware of the potential for aconite poisoning, but assured her I would not for the sake of her peace of mind. She needn’t know about those I borrowed.

April 23, 19XX

Late (Early?) - Frantic knocking at the door nearly frightened me to death as I was working at the table with G. I do not receive customers during the middle of the day, let alone during the small hours of the morning. When I opened the door, I was greeted by torrential rain and a young couple huddled underneath the overhang of the roof with their small daughter in tow. I ushered them out of the cold, and directed the father to lay her out on the bed so that I might assess her. They reported the girl had been complaining of severe stomach pain, and that they put her to bed in the hopes that her concurrent fever would break. When she became unresponsive in the middle of the night, they brought her to me. I set to work on stripping the child and sponging her skin to promote dispersal of body heat, and when her fever finally subsided some time later, I sent them home with a tincture of wormwood and walnut hull, along with strict instructions to return or call for me should her condition worsen again. I took the relief in their faces as payment, and have a strong hope that perhaps word of mouth will garner me more trust and business in the future.

(I regret having to shut G in the wardrobe for the duration of the couple’s visit, but he says that it is comfortable enough in my presence.)

April 30, 19XX

It seems word of mouth travels faster and farther than I might have hoped. The Duke has informed me that my wares have sold out, and that there is a mounting demand for my wormwood and walnut tincture. Each time I’ve found myself in the square to replenish stock, I’ve been hurried under one roof or another, and have been all but begged to treat what seems to be the same illness at different stages. It seems to start with severe fatigue and a fever, progresses into nausea and vomiting, and ends with the most dreadful, unproductive cough. Initially I suspected improperly prepared fish to be the culprit, and advised against eating anything that wasn’t thoroughly cooked through, however, this does not seem to be the common thread between the afflicted…

At the risk of being accused of heresy or following hunches, I believe it is exposure to something in the church. I cannot say what exactly they are being exposed to, as I do not attend, but if I had to venture a guess I would attribute it to either spoiled wine or bread. Unfortunately, there do not seem to be many opportunities to meet with the village head - Mother Miranda - outside of dropping in on one of her sermons. Perhaps I’ll ask Donna (she has insisted I drop the honorifics) if she knows of a better way to bring the illness to her attention. Should there not be one, I will simply have to brave the church for the sake of the sick.

May 7th, 19XX

To say I upset Donna during our visit today is an understatement.

Our social call started just the same as any; with her delightful cooking, hot tea, and easy conversation. At one point she mentioned that she’d heard from the Duke that my wares were selling quite successfully, and that she was glad to hear that I was finding more work here. I believed her attitude to be genuine despite our previous discordance when discussing why I had decided to leave my village for this one.

It was at this point that I brought up the illnesses I’d been treating; I detailed the collective symptoms of the villagers, and suggested that perhaps something that is being consumed at the church is contributing to this widespread ailment. This seemed like an appropriate enough time to ask if or when I could have an audience with Mother Miranda outside of sermons, but I had scarcely finished posing the question before the teacup in Donna’s hand crashed to the floor. She reached for me as I knelt to pick up the pieces, and I felt the tremble of her delicate hands over my own.

“Please. You mustn’t bring attention to it. To yourself.”

I tried multiple times to explain to her that I have a duty to look after the people I treat, even at the risk of putting myself in confrontational situations, but she only clasped my hands harder, as though that could make me understand.

“I admire your devotion, truly, I do,” her voice wavered and her chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths. “But Mother Miranda is not a woman you should cross if you truly wish to build a comfortable life here.”

“Cross her? If bringing an illness to her attention is enough to be considered crossing her–”

As quickly as I had grown angry, I fell silent. Donna released her grip on me to lift the veil from her face, and my gut twisted as our eyes met for the first time. Knotted scar tissue heavily disfigured the right side of her otherwise perfect face, but this was clearly not the source of the pain behind her piercing hazel eye.

She breathed my name, pulling me from whatever stupor I must have been in.

“Swear to me that you’ll stay away from her.”

