#i feel sick and stupid 90% of the time

[alolan-weavile]

oooooh i am deeply unhappy actually

[pallases]

ourgejjg

[spotlightstudios]

Experiencing a minor inconvenience that makes my guts churn because, sure it's annoying for me, but it represents a larger issue w/ the world I'm gonna have to deal with for a bunch more years.

[allowed-to-take-up-space]

.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ooo you’re doing Pressure!!

May I request an artist reader who, throughout the journey found some paper, pencil and made a little makeshift sketchbook and when later bought Sebastian’s document decided to try and draw him? Like maybe both when human and current (and maybe the monsters)? 

Perhaps he saw them sketching, got curious and decided to look through it when reader left it somewhere or just straight up snatched it and held it out of their reach and sees those sketches of him. Could be hurt/comfort or angst/fluff.

Of course you’re free to change any of the details but please keep it platonic TwT

Aw love this idea! And it works considering all the paper and notebooks in the drawers of the blacksite.

............

"Great, [y/n]. One moment, you're doing some harmless graffiti on a brick wall nobody cares about. And the next, you're risking your life for a stupid crystal in hopes you'll get a federal pardon.."

Sighing, you held onto the overhead handles within the sleek black submarine, feeling it shake and rumble as it breached the water's surface. And after hearing the chime, the door hissed and opened up, the platform extending out onto the dock of a place already familiar to you: Hadal Blacksite.

'No place like home..' As you stepped out of the submarine, you could hear HQ over the PDA system informing you of your objective in reaching the crystal and collecting any "loose assets" you find along the way...

As if you needed any reminders of what you were doing here.

Immediately, you unlocked the first door with the keycard and began your journey to room 100. Along the way, you found a good handful of research data. Nothing too special aside from folders, USB drives, and a couple blue DNA vials.

Then after narrowly dodging the Angler in one area and avoiding Eyefestation's gaze in the next, you reached a room requiring yet another keycard to exit. You checked the nearby office cubicle, finding it in the first drawer you opened.

But that isn't what made your eyes light up. Rather, it's what was right next to the card that did:

A brand new pencil to go with the sketchbook you've been carrying with you.

Because you weren't given the luxury of doodling while sitting in jail for over 90 days, you felt your creativity flames being snuffed out, leaving you itching to draw something again.

Before all of this, you had a decent following on social media with your art skills, and you could imagine that they're worried sick over your sudden absence. But you hoped that, if you survive and succeed in this mission, you'll be able to come back and reassure them that you're very much alive.

And perhaps show them what Urbanshade has been hiding from the public...that is to say the sea monsters that have taken up residence in the Blacksite since its lockdown, freely roaming and haunting nearly every room you step into.

With the makeshift sketchbook you had (and somehow kept even after death), you've filled its pages with simple and detailed sketches of each creature you encountered.

But you doubt that they would let you leave with physical evidence of entities nobody else in the world should know about...unless you somehow convinced the guards that they were "original characters" that so-happened to look like them, but you had a feeling that excuse wouldn't fly.

Regardless, they've given you tons of artistic inspiration, despite your many close-calls with them in pursuit of studying their features from afar.

Thanks to the files Sebastian Solace has shown you, you've learned how to safely observe the Angler from a distance and better remember their details. They were merely a grotesque face surrounded by smoke, so you didn't have to worry about drawing any limbs or tails (assuming they had those).

You encountered their variants so many times that you could recall the little things that made each them unique--like how Pinkie had four pupils, how Blitz was missing pupils in one socket completely, how Froger was..well..a big frog with lots of needle-shaped teeth, and Chainsmoker was a sluggish blobfish through all that smoke.

Making eye contact with Pandemonium was a death sentence..as you've already learned after trying (and failing) to safely observe him through a glass window. So you draw him as you see him in his file.

The Squiddles' "intimidating" faces were scary in the dark when you least expected them, but they served as amazing inspiration. You even had a page full of what faces you'd think they make up to frighten others. It's too bad you couldn't show them, however, as that required you getting in their personal space.

Eyefestation, Good People, and the Wall Dwellers were quite..risky to observe, as they had ways of quickly and painfully sending you back to square one if you weren't careful. Even so, you made some pretty damn good sketches..and you wish you could show them off to them, too, especially to the shark who'd probably appreciate a human's drawing of herself.

Even the DiVine, who were always frozen in poses for some reason, joined your ever-growing list of muses. The oxygen gardens were a nice place for you to rest and appreciate the flora for a few moments--before an Angler came along, of course.

Then there was Sebastian.

While he was fully aware of your artistic passions, in the beginning he seemed a bit annoyed whenever you came into his shop just to sketch.....or if you took an unusually long time to reach him. He just assumes you've stopped to "doodle" and wonders if you really care about getting out of this place alive.

He'd remind you that HQ could get suspicious if you're off their radar for too long, but you've stayed in his shop for 10-20 minutes at a time and not once did your diving gear beep. So you reassured him not to fret.

It was kinda sweet that he worried over you, an expendable, although maybe that's because you actually treat him with decency..and don't take his snarky comments to heart whenever you died.

Aside from the occasional eyeroll whenever you brought out your sketchbook, he did inquire about some of the things you've drawn, and you'd show him, bearing a little pride in your work.

All you'd get in response was a "neato" or "wowie, that's how you see them?" and nothing more.

It wasn't insulting, so...you'll take that.

Obviously he was more concerned about how much research data you were willing to fork over in exchange for supplies, and how far that equipment will carry you before your next demise. So you'd eventually close the book and barter with him for whatever wares were on his tail.

Unbeknownst to him, you've actually started sketching him as of late. Now that you've met him dozens of times, it was easy for you to recall his features without needing to stare at him for reference every five seconds.

That would not only be rude, but very creepy.

Then one day, you showed up to Sebastian's shop with enough data to be able to afford his document, which described him as Z-13, "The Saboteur" who the company wanted "dead on sight" if he was spotted or trying to escape.

When you had time to read the file on your own, you learned some..pretty shocking things about how he caused the lockdown, went through torturous experiments, and was falsely accused of nine murders and was proven innocent far too late.

The most upsetting part was that he was never informed of this.

He learned that after presumably stealing his own document.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing he's the reason you're being terrorized by those beasts, but you couldn't find it in your heart to be angry at him.

If anything you were angry at Urbanshade for their "guilty until proven innocent" system--or in his case, being proven innocent didn't matter.

His human mugshot was also included in the file, and even with the black censor bar covering his eyes, he still looked like quite a handsome fellow. You could make out some details, and ended up drawing him on a separate page, too, although part of you wishes you never started.

You doubt he would kill you or rip apart your book for drawing him, but considering how volatile and rude he could be at a moment's notice..you did your best to conceal the sketches when you visited his shop.

You didn't want him to be offended or reminded of his past..and make him resent the one person who he almost considered a genuine friend.

Unfortunately, you'd soon come to realize that your actions were only heightening his suspicions.

And that it was going to come to a head next time you entered his shop.

...............

"Okay, I'm going to bite...what're you really hiding in that little book?"

"Pardon?" Pausing mid-sketch, you looked up at Sebastian, wondering why he appeared so disgruntled. "I'm..uh...just doodling like I always-"

"No, don't give me that "like always" crap." He huffed, flicking the end of his tail as he crossed his two arms over his chest, staring down at you. "Last time, you couldn't stop showing me a stupid face you'd think one of those S-Qs would make...and now you won't even let me have a sneak peak of your next "masterpiece"." He spat the last word, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you really drawing something...or are you secretly writing intel to give to Urbanshade?"

"...wha.." You blinked in disbelief, wondering where he'd get that assumption from. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Oh I dunno, maaaybe because you have access to my file and know my location? I bet you're gonna sell me out to those scumbags once you reach the crystal." He gnashed his teeth. "Did they say you'd get extra cash for leaving tips on my whereabouts, huh?"

"Sebastian, there's no reason for this hostility. I'm not giving any intel to anyone-"

"Then you wouldn't mind me taking a look at this, would you? Yyyyyyoink!" His third arm was quick to snatch your sketchbook away, holding it out of your reach as you jumped up in panic.

You were already dreading his reaction.

This could very well be the end for you.

"Please give that back! You'll tear it!"

"You look frightened. So maybe I should, considering you're writing secrets about.....about...." But as Sebastian finally looked at the page, all he saw were sketches of his current self, and you began to see a shift in his expression.

It went from pure anger, to surprise and confusion, and then to....something unreadable.

"These are...all of me?" His voice became quieter as he flipped the page, only for his breath to hitch upon finding the drawings of his human form.

And for once, he was completely speechless.

The details were immaculate, everything from his hair style to the scar he used to have across his face--given to him from an angry cellmate who thought he really did kill those people and tried giving him a "taste of his own medicine".

But the way you made him look was...incredible.

That's him.

That's really him.

The man--the human--he was before...

Before...

"Yes." Your face was burning with embarrassment, and your heart was pounding with fear of both death and ridicule, now knowing that your fate laid in his hands now. "I-I'm sorry. I should've asked for your permission and I know the details aren't perfect but you didn't let me........huh?"

Ceasing your ramblings, you noticed the tears welling in his eyes, and you were stunned. Then his shaking hands closed the sketchbook and returned it to you. "Um..are you okay? I'm really sorry if-"

"I...a-almost forgot what I looked like before all of this.." He raised a claw to wipe at his watery eyes, sniffling. "They're...good drawings, friend. I'm sorry..I...I-I didn't mean to..." His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, bringing his hands to his face. "Why am I crying over something like..t-this..?"

He hated looking so weak in front of you, yet he couldn't help the tears that kept slipping down his cheeks. A certain sadness was weighing heavily on his heart, yet at the same time he felt...honored that you wanted to draw him, putting your heart and soul into every sketch--with him getting the most effort.

