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chestnutninny · 4 months ago

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Dinner Date

No warnings, just pure fluff with Emily :)))

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The last few weeks, you had noticed Emily’s change in behaviour. She had been a lot more subdued than usual and it was starting to show to the rest of the team too. Every time you were both in the same room, her head would remain down and if you tried to talk to her, she would just stammer out an excuse and run off somewhere else.

“You know, you should just ask her out.” Derek remarked.

“What?” Emily responded, genuine confusion flashing across her features.

“Those feelings that you have, they aren’t going to go away any time soon. Trust me. What’s the worst that she’ll say, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Emily frowned at him, not fully agreeing with his statement. She could think of lots of bad ways it could end up turning out, you being completely disgusted by her admission. However, she knew that at least then she’d have some form of validation.

She sat at her desk, plucking up the courage to ask you out, and thinking of how she would word it. She thought that she would keep it casual and just ask you out for dinner, but ultimately decided that coffee would suffice if you were limited for time. She stood up and made her way towards your desk as you were packing up your belongings, getting ready to go home after finishing your paperwork.

“Hey.” She greeted, nervously shuffling from foot to foot.

“Hi, Em!” You looked up at her, a smile taking its place on your lips. She couldn’t help the blush that tinted her cheeks at the nickname that effortlessly slipped from your mouth.

“I was thinking…”

“Oh no, I thought I could smell burning.” You joked with a smirk on your face, trying to lighten the mood as you could see she was nervous. You watched as she visibly relaxed slightly, a chuckle leaving her mouth in a sigh as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Would you…” She started and abruptly stopped, watching as your face waited for her to continue, “Would you like- I mean, if you’re not busy…We could get lunch or dinner? Or maybe just coffee, if you don’t have a lot of time?”

“Do I make you nervous?” You stood closer to her, her breath catching in her throat, as you tucked a lock of her raven hair behind her ear. You chuckled as her head nodded rapidly, “I can do dinner.”

“Wait, really? I can’t lie, I didn't think any further than that, I wasn’t expecting you to agree.”

“Aw, Emily. Well, have a think about a date and time and just let me know.” She nodded along and returned back to her own desk, smiling as you exited the room.

“As if you picked her up, stuttering like that.” Derek laughed, feigning shock when Emily threw a scrunched up piece of paper towards him.

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The next day, Hotch had told everyone that they would have a shorter day, only having to do the final bits of paperwork that was left. You were earlier than the majority of the team, wanting to get a head start of the work. You looked up as you felt someone stood above you.

“Good morning.” Emily chirped, setting a cup of coffee down on your desk.

“Morning. Is this for me?” You smiled when she nodded at you walking past your desk and sitting up to her own.

You looked at the cup and took notice of the sticky note that was attached to the side of the cup. You took it off and took a sip of the warm beverage before reading the note. You hummed as the coffee enveloped your taste buds, blushing as you released that Emily had remembered your very specific order, before shouting a “thank you” over your shoulder.

‘Hey, pretty. Be ready for 7, I’ll see you then.’

You held the note closer to you, getting a smell of her perfume, your stomach doing backflips at the thought of tonight.

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You stood in front of the mirror, checking yourself out in the small, black dress you decided on wearing, admiring the way it hugged your curves and pushed up your cleavage just enough to grab Emily’s attention. You still couldn’t completely shake the nerves that you were feeling, yet excited to finally have Emily in a way that wasn’t just friends. You were excited to see where she had decided to take you, when suddenly a knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts.

You answered the door, seeing Emily standing at the other side of the threshold to your apartment. She was wearing a white dress shirt with flared black trousers, the pants fitting snugly around her hips. She was holding a small bouquet of flowers out towards you, all of your favourite flowers compiled together perfectly.

“Hey, you.” You leaned forward, planting a kiss to her cheek, a satisfied smirk leading its way on your face at the blush that kept up Emily’s neck.

“Hey! Wow, you look so beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Em. But I think you take the title for the most beautiful.”

You invited her into your apartment and she handed you the flowers, watching as you put them in a vase after filling it with water. She waited patiently for you to slip your shoes on and grab your purse before heading towards the front door. After you locked your door, you linked your arm with Emily’s and headed down to the parking section of your apartment complex.

“You know, I never actually gave you my address.” You bumped your shoulder with your own as you squinted your eyes at her.

“Well…Okay, I may or may not have asked Garcia to look it up on the computer system.” She shrugged nonchalantly, however you could see the embarrassment bubble in her eyes. You giggle at the flush that covers her face, and the way she avoids your eyes.

As you reach her car, she pulls your door open for you, waiting for you to get comfortable before closing the door to make her way around to her own side of the car. She ensures that you have your belt on before putting the car into drive and setting off towards your destination for tonight. You gasp as you pull into the parking lot of a new, and very fancy, restaurant that had just opened just outside of your town.

You didn’t even want to think about how costly this place is and how Emily had even managed to snag a reservation at the restaurant as the demands were high. You were pulled from your thoughts when your car door swung open, revealing Emily stood by your side with her hand outstretched, ready for you to take. You unclipped your seatbelt and took her hand, letting her guide you to the entrance to the restaurant.

She gave the reservation name at the front desk, following as the waiter led you both to your table, which was quiet and private in the corner of the restaurant. She ordered drinks for you both as you looked through the ample meals that were presented on the menus in front of you both. You settled on a risotto, which you couldn’t completely pronounce the name of, and Emily ordered the Fiorentina steak for herself.

The conversation flowed easily between the two of you throughout the night, and you noticed the confidence that Emily had slowly started to gain, showing that she had become more comfortable about being around you, especially alone together. You had both finished your meals and had ended with your dessert, just sipping the remains of the red wine that resided in your glasses. Emily had waved the waiter over to pay the bill, declining your offer of going half with her payment.

“You didn’t have to do that, Em.” You complained, knowing that she had spent an absolute fortune on the meals that you had helped devour.

“Well, I wanted to have the best first date with such a gorgeous woman.” She winked over to you, which left you blushing and stuttering over your words, the tables having completely flipped by now.

She led you out of the restaurant, your hand in hers, and guided you back to the car before she set off to drop you back off at your apartment. She turned on the radio as you both settled into the car, and your favourite song started to play, echoing off the windows of the vehicle.

“Oh my God, I love this song!” You exclaimed, you smile growing as Emily’s hand reached over and turned the volume up more, so that she could hear it better.

She giggled to herself as the chorus came on and you began to sing your heart out to the song, watching the way you looked so happy and care-free, you looked the most beautiful right now. The song came to a close and you both sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the company of being together right now. After a while, the car pulled into your apartment complex and Emily looked over to you.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” She decided, opening the driver's door before opening your door for you.

You reached for her hand as you walked up the path to the main doors, and closer towards your apartment. You decided to take the stairs rather than the lift, wanting to spend as much time with Emily as you could before the night was over and she retired to her own home. You both slowed as you arrived at your apartment door,her hand lingering in yours.

“Thank you for tonight, Em. It’s honestly been amazing.” You smiled as your head dipped down, your hair falling slightly to frame your face.

“No, thank you, Y/N. I’m glad that I finally had the courage to ask you out. I’m really excited for our next one.”

“Ohh, so there’s going to be a next on, huh?” You smirked, despite the butterflies that were fluttering in your stomach with nervousness and excitement at the mention of another date with Emily.

“U-Um, only if you want of course?” Emily stuttered, her confidence flattering slightly.

“Of course, Emily. I’d love nothing more.”

You reached into your purse, pulling out your keys and sliding them into the door. Emily reached out her hand and took your hand in hers, giving it a squeeze in order to gain your attention. She tucks a strand of your hair that came loose behind your ear.

You leaned in closer to her, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt her warmth breath on your face, a complete contrast to the cool night. She leaned in and closed the gap in between you both. Her hands caress your cheeks, holding you close to her face, her body pressing against your own.

“Thank you for tonight, Y/N.” Emily gasps out as you both part, coming up for air.

“Goodnight.” She pressed a kiss to your cheek, before setting off back down your corridor.

“Goodnight, Em.” You whispered back, watching as she turned the corner to the corridor, shooting you a smile over her shoulder as she disappeared from your sight.

You let yourself into your apartment and set down your belongings, a huge grin residing on your face after your incredible date. You couldn't wait for tomorrow at work, knowing exactly that Emily would return to her stuttering self without the liquid courage, and you could already see the deep blush setting on her face when her eyes would meet your own. You were snagged from your thoughts as your phone pinged.

‘I’m home, sweetheart.’

Your heart fluttered at the nickname as well as her informing you that she was home and safe. You slipped on your pyjamas and got into bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut and your head filled with happy memories of the night that you’d just participated in.

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Taglist: @borinxnovak @zolofts @lolololalalala @chloeelou02x (join my taglist here.)

#emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds

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hauntedestheart · 1 year ago

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Confidence Booster (Male Bodyswap)

Part 1:

Hector Rivera had woken up that morning in bed missing forty pounds of muscle, six inches of height, and four inches... somewhere else. So already that was a bad start to his day- but then when he'd stumbled into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, it had gotten a whole lot worse.

Ray Baldwin. He'd been turned into fuck Ray Baldwin! He didn't have anything against the guy but he was just so... not like Hector.

In many ways the two were complete opposites: while Hector was bold and outgoing, a natural leader, Ray was more reserved and docile, a meek follower. These personality traits extended to their physicalities as well, with Hector being a towering specimen of manhood (built like a brick house) while Ray was short and slender (a textbook geek, pun intended). And now Hector was short and slender while Ray... where was Ray?

As a small blessing, Hector had still been in in his own bedroom, but everything looked out of place because of his shorter vantage point and it made him feel a bit like an intruder. His phone was still on the bedside table where he'd left it before and when he finally got his wits about him to check it he found a barrage of texts from Ray waitinf for him. While most of them were panicked nonsense, Hector gathered from some of the more sane ones that Ray was making his way over on foot. Meaning Hector's body was out there wandering the streets without him!

Of course Hector wasn't going to sit around and wait- he set out to meet Ray halfway. Mortifyingly, the only thing he had that fit his new body were an old hoodie that a girl had left at his place and a pair of athletic shorts that managed to stay up when he tightened the drawstring all the way (and even then they still hung down past his knees), but he didn't have any other options so he gritted his teeth and walked out the door dressed like a clown. He was halfway to Ray's place when he spotted a tall brown hunk stumbling down the street with a confused look on his face- Hector's face.

He'd choked on air at the sight of his real body- he couldn't believe the outfit Ray had crammed his body into! The white tank top was practically transparent, his nipples plainly visible as his pecs strained against the fabric, and the skimpy shorts left nothing to the imagination. His entire body was on display for anyone who walked by to see!

Being trapped in Ray's body was bad enough, but seeing his incredible body on display before him was just salt in the wound. The two men locked eyes, and Ray let out a little whimper.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Hector hissed, staring in horror at the clothes the muscular young man standing before him was stuffed into.

Ray, seeming just as uncomfortable as Hector was, grimaced. "When I woke up this morning your body tore through my clothes and this was the only thing I had that fit." Ray crossed his arms for a little pout, which made his biceps bulge, and it was Hector's turn to grimace. "I lost the shirt I got on my trip to Texas! I loved that shirt."

"Will you forget about your old shirt? I look like a stripper playing a track and field star!" Hector lamented, eying the too tight shirt and the too short shorts distastefully.

"It's not my fault, it's this body!" Ray exclaimed. He threw his arms out to the side for emphasis, stretching them out to their full impressive wingspan. "These shorts are usually baggy on me but your body just has a lot more going on down there. You're just so... big."