The poor dear seemed so distraught at that moment, I agreed outright in the hopes that it might quiet the panic in her voice. However, I do not believe this to be a promise I can keep if I’ve inferred the meaning of her actions correctly. I will have to ask the Duke what he knows of this.

Taglist: @artist-bby @ambiguous-g @honimello @butterflysist3r @spac3witch @xyinparadise @fantrashtic-emily @emmathedestroyer@eleeloo @strayczennies@reddbishop @cakelover365 @jackysenpaii @lilcocakitty @pinemangojuice

#die schöne und das biest #karl heisenberg #resident evil village #re8 #karl heisenberg x female reader #karl heisenberg/female reader #donna beneviento #self insert #reader insert #fluff #angst #eventual smut #slow burn

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generalluxun · 2 years ago

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Fanfiction: Dates, Places, People, and Things Chapter 3(of 3)

Author's Note: And here's the end to this little slice of life. I actually toyed with Lukabrina before I fell for Adribrina, and I find I can enjoy both quite equally. The interactions, and circumstances are different enough that they are two very different ships. I hope you enjoyed! As always link to my AO3 in the bio, and full text after the break.

Luka relished the wonderful melodies in the wake of Juleka’s success. His sister's normally halting notes played out in joyous ascending scales. They twined and danced with Rose’s in the sweetest of ways. Not for the first time Luka wished he could capture one tenth of the music of the living in his own work. If only others could hear what he heard.

Yet, something was missing. Luka raised his head from the group hug, and his eyes confirmed what his ears had already told him. He carefully disengaged from the quintet, his motion breaking the hug but not the closeness. The remaining four gushed and murmured among themselves in an intimacy no less strong for the lack of physical contact. Luka slipped away to the lone figure sitting apart. Her head was down and she was brushing futility at her sweater which was… Oh Issi .

Luka leaned forward with his hands on the speaker in front of her, “You have always been one to get into your work, haven’t you?”

Sabrina looked up sheepishly, she shook her still-messy hands and said,”Can I use the bathroom to wash up?”

Luka offered her a hand up. When she hesitated he glanced down at it and then gave her a smile. She put her hand in his and he drew her to her feet. “I’ve got a better idea, if you’ll allow me.”

She just nodded, stepping in a little closer to him. As they headed for the stairs below deck, he saw her glance back to the band. “I can’t fix your speaker without some fourteen gauge wire.”

Luka displayed all his electrical knowhow. “Is that expensive?”

Sabrina shook her head, “I have some at home, I just can’t do it now.”

Luka led her back towards his room. “Gee, you can’t do us a complete and total favor right this second? What kind of friend are you?”

He grinned down at her, laying it on thick. It worked. Sabrina was jolted out from under her raincloud. She puffed out her cheeks and stuck her tongue out at him., adding a couple of playful love-thumps with her fists to his arm. “Senpai’s so mean!”

Luka ushered her in. “the worst, I know.” He stole a kiss from the top of her head as she passed.

Once inside Sabrina looked around curiously. It occurred to him she hadn’t actually been in his room during any of her visits. She paced the perimeter of the small cabin, examining each and every thing with an inquisitive eye. Luka knew he could leave right now and she might not even realize his absence for a good five minutes. Sabrina in appraisal mode was a focused creature.

Instead, he waited and watched, feeling the way she interacted with all the little parts of him scattered about the room. Would she even remember the handprints if I took her back upstairs now? The fact that the answer might be no made him ache happily inside.

“Do I pass muster?” he asked.

“Oh!” Sabrina jumped, hands going to her face only to leave smudges. She shook her fingers futility and rubbed her mouth on her already messy sleeve. “Sorry. I was just curious…”

Luka stepped over to her, surveying a new Kitty Section poster he had put up. It was printed professionally, and en-masse. An ‘apology of sorts’ from the passenger up in the bow of the ship; Sabrina’s idea, Rose’s work. “Curiosity’s never led us wrong, so far.”

Again, she scooted closer to him as they stood together. Luka put his arm around her. She leaned into his shoulder and Luka just let time happen around them. He had things to say, questions to ask, but they receded for the space of a happiness.