You didn't overexaggerate him as the hideous beast he and everyone else was convinced he was, but just him as, well, himself. His smiles when he realizes it's you coming through the vent again, his cheeky grins when you buy up all his supplies, and even the one time he pouted when you died to Pandemonium because you risked it all trying to draw the moldy fish-creature.

The human ones, as you could tell from the way he broke down, especially hit home for him. Just from a mugshot alone, you were able to create a near-accurate depiction of him.

It made him wonder if you two have met before any of this happened.

Sebastian sniffled, struggling to stop the tears and expecting you to make fun of him as he finally uncovered his face. But instead he saw you standing there with your arms opened up. "I feel like you could use one of these. It's okay. I know you miss being human."

".........."

"C'mon, big guy. My arms are kinda hurting--oh!"

Without warning, he accepted your embrace and squeezed you tightly in his hold. Of course he was careful not to crush your diving tanks, and you smiled in appreciation and patted his back. "It's okay, it's alright..I got you. I didn't mean to make you cry."

He sniffled a few times, but otherwise said nothing and tried making sure you weren't supporting all of his upper body weight.

Curse his size. He wishes he could experience a normal hug again.

This one will do, though.

"I-It's...it's fine. Don't worry.." He finally spoke after a few moments, calming down. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this."

"I'll take it to my grave." You chuckled, letting go and stepping away so he could straighten his back out. While he did that, you gently tore a few pages from your book, to which he blinked in confusion.

"What are you doing with-?"

"Keep them." You insisted. "In case this sketchbook falls into a pit or gets waterlogged, I want you to hold onto these. Besides, I can tell you appreciate them a lot. So...consider it a gift."

"Why..thank you." A smile appeared on his face as he took the pages carefully. "Rest assured, they'll be safe and sound." He gazed at them both one more time, feeling a tug on his heart.

But it wasn't as heavy as before.

After neatly folding and stowing them away into his pockets, he saw you already sitting in one of the chairs, your sketchbook opened to a brand new blank page.

"Sooooooo what are you going to draw this time?" He tilted his head, ear fins twitching with curiosity.

"Hm...I did see a vision of a white glowing man a few rooms back. I think he was from...the Mindscape? There was a file talking about him and some floating gears and a white ball."

"Ohh yeah, he's an interesting guy. I'd love to see your interpretation of him." Now Sebastian was 100% invested, as he curled his tail around himself, resting his upper body on it so he could see your book better. "But y'know you won't be able to leave this place with sketches of-"

"I'm well aware of that...I could always change a few things and turn them into OCs."

"Hah. You should."

"Maybe I will." You snickered, grateful that you didn't have anything to fear.

At least somebody in the Blacksite appreciated your art.

[averagefairy]

i feel like europeans who judge americans for never leaving the country don’t quite get that 90% of us have 10-15 days of vacation time per year that we have to ration for doctors appointments and sick time and hardly get to use as actual vacation. like how exactly do I squeeze an intercontinental trip out of there babe please spell it out for me i’m too stupid to understand

[carolmunson]

we better make a start (older!modern!eddie)

continuation of orange colored skyorange colored sky setlist

inspired by the fact that i fall in love with someone new every time i go to trader joe's and @loveshotzz new older!steve series. tw: outside of an age gap, not much. super fluffy it borders on gross. eddie is in his late 30s/early 40s, reader is late-late 20s/early 30s. music inspo: everywhere - fleetwood mac

Wednesdays at two… You wished you’d met this guy in the fall when you still felt cute getting off the train. It was like being in a sous vide every time you got on and off, walking back out into the hot sun of the city. Would your hair frizz? Was your makeup melting? You were at least smart enough to wear bike shorts under your skirt to avoid the rubbing of your thighs – hopefully he wouldn’t notice. Your feet hurt in your 90s looking wicker sandals but at a passing glance in a store window you figure you don’t look half bad. You look infinitely better than when he first saw you in your ‘errands ugly’ clothes. Maybe he’d even think you look cute. Y’know – if he’s even there. Why’re you meeting up with some random stranger anyway? A sick flare of nervous embarrassment slides through your chest like a snake – this is stupid. He probably forgot about it. Whatever, you wanted to pick up a couple things anyway – it’s totally fine – this isn’t weird at all – and if he’s not there? It doesn’t matter. Who cares? You’ll be fine. You’ll go home and sift through a never ending collection of left swipes and ‘haha not much, just chillin naked. wbu?’ messages on whatever dating app you feel like opening that day. 

A block and an escalator later, you’re in the depths of the shopping center where Trader’s is. You swallow the sick creeping up in your belly — this is so stupid — but it doesn’t take long for you to spot him at a small table near the coffee stand across from the store. His hair sits in a low bun this time, most of his wavy curls spilling over and framing his face. He looks nice, black tee shirt that he might’ve pressed, smarter looking black chinos with a belt he likely got at a vintage store. The silver buckle looks pretty and polished, shining like the rings on his fingers and the rim of the wire glasses he had perched on his nose. He’s typing away on a laptop, black iced coffee melting next to it that he occasionally reaches to sip.

“Um…You’re Eddie, right?” you stammer out as you walk toward the table. He looks up from his laptop, the glow of this screen reflecting back in his glasses. He stops to look you over, straw still in his mouth. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he grins, a breath of relief puffing out of his nose, “Didn’t actually think you were gonna show up — was sort of a shot in the dark.” He stands up, hand outstretched for yours to shake, “I never caught your name.” 

You take it, his handshake is firm and you can make out some of the tattoos on his fingers and hands. You introduce yourself and he mumbles a ‘nice to meet you’, your name sounds nice coming out of his mouth. “This feels like a business meeting,” you laugh, “Like I’m here for an interview.” He laughs back, “I did just come here from a meeting so I might still be in work mode, sorry.” He takes off his glasses, hanging them off the collar of his shirt. He packs up his bag, a well worn Jansport backpack covered in patches like the vest he had on the last time you saw him. You could tell it was old since there was a patch right at the center that read ‘METALLICA 1997 - Poor Touring Me’. A few other concert patches with ranging dates, 2003, 2009, 1998 littered the black canvas, you smile at it. 

“1997?” you ask, “Metallica concert at what – nine? Your parents were cool with that?” 

He looks down at it and his cheeks go pink, letting a breath puff out of his lips that makes them push out and motorboat, “What year were you born?” “‘92,” you answer, “Why?” 

“Jesus,” he mumbles, rubbing his face with a tight smile, “You’re a young thing, aren’t you?” 

“How old were you in ‘97?” you ask while you both make it through the double doors of the grocery store. He grabs a basket and raises his brows with another big breath. “Seventeen,” he says, “Got this backpack two days before that show actually.” “You still have it?” you ask, trying to do the math in your head of how old he is and how long he’s had it. “Jansport has a lifetime warranty,” Eddie smirks, “I’ve been putting it to good use.” “So why’re you back here,” you ask, following him to the back aisle where the bread is, “You just went food shopping a few days ago.” “I went for my neighbor,” he explains, grabbing two baguettes, “He fractured his foot and hasn’t been able to get up and down the stairs. Been running errands for ‘im in the meantime.” “Oh,” you smile, “That’s nice of you.” “Thanks,” he says, “You like bruschetta?” 

“Why do you ask?” 

“Well,” he starts, “I didn’t really think that Trader Joe’s was an ideal date so I thought I could ask you out here and also get some stuff for it ahead of time.” “Oh,” you repeat, heat creeping up on your cheeks, “What did you have in mind?” 

“Well if you’re free tomorrow afternoon…” he begins, but gets sidetracked. He sneaks behind you to grab some yogurt covered pretzels, “I saw you grab these the other day and got some too, they’re fuckin’ delicious.” 

The spicy suede scent he had last time is replaced with a bright citrusy cedar, it matches his overall disposition. Your mouth waters when you inhale. 

“Anyway, as I was saying,” he starts again, “If you’re free tomorrow afternoon, I’d love to treat you to a little something cute in the park. It’s supposed to be not so swampy.” “Like a picnic?” you ask with a hint of a tease. “Yeah,” he says, a glow of pink perking up on his ears hidden by his hair, “Something like that. If you’re into that – like – if you even want to go on a date with me.” “I showed up here. I feel like that’s answer enough, right?” “Right, right.” The conversation quiets while he tosses a few more things in his basket. “So what was your meeting for?” you ask, watching him look over the cold cuts and cured meats in the open refrigerated section. He was one of those, a ‘stand-and-starer’ instead of just knowing what to get. You try not to grind your teeth. “Oh, new client meeting,” he says, like you know exactly what he’s referencing. 

“For what? If you don’t mind me asking.” He reaches for a package of salami and prosciutto before turning to you, “Do you eat meat?” You nod while he continues to pick up and compare products, “New client for my side gig.” “Which,” he says, tossing his selections in the basket, “If you can believe it, pays a shit ton more than my main gig.” “What’s your big money side gig?” you laugh, following him to the next aisle. “I’m a web developer,” he says, squatting down to look at granola. He hopes you don’t hear the way his knees crack, the way his face winces at the slight tightness in his joints. In Eddie’s defense, he didn’t get a chance to stretch this morning – normally he’s much more limber – he promises. “Like making websites and stuff?” you squat next to him, your own knees cracking. You hope he doesn’t hear it. “Just like that,” he says. He reaches in front of you, grabbing your arm to steady you as you wobble to move out of his way. His grip is gentle but firm, the spots beneath his fingertips buzzing with electricity, “Careful there, sugar.” A smile spreads deep across your face while your eyes make friends with the floor under you, both of you rising back to your feet. His keys jingle on the same carabiner from before, clinking against a silver chain that you’re pretty sure connects to a wallet in his back pocket. He has Nike Killshots on today, the white with a black check instead of the navy. Everyone and their father has the white and navy. “Do you like it?” you ask, holding in a giggle while he grunts getting up. “Writing code and doing graphic design? Sure,” he shrugs, “Got into it really ahead of the game. You were probably still in grade school.” You roll your eyes and he snickers, “But mostly, I make websites for trust fund kids who use daddy’s money to start new businesses. So it’s sort of like my side gig is uh…” “Exploiting the rich?” you grin, he grins too, “Super punk.” He shakes his head while you both walk out into the produce section, “No, no, super metal.”