Hector's face grew dark and his temples began to throb. How dare this guy talk about Hector's body like it belonged to him!

"I want my body back right now," he snapped, and Ray shrunk back.

"And trust me, I'd give it to you if I could!" Ray sounded completely genuine when he said this, a slight whimper to his voice as he shifted himself around. From the way he held himself it was clear that he was uncomfortable in his new body, and he confirmed it a moment later. "I feel like the Incredible Hulk right now in a bad way, I'm all... bulgey!" He shuddered as he said this, and then winced when the motion made his package jiggle. He sighed with exasperation and stomped his foot, gesturing towards the bulge in his shorts. "And I'm tired of this thing bouncing around!"

Hector gaped. "Dude, stop manhandling my junk in public!"

"Sorry, it's just..." Ray reached down and adjusted his crotch, pushing down on it in an attempt to flatten it out, but the soft flesh immediately bounced back. "How do you deal with this thing? It's always in the way!"

Ray frowned down at his new junk, barely hidden by his shorts, and he jostled it around as he searched for some mystical position that would make it go away. Almost defiantly, as if it were mad at the notion of being hidden, Hector's penis elected to grow instead.

The real Hector's eyes widened as he watched his old body growing aroused. "Dude, cover that up now!"

Ray stared in horror at the obscene bulge forming in his shorts, only semi-hard and already straining at the fabric.

"Oh no!" He shouted, doubling over and placing both hands over his crotch in a desperate attempt to block his growing erection from view. "Sorry, it's just, your penis is so much bigger than mine and I–"

Hector winced at the comment and shuffled uncomfortably, trying desperately not to think about what he'd seen when he'd taken a piss that morning. "Trust me, I'm painfully aware of the size difference."

"I'm so sorry Hector," Ray gushed, tears brimming in his eyes. "I didn't mean to disrespect you and-"

And then he started crying in earnest, which meant Hector was stuck with a six foot tall hunk wearing what was basically lingerie sobbing in the middle of the sidewalk with a full boner- he hated his life. It was early in the morning so the two were alone, but they were still on an open street, and Hector needed to calm Ray down fast.

"Stop apologizing, okay?" He said firmly, reaching up to grab his own shoulders and squeezing them with as much might as he could muster. Something about it must have gotten through to Ray because he paused in his sobs and looked at Hector, who did his best to smile reassuringly. "Look, it's just- I know we're both freaked out about this, but stressing out and losing our minds isn't gonna help anybody. We need to calm down, okay? Just, take a deep breath or something."

"A deep breath, yeah, okay, I can do that," Ray babbled, and then his massive chest heaved up and down. His breaths were frantic at first, but gradually, he relaxed.

"Feeling better?" Hector asked, and Ray nodded. "Okay good. Now, do you have any clue how this happened?"

"No, I just woke up this morning and I was like this! I had to sneak out the window this morning so my family wouldn't see me–" A panicked expression crossed Ray's face. "Oh no, what am I going to tell my family? I can't go home looking like this!"

"You aren't going to tell them anything, because if we tell them we switched bodies they're going to send us to the loony bin," Hector said firmly, and then he scoffed. "And by the way, looking like that is a goddamn blessing, okay? Show some respect to my body."

"Sorry, it's just–" Ray shuffled uncomfortably and fiddled with his hands, his meek body language looking rather out of place on Hector's hulking body. "I'm not really used to being a big guy like this."

Hector sighed and rubbed at his temples, fighting an oncoming headache. He may be small now, but he was clearly going to have to be the leader in this situation.

"Don't worry, we'll figure this out, okay?" Hector finally said, and Ray nodded in relief. "But until then, we don't do anything to draw attention to ourselves, okay? We just lay low for a while."

Ray smiled with his handsome new face. "Definitely."

Part 2:

Ray was not laying low.

Research into getting their own bodies back was going slowly (Google search results for "men switching bodies" just turned up online erotica) but perhaps it would be going faster if Hector had some help. Unfortunately, Ray was too busy making an ass of himself to pitch in... which normally wouldn't be a problem, except he was using Hector's ass to do it.

See, Ray had realized what Hector had known all along: being hot is fun. After the initial shock of waking up in a different body had faded, Ray had taken stock of what he'd gained in the swap, and he found he liked it.

For one thing, he had pecs now. Pecs. Huge slabs of muscle that jutted out from his chest that jiggled when he jumped up and down. Tight, perfectly formed, and with a pretty brown nipple at the peak of each- he hadn't been able to resist giving them a little squeeze, and he'd nearly fallen down when one of his fingers grazed one of his nipples and it sent shockwaves of pleasures throughout his body. His old sunken chest certainly hadn't been this fun!

And down below those pecs were the abs, which he was really a fan of. As a skinny guy, he'd always had a flat stomach, but he quickly realized there was a difference between having a flat stomach and having a toned stomach. Ray didn't know how many sit ups Hector had done in his lifetime to get those cheese grater abs, but he was glad he'd done them.

Big arms were nice too. Ray had a habit of scratching behind his head and he noticed that every time he did so eyes were always drawn the way his bulging biceps would flex when he lifted them- not that he could blame anyone for staring. It was a beautiful sight! Hector's arms were the part of body that belied his strength the most, almost intimidatingly large, and Ray quickly learned that many situations could be controlled just by crossing his arms and letting the muscles pop out.

The ass had taken a bit of getting used to (there had been several embarrassing incidents where he'd knocked things off of tables because he forgot to account for how much junk was in his new trunk) but Ray had quickly come to embrace it- in fact, he was embracing it often. He loved the feeling of the firm, supple flesh beneath his hands, which was surprisingly soft considering how tough the rest of Hector's body was. It was a proper bubble butt and it became Ray's favorite part to show off, ready to shake at a moment's notice.

And his new dick... Ray knew size wasn't everything, but he wasn't exactly opposed to getting an upgrade in that area. At first he'd been annoyed by the damn thing because it was nearly impossible to hide the bulge it made in his pants, and he felt like all eyes were on him when he was just trying to walk down the street. It wasn't his fault it looked like he was smuggling produce in his shorts!

But he didn't have to be self-conscious, he realized, because people weren't judging him. They were jealous of him. Lusting after him. They wanted what he had, one way or another, and he should be proud of it. So he stopped hunching over, stood up straight, and let everyone see what kind of man he was.

Not to mention the stamina of Hector's body was incredible. His cock was practically spring loaded, jumping to attention at the slightest hint of arousal, and being trapped in Hector's stupidly sexy body meant that Ray experienced that any time he so much as glanced down. He'd managed to hold out for two days before caving and seizing a hold of his manhood and pumping one out– and there was no turning back after that.

That orgasm had opened a floodgate in Ray. He already had a new body, but after that, he felt like a whole new man. And it turned out that man was a bit of a show-off.

While Hector was an outgoing guy, Ray had taken it to another level. He lost his shirt at any opportunity, eager to expose his new treasures to the world, and it was never long until his pants followed as well. It was excessive, but the sight of an adonis like Hector Rivera in his underwear, bulge swinging heavily, was something nobody wanted to complain about.

Invitations to parties and nights out were flooding in– everybody wanted to bring "Hector" along because sooner or later his shirt would come off... and he wasn't shy about letting people feel either. Ray was taking any opportunity he could to flaunt Hector's rippling muscles, and he was having the time of his life doing it.

The real Hector found it infuriating– one because Ray was making everyone in town think that he was an exhibitionist, and two because seeing his body flaunted in his face just reminded him of what he was missing.

If anything Ray was getting a bit too comfortable in Hector's body, which made the real Hector nervous. If Hector did find a way for them to switch back, would he even be able to convince Ray to take it?

Part 3:

"Ray, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Hector shouted, stomping down the driveway towards where Ray was making a display of himself jumping rope. Ray gave him an unimpressed look.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm working out," Ray kept jumping rope, which made his ample chest heave up and down; the sweat on his tan brown skin caught the light and made him glisten. "I wanna keep this body in shape after all."

"Okay, but why are you doing it shirtless in my front yard?" Hector protested, glancing around nervously. A few of his neighbors were milling about, not-so-subtly enjoying the show Ray was putting on for them, and Hector waved at them to look away. "Everyone can see you!"

"So?" Ray shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'll give 'em something to look at. You know your chest bounces, right?"

He sucked in a deep breath and puffed his chest out, creating an impressive sight as his bulging pecs jiggled obscenely with each bounce, and the jump rope dropped the floor while his two hands slid up his body and cupped around his pecs. In full view of everyone he began to squeeze them, and as he did so he smiled fondly down at them like they were beloved pets.

"Stop feeling my body up like that!" Hector hissed, and Ray rolled his eyes but planted his feet on the ground and lifted his hands up, palms open. Hector huffed in relief. "Thank you. Now can we–"

"Sorry, just gotta stretch for a second–" Ray interrupted him, and Hector blinked. Then Ray reached both of his arms back behind his neck, muscles popping as he bared his armpits, and arched his back so his hips thrust forwards like a stripper. Through the thin grey fabric of his sweatpants, it was obvious he wasn't wearing underwear. "Oh shit that feels so good."

He squinted his eyes shut and gave a groan of relief that was louder than strictly necessary that echoed down the street, and a passing car nearly crashed into a stop sign. Ray relaxed to a more normal pose and threw the dazed driver a wave and a wink.

"That keeps happening," he chuckled as he watched the car speed off down the street. Then he threw one muscular arm behind his head, baring a sweaty armpit for the world to see, while the other hand rubbed absently at the six-pack on his belly.

Hector's mouth was wide open in shock at the shameless display before him– what had happened to the shy Ray he knew? Hector's face reddened and he grabbed at Ray's arms, attempting to pull them down and tug the man back towards the house, but with Ray's skinny frame he had no chance of moving his former body even an inch. He gave up and tossed his hands in the air in frustration.

"You've gone mad with power," Hector gasped out.

Ray shook his head and shrugged. "Chill out Hector, I'm just having a little fun."

"You're acting like a cam boy is what you're doing," Hector snapped, crossing his skinny arms and narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "It just seems like you're getting a little too cozy in my body... almost like you don't even want to switch back."

Ray's shoulders slumped, and for a second Hector could see a glimpse of the shy guy he was more familiar with.

"Look, for the last time, I didn't do this! I miss my family and I miss my life," Ray sighed, but then shook his head and drew himself back up. "But since it happened, I'm gonna take advantage of it! Do you know what it was like to go from that–" he pointed at his original body. "to this?"

He spread his arms out and spun around, allowing Hector to take in the full view of the body that used to belong to him. Ray hadn't been lying about taking good care of it- perhaps it was just that he was seeing himself from the outside now, but Hector's body looked better than it had in his entire life.

"I went from being a beanpole to having B-cup tits and an ass you could balance a latte on!" Ray reached out to the side and flexed one of his arms, the toned muscle rising into a small mountain. "Your arms are wider than my neck! And your abs are probably harder than my bones." He tittered with excitement, but then his smile softened. "Getting to be you has been incredible and I just... I wanted to enjoy it. But I'm not evil Hector, if you find a solution, I'll give you your body back. Until then though? I'm gonna enjoy every second of it."

Hector frowned. His time in Ray's body, robbed of all of his physical advantages, had been quite a bad time for him, and Ray had to live with that all the time. Could he really blame the little guy for going a bit over the top?