When he spoke, it was into the stolen silence. “Did you want to join the hug?”

He felt her tense, but she didn’t pull away. Instead she turned her face against his shoulder. “I didn’t think I should. I’m really happy for Juleka though. Will you tell her for me?”

Luka countered, ”You can tell her yourself, I think she’d like to hear it. Besides, It’s forever fun to torment a little sister with the fact her big brother has a girlfriend .”

That turned the tension into a series of burbling ‘tee-hees’ from Sabrina, and butterflies echoed from within Luka’s belly. The idea was a delightful mystery to both of them still. Luka wondered if he’d get used to it someday, he hoped not. Sabrina’s pure sincerity was a dawn that came more than once a day for him.

She asked, ”Should I have hugged Juleka?”

“Only if you wanted to, but you’re welcome now. I want you to believe, and act on that. We’re not a traditional family here on the Liberty, but that just means we can add new members however we like.”

A shiver ran through her. Sabrina reached up a hand for him, but withdrew it at the last second, turning it mucky-palm-side up. She gave him a sheepish look, ”Maybe I should wash up?”

“Go on, but just your hands… and face. I’ve got something for the rest.”

Sabrina gave him a curious look but he just returned an enigmatic smile. It got him another puff-cheeked face. This time when she headed for the door he reached out to give her a playful pinch, just missing his target. She realized his intent after the fact and twisted, hands covering her backside as she trotted backwards out the door. “Naughty!”

Luka rummaged in his dresser, he found what he was looking for quickly, but not. He set the shirt aside and kept looking. I know we had to have another one left somewhere…

Yet by the time Sabrina came back in he still hadn’t found it. She announced her presence by crouching down beside him as he searched the space behind his bottom drawer on hands and knees. “Whatcha lose?”

Luka sat back on his heels and picked up the one he had found. “A companion to this, I thought you could wear it.” He let the Kitty Section t-shirt he held fall open from its folds. It was an XL, big even for him, it blocked out Sabrina completely as it hung there. “This one’s a bit-”

The fabric billowed and shifted in his grip. Sabrina had ducked herself under the hem and wriggled her way up. She stood, and Luka let go, a chuckle already forming on his lips. The shirt hung down on her, even with her head and arms still inside it. Luka stepped back. Sabrina’s sweater vest dropped from inside the t-shirt. A few seconds more and her blouse followed. Then her ginger bob poked out, revealing her oh-so-proud smile. She pulled herself the rest of the way out and turned in place happily, ”Oh I love it!”

The T-shirt’s sleeves hung to her elbows, the hem almost to her knees. The wide neck bared one freckled shoulder and a pale blue bra strap. Sabrina took hold of the shirt near the hem and swished it like a set of skirts.

Luka remembered his stolen sweatshirt and recalled her words. “Yours now?”

She steepled her fingertips in front of her face with an impish grin.

“It looks good on you.”

Sabrina shifted the shirt, fixing the collar, only to have it slip off the other shoulder. She pinked but shrugged helplessly.

Luka’s eyes drifted down to the newly bared shoulder. An daydream formed of an evening spent counting those freckles, it could take many happy hours. The daydream made his fingertips tingle like the beginnings of a new tune. Everything that had been easy and casual with Marinette was meaningful and ticklish with Sabrina. It had taken Luka a while to pin down the reason: Both of them were fully present when they were together.

Luka pulled his eyes away from her shoulder, and found he’d been caught. Uniquely, his cheeks warmed in mild embarrassment. It was hard to play it cool when her complete sincerity made his heart race with even the most innocent of gestures. He cleared his throat, ”So, um, think it’ll work for some casual fried food?”

Sabrina scooted the shirt back up, only to have it immediately fall again. She put on a brave smile for him. “I’ll make it work. I can always steal your sweatshirt again too,” she finished, with more ‘grabby paws.’

Luka mocked surprise and crossed his arms over his chest, holding his sweatshirt in place. “Not again! I’ll run out soon.”