“What’s your main gig?” “Oh, come on – don’t break my heart,” Eddie’s dramatic flare shines through when he leans up against the flat edge of the pillar holding up the bananas. He holds his free hand to his chest, looking at you with a faux forlorn face that makes his brown eyes shine. Now that you’re really taking stock, you see the thin silver hoop hugging his right nostril – something about it makes your heart thump harder in your chest. “The tattoos don’t give it away, huh?” he asks, passing the basket to the other arm, both biceps flexing against the well tailored t-shirt’s sleeves. 

“A tattoo artist?” you wager a guess with a grimace and half shrug. “No,” he says, the word covered in a soft laugh, “But I’ve been in my artist's shop enough that I might as well get paid to be there.” “I can see that,” you nod, pulling a bunch of bananas from behind him and cradling them in your arm, “So what is it then?” “C’mon, it’s obvious,” he smiles, “I’m a rockstar.” 

“Are you?” you ask, your laugh bubbles out of you and it makes the back of his neck get hot. You’re too pretty to be flirting with him in Trader Joe’s but he can’t stop trying to make you laugh and smile. 

“Well,” he shrugs, kicking off the wall, “Sort of.” “Sort of a rockstar?” your brow lifts while you scan some of the fruits, hand reaching down to a display in front of you, “If you’re doing food food, how about I do dessert?” 

“Peaches, huh?” he asks with a smirk, wrinkling his nose, “A little messy, don’tcha think?” 

“They’re nectarines,” you correct, putting a few in one of the produce bags, “They’re not the same.” 

“Hm,” he shrugs, letting his finger trail over the smooth waxy skin of one of the nectarines in the display, “Whatever you say, Peach.” “Pfft,” you shake your head the same way he did to you, tying off the bag while you try to ignore how the butterflies in your stomach multiply at him calling you Peach. “So if you’re doing dessert that means you’re free tomorrow, then?” he raises his brows, waiting for your answer while you both walk to the checkout line, “You never said if you were.” “Yes I did,” you protest. His tattooed hand reaches out for the nectarines and bunch of bananas you’re holding. You look down at them and then back up at him, Eddie gives you a look, encouraging you to hand them over.

“No, you said you’d go on a date with me – gimme these, I got ‘em–” he beckons you with his hand to take them until you relent, putting them both in his basket, “And trust me, I’m glad you’re down to go on a date with me. But I just wanna make sure you’re around tomorrow so I know to turn on my charm in the morning.” 

“Oh, it’s not on right now?” you flirt. Eddie’s smile gets boyish and shy, tucking a loose salt and pepper collection of strands behind his ear. He’s too blushy to respond, thankful that the Trader Joe’s worker directs you both for the next cashier. He hands you your bananas and nectarines and you plop them into your canvas bag while he finishes up, walking together out of the double doors. 

“Um, could I - uh – damn why am I so nervous to ask you this? What am I, sixteen?” he thinks out loud to himself, furrowing his brow at his own ridiculousness, “Fuck, could I um – get your number?” 

“You already asked me on a date and you’re nervous to get my number?” you tease, “For real?” 

“Long story, I’ll tell you one day,” he says, handing you his phone. He tucks in his lips while you take it, watching eagerly while you put in your information. You save it under ‘Peach 🍑’ with your real name in the second line. 

“Oh what, did it happen all the way back in the 70s or something? Hard to remember?” Your mean girl tone of voice has a hold on him that thrums in his chest. 

“So you’re one of those girls, huh?” he releases his lips, tip of his tongue pressing against one of his canines, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He takes his phone back when you offer it to him, taking a quick second to shoot you a text that just says ‘eddie m.’ Your phone dings in your hand, going to save his number while he watches. 

“M’gonna put it in as ‘Sort of Rockstar’,” you giggle to yourself. “Please don’t.” “Too late.” 

You drop your phone into your canvas bag, giving him a final once over. He does the same and his stare almost makes you nervous with the way his brown eyes soften when they find your face. Not one for awkward silence you reach your hand out like he did when you met outside of the store. “Pleasure doing business with you, Eddie,” you say, a lightness to your voice that has him swooning. His hand takes yours, big and slightly rough, calloused fingertips slightly brushing your wrist. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he says, giving you a firm shake, “Same time tomorrow? At the park?” 

“Sounds good.” 

“I’ll um, I’ll text you. I’ll drop a pin,” he offers. 

You’re both quiet for a moment, anxious with anticipation for tomorrow – for a real date. You say your goodbyes, your ‘see you tomorrows’. Only to both start walking the same direction towards Target. 

“Oh,” you laugh, “Are you going to Target, too?” 

He laughs back, slightly hoarse and rough, smokey sounding, “I am. Should I wait a little? Don’t wanna cramp your style or anything. I know we just said goodbye.” 

“No, no, we can go together,” you smile, big and bright, “We can both decide on what I’m making for dessert.” 

prev | next

[l-in-the-light]

Trafalgar Law and closeness part 5: What is he actually so afraid of and his reasons

This will be a slightly different post from the others, much more speculation, but I will include all hints and foreshadowing I gathered (which means this is a long post yet again). I might be wrong ofc, but I'm like 80-90% sure I read the signs right. Just in case my theory will turn out correct, I reccommend that you think twice before reading any further, especially if you would prefer for Oda's manga to reveal it properly and not get spoilered about the twist thanks to some tumblr post, which is totally understandable. Those who are fearless like a true D and still want to read this theory, a fair warning: this will be sad af. More so than previous posts.

Let's start with a short summary of our previous observations: Law always acts cold, he will draw clear borders and keep people at a distance, because he can't deal with losing people again. That's his major fear. His secondary fear is his fear of touch, the result of his trauma. With both of these we saw him making really decent progress on, thanks to Luffy especially.

I traced Law's progress all the way from Sabaody up to Wano. We saw him completely refusing any bonds in Sabaody, but then he takes the first step towards Luffy. Instead of trying to get closer he proposes for them to be in alliance, hiding behind the impersonal relation (Luffy's not getting any of that btw. And in case you think Luffy did it on accident it's not entirely true: he knows the actual difference between friendship and alliance, he did a normal alliance with Bege in Whole Cake Island no problem, proving to us he's not that stupid). Then we see Law slowly opening up, holding back less of his natural reactions (like getting openly angry), all while fighting his trauma related to touch and helplessness. Let's dive into his psyche.

Law is a doctor, that identity is very important for him not just because of his parents.

When he's a doctor and operates on people, he knows he has to touch them to save their lives. That's probably also the reason why he calls all his attacks and devil fruit abilities per "operations". This way he can create an artificial boundary in his mind, when he's in his "doctor mode" the touch is impersonal and professional so he is able to actually operate on people. And seems this depersonalization/desensitization technique works! The only time we see him comfortable being in contact with people is when he cuts them down into pieces like for an operation. And of course he had to be alright with touch when he operated on Luffy and Jimbei as well.

Here we have to note one more thing about his devil fruit's use. In Sabaody and Punk Hazard he cuts people into pieces and rearranges them, creating "monstrous creatures". This seems to reflect what he thinks of those people, people who usually treat him like a monster because of his devil fruit abilities (that must be a pretty traumatic experience, because doctors also called him monster before just because he was sick). So he pays them back for it, rearranges their bodies, because for him they were the monsters. This way he takes back his own liberty, he shows them that if he's the monster then they are as well. That being said, he does take advantage of his "Surgeon of Death" title, because inciting fear in enemies is helpful when you're a pirate. But after meeting Strawhats who so easily disregard the bad rep Law has and spending enough time with them together, Law stops creating monsters with misaligned human limbs. Last time we saw them was in Punk Hazard. He doesn't need that anymore, because he feels accepted for who he is, regardless of what some random marines talk about him.

His devil fruit is interesting because it creates a space in which he can easily switch items and people's positions without having to touch them. And he can activate most attacks by simply moving his finger a little or making a simple gesture, so that even in case his trauma kicks in and he freezes, then as long as he can move at least one finger, he can shamble himself away to safety. Seems like devil fruit powers rely heavily on the mind of the user, their traumas and wishes deeply influence how the power actually works. I wonder how would it work if Law didn't have his fear of touching.

Summing it up, in Wano Law didn't get touch-triggered even once, so seems things were working out well for him in this regard. He's managing it better, but I doubt that trauma is going anywhere and he will still need time to get more comfortable around people (he might never be truly done with it). But that's okay, that didn't stop him from creating a new friendship. So what's still holding him back? Is it just a regular progress-regress cycle of healing for him?

Is he just not ready yet? After all some decisions take time for him. We see it when he receives his devil fruit. We see it in Dressrosa when it takes him many chapters to admit his own desire to take down Doflamingo by himself. It takes him time to accept things he isn't mentally ready for. We saw that indeed everytime he needs to take an extra moment or two to brace himself to touch someone as well. So is that just it? He needs more time? I don't think so, actually.

Remember this beautiful moment? In my native language this translation of Ace's line is more poetic: I will accept the opened arms reaching towards me as well as the death by the blade.

What was it about accepting opened arms reaching for you? This is Trafalgar Law's first hug on screen. You can't make this shit up. This Ace-Law parallel is there in the story on purpose. And it breaks me every single time.