"Okay, I'm still mad at you for acting like a whore," Hector chastised, and he watched Ray shrink before him, which was comforting in a way. Even with their bodies switched, they were still the same guys inside. "BUT, I get it. You officially have my blessing to have a little bit of fun- while we look for a solution;"

"Really? Thanks Hector!" Ray smiled, yanking the other man into a bone crushing hug. Hector winced in pain, but returned the embrace with good faith. "Tell you what, why don't we go research how to switch back right now, okay? Just let me wash off first."

Ray released Hector and then grabbed the hose from off the ground and lifted it to his face, spraying the water dramatically into his face and shaking out his hair. Water cascaded across his nearly naked body, falling like a waterfall from his pecs and trickling through the ridges created by his abs.

Hector swallowed. "Any chance you can do it less... sexually?"

"Nope."

#male body swap #bodyswap #body swap #have been working on this one for a while now #wanted to just write a classic no-strings body swap between two dudes (one of my favorite setups)

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ticktockmyclockworkhart · 5 months ago

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I don't really think of any modern AUs for red dead for some reason, idk, I have modern AU thoughts for any other piece of media that takes place in the past but for some reason I just can't separate these guys from the old west for the life of me

BUT the one modern AU thought I had and that I have very frequently is the thought of the entire Van Der Linde gang going to disneyland. That thought just tickles me. Like

Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen make it their mission to go meet every single disney princess and they also kidnap Arthur and make him go with them. But he actually ends up having a kinda fun time because he enjoys wonder and whimsy, doesn't mean every character interaction before they took pictures wasn't stiflingly awkward though. he mumbled the entire time and refused to do any whimsical poses for the pictures

Hosea and Dutch are camped out somewhere shady by the park entrance with everyone's bags and snacks and water to act as home base and collect all their idiots at the end of the day, the only time they move is when an employee runs up to them and asks if the exhausted man with the scars on his face who fell asleep on a bench in direct sunlight by splash mountain and may or may not be suffering heat stroke belongs to them and they have to go help John before the park calls an ambulance. They go on exactly one ride at night, the jungle cruise, with arthur and john. Hosea laughs at all the skipper's bad jokes and Dutch thinks the whole thing is fucking stupid

Susan is also camped out with them but she gets worried about everyone too often and keeps getting up to go to everyone's last known location to make sure they're alright, but at some point Sean tells her to go take a picture with the evil stepmother from cinderella because they look like twins so she just goes back to Hosea and Dutch and lets them fend for themselves

Lenny is genuinely having a fucking BLAST but is really embarrassed about it. He does get a picture with belle because she's his favorite disney princess (bookworms ftw) and he runs into Arthur there being held captive by the girls, they both rib each other about what brought them there later. After everything is said and done though he and Arthur totally go on some rides together

Sean WAS hanging out with Lenny but they got separated within like three minutes of entering the park because Sean kept wandering off so Lenny left him to fend for himself, but he actually stayed out of trouble the entire time, surprisingly. He just rode the carousel again and again for like 8 hours because he was piss drunk before he even got to the park (since you can't drink there) and if he closed his eyes it almost didn't give him motion sickness (he never considered the possibility that he could also just not ride anything? Or maybe go to where Hosea and Dutch said they'd be?)

John is living that one viral post where he sat on a bench and fell asleep from heat exhaustion, then woke up to his ice cream melted all over him and mickey mouse putting a cold towel on his forehead. He was there because Jack wanted to ride splash mountain btw and John was terrified of getting on

Kieran lived one of my magical disney park experiences, which was he went on one ride with the group and was feeling good about being included, but then he got off the ride and literally couldn't find a single person he rode with, so he's wandering the park aimlessly worrying if everyone just left him there (this is not exactly what happened to me btw. I went on a ride with an uncle who is no longer an uncle who had a tbi and so could act unpredictably some times, mostly by virtue of being incredibly spacy, he got out of line to go get a drink and when he came back the line had moved up a lot more so he just told me he'd meet me at the end of the ride. Then at the end of the ride I literally could not find him. I wandered the entire area for like twenty minutes realizing he'd wandered off somewhere before I finally gave up and reported it to my cousin who I kid you not was completely unfazed and told me not to worry about it, they'd find him eventually. I still felt so bad about it even after he turned up not even thinking twice about the whole thing)

Abigail is busy being a responsible mother to two children (her husband and also Jack), Jack is having the absolute time of his life and they've lost John about ten times because he's too scared to go on the rides and also too scared of the disney characters to join them for pictures so Abigail eventually gave up looking for him, Dutch and Hosea would find him and babysit him (they did)

Pearson is floating around between the different groups, he's got the big backpack with the snacks, water and sunscreen in it while Hosea and Dutch were holding onto whatever he couldn't carry. He's like pretty ambivalent about everything happening and is kinda just happy to be there, but he is hella interested in all the food vendors and taking notes on what everyone in the gang seemed to enjoy so he can try and make it himself later

Swanson got a little too silly before coming to the park and ended up stuck on the magic teacups ride because he couldn't process how to get off. He was at park lost and found for like two hours before Dutch and Hosea found him, only for him to end up stuck on the teacups AGAIN like an hour later

Sadie thinks this entire trip is fucking stupid and she exclusively sticks to the biggest thrill rides, spending most of her time in california adventure (is that part of the park still called that? it's changed so much since I've last been there), a few people who also enjoy thrill rides have tried accompanying her on her bender but she literally never takes a break and apparently can't get motion sickness

Bill is lost. He was pretty sure he was with Javier and the Marstons at first, but he lost them at some point and now he's stuck in the star wars land and doesn't know where the exit is, small children keep pointing at him and making wookie noises, and he really just needs a drink tbh

Javier has been EVERYWHERE. He has a plan and an itinerary, either keep pace with him or you're getting left behind (rip Bill). He finishes his schedule within like three hours and then goes to hang out with Sadie on her masochistic thrill ride loop before he has to tap out after like five thrill rides in quick succession. He started the day hanging out with the Marstons and Jack insisted he wear a pair of mickey mouse ears, so like the cool uncle he is he agreed and in every picture he's in he's standing there in bedazzled mouse ears with an extremely stoic expression on his face

Charles silently slinks off to critter country (is it still called that? idk how the park has changed) upon getting there because he wants to go see winnie the pooh. After a couple hours of wandering aimlessly and wanting to hit people who crowd too close to him he finds and joins Lenny and Arthur. They go on some rides and then go see winnie the pooh again. Tigger grabs Arthur by the hands and makes him bounce with him and Arthur is in such a whimsical mood and has been doing goofy shit around the park all day at this point that he actually enthusiastically participates. Charles considers it a 10/10 time

Micah was definitely not allowed into the park. 100%

Strauss didn't want to come to disneyland, he had work to do, and the entire gang tried their hardest but unlike several of the other gang members they were unable to force Strauss to join. Party pooper :(

Uncle is having a great fuckin time. He went onto the haunted mansion and just fell asleep and rode the loop until he was personally escorted off by staff because they were worried he died in his sleep or something

Trelawny is there!! They have not seen him for four months but he is there for some reason! Late into the night Arthur got onto the haunted mansion, turned to his left and Trelawny was just. there in the doombuggy with him

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blackenedsnow · 12 days ago

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Trans reader x Beej? 🙏 I love reading your work, btw! 😊

ghost light

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Transgender! Reader

NOTE: Hey!! Thank you so much, this one’s got a big chunk of heart <3 I actually got some help from a trans friend to make this as real as possible. I love hearing from you all, so don’t hesitate to send more asks or thoughts <3

SUMMARY: It’s a weird thing being with Beetlejuice, but it’s also the most fun you've ever had. He makes you feel like yourself in a way no one else does – loud, strange, and totally alive.

There’s something about Beetlejuice that just feels right, in the loudest, strangest way possible. Even on the bad days, when you don’t quite feel like you fit into your own skin, he’s there with that wild grin and endless antics, making you feel like you could belong somewhere. It’s not that he really gets it – you're not even sure he really understands half of what you tell him about yourself, your past, the weirdness of figuring out who you are. But he listens, sort of, as best as Beetlejuice can.

“Wait, you mean to tell me you got a whole… thing with your body?” he says, scratching his scraggly chin with this exaggerated look on his face, like he’s really thinking hard about it. “That’s gotta be a real trip. Personally, I think you’re lucky – I don’t even have skin problems. Or organs. Or haircare needs!"

You laugh because that’s the thing with him. He has this gift of making everything feel like one big, surreal joke – but not in a dismissive way. It’s like he’s lifting the weight right off your shoulders, letting you laugh at yourself in the best possible way.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being you?” You ask, half-joking, half-curious.

He looks at you with these glowing eyes, brows wiggling in a way that’s simultaneously ridiculous and, well, somehow...charming. “Oh, honey, being me is the best gig in the Underworld! And you? You’re pretty good at being you, too, y’know?”

You roll your eyes, feeling that warmth bloom in your chest, the way he can just make everything feel like it’s already okay. And even though his teeth are gross and he’s grinning a little too wide, you believe him.

It’s like he understands the parts of you - you sometimes try to hide – the doubts, the days where you wonder if anyone will really see you the way you are. But with Beetlejuice, you feel seen in a way you never have before, like your weirdness fits perfectly with his own.

“You think I’m good at it?” You say, trying to keep your tone casual. “What’s my thing then? Just…being, I dunno, strange?”

He throws his hands up, a look of mock offense on his face. “Strange? You’re one-of-a-kind, babe. An original! If there was a pageant, I’d parade ya around like a prize! You’re the whole package!”

It’s over-the-top, ridiculous even. But it makes you laugh.

It’s not all fun and games, though. Sometimes, when you're alone, he’ll look at you in this quiet way, without the show or the wild grin. It’s rare, but it’s there – like he really, actually cares. And maybe that’s why you stick around. You think, in his own odd way, he sees you, all of you, even the messy, uncertain parts. And he loves you for it.

One night, you're lying on the creaky old bed in his little corner of the Netherworld, and he’s uncharacteristically quiet. You're lying there beside him, feeling his gaze on you, intense and curious, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“So, what’s the deal with you wanting to change so much?” he asks, in this genuinely curious way, like it’s just a passing thought. Beetlejuice is hundreds of years old, you have to explain a lot to him. “I mean, you’re pretty great as you are, kid. And trust me, I’ve been around long enough to know greatness when I see it.”

You smile, looking down at your hands, feeling a little of that doubt creeping back in. “It’s…complicated. Sometimes, I just don’t feel right in my own skin, like it doesn’t really match, y’know?”

He nods, though you're not sure he fully understands. But it’s the fact that he wants to that makes it matter.

“Look,” he says, leaning over so close that you can see the glint in his eyes, “whatever skin you’re in, I think it’s damn near perfect. Got it?” He grins, flashing those nasty teeth again, but there’s a warmth to it that makes your chest ache.

He pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you let yourself relax into his embrace. You let yourself believe him – even if just for a moment – because in this strange corner of the world, you're exactly who you need to be.

#beetlejuice #keatlejuice #beetlejuice movie #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #keatlejuice x reader #tim burton #tim burton x reader #x reader #ask #request #fanfic #oneshot #trans reader

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veelzievul · 1 month ago

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Honestly, when it comes to canon, I feel like the “WillCare” theory is way too overlooked and despised in the fandom. For those who don't know: “WillCare” is the theory that William actually cared for his family, and many believe that, well.. He didn't. My point is, such surface-level overview of a character's psychology is just... Wrong. When it comes to villainous characters, people just LOVE to exaggerate their recklessness and carelessness, like “oh yeah he doesn't care about anyone or anything cuz he's so cold and cool and stuff 🤪”, and that's just an understanding of a character so dry it genuinely makes me sad. I mean, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but I've seen people literally getting attacked for not agreeing to William being a literal heartless monstrosity

In my opinion, Afton is (OBVIOUSLY) affected by a mental illness, which makes him less empathetic and more risky with his decisions which leads to him displaying serious neglect towards people he should care about

He does not know right and wrong, exposing his family to danger he doesn't see as “that serious”, and he often prioritizes minor victories in his passion over them, which, obviously, creates an appearance of a heartless person, but could actually be a result of him just being... Unstable. Ill.