Sabrina surged in, tugging and wrestling just as performatively in an effort to get it off of him. “We’ll get you more. I’m gonna make a pile at home to sleep on.”

The image of Sabrina curled up on a pile of his sweatshirts flashed through Luka’s mind. In the warmth that brought, another thought followed, one that stirred up the ticklish unknown once again. He caught hold of her questing hands and suggested, “Trade?”

Sabrina went still, but puzzlement was plain on her face. “Trade?”

Luka opened his hands, moving them to lace his fingers with hers. “I get to keep my sweatshirt, but I’ll give you a kiss instead.”

Those aqua eyes widened behind her glasses. Sabrina's face lit up, and the purity of that joy resonated in Luka's chest. Sabrina still held that sense of innocent wonder at simply being kissed. In turn it made kissing her a thing of newness and wonder as well.

Sabrina wet her lips. "Okay," she whispered, as if keeping the most tender of secrets.

She lifted up onto her tiptoes, leaning in and using their laced hands for balance. Luka leaned down, the ticklish anticipation growing until…

The kiss was gentle, all her kisses were. The kind of gentle that could last for hours in a single moment. Luka felt five years drop away, just a boy having his very first kiss all over again. Sabrina made a soft sound in her throat, contentment given voice. When she slowly rocked down off her tiptoes he followed her, keeping the contact just a second longer to steal that eternity from time itself.

He was floating on a sea of sounds. The water against the boat, the beating of his own heart, ten thousand little noises of Paris all around them, and the soft puff of her breath gasped out in the wake of the kiss.

Luka opened his eyes slowly. The pink cheeked smile that greeted him made him want to sink back into the moment immediately, but others waited above. Luka settled for, "I need to watch trading those away too early in the day. They're a sure fire way to make one wish for night."

At that the pink turned a bright crimson. Sabrina’s mouth made a shocked ‘oh’ and she ducked her head, pawing her hair forward to hide her face. Luka was still parsing just what he’d said to cause the reaction, but knew what came next. He braced as she turned and tackled her shoulder into him, cuddling in to hide against his chest.

The potential implications of his comment finally clicked for him. Luka wrapped Sabrina in a hug and let out a soft embarrassed chuckle, “I didn’t umm- quite mean it, that way.”

Of course now that he’d realized it, his brain was quite willing to run with that particular daydream as well, though to his credit it was far more impressions and feelings than vivid detail.

Luka held her while the overload passed. Slowly Sabrina relaxed against him. He felt her fiddling with the zipper on the sweatshirt that started this all. Her voice drifted up. “I- I wouldn’t say no.”

And there it was again, the notes of complete honesty in her voice. Luka had learned long ago to listen for the background notes, to parse hidden melodies, and draw truth from the storms of noise most people wove around themselves. The pure tones Sabrina communicated in were everything he struggled to find in others. They struck the chords of his emotions before he was even ready at times, drawing resonances he was scarcely prepared for.

Times such as now. The poet was speechless before the intensity of his own feelings. “I-”

She uncurled against him, looking up. Her touch followed her gaze, cupping his cheek. “Me too.”

They settled back into a hug for a minute more before drawing apart. Luka cleared his throat, still feeling the heat in his face. “We’d better go up, before they start thinking things.”

Sabrina swayed as she moved toward the door, catching hold of the hem of the shirt again and spinning to flare it out. She lost her balance and nearly toppled, just catching herself. “Things like, ‘Where did her blouse go?’”

It was Luka’s turn to have his eyes go wide. Sabrina half hid her face behind her hands again, both blushing and grinning at her own insinuation. He gave her a grin in exchange, then held out his hands, fingers flexing at her. “Yeah, like that.”

She caught the glint in his eye and let out an ‘Eeee!” as she turned and bolted. Luka chased her back up the stairs to the deck, tickle-threats inches behind her the whole way. On deck she instantly darted behind the largest protection there was.

Ivan blinked at Luka in confusion. Luka gave him a helpless shrug, “Sorry about that.”