So I guess Law got over that obstacle as well. He's ready to move on and start new things. And then he creates a beautiful friendship with Kinemon only to retreat to step one at the end of Wano, not even wanting to admit they became friends, even though everyone knows they did (the same with Strawhats). We saw this beautiful progress, his regress for a moment in Dressrosa, him opening up and closing back again. But he improved a lot since Sabaody, he's not the same person anymore. Law in Zou won't retreat anymore before even making a first step.

I think what's holding him back now is his biggest fear. And he has a pretty good freaking reason for it.

Hint number 1: Ope-ope no mi might not be enough.

Hint number 2: lead bullets greatly affected his body.

Hint number 3: "You met Corazon and he managed to prolong your life just a little longer".

Hint number 4: "I don't have much longer to live!", why is Doflamingo reminded of that line in particular now if it's just a thing from the past?

Hint number 5: death is constantly on Law's mind.

I think we need to connect all those dots together. Yes, I know, this theory isn't new. But it makes more and more sense. Ope-ope no mi didn't heal Law from amber lead completely. He only managed to prolong his own life thanks to it. That's why his execution should be done with lead bullets, it's not because it's symbolic, it's because that's literally what will kill Law in the end. Doffy was going to make the process just a tad bit faster is all. Law isn't afraid of death, but he is afraid to die without achieving anything or "dying for nothing", like he says in his flashback. He managed to survive till age 26, but his time is running out again.

Law's supposed "awakening" means he can use rooms remotely, without the need to be inside them. Interesting thing about those attacks is that they all use anaesthesia. But shouldn't you want your enemies to feel the pain when you attack? Let's look more closely to what Law says here. "This influences your body in other ways". Interesting. Perhaps because that's the ability he uses on himself when treating his amber lead syndrome? That would explain the need for anaesthesia, otherwise the sickness would limit his mobility.

In other words: Law can remove/hide the symptoms, but he can't cure the source of the amber lead poisoning apparently. It shouldn't be so strange, he was clearly born with it, it was passed down from his parents, which means it's in his DNA. Using ope-ope no mi inside his own body is pretty clever and let me quote Doffy on that: "it's all about how you use your abilities". Doflamingo did the same with his strings to restore his organs, I think he got inspired by Law. And yes, all the hints come mostly from Doflamingo, so he knows Law is dying.

Let's look at events of Dressrosa again to see if my idea fits. In Dressrosa we learn for the first time that Law's ope-ope no mi requires a lot of stamina. Perhaps because he needs to constantly apply it to monitor his own body and that's why he can't spare as much for fighting enemies as he would want to. Then he gets shot with lead bullets and nearly loses his life as the result. Weird that few bullets could do it to him while he could take much more beating in general. Unless it's because his body is still weak to the lead and it makes the poisoning spread faster, which would make perfect sense. Then Law is put in seastone cuffs and carried by Luffy through half of Dressrosa all the way to the palace. There is no moment in which Law, no matter how tired he is by being manhandled, claims he could just run on his own. He doesn't even sit on the horse or the bull, is just lying down. There is no proper explanation as to why he was lying there lifeless like that, nothing was preventing him from just sitting down instead. Later he claims it was because he was saving up his energy.

But now let's look at this situation logically. He was lying down and compliant to insane degree, because he felt *sick*. Which should remind us of how he was sick before Corazon got him ope-ope no mi. At times he couldn't even move anymore. Putting Law in seastone cuffs means his ope ope no mi is not monitoring his body anymore so it saps out all of his strength. Remember this, this is how bad Law's health is already in Dressrosa.

Even with Doflamingo directly threatening them he can't lift himself up properly. This is emergency, this is not the time to be lying around, and yet he can't do anything and this might a sign of how bad his condition actually is. He's shivering here because he feels helpless and defenseless. His trauma isn't exactly helping either.

At the end of Dressrosa he is weezing, suffocating, but still uses room and shambles to bring Luffy to safety. We can see him there in the background afterwards, looks to me like his heart almost giving up on him. Few moments later he's lying down, most likely passed out. This all is very hard to notice. That room he used to bring Luffy to the ground was also huge, perhaps as huge as the one he used in the palace before to fool Doffy. And he says it cut down on his lifespan. Well, good to know he cut down his lifespan not once, but twice already, and just in Dressrosa alone. Oda didn't nerf Law in Dressrosa, that's not the reason of why he seems weaker than before.

If Law is dying and overdid himself in Dressrosa on top of that, then no wonder he would say this. He might have left his crew in Zou knowing very well that it might be the last time he sees them. Now it makes much more sense. But Dressrosa did tip the scales into making him believe he might literally not make it out and no strategy could help him to survive against the illness.

Now let's jump to Wano. Remember this puzzling moment? He didn't fight anyone, only did some warps, and yet he is already worrying about his stamina? Yes, I take it as a sign that his condition worsened siginificantly. It was ofc also used for the plot to move forward in direction Oda wanted it to as well, but he wouldn't do it *just* for that reason.

Now let's jump to fight against Big Mom. Law doesn't look alright here.

And he can't even get up after the fight for a while, he's panting all the time. Kid, who was also exhausted after the fight, is already back on his legs and moving around. Law meanwhile still can't. Not even when water is rushing their way and he needs to move.

That's some enourmous room he created there. It looks like 10 times size (if not more) of Onigashima. It looks bigger than the whole Flower Capital! So, how much lifespan did he cut down this time?

Now we're finally getting to Winner Island. Blackbeard used his yomi yomi no mi attack that renders the devil user who's hit with it unable to use his powers. We saw that happen with Ace, remember? (yes, this is yet another parallel to Ace. Both of them lost to Blackbeard). And this is how Law looks now without his devil fruit to support him. You have two shots from Winner, one from Dressrosa after he gets shot with lead bullets (lower left) for comparison, anime, and, finally, comparison to sick Law from the flashback. The only difference here are the missing white patches on his skin. Symptomps look exactly the same: heavy breathing, unable to move, shivering, and his forehead is shaded in same way which implies high fever. This is where we are right now: Law's now in as bad of a state (or very close to it) as the end of the flashback. I guess white patches take some time to appear, it's not instant after his devil fruit is unable to be used to repress it anymore.

We didn't yet reach this state, but it's approaching very, very fast.

Very subtle anime hints. The whole sequence with the poneglyph in Onigashima gave us a flashback to Corazon and shows him dying while covered by white snow. Whole flashback has slightly white hinge to it and Law enters the scene from the completely white background.

Just reverse the colors from that oddly coloured bit from fight against Big Mom. Oooff.

Absolutely despicable foreshadowing from One Piece Red. Hearts appear in the credits together with the ONLY line in the song that talks about death. I saw anime doing obscure hints like that countless times before, be it in openings or endings. Apparently some anime producers are aware of what's coming. The first time I noticed this scene with Law hiding his eyes and the lyrics I grew very anxious. I spent most of my life watching animes, I know what game they're playing here. Back then, I just didn't yet know what it foreshadows exactly.

Law accepted his fate and just like the lyrics suggest: "even if I disappear, my song will still ring out". Meaning even after he's gone, people dear to him will carry on and that soothes him. He smiles here, he likes this freaking song exactly because of this line. Those are his real thoughts, that's how he feels inside when he isn't pretending not to care.

This is also why he says things like this. He truly thinks it doesn't matter what happens to him, not just because he's suicidal or he wants to sound cool. No, he says it because he's going to die anyway, so indeed, it does not matter to him.

It's reversed from what we thought this was all about. It's not that he wants to kill Doflamingo so much he doesn't care for his life or chooses to die. It's gonna happen anyway. In fact, if he could, he would prefer not to die:

He wants to live.

There are many asian series dealing with terminal illnesses and protagonists coming to terms with it or embracing some difficult to make choices, like in Searching for Full Moon or Your Lie in April. But please let me tell you a short summary of Shiroi Kage/White Shadow, it's a Japanese live action series from 2001 (god, they don't make such good jdramas anymore, spoilers ahead) about a surgeon who is dying, but decides to keep doing his job till the day he actually dies. He shows a lot of compassion to his patients, because he can easily relate to their situations, especially those about to die soon. His compassionate heart saves a lot of people and helps them accept their own approaching death, even though the doctor is still struggling against it himself. He acts rough and cold towards anyone else than patients, people try to form meaningful connections with him, but he refuses any attempts. Finally he accepts someone in his life that he thinks will carry on happily even without him, because they embrace everything the life offers, no matter if it's love, death or rejection. That person becomes their most important person and shows them that it's okay to fear death. In the end the surgeon chooses how to die himself, without waiting for the illness to take him. White Shadow as a title is symbolic because white in Japanese culture is the color assocciated with death. Does that remind us of a certain disease that shows as white patches on the skin?

The actual reason why Law keeps everyone at distance is probably the same that the main protagonist in Shiroi Kage had. It's for the sake of others, not his own. He doesn't want them to get attached, to feel devastated when he dies, and if they never grow close then they might feel a bit sad but easily move on. This is how he wants to die: so people won't miss him and won't despair the same way he despaired when his parents, sister and Cora-san died. That's his kind heart right there. Kinda the same way Your Lie in April uses the concept. Luffy is still grieving Ace, he doesn't need another heartbreak of someone important like a friend dying, so Law would rather lie that this was never friendship just so Luffy can carry on.

Law doesn't have much time left. And he wants to take down as many bad guys as possible, he might have even set some plans in motion that will succeed even after he dies, Drake and/or other people will carry them out to the end even after Law will be gone.

Remember the cold goodbye in Wano? He stayed at the port after battle, he avoided Luffy and Strawhats (besides Franky) and even tried to make them leave on different day than him. He acted extra cold thinking it will prevent attachments, especially if he thinks he's seeing them for the very last time, with his health in such a bad shape.

This scene should remind you of Punk Hazard, it's a callback to it. Law already then decided that this will be how he will say his goodbye.