When it comes to people who are ill, you can't just choose one side of a spectrum and proclaim you're correct. When trying to prove their point, i've seen a lot of people say something like “he did (bad thing), (bad thing) and (bad thing), obviously he doesn't care about anyone! But don't bring up (that one thing where he displayed actual care) because it's overshadowed by the amount of the bad deeds”

Why not take valid arguments into account? The relationships of a character is not some rock-concrete “yes or no” question, it's not “one or the other”, and I think many people fail to understand that. For example, if William actually did not care about anyone, why would he continuously tell Elizabeth not to go to Circus Baby? What would be the point of that? If he did not care what child would be the test subject of the kidnapping mechanism, why care if it's Elizabeth or not? In fact, if it was her, it would be even beneficial to him, as nobody would question his innocence as the owner of the restaraunt if it was his child that dissapeared, and it would be just one less mouth to feed. You can't just leave that out as “inferior” to the arguments that prove his horribleness. Why would he organize a birthday party at his restaraunt for the Crying Child if he did not care? And, when it comes to the movie, why would William give away personal belongings of the victims, his “trophies”, to his daughter? Why would he care to make his kid happy with yet another toy if he could just keep it somewhere, hidden? I think it's obvious he viewed his children as his children, just very negligently exposing them to danger and hurting them with his experiments or his blind devotion to his work. When he stabs Vanessa, you can see a moment of thought and regret in his eyes – which is, of course, just a speculation, but adds to the point.

I feel like people just hate the assumption of Afton being actually human with human feelings, which are, surprise-surprise!, complex, and complexity is what makes a good character. You don't need a character to be literal Satan to be considered a worthy villain, and accepting their humane characteristics does not equal justification for their wrongs. In fact, if you cannot consider a character a villain if they're not the incarnation of evil in their every aspect, it's possible that you find any positive or neutral feature of theirs a worthy excuse that cancels out their every wrongdoing and makes them “less of an antagonist”, which puts your understanding of right and wrong to the question.

Just to be clear, I am not trying to attack anyone in this post, I am not seeking to start an argument – all I'm saying is, if you take EVERYTHING into account, it is false to decide on just one part of a character's behaviour and call it absolute. You should be equally accepting of all opinions and not start unnecessary fights on the internet because somebody thinks differently. Be nice spread love

btw guys english is not my mother language don't question my wording I don't know what I'm saying either

#thanks for coming to my TED talk #willcare #willgrief #william afton #fnaf #afton family

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strawberrykisseslia · 7 months ago

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"i wish you were a boy."

☆ pairing: vanessa shelly x fem! reader

☆ part 1

☆ tw: hurt, no comfort only near the end, slight fluff, not proof read at all, the images do NOT belong to me. only the absolutely trash good fiction.♡ use of y/n once

☆ cw: 1.1k

☆ genuinely dk why it took me so long to write this but this song saved the whole small series, thank her ( no jk, im dead serious )

☆ how i love this trope. ( LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER )

☆ heavily inspired by Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan ( PLEASE I LOVE HER SM, i think this is a normal reaction to her? )

☆ yall... did i make reader toxic? now that i've come to think of it... I HOPE NOT OH MY GOD

☆ also so so sorry if it looks messy!!! i didnt write it on Tumblr but i kinda like it, thoughts? please give me thoughts about this whole thing because i'm genuinely not sure how to feel about it, would appreciate it!

It has been some time since you and Vanessa actually had a right conversation. always passing each other quickly though the house, awkward greetings here and there but nothing close to a “how are you?” or “how was your day?” nothing.

you had been thinking about moving out as fast you can but didn't really find anything good right now. especially because your work was taking more and more free time away from you. which led you to just wanting to sleep instead of doing anything.

you noticed though how vanessa stayed out longer, even on her breaks. she was really not the one who would go out even. not to stay out more than two hours.

you guessed this whole thing had an effect on her too. right? at least she was regretting it. but oh, how you craved to talk to her really again. at least she used to be your best friend. your favorite person. and you were hers. it was true.

you didn't really know but she thought of you. a LOT. at work. at the bars when she tries to numb her feelings for you. in her car on her way to somewhere. even at home, when you two are basically only some meters away.

as much as she was thinking of you she realized how much you mean to her. and how much she loves you.

at first, she didn't want to accept it. it felt weird and new to her. she was never in love with a girl before.

she knew you were hurt, deeply. but she didn't know how to cheer you up right now. she never got comforted in her life at all, of course you did comfort her. but she didn't know how to comfort someone.

though, one night something changes. she puts every confidence in her and tries to talk to you.

she gently knocks on your door around 10pm on a Tuesday night. you are laying in your bed all comfortable, watching some shitty tv show while eating your favorite snack. you feel your heart beat a little bit faster as you climb out of the warm and make your way to the door.

“vanessa?”

she looks down, fidgeting with the bottom of her shirt. she is almost silent for a minute.

“i am… so sorry, (y/n).” she manages to speak up. almost crying.

you sigh and look down at your feet.

“i wanna make things right between us. after all… we were once best friend?”

you nod, yet you can't forget how she said ‘i wish you were a boy.’

“vanessa…” you whisper.

“i know i messed up. it was a lot. but please, give me a second chance,” you look up at her. she is already looking at you.

“i want to be friends again— i’m sorry… but i have no feelings for you.”

you can only nod at that. you should have expected this outcome. she could never be in love with another girl. yet, there were times where you hooked up. however… you both were really drunk.

vanessa exactly knew she was lying to herself but somehow she couldn't tell you how much she loves you. even, she didn't know why. maybe it was because she always wanted to be the perfect daughter for her terrible father. you heard her cries about him so many times, you couldn't even count on your two hands. deep down in her heart, she knew she will never be enough for him, yet you told her countless times that she doesn't have to be.

“i am not too sure, vanessa… i'm sorry.” you answer to her.

“after these past weeks of us ignoring each other..,” you don't really wanna bring up the thing she said because you know, you would break down. “both of us acted childish, but it's taking it's tool out on us now,” you look down. “and i want someone who doesn't only hookups with me when they're drunk.” you say the last part much more quietly.

she nods. she is unable to speak up. her stomach flips with every second. she prepared herself for the first really, but deep down she was never prepared enough for this.

“i understand you.” after some time she manages to talk.

you don't know what's going on inside you. your stomach is walking up and down in you and your heart is loud enough for the neighbors to hear it. you don't know if you wished for vanessa to be understanding or to fight for you.

she doesn't wanna push you past your limits. she doesn't wanna make you cry again.

the fact you craved to talk to her again like old times yet here you are saying you don't wanna get close to her again.

“well, i hope everything goes good for you.” she speaks up and gets you out of your thoughts. you can hear she is about to cry depending on seconds. you only nod.

“goodnight.” she says and turns around.

“you know…,” you starts she faces you. “it's better to talk about feelings then for them to drown.”

she nods in agreement. “yes, i know…” she hesitantly reponds. deep down you know that applies for you too, but wasn't that kiss enough to tell everything to her?

the next week you move out. you finally found a house that you can afford and it looks exactly like how you want it to. after that, you never talked to vanessa. in fact, you even started to slowly move on and start to search for love. not always thinking about needing a relationship but if you find the right person then you'll go for them.

for vanessa… well. she thought about you too much. she missed your presence in the house so much. your voice, your smiles, your laughter, your cooking. everything.

though, after two years or so, she found love. or maybe someone who would look after her when needed someone. a man, of course. vanessa never spoke about you. tried to not think of you after her marriage yet… almost every night she thought of you. the pictures of you on her phone, she often looked through them.

in the meantime you found love too! a really sweet girl. she was your whole world. your everything. you never really thought of vanessa. maybe some times. but this girl showed you colors no one has ever.

sometimes you fantasize about standing in front of vanessa and telling her everything you felt when you moved out and wanted to tell her, you told her so many times how she would end up in a loveless marriage if she doesn't speak about her feelings at least a little bit more often as time went on. at least to you. someone she used to call her best friend!

still, these were meaningless little fantasies you had maybe two monthly.

only if you knew.

#female reader #lesbian #elizabeth lail #vanessa shelly #lgbtq #five nights at freddy's #vanessa afton #vanessa shelly x reader #hurt/comfort #angst #no comfort #fluff #wlw post #strawberrykissesliaworks🪩

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jewishbarbies · 9 months ago

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So I debated for a long time whether to send this or not bc I explicitly do not want to equate what's happening in I/P to fiction or in any way trivialize the very real people who have died

But I find it incredibly ironic (in a bad way) how the leftist circles screaming about Zionism are the same circles that are STILL openly proudly fans of tv shows/books/movies that depict war in genuinely nuanced ways. Ways that EXPLICITLY contradict the black and white narratives exploding in leftist spaces.

So like. Did y'all miss the point or do you think nuance is for fiction only? There are innocent civilians on every side in war and civilians shouldn't be blamed for the actions of their governments --but only in fiction? In the real world it's fine to celebrate civilian casualties as long as they're Israeli? Guilt by association in fiction is bad but every Jewish person should be held accountable for the Israeli military???

Like I'm intentionally not naming any fandoms bc this SHOULDN'T be about fandoms, but the hypocrisy is killing me. They claim to be fans of the "killing civilians is bad even when they're from the Bad Culture™" shows but they're out in the real world denying (or worse celebrating) Oct 7th? They love the fictional characters who say "killing civilians is bad" but can't stand Jewish people mourning the civilians in israel? What???

(again, I'm really not trying to make this extremely real problem about fiction. I just mean the complete lack of self awareness I see every day has me ready to explode. )

no, i get what you mean. i definitely think there's a link between the massive drop in critical thinking and media literacy and the fandomization of real world issues. there's some statistic that gen z is the most politically active of most previous generations and while that's inherently a good thing, they're not engaging with politics and conflicts in responsible ways. they'll do a lot of organizing for a cause here in america and get something done, and then think they can do the same thing for international plights and just end up stepping on everyone's toes, inadvertently perpetuating that america-centric attitude they claim to be against, bc they don't listen.

a lot of people these days refuse to engage with media in the way it's intended and therefore ignore or flat out miss its entire message. you'll have a movie/show/book/whatever about the nuances of war, like the hunger games (which gen z is so completely misinterpreting), and how easy it is to become the person you're fighting against if you let yourself do the things they do eye for an eye style, and they'll come away from that comparing hamas to katniss. it makes no sense within the context of the book's narrative, yet that's the conclusion they draw because they refuse to properly engage. it contradicts their second-hand anger. they're mad about their own shitty life in the states and the powerlessness we all feel here as our rights are being threatened every single day, and they'll look for somewhere else to put it all. so they butt in to situations they don't belong in and make it worse like bulls in a china closet.

bottom line is that they see what they want to see because of their lack of self reflection and self awareness, thus allowing their lack of media literacy, critical thinking, and confirmation bias run the way they think and believe. they've taken "it's fiction" to the point where none of them would pass a basic english class and now palestinians and hamas are all blorbos in The Real World Show.

#Asks #anonymoose #antisemitism

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fuck-you-showerthoughts · 9 months ago

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hello, I apologize on the behalf of my fellow angry people in your inbox.