Ivan lifted one arm, turning to peer behind himself even as Sabrina peeked out. He noted, “I’m used to it, though it’s usually Mylène hiding behind me. I’m not sure there’s gonna be room for two.”

Mylène joined the group. “Oh, I don’t mind sharing, Teddy Bear.” She blinked as Sabrina inched back out from behind Ivan. “Oh goodness, is that one of your shirts, hon?”

Ivan’s reply was instant panic, “No?”

Luka saved him further embarrassment, “Technically it was, but never got to him. It’s an extra from the old band shirts. I was going to hand it over because I think Ivan’s the only one who it would have fit, but some people don’t seem to mind that.”

Sabrina stepped further out, smiling at Mylène and Ivan, her temporary bravery slipping back into nervousness again. “It’s comfy,” she defended.

Mylène beamed. “Isn’t it? I steal Teddy Bear’s shirts all the time. You can just curl up in them and it’s like a full body hug.”

Above the pair Ivan was slowly going red faced. He rubbed the back of his head and looked for Luka for help.

Juleka supplied it first, ”We go’n?” she asked, stepping into the expanding circle.

Luka latched onto the new direction, ”Yes, Food! We should go, where are we going this time? It’s… who’s pick?”

Rose hopped into the mix, still wiping the grease paint off her chin with a towel. "New girl picks!"

All eyes swelt back to Sabrina, who instantly wilted.

Mylène was still there beside her though. "You can't pick wrong. That's what being the one to pick means. If they don't like it, you just won't have to pick again for a while… they haven't let me pick for months since the salad smoothie debacle."

A collective groan rose in memory. Even Mylène cringed a bit before defending herself.

"It sounded cool! They donated a percentage to sustainable agriculture!"

Sabrina visibly regrouped as the attention shifted from her. By the time it came back she had uncurled. Luka felt like cheering. Sabrina suggested, "Could we eat at Five Guys? I know it's burgers but I really like their peanuts…"

A chorus of responses.

"Peanuts? Like in shells?!" Rose.

"I l'k brgrs." Juleka.

"I haven't had a burger in forever." Ivan.

"I'm sure I'll find something to eat." Mylène.

Once more, his circle of friends had validated Luka's faith in them. "Alright, let's shove off."

The group had made it up to street level when a crash from back on deck made them stop.

Sabrina piped up beside Luka, "We forgot…"

Another crash and everyone was at the railing. Back on the Liberty, a sight that made jaws drop.

Kagami was chasing Chloé across the deck, bokken in hand. "You can not escape me forever!"

Her quarry mocked over her shoulder, "Can't I?"

Chloé turned, seemingly at bay.

Kagami thrust with her sparring weapon.

Chloé leapt to the side, "Sissone!" A second dodge, "Pirouette!." A third. "Arabesque!" Each a ballet pose that took her just barely out of harm's way.

Kagami paused on the third strike and Chloé leapt clear, "Grande Jete!" She landed on the ship's rail, perched proudly, and laughed into the back of her hand. "Hahaha, you're far to brutish to try and match me for grace!"

Kagami made the jump to the railing too, both girls now standing on an inch of rounded steel. "oh really?"

Chloé panicked and wobbled as Kagami raised her weapon, "no, wait!"

The blonde lost her balance, struggling to remain on her perch. Kagami lowered her guard but smirked. The smirk lasted only until Chloé pitched over, catching Kagami's blazer in her flailing, and taking them both over the side into the water.

A wet shriek and a stream of Japanese were both drowned out by a fierce topmast bellow from Anarka's lungs, "Woman Overboard!"

The brawny captain ran across the deck and threw a preserver over the side.

Luka said, “We should help.”

Juleka. “Y’h”

Rose. “We should…”

Sabrina noted, “Or, we could run.”

The group exchanged a look among themselves.

They were already a dozen blocks away by the time Anarka hauled the first streaming girl up over the side.

#miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #sabrina raincomprix #mylene haprele #ivan bruel #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant #chloe bourgeois #kagami tsurugi #ml fanfiction #ml fic

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