Q.E.D., the reason behind his uneccessary coldness is solved, every loose ties got explained, there are no inconscistencies left. That's why I think I read all the signs right, even though it's just a theory based on hints and speculation. But it all fits.

Law thinks Luffy isn't attached to him much yet and that he will move on happily without lingering too much on his death. Oh boy, he's so wrong about that. That's because he didn't see Luffy's reaction in Dressrosa after he passed out.

Luffy cares for him deeply. We saw how unusually happy he was when they reunited on Punk Hazard by chance. How much he bragged about Law being a good guy. How insightful and considerate he tried to be towards him! Sure, he pushed Law's boundaries a bit, because he thought otherwise Law would never be ready to start new friendships (and was he wrong? probably not). Luffy said goodbye to him in Wano with a smile, probably thinking Law just really wants to go for his own adventure, or maybe he needs some time to get ready to admit stuff. And Luffy accepts it and waits for him.

Once Law will realize his mistake he will regret ever starting that alliance in the first place. Because he fucked up, he will leave someone behind very devastated if he dies.

If this post made any of you sad, then I'm sorry. Please remember it's mostly just a theory. Tomorrow I will make a post that will instead make you shed happy tears instead, hopefully.

We all know Luffy or Chopper will somehow cause the miracle and Law will get cured, right? Even if Law's flower is the Queen of The Night that dies before dawn (that's another foreshadowing at work here btw). We need to believe and prepare a whole truck of tissues. Fate always found a way to spare him, we need to believe in it again.

[woso-fan13]

Sicktember 2023: 11

Beginner’s Guide To Faking Sick

In an effort to assess the team’s fitness and any improvement in performance, someone thought it would be a good idea to have fitness testing twice- once on the first day and once on the last. You would really like to talk to the person who made this decision, because they need to know that they just made twenty-some new enemies. 

Everyone had been complaining about it since it was announced, and you had been very vocal about how much you were not looking forward to the beep test specifically. 

Andi had the pleasure of being your roommate, which meant she also had the pleasure of being the person who had to drag you out of bed in the mornings. She’s lucky you’re relatively easy to get out of bed, she could have been stuck with a lot worse. 

—-

“Y/N, come on. You need to get up, the bus leaves in 20 minutes,” Andi’s voice woke you. 

You groan, “Ands, my head really hurts. Can I please go back to sleep?”

You hear footsteps before you feel a hand pressing against your forehead. 

“You don’t have a fever, you’re fine.”

“Andi, please. It really hurts,” your voice is quiet. 

“Y/N, I’m not stupid, I know you’re trying to get out of fitness testing. Next time, commit fully to faking sick if you want to skip. It’s a little embarrassing, I was better at faking sick when I was in elementary school.”

“‘m not lying, I promise. My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

“I’m leaving,” Andi sighs, “be downstairs and ready to go in 15 minutes. Take some Tylenol if your head hurts that bad, and get up. If you really want to stay in your bed, you’ll have plenty of time when you’re dropped from the team for skipping.”

With that, you hear the door open and shut as Andi leaves. The girl really was all about tough love, which was usually good. She could always push you to reach a new best, never accepting any excuses.  

Just this once, you wished she would. But you knew she was right, Coach had dropped people for less than missing fitness testing. So you pulled yourself out of bed, got yourself together, and headed to the lobby. 

Your steps were slow and somewhat wobbly. Which made sense, because your head was spinning and felt like it was being split in half. But you made it to the elevator and stumbled into the lobby, joining the group of players. 

Andi, noticing your presence, walks over and slings her arm around your shoulder. Leaning down, she whispers to you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t need to be so harsh this morning. I was just frustrated and I really couldn’t put up with your antics. We’re fine, right?”

You force a smile onto your face, “of course, Ands. Sorry for being so stubborn.”

If Andi hadn’t believed you earlier, you knew she wouldn’t believe you now. So you decided that you would mind-over-matter your way through the situation. If you pretended you felt normal, you eventually would feel normal, right?

—-

You didn’t even make it through the warm up. You managed through stretches, but you only made it about halfway around the field when your body decided to prove to Andi that you weren’t a liar. 

With a thud, you dropped to the ground. Everyone froze for a moment looking towards you, as if waiting for you to stand up. Instead, you began seizing. 

Everyone took off running, the vets crouching around you and shooing the younger players away. Andi, who had crouched by your head, watched in horror as you began throwing up, your seizure still not breaking. 

As the medics arrived, they quickly pushed everyone back. Andi begged to stay, and she was finally allowed to if she promised not to get in the way. She was directed to your feet, and she grabbed your ankle tightly. 

She watched as they shine a flashlight in your eyes, speaking rapidly. She catches words such as “dilated” and “uneven” and she knows enough to know that those aren’t good. 

But she doesn’t know what could have happened. A headache wouldn’t cause this, and you were fine yesterday. You had played the full 90 and scored two goals against the Canadian team. You had been totally fin- oh. 

Andi’s thoughts screech to a halt. In the 91st minute, you had gone in for a header and had been instead met with the goalie’s fist. You had landed on your feet though, and you seemed okay. There had only been a few minutes of injury time left, and the ref had waved off the medics and resumed play. 

By the time that the final whistle blew, it seemed that everyone had forgotten about your injury. The medics didn’t come or pull you aside in the locker room, Coach had been too busy doing whatever he does to check in on you. And your teammates had been distracted with celebrating the win to remember that you had taken a serious knock. The only person who seemed to remember was the goalie, who had asked mainly out of guilt if you were fine. 

(of course, the fans remembered. when you were finally cleared to use screens, you would see edits of you being hit and then swaying on the pitch as everyone forgot about you. not how you wanted to go viral.)

No one had noticed that you had skipped out on the celebrations to go to bed once you had returned to the hotel. The only person who had any clue that something was wrong had told you off for lying. No one even knew until you hit the ground. 

[hellonearthtoday]

Made up version of Curly Shepard I've created in my head

(its just a bunch of headcanons)

- He has traces of New York in his accent. I can NOT explain and I won't because I don't know man, they're from New York to me and idk why they came to mf Oklahoma but they did

- Curly isn't very brave. Most of the things he does that come off as "brave" are just acts of stupidity that he plays off as him being really brave and cool (He didn't think about the consequences of his actions beforehand and now he's malding about them)

- Wouldn't recognize his own emotions if he was forced to write a 10 page paper on them and also because he'd bribe Ponyboy to write the essay for him. And then he'd skim the essay and go "this is wrong 🤨"

- Growing undiagnosed BPD just trust me bro and maybbeee autism too

- Worst case of resting bitch face in the entire world. While Ponyboy just kinda looks 😐 all the time, Curly just has this untreatable tension line in his eyebrows and he looks angry all the time. But his eyes are 90% always wide open he just cannooot fix his damn eyebrows. It plagues him in his sleep too and he has to manually relax his face and he's always like Damn almost forgot 😌

- He really loves the feeling of getting money. He loves money so much. Someone tell this guy what a job is

- He's not really too interested in learning, or at least he THINKS he's not, but that's because nothing they ever teach at school is interesting to him so he's come to the conclusion that learning is stupid and he'll stick to doing sick wheelies in his car

- On this note. If Curly was introduced to forensic science he would absolutely eat that shit up. He would love everything to do with more morbid topics, because it's just intrinsically not boring. Like stages of decomposition? Fire. he has dreams of stumbling across a dead body and being able to identify the stage of decomposition it's in.

- He would definitely like the grosser side of forensic science, like the biological aspects. Morbid teenage boy with hidden potential locked away because they don't typically teach forensic science in the basic curriculim 😓

- His voice is pretty smooth but to counteract it he talks really harshly, and also just isn't a wordsmith. He's really straightforward and he's not really good at clever jokes or teasing and he kind of talks like he's a background villain grunt in a pokemon game

[tobyislame]

some ticci toby headcanons

consider this a headcanon salad cus these were all randomly thrown together as they came to me

- fragile masculinity up to the NINES with this one

- totally an ice eater what a sicko

- he's double jointed in so many places. also freakishly flexible. likes to freak people out by popping his joints in and out of place lmao

- has the crackiest bones ever. you think you hear sticks breaking in the woods its just toby's crack ass ankles

- weed partaker but stays the freak away from the bottle cus yk he doesn't want to find out if that "like father like son" stuff is true

- plays guitar and makes up shitty 1 minute sad guy with a guitar songs. fingerstyle typa guy

- plays ONLY FOR HIMSELF and gets embarrassed but tries to act like he's not if someone walks in on him. like he'll just hastily stop n scramble to put away his guitar n act all cool like he totally wasn't playing guitar just now and go "whaddyouwant"

- definitely sneaks into concerts and shows. it's easy for him to blend in there. gets suuuper fucking beat up in the pit cus yk he doesn't realize how battered up he's getting in the moment until he gets a glimpse of himself and is like oh hell my lip's busted and my nose is in a different place than it was before

- think he'd have an owen wilson nose on account of how much he's broken it

- also one of his canines is missing

- just a SUUUPER accident prone guy. has no sense of self preservation. like ZERO (cus he was never really taught how to manage his cipa) (well he was yk before The Incident but he doesn't remember much of it)

- has sun spots cus he's outside all day all the time. also tonsss of freckles and moles

- burns his playlists onto cds

- he'd like every music genre but in particular i think he'd listen to late 90s/early 2000s teenage boy music. also 80s music. specifically new wave stuff

- knows a lil bit of asl for his verbal shutdowns

- also i hc him as audhd

- along with his stutter (which i don't consider to be related to his tourettes) he also just has a speech impediment. like sometimes his r's or l's come out as w's and he has trouble pronouncing certain sounds or words and just says them wrong and people correct him consistently he just doesn't really listen or care to correct himself