I'm also a little angry but I'm doing my best to put that aside because I'm trying to understand you. Please understand that I'm not trying to hurt you with this or anything. This comes from a place of genuine intrigue (while also kind of mad).

Why do you feel the need to define yourself using the transfem label? I get that you think of yourself as approaching femininity from a masculine start point. You said earlier that it's a different, new kind of femininity, like two different sodas. How? Why? From what I understand being a woman is not choosing a monolith out of a henge but instead just identifying with a group. Why are you getting out of the group only to return to a different part of the same group?

I know men and other bigender/multigender/etc people who started as men, fucked around with being a woman or nonbinary for a while and then either returned to masculinity or kept it as part of them. None that I know of insist of saying they're transmasc the way you do. [I have also seen afab people do the same thing, I'm not making this a birthgender thing, I just used this example somewhere else] I myself, during a period of my life "detransitioned" from transwoman to nonbinary and I did not consider myself transmasc for that.

My kneejerk reaction is of course "fuck you, get your effeminate hands off my special little word" [I'm making fun of myself] but after reading through everything you posted recently and thinking about shit I'm asking myself why. Why do they want the word?

possible answers include:

they just want it

internalized misogyny causing them to grow disillusioned with their previous identity as a woman but they still feel like one and wish to return to it under a new pretext

genuinely feels like they have disconnected entirely with womanhood while transistioning and wants to reconnect

I'm doing a shit job of summarizing my feelings on this, I apologize.

Also, why do you refer to yourself as a trans^4 multigenderqueer (hyperbole) but still have your pronouns listed as they/them.

off anon because I think people who hide behind it are cringe.

hello! thank you for such an excellent breakdown of your feelings, and for taking the time to think about your own emotions (completely sincerely, I had a similar journey like this a while ago and getting rid of first impressions is HARD). I think the main disconnect here is the idea of masculinity and femininity being separate (inherently and for me specifically) -- like i said in the answered ask before this, I'm already both a man and a woman, together, at the same time. This, for me, means that both of those aspects of me are trans simultaneously -- I use transfem while being afab because my femininity is trans. (The same would be true of my masculinity had I been amab)

I can't leave cisfemininity because I never belonged there in the first place, and I would never abandon being a girl altogether, so to me the obvious (and quite honestly only) conclusion is queer femininity (which naturally mtf trans women are an immediate part of). The bullet point explanation you've missed here is that I use transfem because it's simply the most accurate word I've found to describe my identity, and gender limiting things in 2024 of all times just doesn't make sense to me :]

(Also I have they/them because that's what I'm most comfortable being addressed as by *checks follower count* almost 20k people. I use different sets with different people -- but also sometimes expression is a lot simpler than identity haha)

#asks #mod talk

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maiafields · 3 months ago

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An Exploration of Femininity

There are a lot of preferences, ideas, and standards out there that we get told we should live up to.

We should better ourselves for others, become more attractive, and strive to be more beautiful, and intelligent, but not too beautiful or too intelligent.

Also don't be better than other people,

but make sure you hold yourself high, obviously not too high.

Be the "clean girl" the "it girl" "that girl" the "female manipulator" a “femcel" “the girl next door”.

There are so many boxes to fit into that don’t quite hug my curves.

It’s a balancing act to even hold yourself on your feet.

Articles about how to be more feminine, but in a way someone would want you to be, products to make yourself ‘better’ and erase the texture of your skin, pills and diets that are meant for genuine illnesses but if you have a crooked doctor they will make you a more desirable shape,

even though the shape you have has been passed down to you from generations.

We take in a lot of standards of what our lives ‘should’ look like from people we’ve never met before, and will most likely never meet.

We feel lost in ourselves when none of the boxes fit. When you are told that the shape you are in isn’t quite what they were looking for. Told you aren’t smart enough, fast enough,

strong enough, sexy enough. You start to feel like you are a culmination of all the things you aren’t until

you don’t quite know what you are.

So, who are you?

And, who you are, despite all of that?

“What does my femininity look like without all of this weight on my shoulder?”

“What could I be without this idea of feminine perfection?”

“Would I be happier to ignore all of these pressures and just carve out my own idea of femininity?”

I want wild and messy femininity. I want explorative femininity. I want it to look like anything i want it to be. It can be a staggering leather, lace, combat boot wearing, hardcore, truth shouting, sharp wit, intelligent mind, sun-loving, sand dancing, warmth to the touch, soft skin, thick thighs, unshaven, bombastic voice,

the clack of lightening across the sky,

a gentle lift of a chin. Your femininity can root itself into the earth to sway amongst the trees, it can be the scent of pine needles on the ocean's tongue.

It can be everything your mother taught you, everything someone said wasn’t worth it, it can be a home from which you can rest in and know that you will hold yourself when the world tells you you aren’t worth it.

Because you are.

And if you can’t feel that right now, know it's there. It’s somewhere in you. You belong here.

And one day you will be able to say, “I like me.

I like the curve of my lips.

I like the power behind my laugh.

I like the crease from my smile.

I deserve to be happy.

I’m lovely, and strong, and kind.”

And you will feel proud and this extraordinary feeling in your body, a sense of self love that prickle's your skin and lifts your chest. Maybe, you’re like me, and you’ll say it with a knot in your throat because you never thought that you would ever say anything like that to yourself

and mean it.

Because you don't have to be anything other than what you are right now, at this moment. Because what you are, who you are, is worth it. This is not a sentence for you to live out, it is an energy to be explored, nurtured, and loved wholeheartedly, because that is what you deserve.

And you do deserve it.

Don't condemn yourself to someone else's idea of what you should be.

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originemesis · 5 months ago

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@brokendreamscreation xxx

Aside from the blatant twitching and inability to move from his curled electric prison, Lucid deduces that the commanders of the exorcist army is in fact just fine. Whining and bitching about the situation, it is something the seraphim has since become accustomed to. If Adam did not, then he will have genuine reason to remain alarmed. The corners of his mouth remained turned down, lips parting to expel a breath. How should he go about this predicament? With them both currently in the Heaven Embassy, which is located in the center of the Pentagram, the closest place he could take Adam is none other than the place that belongs to his life long nemesis: Lucifer Morningstar’s palace. Lucid has since had a room offered to him to make his own, which he occasionally does stay the night there. Maybe if he took Adam there he won’t realize they’re in Luci’s house in his current state…But then he likely will have to shoo Lucifer off from barging in to assault the angel with mockery and laughter in his miserable state. And Lucid knows that entire situation will come down on his head with more than just wing beatings later. The short bodied angel slips his arms under the huge angel, scooping him up effortlessly as if he were nothing more than a sack of flour. The flea jumping sparks zap his own wings, making the angel flinch and promptly shake it off with a wing beat. “Right. Let’s get you somewhere to recover. The embassy has got to have a sleeping quarter around here somewhere, right? Like an employee sleeping place for long shifts?” Not exactly a hospital, but teleporting between Heaven and Hell could take a lot out on the average angel. So surely there’s some kind of nap setup down here, right? If not, well, there’s plenty of couches Lucid supposes. Only one way to find out. Bare feet lightly slap against the tile as he meanders the embassy with the First Man cradled in his arms.

Though his body seems out of order for the time being thanks to the incapacitating zap, his mouth works just fine, as Lucid would find out the more the larger angel carried on with clicking teeth and goose hisses filtered through them. "The actual nerve of this place- not coming equipped with portal neutralizers?? I mean yeah, I should be able to go around fucking holes in reality around this shithole just fine, but not some gooner with a literal taser! Like BRUH. Someone's getting a fat lawsuit, and his name starts with the same L he's gonna be taking up the ass-" Like an overly chatty budgie screeching its complaints whilst clinging carelessly to its cage bars, the first man, and unfortunately first ambassador to hell carries on to his not exactly captive audience, though the deal still remained between them...not that Adam could exactly summon up that contract now in his sizzling condition.

His loud and lingering complaints trail into a soft 'huphff' once his unwitting company peels him off the charred tiles and lifts the potato sack shape commonly afforded to human-blended archangels. His wings remain heavy and limp, grazing the floor grooves with frizzy tipped primaries until the seraphim clone could collect them underneath his current load. Wriggling and thrashing the other with his wings currently out of the question, he loses several restless squawks as the much smaller angel carries him a few steps through the embassy.

"Hey- hey, WHOA! Waiiiiihaittttt...you're so fucking going to drop me-mmpfh?!" His floundering remarks suddenly suffocate with the smushing of his face against the other's chest when he's suddenly tucked and hiked up into a more reassuring cradle. He goes quiet only until another adjustment frees his face again, but his panicked gaze from earlier is now a soured squint.

"How about don't waste my time looking, dude? This is a political playground, not exactly a hotel." The subtlest squirm indicates he's getting some feeling back, even if it's just the point between his neck and shoulder. "Might as well head to the break room. I could use a soda after being, y'know- electrocuted." Shouldn't be anyone still kicking around at this hour anyway... shouldn't be-

#//limp noodle man cant knock on wood #brokendreamscreation #pspspsps #verse ; // the REDACTED crusades

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toffeelemon · 1 year ago

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I don’t feel like our love is brand new. There must have been lovers, soulmates, before us, experiencing what we get to have. And it’s giving me comfort to imagine there will be many more like us to come. Our kind of love is the kind of love that makes this rotten world worth living in.

prince simon in madrid

a pilgrimage along the world that @prince-simon created 🥹

Simon’s neighbourhood, Chueca

“It’s actually the Queer Neighbourhood of Madrid, and coincidentally also where I live.” He lowered his voice as if to tell a secret, “It’s actually not a coincidence at all.” (chapter 2)

Casa de Campo (view from the Royal Palace lol oop)

Wilhelm didn’t even recognise himself. He didn’t think he’d ever looked that happy. And Simon… his eyes were closed and his curls were a mess and Wilhelm had never seen anyone more beautiful. (chapter 3)

El Retiro

Simon looked at Wilhelm much too adoringly for a statement this goofy. “The ducks are gay!” He yelled at Santiago and Paula, “Just so you know!” (chapter 9)

Palacio de Cristal

“Here’s a funny thought - bear with me, okay? But just imagine. Flowers. Everywhere, like on the ceiling, up the walls. Fairy lights scattered all through it. It would be so gorgeous as a- uh, like. For a wedding…” Realising where his train of thought had gotten him, Wilhelm fell quiet, looking at Simon with wide eyes. (chapter 9)

El Palacio Real de Madrid (more specifically the Throne Room lmfao)

Simon traced his fingers over the bruises on Wilhelm’s neck and in the opening of his dress shirt, humming contentedly. Wilhelm followed the movement in the mirror, and marvelled at how good they looked together, how well they fit together and how much Simon belonged right here – on the throne, with Wilhelm. He deserved the world and so much more. (chapter 12)

Museo Nacional del Prado

Around them, the other visitors kept moving, admiring the art on the walls, and for the moment Wilhelm felt infinite, imagining himself a painting, looked at and analysed hundreds of years from now. El Abrazo de los Príncipes.

Lo Spasimo, Raphael, 1515-1517

“Are we allowed to kiss in front of Jesus on his way to crucifixion or is that tasteless? Because I really want to kiss you right now, Simon.”

Las Meninas, Diego Velázquez, 1656

“He made me look at Velázquez in the painting and how he was looking back at the viewer, at me. I still remember the exact tone of his voice, how he was so certain when he told me that I had every right to be where I am. That I am the subject of this painting, the king being painted. All those tyrants, King Felipe and Emmanuel and all those that came in between, they are trapped in that mirror forever while I am here, alive, we’re here. Velázquez is looking at two queer princes, ready to paint us.” (chapter 13)

Casa Alberto

“So, tell me more about this special part of Madrileñan history.” He was slightly teasing but mostly actually curious.