- not too good at spelling or any of that grammar stuff

- i really want to stress that he's NOT stupid. he hate hate hates how people patronize him and make him out to be some sort of incapable dunce. it makes him feel small and he hates feeling small. he's smart, he's just not good at communicating it. no matter what he tries his words just come out wrong. "i'm lots smarter in my head" is what he'd probably say

- always has a fidget spinner/cube on him

- he kinda just vomits when he gets overwhelmed. like when he has to ride in a car he leans his head out the window like a dog the whole way, partly just cus he likes it and it's fun to play airplane with his hand in the wind but also cus he could spew his guts at any moment

- collects spider-man comics and cool rocks. also unironically looks up to spider-man cus he always gets back up despite all the shit he gets put through. he feels like he could learn from that. he thinks it makes him seem like a kid though which is something he really wants to prove that he's not so he keeps it to himself

- super gross oh my god he's so gross. like doesn't wash his body in the shower cus "the water will get it" picks his nose and eats it kind of gross. will also get all obnoxious and in your face about it if you rightfully tell him he's a sick fuck for that

- honestly that'd be his response every time someone criticizes him

- like you could be like "you fuckin reek" n he'd be like "oh yea?" and grapple you into a headlock with his armpit shoved in your face

- his speech pattern is a little funky. like his sentences just come out like they were sorta haphazardly put together. he doesn't make much sense a lot of the time

- i wanna say he's endearingly dorky but he's just fucking weird. like he probably flirts in a napoleon dynamite-esque fashion. he has a vague idea of what flirting is he just doesn't quite got it but hey he's got the spirit

- he really just has a vague idea of what conversation is in general. he just doesn't have that good of a grasp on how people talk to each other. he feels a major glaring disconnect between himself and every other human in the world and it just makes him feel even smaller

- a lost fucking puppy when it comes to talking to women. just completely and utterly helpless. he stutters a lot more he trips over his words a lot more which just makes him red it's brutal to watch

- my voiceclaim for him is whoever voices bumblebee before he loses his voice box in the michael bay transformers movies (just looked it up it's stiles fucking stilinski)

- his voice cracks all the time ESPECIALLY when he raises his voice. he gets red and embarrassed every time it does and he really badly tries to hide it which just makes it even funnier to everyone else poor guy

- wants so badly to be perceived as a big intimidating muscle man but he just isn't no matter how hard he tries

[justastraymoa]

ADVENTURES WITH CHEESE EXTENDED EDITION PT 10

Im lost. Hopelessly lost with a cat in a bag on my shoulder looking at me like I am the dumbest person on the planet. And honestly, I feel like I am right now.

How do I go out for a simple walk around the neighborhood with my cat and get lost for hours. And my phone is dying on top of it all!

There is no way I could call the boys. I would never live it down. And I mean never. Plus how were they supposed to help me if I didn’t even know where I was? I couldn’t even find a street sign to give me a hint of where I was.

And im tired, hungry, have no more water, and didn’t bring any money because it was supposed to be a short walk. Only I could get myself into situations like this.

If I use my phone to get a map up, I will kill the battery and I didn’t think to pull a map up earlier when I had more battery, because why would I do that? Why would I be smart enough to do that?

Honestly when I get back to the apartment, I am just never going to leave it again. It wasn’t worth it and I am apparently too dumb to go out on my own anyways. Maybe I could flag down a police officer or something if I see one. They may be able to at least put me in the right direction if they wouldn’t give me a courtesy ride because of Cheese.

When I finally saw the boys, it was almost completely dark. The streetlights were already on and no one was walking around anymore. I was so relieved I felt my stupid eyes start to stupidly tear up. Stupid.

Binnie walked up to me and wrapped his arms around my head so I could hide my face in his chest while the emotions passed. I held onto him tightly. Someone tugged Cheese away from me at some point, most likely Lino. And there were several rubs and pats as we stood there.

“Lets get your dumb ass home.” Lino sighed. I just nodded, thankful yet again for all 4 of them. And for the terrible circumstances that lead me to meeting and befriending them in the first place.

Once at home I was deposited directly into a chair and a large glass of ice water was placed in front of me. I drank a few gulps before forcing myself to slow down so I didn’t get sick. That would be the perfect end to this perfect night. Praying over the porcelain bowl because I drank too much water too fast.

I was lucky enough to work from home most of the time. The occasional meeting forced me to go in and work trips, but 90% of the time I spent working from my bedroom or the living room couch or the dining table. Kind of wherever I felt like sitting and a lot of the times I sat at all places throughout the day, just for a change of scenery.

The boys worked from home occasionally, when they could. I always knew when one of them was home because Cheese would abandon me for someone else. Always excited to have someone new to cuddle and bug all day. Also, he knew the boys would give him treats. I was the strict parent in this relationship. But he was still a mama’s boy at heart, so I was okay with it.

Today it was Bin who was working from home. From the dining table by the sounds of it. I could hear him talking to both himself and Cheese. And could also hear the occasional thump of something falling as Cheese was a turd because Bin wasn’t paying enough attention to him. Spoiled child that he is.

I stayed at my desk, both relieved to not be bothered and distracted by Cheese and lonely because Cheese was not here cuddling and distracting me. It was an odd combination. I would probably join Bin at the dining table later just to not feel so lonely. However, for now I had 30 emails on a crisis that popped up overnight that needed attending to.

I laughed out loud as I heard Bin go into Linos room and start to look around for the sling bag. He must be desperate enough to risk Linos wrath.

“I can lend you my makeshift sling. It works just fine!” I called.

“He cant just gatekeep all the good stuff and expect to get away with it! It’s the principle of the thing!” He called back. There was a crash as something was knocked over.

“He is going to kill you for going through his stuff!”

“He wouldn’t.”

I raised my eyebrows and waited for that to sink into Bins head.

“You will save me right. He is a softie for you.” I eventually heard him say.

I scoffed doubtful that Lino was a ‘softie’ for anyone. Except maybe his cats. He was soft for them. Humans though, me included, he was not soft for. “I will try.” I promised nothing more.

Later that night, hours after everyone had gone to bed for the night, there was a high pitched scream that tore me from my peace.

On instinct I ran from the room. Bins door was open and I could see Lino standing over his bed with a very creepy, very psychotic smile on his face in the dark room. The only light source from the hallway nightlight.

(A/N: I picture something like this look)

“I see you went into my room.” Lino stated lowly, face not losing an inch of psychotic.

My body sagged as I realized what had happened. Lino was getting his revenge. In a very Lino way.

“Im sorry.” Bin said lowly.

Beside me Chan laughed quietly. “He spent all evening trying to figure out how to get back at him for tearing the room apart.”

Hyune didn’t even look like he woke up, let alone looked to see why Bin had screamed like a little girl in the middle of the night.

I rolled my eyes and went back to bed, pulling Cheese closer to rub my face on his soft fur and hear his purring as I drifted off.

A/N: And here we are with part 10. Honestly every time I do another one of these I have so much fun but I also wonder how the heck this even happened. How the heck did I turn a bunch of random pinterest cats into Cheese and create a whole ass cat. And all because I love black cats and have had several of my own that vie for the braincell of orange cats on occasion.

Anyways enjoy! See you next time

Skz + pets masterlist

Taglist: @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor

[theawkwardsiren]

Jealousy - Veneer x F!Reader (fluff)

summary - you get jealous of all the attention he gets from fangirls after one asks him to sign an AI generated picture of her and him. however, when he decides to take you to an event with him and show you off, the tables turn

warnings - jealous Veneer

Velvet and Veneer were huge stars, there was no doubt about that. So it was no surprise when the Rageons started obsessing over them, boys and girls alike. You couldn't blame them, Velvet was gorgeous and Veneer even more so.

But you hated it.

Maybe if he didn't thrive on the attention from them you would be okay with it. But it was hard to watch at every event where he would go and sign autographs and blow kisses and seemed to enjoy it. He lived for the attention he received from his fans, which wouldn't be so bad if 90% of them weren't female.

But every time you wanted to bring it up, he distracted you with a sweet kiss or flirty comment and you would be so flustered you'd forget what you were upset about.

Today was an especially bad day.

It was another show, another reason for girls to fawn over your boyfriend and him to bask in it. You felt a little more down than usual, but Veneer's cheery attitude was hard not to catch and you ended up walking down the carpet with him, a smile on your face.

That quickly changed when a girl screamed for him to sign her poster. Ordinarily, that wouldn't be problematic but when you saw the poster your stomach churned unpleasantly, a frown replacing your smile. It was an AI-generated picture of her clinging to him like he was her boyfriend, and it made you queasy so after a few seconds you looked away. Veneer didn't notice the issue, but Velvet did and because she actually liked you - not just because you always made her so pretty - she gave her idiot brother a subtle kick and gestured in your direction. Veneer was quick to change attitude when he saw that you were upset, and tossed the poster aside to rush to you.

"Hey, baby, what's wrong?" His green-tinted lips tugged down into a frown. "Are you feeling sick again?"

"A little," you admitted, trying to give him a smile but came out weak and unconvincing. "Go on, I'll just be backstage if you need me."

"No, no, no, I'm going to take you there myself," he insisted, "The show can wait a little bit." He didn't take no for an answer, grabbing your elbow gently and leading you away from the crowd. Once you were backstage, he sighed and turned to you, "I know you're not sick, you would have said so earlier. What's wrong?"

You sighed and sat down, looking at your lap, "I...I know this is silly and I shouldn't be upset because it's just your fan, but...that poster...I..." You were struggling to get it out, thinking you were being stupid. "I just got a little jealous."

Veneer found that absolutely adorable, and took your hand to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "You know I don't want anyone but you right, darling? I promise."

"I know," you managed a small smile, "It's just that sometimes your fans can be a little too much."

The green-haired boy finally noticed how much this was really bothering you, and quickly made you stand so he could pull you into his arms, wrapping them securely around you. He always made you feel loved, safe and wanted, especially when he held you like this and he knew it. He couldn't have his girlfriend thinking she wasn't enough.

"I love you."

Your head shot up so you could look at him, eyes widened, "Veneer-"

"I know we've never said it before, but it's how I feel," he squeezed your hands. "And it means the world to me that you're always by my side, supporting me despite the way you've been feeling about my fans. And I promise I'll stop giving them so much attention, I'm sorry I've been neglecting how you feel."

At this your smile widened, "It's okay, it really is. After hearing all that, how can I still be upset?" You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, softly and gently kissing him. When you pulled back, you caressed his cheek with your thumb, "I love you too."

This got him excited, his energy rising and he lifted you up to kiss you again, making you laugh as you tried to stop him.

"Babe, go sing!"

-

From that moment onwards, Veneer always took you to events with his hand on you somewhere that showed you were his. He held you anywhere, any way he could and also made sure to kiss you a few times for the cameras, even if they were just short pecks on the lips. He wanted everyone to know he was taken.

One event, however, was going to make things a little different and show you a side of Veneer that you hadn't seen before.

After the usual signing of autographs, waving and smiling, and kissing you until Velvet pulled you apart, the three of you entered the building hosting the event the twins had been invited for. Velvet immediately went off to find important people to talk to, leaving you and her brother alone which neither of you minded. With his arm around your waist, you were comfortable and happy to just walk around with him.

That is, of course, when someone pulled him away for a conversation that looked more like an interview, which left you to wander around on your own. A little bit uncomfortable, you tried to look like you belonged even if you didn't feel like you did.

"Hello, I don't believe we've met before," a voice spoke from behind you, causing you to turn and see a young man - one of the twins' musical rivals.

"Oh, hi," you forced a smile, "I just don't like to talk to people at these events." Not a total lie, because you only liked to talk if you were with Veneer. "I'm just here for my boyfriend and his sister."

"Ah, Velvet and Veneer, right? It's crazy how they just took over the whole industry."

"Well, they are very talented," you defended, "So it's not that surprising."

"Of course, I'm not denying that," he chuckled, moving closer, "But as talented as they are, it doesn't seem like they appreciate you much. Especially your so-called boyfriend."

Now that made you even more uncomfortable, because you could see where this was going now, "They do. They don't have to show it in public."

He seemed to ignore that because he went on, moving closer, "It's only recently I see that Veneer has been more affectionate publicly. No disrespect to him, but a girl as beautiful as you could do a lot better."

"That was disrespectful," you pointed out. "He's a wonderful boyfriend, not that it's any of your business."

"Maybe so, but I could be a better boyfriend," his suggestion made you sick to your stomach, and you backed away.

"I think I'm-"

"And I'm back, pretty," Veneer's familiar voice filled your ears, his arms snaking around your waist from behind as he pressed a dangerously seductive kiss to your shoulder. "Sorry I took so long, you know how these people are."

"It's okay," you smiled and relaxed at his touch, "I was just talking to-"

"Ah, yes," Veneer cut you off, his voice turning dark and snippy, "The new-on-the-block artist who can't sing to save his life and always looks like a walking fashion disaster." His grip on you tightened almost possessively.

You were shocked. You knew Veneer could be mean if he wanted to, but the tone of his voice was almost...dangerous. Threatening. He was trying to be intimidating, and while this was a new side of him, you'd be damned if you didn't find it absolutely hot.

"Look, man-" The guy started, raising his hands defensively.

"No, you look," Veneer sneered, "This is my girlfriend, and if you so much as look in her direction again, I will have you canceled within hours." Again, very domineering and very hot. "Now, scramble back to whatever hole you crawled out of, you're boring me." The bored tone his voice took on proved his words.

The guy was quick to take his leave, practically running away from you.

"I see what you mean," your boyfriend mumbled into your neck, "I didn't like seeing someone else give you romantic attention."

You smiled and turned your head so you could peck his lips, "You handled it very well, actually. Really hot. I'm glad you know I'm only yours."

He grinned and whirled you around so he could kiss you, right in front of everyone else. Veneer had never been shy with PDA, but this was to prove to everyone who could see that you were his and his alone.

"I love doing that," he remarked excitedly when you pulled apart, then smirked when he noticed yours and his lipsticks had smudged and mixed colours on both your lips. "Perfect."

Your face grew hot, but you managed to tell him three important words, "I love you."

He beamed, "I love you too. Now, let's go enjoy this...whatever it is."

"Did you seriously forget what event you were invited to?"

"No...maybe..." He laughed nervously, "But I have you to tell me!"

You laughed and shook your head, "Yeah, you're lucky you do."

[losing-it-lately]

Hi!!! Can I request a song fic, “Maria, Count me in”, with Remus Lupin x reader!!

Dear Maria, Count Me In

wc: 0.7k

best friend!remus lupin x reader

fluff, i could only find the song dear maria, count me in, but this was so fun and it was kind of cheeky to me, so i decided i would write about a best friend remus who would do anything for you, including playing along in your schemes (ends in some kissing too 🫣)

You weren't short on cash, but it never hurts to have a little bit more? At least, that's what Marlene Mckinnon said to persuade you into making personalised charms and potions for students. It's tough to be an entrepreneur stuck in high school, but you were determined to work this out. The first iteration of the plan started in the great hall after hearing some kids complain about how often they misplaced their robes. “A crystal orb showing the location of an item could be helpful,” you whispered to your friends, and when everyone agreed instead of laughed at the absurdity, Lily realised you had a gift; your final iteration of your plan was with Remus in the Astronomy tower.

“I think I should start my own business.” Nights like this were perfect for everything; gorging on whatever snacks you want, sharing your most intimate secrets, planning out stupid pranks, and tonight, it would be for gauging your new idea with Gryffindor’s best prefect. You could feel Remus shift on the blanket next to you. As he continued to look at the stars, he started humming in approval. Maybe this was a great idea. And so the star gazing was cut short for a detailed plan including marketing, price gauging and magic; Remus Lupin doesn't half-arse things as he says every single prank.

In the bathroom with Moaning Myrtle, a sign was placed: “Out of Order” with both of your initials underneath. Next was the word of mouth. Kids from all houses, mostly older teens, started purchasing things. Sweets to prank their friends, a drink to reduce hangovers or to keep them awake, a charm that can write notes for you. Then the littles came in, asking for ways to track lost items, maps to see which staircases are changing, charms to turn drawings into little friends that follow you around- business was truly booming.

But it wasn't too long before a professor found you both. While Slughorn and Mcgonagall loved having you as students, there was a “legal guideline” that prevented you from selling to students without a license and having unchecked charms and potions. You both had become totally busted, losing all your Hogsmeade privileges for the next month and having a detention every Friday, and you felt so horrible. Every week Remus would be stuck cleaning random cauldrons and crap because of your idea, the one that he refused to get money off of. You were so sure that you could have taken the brunt of the punishment, but he refused consistently. It made you sick to your stomach.

“I still don't understand why you're here, Remus.” The feeling was eating away at you. “This wasn't your idea! At most, this is 90% my fault.”

Remus hated seeing you sulk like this. He just didn't want you to be alone in these detentions (or wanted to be alone with you), of course, he would admit being a part of the problem.

“I’m your best friend, if I bail, who else will you be counting on?” A shy smile spreads across his freckled and scarred face; Remus loves all the different ways that he is yours.

“I just…”

“Stop feeling guilty. This was my choice, I’m not going to let you clean these flasks alone” His hands were on your shoulders, and his eyes were bearing into yours… until they weren't. It was so miniscule, the faintest flicker down to your lips. But you saw it, and worse, you felt it, you felt the tension shift. One hand crept upwards to your neck, resting patiently at the base. You let out a hasty breath and he responded in the softest chuckle. It was too late before you realised you had been looking at his lips the entire time.

“Can I,” the softest whisper that made your chest coil up.

You squeaked a response out, “what?”

“Kiss you. Can I kiss you?” If he hadn't been leaning in, you wouldn't have heard the full question, but it didn't matter; you had started nodding as soon as you responded.

He brought himself closer, using gentle hands and even gentler lips to bridge the gap; Remus kissed soft and then he kissed harder with passion.

He pulled away momentarily (pulled away being a stretch as he still resided in your personal space, you could feel him breathing in your air). “We should stop, we have the pots.” His cheeks rosied a little. Like a little kid with candy, he didn't want to ruin it too quickly. “Can you kiss me when we are done too? Maybe on a first date?”

[encrucijada]

HAZE DOGS — a wip by ester cuervos

【 genre & categroy: horror, low fantasy, adult 】

【 pov: 2nd person retrospective 】

【 what if princess mononoke, the hunt from the magnus archives, and night in the woods had a baby. guy too scared for horror keeps writing it. great news for all the girls (gender neutral) who've ever wanted to go apeshit!! i'm technically catholic so i'm allowed to bastardise catholicism 】

【 cw: cults, blood and gore, religious blasphemy, cannibalism, harm to animals 】

【 tone & themes: feminine horror, corruption, bottled rage, divinity, unhinged, atmospheric, eerie, immortality/mortality 】

a b o u t : an isolated town is haunted by otherworldly canines incapable of dying. when connor hidalgo mejía comes back to life after being sacrificed by her old classmates, the town finds a temporary solution to their problem that will keep more people from dying: they offer connor and only connor to the animals. with her boyfriend's mother at the head, connor becomes the reluctant but not entirely unwilling idol of worship of a cult that begins to form around her. the people of her town really believe she can somehow free them of this haunting. but aurora vidal isn't the only one pulling the strings for power. everyone wants a piece of connor's divinity, a god is easy to manipulate when she's actually just a nineteen-year-old girl who up until last month only had two concerns: make it to tomorrow and get to know her estranged brother. the temporary solution starts to feel like a permanent one with connor soon not being able to find peace in life or in death.

another story about a girl in a white dress getting sacrificed... except she's wearing cool alternative clothes on top of that white dress. also the dark academia plot of "person we all hate died under mysterious circumstances" except this time the person keeps coming back to life, worse each time.

c h a r a c t e r s :

connor hidalgo mejía. she/they. embodies the energy of the "alt friend" from 00s teen movies. would have bitten you to win an argument even before things got freaky. what if jesus was a dog.