Simon seemed all too eager to answer that question, and it hit Wilhelm how genuine Simon’s care for his city — his country — and its people was. It made him a little sad to know that a lot of people didn’t get to see that because they only focused on Simon being too gay or too Latino, or even just too carefree and enjoying life because he was young, to be their future king.

bonus content:

Iglesia de San Antonio de los Alemanes (where Simon goes to church)

“I think I need to go somewhere.”

“Oh?” Wilhelm said softly, “Right now?”

Simon hesitated before he nodded. “I need to- get some clarity? Or - I hope that I’ll get it there?” He whispered, voice shaky.

“Do you want to tell me where you’re going?”

“To- uh, to pray? I mean- to church? I don’t know if I’ll pray…” Simon’s voice was shaky, uncertainty shining in his eyes when he dared to look up at Wilhelm. (chapter 11)

#god i don’t think i have immerse myself into a fictional world so deeply before #this story lives and breathes #and i love what it has given me god to imagine when i read the first chapter i have not moved countries or gotten a cursed degree yet #he feels like a friend i held by the hand and walked through adventures together🥹#i really went to a particular restaurant and ordered particular dishes because i read about it in a book #and it was as magical as i imagined heheh #(including the snails sksksk)#prince simon i love you forever #prince simon au #prescribing everyone a reread Right Now!#give me attention and i’ll come back with extra pics of the food sksk #simon’s depression church is not mentioned in Text but this is canon source hehe #i’m not the first person to visit pscu locations and i love everyone who’s done it what a great idea it was so fun!#yes i know you’re not supposed to take photos in the prado but then i remembered this was built by a colonial powerhouse then felt less bad

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jennay · 1 year ago

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Back Stage

Master List

AN: I hope this is what you were looking for! it's 5am and I tried my best! 😂 feel free to let me know whatchya think.

"Action." The director yells on set.

You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the poster-covered walls, wondering what it would be like to be free from this drama. You wanted to run away and never look back. "Fuck." You groan as you lay back on your bed and take in the events of what just happened. Your half-sister, Andrea's words, rot in your mind. "You should just go home and be with your mom. Nobody wants you to be here."

Part of you wondered if she was angry because she toyed with the neighbor's feelings, and you told him how dumb you thought he was for letting her drag him along. Maybe you should go home. You only came in fear that your father wouldn't pull through his illness. You didn't belong here, though; you knew it. This town wasn't meant for you. These people drove you crazy, and your heart wanted to be somewhere it didn't belong.

Knocking on your door distracts you from your thoughts, and you groan with frustration. "What?" You yell.

"Can I come in?" Scott quietly speaks.

The moment Rory walks in, you feel nervous. You'd seen him around and ran lines at the round table, but this was your first time doing an actual scene with him. The two of you hardly talked; you weren't even sure he knew your name.

It felt weird, you were supposed to be angry, but somehow as soon as he entered the room, you didn't want to yell and scream at him. You wanted to be soft and gentle. You nearly forget your line as he stares at you with piercing eyes. "Are you going somewhere?" He asks, looking at your backpack.

Sometimes it felt like Rory was his character, and it piqued your curiosity. You wondered if he was indeed this awkward timid character in real life.

You shrug your shoulders, "I don't belong here." You admit with sadness in your voice. You force tears in your eyes, "I don't think I belong anywhere."

Rory tries to open his mouth but is interrupted by the director, "CUT!" He yells.

Your shoulders relax, and you feel the pressure lift.

"How do you make yourself cry like that? I thought you felt that way, like in real life." He quietly says.

You stand up from the set bed and follow him as he walks towards the bench, and the two of you await your next instructions. "Sometimes I do feel that way." Why are you admitting that?

Rory pushes his layered brown hair behind his ears. "You seem to belong here." He sheepishly speaks, wanting you to feel better. "I mean, I think your pretty cool."

You smile at Rory's compliment, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. You've always admired his acting skills and his kind personality. "Thanks, Rory. You're pretty cool too." You say, hoping he doesn't notice your blush. "And I do belong here. This is my dream, you know. To be an actress. I know I'm seventeen, but I know what I want." You look around the set and feel a rush of excitement. "How about you? How do you make yourself cry 'cause you have to do it a lot." You laugh.

Rory shrugs, looking a bit embarrassed. "I don't know, really. I just think of something sad and imagine how it would feel. Sometimes I do feel that way." He admits, lowering his voice. "Like in real life." He meets your eyes, and you see a hint of vulnerability. You wonder what he's been through, what makes him sad. You feel a sudden urge to hug, comfort, and tell him everything will be okay. But before you can act on it, the director calls for you to resume filming. You and Rory get up from the bench and head back to the bedroom, ready to play your roles again.

Before the camera roles, he says, "You'll be okay, I promise."

The warmth of his smile makes you feel relaxed and safe; you genuinely feel like he’s being honest, and he will be looking out for you from here on out.

#rory culkin #rory culkin x you #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin fanfic

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k-s-morgan · 1 year ago

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Hey, I hope you are doing okay! Reading TGSTLTH is honestly a religion for me now, it is an amazing story.

I particularly like your interpretation of Sebastian being a social outcast in hell, it really fits the canon. In the Jack the Ripper Arc, where Will and Sebastian first encounter each other, Will asks "Why would a beast like yourself want to dress up as a butler?" Or something among the lines of that. And it goes to show how out of character Sebastian is among his kind.

That being said, I have this theory that demons do not usually take an active role in their contracts, they are usually sitting on the sidelines using magic to solve problems and whatnot. I only think this because of the Reapers and Angela's reaction to Sebastian's role in his and Ciels contract. Every other supernatural being seems to not understand why Sebastian is demeaning himself by presenting himself as a human butler and serving Ciel directly. From what you've said about demons, they quickly fulfill their master's wish and don't spend time pretending to be a human, especially not in a lowly position as a butler.

I was wondering what you think on this subject, is Sebastian one of the only demons to serve their masters as a human? Did Sebastian ever have such an active role before, where he changed his form for his master?

Thx ❤️ xoxo

Hi! Thank you so much for your wonderful, encouraging words!

I always felt that Sebastian has a contradictory status in Hell. On the one hand, he's obviously strong, and demons like Claude and Hannah seem to respect him (in a twisted way). He holds himself with a lot of pride and dignity, he's confident and self-assured. But on the other hand, he's so greedy for praise. He basks in it, he loves attention, and he genuinely enjoys the concept of being admired. This, plus the comments everyone else makes got me thinking that Sebastian is a weirdo who doesn't feel like he belongs in his world, with his fellow demons. He might have their respect but not their true admiration and regard, so he compensates for it by showing off in front of humans, most of whom are more authentically responsive to it. That's one of the reasons why earning Ciel's regard is so important to him: Ciel is extremely hard to please now, but when it happens, his stiff acknowledgement means the world. Sebastian lives for it now, even if he's not fully aware of the extent of it yet.

And yes, I also think that other demons seek to end their contracts as soon as possible. They prey on humans who make easy wishes, fulfil them through magic and then eat them, often in one day. Sebastian is different as he enjoys a challenge. Like he himself said, he got tired of mindless eating. In BoA, he thinks how annoying it might be to serve Ciel but how he can wait even if it takes a lifetime because it should pass quickly enough for him. Granted, he doesn't look all that eager, but it shows that he was willing to spend a lot of time cultivating a perfect soul for a meal. This amazes all other supernatural creatures who come in contact with him. The fact that Sebastian not only serves Ciel long-term but is clearly going above and beyond the contract is even more confusing to demons.

I imagine Sebastian had a few lengthy contracts before, but I don't think they lasted for more than a couple of years, and they signified only extremely interesting cases. We know how easily Sebastian gets bored - he tried to eat Ciel just months into their contract, so I doubt the situation was different with others. I'll probably flesh this all out in future chapters.

And yes, I'm sure other demons choose contracts that don't require them to actually be servants. Like, making someone rich, accompanying someone somewhere, getting them stuff, etc.

#my fics #black butler #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #sebaciel

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sanajeh1909 · 1 year ago

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Pairing : Chamber x F!Reader

Word Count : 8213

Warnings: Violence (mentions of guns, stabbing and killing people)

POV : 3rd person

One Shot

A/N : Sorry for my poor English, its not my native language. Chamber can be a bit OOC. I had hard time to express reader and focused on Chamber more than reader itself. Gif doesnt belong to me. I need to improve my writing skills. I hope yall like it.

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧ Dangerous Desires

You have joined Valorant Protocol by request of your friend : Fade. You have grown up in a place that war almost never ends. The constant exposure to death and bloodshed shaped you into a cold and hardened individual, one who viewed killing as a means of survival rather than an act of malice. After the first light, your life became a warzone. Killing people to survive has become normal to you. But all the killing and murdering didnt fade the playful attitude of yours, especially when it came to death. When your friend offered you to Protocol, you thought its time for your life to calm down a bit. You enter the room of the HQ where all the agents are there chatting with each other.

Looking around, you want to make new friends and find someone who can relax with you in somewhere quiet. You see a man who is well dressed, of course your eyes catches his figure.

He notices you admiring his physique. He is built like a mannequin, with a perfectly fitted suit. He looks over and flashes a smile that is charming, yet slightly sinister.

*”Bonjour, Mademoiselle.”*

*”Bonjour.”* You extend your hand for a handshake. But instead, he takes your hand and kisses it. Its soft against his lips. Then, he releases your hand.

*”Charming and well educated. I like that.”*

You smile at him. There is something behind it, but he doesnt seem to realize the mischief under your smile.

*”Would you like to accompany me to somewhere quiet and relaxing?”* You ask. He doesnt know what is going to happen if he accepts, yet...

*”That sounds delightful.”* He offers you his arm. *”If madame would be willing to accompany a gentleman.”*

You chuckle softly, he is unaware of the scheme you are planning. *”I would gladly accompany a gentleman like you. However, im not married. No need to call me ‘madame’”*

You accept his arm and gesture the way to parking lot. You two began walking.

*”Madame is a figure of speech.”* His French accent makes him more attractive than he already is. You two reach the parking lot and you gesture your car, unlocking the doors. He gets inside the car and admires the interior of the car, admires its luxury.

*”Very nice!”* He turns to you. *”Where are we going?”*

You, on driving seat, turn to him and smile softly* *”I would like to keep it as surprise if you allow me.”*

*”Surprise me, then.”* He says, crossing his arms, smirking. *”Oh, by the way. The way you speak is divine. I love the sound of a French accent.”*

You smile, feeling the pride grow in your chest. *”Merci, although im not fluent in French, i give my best to speak perfectly.”* You start driving inside forest, end of the road is the surprise place. Its dark, nothing can be seen except the road that car lights making bright.

He looks out the window, then gives you a curious glance. Your French is perfect, why does he get the distinct feeling of you are not a native speaker? He leans back in his seat, eyes on you as you drive for several minutes without a wrod spoken. The car is quiet. The surroundings a quiet hum. He waits for you to speak, his eyes are on you.

You feel his gaze on you and you break the silence. *”I get the feeling that you may thinking im French perhaps by the way im talking. No, im not French or native speaker of French.”* You drive, its quiet again. The eeire air is hanging on.