ángel quijada vidal. he/they. connor's boyfriend. dark academia protagonist who got lost and ended up in a horror movie. ignoring social cues on purpose because he thinks they're stupid.

delilah estévez herrera. she/her. connor's best friend. literally the prettiest person in the room at all times. not joining your cult bestie sick aesthetic tho. borrowing her from my buddy jude <3

acacia quijada vidal. she/her. connor's frenemy. would befriend you and then vaguepost about you online. ángel's sister. youngest sister syndrome. dead blue eyes.

aurora vidal ochoa. she/her. ángel's mum. gaslight gatekeep girlboss. woke up and decided to become a cult leader. marisa coulter energy (derogatory).

benjy hidalgo mejía. he/him. connor's brother, apparently. has the energy of the bum older brother with a shitty band and a warning sign of his door you'd find in a 90s movie.

zagreus. he/it. pubby :3 nothing weird going on here i prommy.

aesthetic: a foggy open field, coyote howls in the dead of night, wiping blood from your mouth, maximalist teen girl bedrooms, light reflecting off of animal eyes, an empty dilapidated church, bite marks on your shoulder, tall grass swaying in the breeze, an abandoned fountain filled with greenish water, broken statues, taxidermy animals, the rattle of a dog's chain, crackling television signal, cloudy weather and the smell of ozone before a storm, glitter makeup rolling down your cheeks, music so loud others hear it on your headphones, a lake with party trash floating on the surface, your fanciest clothes splattered with blood, the cold smoothness of fine jewellery, low quality camera footage, a trail of kisses down your spine, teeth that are too sharp, halos made with neon bracelets, cupping your cheeks with bloodied hands, curling up under the covers in bed when it's cold

snippet!!!

“Cool, right?” you asked your reflection, answered yourself with a smile that cut your purple mouth in two with white teeth.

You grabbed your keys.

Benjy was in the living room. He still occupied space like he was a guest instead of a resident, you looked at him and tried to find yourself on his face, on his shoulders, his hair, his hands. But other than the brown of your skin and his skin, you couldn’t, the only thing you shared that your mum had too were the freckles, but what did that prove? If that was proof of kin then Ángel would be your brother, Dafne a quarter of something with the smattered speckles on the bridge of their nose.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

He was your brother enough to talk like he’d known all nineteen years of your life.

You stopped in front of the television, a horror movie screaming behind you, blood and guts and bad sound effects of tearing skin, someone’s burbly wail from a cut throat.

“Vidal party.”

“What’s a Vidal? Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“They own like half the town, huge house, can’t miss it.”

“And they invited the likes of you?”

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 12

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“Oh, Alex, hey” I say after bumping into him. “I wasn't expecting to see you at work today. Don't you have the other shift anymore?”

“I do, yeah. But they asked me if I could cover for you while you were sick, and now the whole schedule is a mess.”

Oh, yes. Because I've been sick with the most horrible cold known to human history mixed with the worst stomach bug ever. My mother constantly told me that I was just overreacting, but I felt so poorly I thought they would have to take me to the hospital and that that would be the end. That I would leave this world without trying the rice. Because that hasn't happened either.

When we moved from St. George's to Tottenham training centre, Declan didn't come with us. The doctors checked his hamstring again and decided it was best if he went back home to rest since he would not be fit enough to play the next game, which meant that we didn't see each other again.

Then while he was out for the next couple of games with Arsenal, and like happened last time he was injured, he basically ignored me. Kennedy told me that it probably was because he loves football so much that when he can't play, he doesn't feel like the best company and just wants to be on his own, that James had done it too. But that annoying voice inside my head kept telling me that I had done something and he was ignoring me on purpose. 

After that I got sick, was in bed for like two weeks, and now here we are. It's been a month since the last time I saw Declan, and the most we've done has been send each other a couple of texts asking how we are and if we've recovered.

“Then are we working together again?” I ask Alex.

“Until they fix things, it looks like it, yes” he sighs. Great. He still hates me.

“Liv, this just arrived for you” one of our coworkers says. 

“Oh, thank you” I say, taking the small bouquet of red roses she was carrying. 

“Sorry for being so mia, I will make it up to you. Are you free Saturday night? DR” Alex says. 

“What…” Oh, shit. He's reading the card that came with the flowers. “That's personal!” I say, snatching it from his hands. 

“It fell from the bouquet and when I picked it up I couldn't help but read it” he shrugs. 

“Yes, of course. You couldn't help it” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“Is DR who I think it is or are you dating Daniel Ricciardo now?” he chuckles.

“What?”

“Liv, are you still seeing Rice despite basically everyone telling you it is a mistake?”

“We are just friends, Alex.”

“Now friends send each other red roses?” he laughs.

“Whatever.”

“He's a football player, Liv. He is bound to break your heart.”

“You don't know him.”

“And you do? C'mon. The moment he meets another girl he finds hot he will move on and forget about you. Or the moment he manages to get between your legs. Has he done it already?” 

“Fuck you, Alex” I say, slapping his face as hard as I can and walking away, taking deep breaths to stop me from crying. Stupid twat.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Are you free Saturday night? That's what Declan's note said. And what did I think it meant? That we were going out for dinner or something like that, that we were going to have that date. But he had other plans, because he was playing on Saturday night.

“I want you to come to my game against Newcastle” he says over facetime.

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I don't support Arsenal.”

“But you do support me, don't you?”

“Yeah, I guess” I shrug.

“Then come watch me play, Liv. If I score I will dedicate you the goal, I promise.”

“And do what, a L with your fingers or something?” I laugh. 

“For example.”

And now here I am, at the Emirates, a stupid smile on my face while I clap with everyone else as the players thank the fans for their support. Because they've won, and they've done it thanks to Declan's goal.

The game was the worst. Newcastle spent the 90 minutes provoking the Arsenal players, the referee only showing them yellow cards when they were the ones getting fouled. And when it looked like it would be ending with no goals, that Arsenal would be dropping points and leaving Manchester City alone on the top, the ball got to Declan and he shot.

I'm pretty sure the whole stadium held their breaths (me included) as the ball left his foot, all eyes on it as it moved past all the Newcastle players, the goalkeeper not managing to stop it. And when it hit the back of the net, we all screamed at the same time. The fans, the players, Arteta and his team. Everyone. 

He had done it. Declan had scored and won the game. And did he remember about the celebration? He did. He searched for me in the stands and did a L over his chest. Over his heart. Cheesy? Very. But I loved it.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ok, so you stay here and get changed, and I'll be back once everything is ready.”

“Aren't you going to tell me what have you planned?”

“Nope” Declan smiles, kissing my nose and leaving me alone in his garage.

After a little make out session in his car once the game was over to show him how proud of him I was, we made it to his house, where he had planned something special. Something that he wasn't telling me about, and that for some reason involved me wearing the same clothes I had worn during our last night in Paris, having to get change in his garage because I couldn't see just yet what was inside the house. 

“It'll be worth it, you'll see” he had told me. 

And it better be, because putting on a nice dress between cars that cost three or four times what mine does is, to say the least, an experience.

“Are you ready, Liv?” Declan says, slowly opening the door.

“Yep.”

“Great. Then let's go” he says, offering me his hand. “Paris is waiting for us.”

“Paris?” I ask with a confused look.

“Paris” he smiles as we step into the house. 

“Oh my God, Declan!” I gasp.

“Do you like it?” he says, hugging me from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder.

“I love it.” 

He had recreated Paris inside his house. He had printed photos from all the places we had visited during our trip and put them on the walls of the corridor that lead to the living room, including some of the ones we had taken together or of each other. But it didn't end there. Because inside the living room, he had recreated the restaurant where we had been that last night, candles and everything. He even had something like a live video of Paris at night playing on the tv to look as if those were our views.

“I wanted to make it up to you for that night. Give it a second go and make it as special as it was supposed to be.”

“Declan, this is… I… I don't know what to say.”

“Are you speechless?” he asks while moving to be in front of me, one of his hands caressing my cheek, the other on my waist, pulling me closer to him. 

“Totally” I somehow manage to reply. Because my heart is beating faster than ever, the butterflies on my stomach are throwing a party, and my knees are threatening to give up any moment now. 

“Good” he smiles before kissing me. 

That kiss was the first of many that night. Kisses that after the most perfect dinner, would lead us to his room. To our clothes scattered around the floor, to him making me feel things I didn't know were possible.

“Do you want to keep going?” Declan says, brushing his nose against mine. “This time I'm ready” he says, moving to open a small box sitting on his bedside table. 

“Oh my God, Declan. Who keeps his condoms in a Louis Vuitton box?” I laugh.

“I do” he smiles.

“What if one day someone comes in, opens it thinking it is a jewellery box, and sees that? Like, your mum, for example.”

“She'll probably be glad to know that I am taking precautions” he shrugs.

“You mean that you are taking precautions now.”

“Better late than never, Olivia” he grins.

“I seriously can't believe you chose to put them there” I laugh again. “It is so tacky.” 

“It may be tacky, but here you are, in my bed, completely naked, and waiting for me to make you moan my name. Again” he smirks. “Unless you want to stop, of course.”

“I mean, that box is giving me the ick but… No. I don't want to stop here. I want it all. I want you, Declan” I say, my eyes fixed on his as I say those last words. 

“I want you too, Liv” he says before kissing me.