He tilts his head in curiosity. For a woman who isnt a native speaker of French, you are perfect. He is genuinely curious, now. Not only is your accent perfect, but your grasp of the language is incredible. He leans back in his seat again, letting you drive. *”So, i have to ask. Where did you learn to speak such beautiful French? You must’ve had many teachers, i assume.”*

You laugh softly, you cut your laugh short. *”I must admit you are wrong. I have learned French by myself, speaking with natives has improved my accent.”*

He raises an eyebrow, leaning forward in his seat. He is incredulous now, but he doesn’t show it. *”Really? Impressive. Most people i know arent that good, not even native speakers of the language. Did you always have a penchant for languages or just for French in particular?”* He glances at you and flashes another charming smile.

You let out a deep chuckle. *”You have caught me, Monsieur. I have a liking of languages, fourteen, in total.”* You smile in amusement, still driving. Its quiet and dark place to drive at night.

*”Fourteen?”* He repeats. *”I barely know three!”* He chuckles and shakes his head.

Why fourteen? Do you have an academic or professional interest in learning them, or do you just have a personal goal to learn them all?

You feel what he is thinking. You break the silence. *”I see you have doubts in you, you can ask me your questions, Monsieur.”*

He laughs. He knows he is being teased. He looks out the window, eyeing the dark forest around him. Then looks back at you. *”Tell me why you know fourteen languages. Im interested in your motivation, you see.”*

*”I have a strong liking of languages, you may call it fetish.”* You speak with amusement in your tone. Its been 10 minutes of driving.

He tilts his head at your word choice. *”A fetish. Well, now i think i must ask the question, then. Which language is your favorite and why?”*

You smile and sigh before speaking. *”Its hard to choose in between, actually. A lot of languages to choose one.”* You park the car and stop the engines. You turn your head to look at him, you flasha smirk. *”Shall we go out to see the beauty of the world, Monsieur?”*

*”You are not making it easy for me, you know?”* He chuckles. But yes, he gives you a look of excitement in his eyes. Whatever you have planned, he likes it. *”Let’s see where you’ve brought me.”* He gets out of the car.

You smile and get out of the car as well. You walk towards him and you lead the way. When you both reach the sands, you sit on a bench and take off your heels. You put your heels next to bench. *”Do you like beaches?”*

*”Oh, madame, i adore the beach.”* He sits down beside you and takes off his shoes without hesitation. The sand is warm and soft. *”Nothing like the feel of the sand and the sea. This is beautiful.”*

*”Yes it is. Would you like to walk inside the sea, or should we sit here?”* Your tone of voice is soft, almost soothing.

He shrugs. Its entirely up to you. He turns his head to look at you. *”I’ll do whatever madame desires. You are very beautiful, you know that?”*

You chuckle softly at his words. *”You are complimenting me.”* You get up from the bench and you look at him. *”Shall we go?”*

*”I am. Why wouldn’t i?”* He stands up and starts walking towards the sea. He turns around, looking back at you. *”Coming, madame?”*

You follow him and start getting inside the water, enough to feel the soft waves on your ankles. *”Isn’t it soothing?”* You smile and you turn to catch his gaze.

He follows you into the water. The salty water tickles his toes. Its soothing, the calm waves in the shallow water. He looks down, kicking up sand, and back at you. *”It’s soothing, yes”* He smiles, but the expression is disingenuous. His eyes are studying you. That soft gaze that was there has gone, replaced by a look of cold precision. He doesnt look away, either. He is judging you, studying you. His eyes dont move.

You realize his judging eyes. *”May i ask what’s making you uncomfortable, Monsieur?”*

He chuckles, his tone slightly mocking. “*Oh, dont assume anything. Im merely trying to gauge whether or not you are a friendly individual, so far without luck.”* He flashes you another, more genuine smile. *”Or perhaps, you are not comfortable with me, madame. That is why i am here, though. To make you comfortable.”*

His tone when he refers you as madame doesnt sound genuine. *”If i wasnt comfortable, i wouldnt have asked for your companionship. If you are having troubles of trusting me, take your time.”* You smile but it doesnt reach your eyes.

You notice the difference in his voice. That mocking tone in that one phrase alone seems to be a break in chaarcter. He looks down, then back up at you. He tries to match your smile, but he cant do it for long before it drops. He loooks at a nearby sandcastle, then looks away. You are right. He doesnt trust you. He tries to change the subject. *”Tell me about yourself. Why are you on the beach so late?”*

You smile. This time it reaches your eyes even though its small smile. *”I always come to beach at this hour. Today’s honorable guest is you. If you wish to leave, i can give you the keys of my car for you to go back. But im afraid that you might get lost on the road though.”*

His face twists into a confused look. *”Honorable... guest? What do you mean?”* He is standing up in the water, the water just below his knees. He stares down at you, not breaking the eye contact. No matter what you do, he is looking at you with his piercing amber eyes.

A small, genuine smile on your face, your tone of voice is soft. There is something dangerous inside you. *”I dont have any intention of hurting or killing you, unless you ask me to do so.”*

Was this a threat? Were you threatening him? It didnt sound like you do but... the desolate beach, eerie air of the night makes it harder to not be on alert.

His face hardens. He takes a small step closer to you, looking down at you. He doesnt break eye contact. he speaks softly, his voice is low and harsh. There is no emotion in his eyes or his face. *”Would you like to kill me, madame?”*

*”If its your wish, i can. Though my heart doesnt want to point a gun at a gentleman like you.”* Smiling, you catch his eyes on yours. Your gaze is piercing, yet there is something soft in it. Is it because you really mean your words?

His face is blank. It is emotionless. cold and calculating, yet he still holds you in his gaze. He takes a half step clloser to you. His eyes are studying yours, studying your soul. *”You would kill a man without a reason?”*

Your smile remains, your gaze is piercing his soul. But there is something broken in it yet hard to catch it. Were you in this situation before? *”If its their wish to die, i have nothing to object, do i?”*

The coldness in his eyes fade into confusion as you speak. *”What is wrong with you? How could you do that to someone? Do you not have a sense of morality, or do you just have the heart of a murderer?”* He crosses his arms, scowling. *”Tell me: do you want to kill me?”*

Your smile widens coldly. *Arent we all murderer, in Protocol? And no, i have no intention of killing you. Unless you are begging to get killed, Monsieur.”* The way you phrased ‘Monsieur’ was cold, insincere.

He is taken aback for a second. You have a point, but not everyone within the Protocol kills on a whim. he shakes his head, then shrugs it off. He flashes a smile, a bright, charming smile. *”Are you sure that you arent looking to kill me? I would be lying if i said that i was convinced.”*

Your smile gets warmer yet there is still hints of coldness in it. *”Say then, would you kill me, here and now? I know you have a gun on you. Dont you want to point at a woman who is talking about killing someone mercilessly?”* Your smile gets wider and grows colder. You are scheming something dangerous for sure.

His face is serious, deadpan. He pulls his gun from his waist. *”I could.”* He doesnt make a move to point his gun at you. He just holds it loosely behing his back. *”Its something that i am capable of.”* He looks around the beach, scanning it for any potential witnesses. The beach is desolate, no one is there except you and him. *”Are you willing to die here, madame?”*

You slowly reach your thigh and pull your gun from its holster that was there. A ghost you are holding on your hand yet its not pointed at him. *”Are you willing to die here, Monsieur?”* You smile coldly, no emotion in your voice, your tone is sendind shivers down his spine.

That was wrong thing to do. He is standing up in the water, staring at you. His face is deadpan. His hand grips the gun tighter. *”This is your final chance to run, madame. Are you sure you want to do this?”* He is still speaking softly, his tone is cold and emotionless. There is a sense of confidence behind his voice that should scare anyone. He isnt afraid of you. He doesnt even seem fazed by your gun. That is far more concerning.

Your smile gets warm. Maybe because you know you will die there? *”Do, point your gun at me, if you wish to die.”* You speak softly. What are you planning to do?

He smiles at your invitation. He raises his gun to point at you, without any hesitation. His finger rests over the trigger, ready to fire. His tone is cold, emotionless. ***You have three seconds.***

You slowly raise your gun and point at him, there is smile plastered on your face. *”Are you really willing to kill someone innocent?”*

He doesnt move. You could almost see the cogs turning in his mind, processing the morality of what he was about to do. His mind seems to have made up its mind, because his gun is pointed directly at your head. His eyes are cold, emotionless, piercing your soul. His finger is on the trigger. He is about to do it. ***You have two seconds. Make the second count.***

You suddenly click and unlock the magazine of the gun, dropping it on water. Empty gun is staying on your hand pointed at him. Your smile turns into cold smirk. Your intention were not killing him. But why did you plan this? What was your aim with this?

He is caught off guard. He lowers his gun, but not out of fear. More as a gesture of surprise than anything. He looks as though he would like to laugh, but he doesnt. *”So you have given me my life back, madame.”* He lowers his gun, setting it loose behind his back. He is still studying you with those piercing amber eyes. *”Why would you do that? Why give up your only weapon?”*

You lower your gun, the empty gun resting on your hand. You smile at him as you speak. *”My aim was never killing you.”*

He raises his eyebrows, looking down at you. *”Then why bring gun at all?”* For a moment, he looks slightly annoyed, like you had just wasted his time. Then, he shakes it off. *”But, you could have killed me, you know that, right?”*

*”You ask me why i bring my gun, yet you carr on you. Isnt it a bit rude? I could, but it would be pointless to kill you. I have nothing to gain from your death.”* You turn slowly and start taking small steps on water.

He laughs. His laugh comes from deep in his soul, filled with cold amusement. He looks at you, standing up in the water and crossing his arms. He is grinning now. the coldness and calculation has left his eyes. What you see now is a man ***loving*** this situation. He is the happiest he’s been in weeks, maybe months. He turns to face you, smiling widely. *”Oh, you are good.”*

*”I am, indeed. At least i can take it that you are trusting me now. No, Monsieur?”* You say with a smile on my face, your tone of voice is playful yet sincere.

He laughs again. His voice is warm and charismatic, like you would expect. You have certainly earned back the trust. *“I am trusting you, madame.”* He takes a few steps closer to you. He looks down at your feet, then looks back up at you with another wide smile. *”Let’s make a deal. We walk along this beach together, not speaking a word to each other, just looking. We both keep our guns holstered, no killing. How does that sound?”*

You laugh softly. His words amused you, not in negative way. You are intrigued by his actions. Is he always like this? *”Deal, then.”*

He holds out his hand to you, smirking. *”A pleasure doing business with you, madame.”* He looks down at you, staring at your face. There is a soft smile on his face, like that of a smug and satisfied cat. He waits for you to reply.

You accept his hand for handshake. Your smile grows warmer. Maybe he isnt that bad?

He shakes your hand and lets go, then smiles. He turns around and starts walking with you by his side in water, his arms crossed on his chest. He looks out at the dark sea, into the woods, around the beach. The sun has set long time ago, the moon shining above. Beach is deserted long time ago. He slows his pace. *”There is something beautiful about the quiet, dont you think?”* He shrugs. *”You can hear the wind, the waves... its like music.”*

You smile at his words, you chuckle softly. It was good to rest your soul once in a while like this. Away from the war you used to be in. *“Right, its always calming...”* You walk at the same pace as his, walking next to him. Your hands are next to you to balance yourself as you walk in water.

This is a very different version from the one you would just met. His warm smile is inviting, like he could be talking about anything with you. It is not the face of the cold hearted hitman you had just spoken to. He looks around as you are walking, studying the beach. He takes a small step forward, making eye contact with you. There is a mischievious glint in his eye. Does he look like the kind of man who will get the best of you?

He pauses, his brow raises as he looks at you. *”Would you like to play a game? We are both bored out here after all.”* He grins, but the corner of his eyes are dark. This man, who had just wanted to kill you, has sense of glee about him. *”Are you good gambler? Do you trust your luck?”* He sounds sincere, but he looks as though he is planning something. His smirk is slightly sinister.

You raise an eyebrow, confused by his invite but amused. *”Are you inviting me to Russian roulette?”*

He bursts out laughing, covering his mouth and shaking his head. When he speaks again, he sounds like he is holding back his laughter. *”No, im not a murderer... I was thinking of poker?”* He asks, grinning at you. *”Unless, you want to play a game that gives you a chance to kill me...”* He adds jokingly.

You shake your head, not approving what he said but you speak slightly playful even though you mean your words. *”If you really have deathwish by my hands, we can. But i dont have ammo with me now.”* Your lips curls into small smile as you speak. *”Poker, you say? I dont like gambling actually.”* You pause for a second and add jokingly. *”But we can play Russian routlette with your gun.”*

*”How about a bet, then?”* He looks at you, his amber eyes piercing you to your soul. When you dont respond, he takes a step closer to you. He crosses his arms and looks down at you as he speaks. *”You are so lucky, you know that? For some reason, i let you live back there. You should appreciate that. You got away with your life, free of charge.”* He nods at you. *”But i will not be so merciful the next time.”*

You laugh at his words. It seems like you didnt really take his words so serious. Your laugh and your tone of voice is almost teasing. *”Je suis désolé, Monsieur. I will be careful next time.”*

His smile gets even bigger, the corner of his eyes turning a darker shade of amber. He cant control his smirk any longer, and he begins to laugh again, the sound of which rings out into the silent sea. As he laugh, he closes his eyes.

The silence of the beach feels deafening. The waves lap up against the beach hits both of your legs, the wind whistles and sighs. He breaks the eye contact with you, still laughing. *”You have a strange way of showing appreciation, dont you?”*

You give him side eye with smile, not judging but enjoying the conversation with him. *”I would like to say ‘im not like other women’ but the sentence is already corny.”* You wait for his reaction after speaking.

There is still a wide smile on his face. He turns to face full towards you. You both face to each other as both of you stopped walking. His laughter dying down. *”You are unlike any woman i have ever met”* He grins at you. *”You remind me of someone.”* His smirk turns into half grin. He looks at you, studying your face. *”Who, i wonder.”* He mutters.

You turn your face slightly, your gaze doesnt leaves his face. *”I wonder who might it be?”*

His smile gets even wider. Its almost unnerving. His eyes are focused on you, watching your every little reaction to try and understand what you are thinking. His head tilts to the side, a look of intrgue on his face. *”I have a suspicion.”* He says, his tone is serious now. *”There is something very familiar about you... I cant put my finger on it yet.”* He chuckles.

*”Even after not shooting, still suspicious i see”* You raise your hands to shoulder height as if surrendering. *”You can search for any weapon, you wont find anything except an empty gun and butterfly knife.”* You squint your eyes for a brief second.

He smirks again. He takes a few steps towards you, studying you with his piercing eyes. He chuckles, then raises his hands in the air in surrender. *”Very well. You have earned my trust. For now.”* He lowers his arms to his sides, still smiling. *”For now.”*

You lower your hands at his response. Your lips curls into sly smirk. *”For now doesnt sounds convincing.”*

*” What would you like my wording to be?”* He raises an eyebrow. *”Do you want me to bow down before you and pledge my loyalty as your humble servant?”*

You roll your eyes at his words, his behavior is amusing to you. *”No, i will know when to trust you.”* You smirk at him teasingly, your tone is playful. You enjoy the conversation way too much than you expected.

He chuckles darkly, rolling his eyes. *”You are a very tricky woman, you know that?”* He grins, crossing his arms. A voice in his head tells him that there is something suspicious, that you know something. He dismisses it, shaking his head. *”You are also quite entertaining. I like that.”* He steps closer to you. *”Are you always this fun, or only when you almost get yourself shot?”*

You laugh with deep voice. How you have developed yourself to enjoy to be on verge of the death always excited you because of your past. But how he pointed at it was funny. *”If you would like to see if im funny or not, then why dont you try and see? I am always funny. I dont look like i take anything serious though.”*

His grin gets bigger. *”You know, i might just do that.”* He looks aruond the beach. Its dark, pale lights of the beach lighting the sands up. The woods are indistinguishable behind the lights. He turns back at you. He steps clsoe, and he is now only a few steps away from you, close enough to lean down and speak in your ear. *”What would you do if i were to kiss you?”*

You smirk but it shows how displeased are you from his words. *”I dont like the idea. I might stab you and see if you are still funny, maybe, no?”* You tease him with his words.

He smiles a little wider. *”You are not like other women, are you?”* His tone suddenly becomes serious, his amber eyes piercing your soul. *”I would like to get to know you. The real you.”* He looks down at you; there is a hunger in his eyes. His face, once warm and charming has turned cold once more. *”Is there a chance i might earn your trust?”* He steps even closer to you, his lips almost touching now. *”What say?”* He whispers quietly.

You slowly put your hand on his chest and gently push him back. Your face is smiling but you are not pleased this little conversation. *”I will decide when to trust you. It was remarkable that you didnt shoot me when i dropped the magazine of the gun, yet you were ready to shoot any second.”* You squint your eyes slightly and widening it. *”How am i gonna trust someone who did it?”* Your tone of voice sounds slightly playful yet serious. You mean every word on your last sentence.

His grin disappears, and he narrows his eyes. His voice grows stern, and you feel a cold presence coming off of him. *”And how are you going to earn my trust?”* He leans in close to you, staring directly into your eyes. His amber eyes are cold and calculating again. Its obvioux that that question did not sit well with him. His mood seems to have shifted again. *”Your weapon was still pointed at me.”* He takes in deep breath. *”Is there something about you I'd rather not know?”*

You speak calmly with a smile on your face. *”I had a chance to shoot, yet i dropped the ammo. Would you preferred me to shoot you there?”* Your smile widens and you let out a small chuckle. *”I will earn your trust, maybe. Time will show that.”*

He smirks. *”Maybe. Time will tell, wont it?”* He crosses his arms, leaning down as he speaks. His amber eyes narrowed as they gaze into yours. There is a subtle hunger in his eyes, a fire behind them. Like he wants something from you, something he is not telling you he wants. *”You have me intrigued.”* He grins. There is a sly, almost mischievious look about him. *”Tell me more about yourself. You must have plenty to tell... Im listening.”*

You pause for a brief moment. *”Lets make a deal, then. We both tell more about each other. It would be unfair to leave other person illiterate, no?”*

*”Im inclined to agree.”* He smiles, a smirk on his face. He reaches out a hand for you to shake. You can tell he is serious about the deal. *”Lets make a deal, then. A truce, i suppose.”*

You shake his hand firmly. You may gain more of him, maybe? *”Deal.”*

He shakes your hand firmly, too. There is warmth in his eyes and his demeanor. *”Very well. I will tell you everything i can about myself. And you will, in turn, tell me everything you can. Is that satisfactory?”* He crosses his arms, looking at you curiously. There is a sparkle in his eyes. *”Where would you like to start?”*

*”Yes, it will satisfy me. Im starting then. Im 20 years old, and you?”* You smirk. It will be entertaining to learn more about him. You didnt think he would be willing to talk about himself, so you were prepared to get what you want by force.

He smiles. *”I am 28. What are your passions? I like weapons, as you have seen. What do you like?”* Another smile; his lips curls into a smirk.

*”Killing people?*” You speak jokingly and laugh loudly. *”Languages, as i said in the car. My turn then. Im 1.64 meters tall, you?”*

He grins. *”Killing people is one of my passions, but you already knew that.”*

The look in his eyes is cold again, like he couldnt have been the one to jokingly joke with you moments ago. *”We may be of the same passions, however.”* He smirks, his voice deep and cold. He looks up slightly, thinking. *”Im 1.79 meters.”* He smirks. He looks back at you with a charming grin. *”Do you like reading?”*

*”Yes, i do. Horror or thriller novels are my favorite genres. What about you?”* You are showing new side of you to him: playful and charming. And you see new side of him too. It feels like he is more comfortable with you than before.

*”Im more of a non-fiction person”* He pauses. *”I have always been more interested in reality. Learning as much as i can about my foes. Learning their vulnerabilities, their fears, their weaknesses, their pasts, their traumas, their hopes... You know. The things that might make them break and lose.”* He flshes a quick, genuine smile. *”If they break, it makes my job all the easier.”*

*”Breaking mentality is good tactic, but what would you do if it doesnt break?”* You smile. Its quite disturbing smile. *”Someone might not be scared even when you point a gun at their head.”*

He raises his eyebrows and looks at you, a sly smirk on his face. *”I never had a situation like that happen to me yet. But if someone is not afraid of me, then i know one thing: they are either the bravest person i will ever meet, or they have nothing left to lose.”* His tone is serious again. *”Which one are you?”*

*”What if i am...”* You pause for a moment, leaning towards him slightly. *”...both?”*

He leans towards you as well. His voice is calm, his eyes still cold and calculating. *”Are you both?”* He tilts his head, his amber eyes piercing yours. A voice in his head tells him that something doesnt add up. He shakes it away, ignoring it. *”If you are both, it just makes my job all the more entertaining.”*

You smile, your eyes also smiles with your lips. Your eyes sparkles with excitement. *”Since we are allies, we have nothing to hold anything against each other. Dont you agree?”*

His smirk grows slightly. *”Allies, are we? I suppose so, yes. I like your reasoning.”* He smirks again. *“Its a lot more fun this way, is it not?”* He asks, a playful tone in his voice.

*”It is indeed.”* You pause for a moment. *”I have dropped the formal title. It will be better to get used to each other. Unless you want me to call you Monsieur?”*

*”No, no! You may call me by my name, Vincent!”* He flashes a smile. He seems to think again for a moment, then nods. *”I guess we are allies. Lets make a deal; you tell me your weaknesses and I'll do the same. Does that sound like a fair deal?”* He leans in a little closer to you again, his face is a few inches away now. His voice is warm and charming. He looks to you, looking up and down and he seems to be analyzing you.

*”Vincent, a good, charming name. Sanajeh, you can call me by my name too. Lets make everything balanced.”* You give him warm and charming smile. *”Weakness?”* You raise an eyebrow. *”Are you willing to leave yourself vulnerable around me now?*” You smirk teasingly.

He smirks. *”Well, i suppose that is only fair.”* He shrugs. *”If we are to become allies, i suppose we really ought to know everything there is to know about each other, should we not?”* He gives a slight chuckle. *”Im willing to play by your rules. But i expect you to play by mine”* He gestures between the two of you. *”So shall we begin?”* He smiles, tilting his head.

You smile, amused by hiss game. You enjoy his game yet something feels off. You shrug it off. *”Turn is yours.”

*”Very well. I’ll start off with a simple one.”* He laughs. *”Im claustrophobic.”* He chuckles. *”Your turn.”* His eyes sparkle mschieviously as he waits for your response.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his answer. *”I have never thought you might be claustrphobic, you seem like you dont have any weaknesses.”*

He leans in again, almost invading your personal space at this point. *”Nobody is flawless, my dear.”* He whispers quietly in your ear. His voice is slightly silky as his eyes bore into yours. His eyes sparkle like they have been sprinkled with little diamonds. *”Does it excite you to know that someone like me has flaws?”* His breath is hot on your neck. You see him almost lean in further, his lips inches away from your neck. His eyes are fixed on yours and his face inches away from yours.

Your hand goes over your thigh, next to your gun where your knife is resting. You are ready to slip your knife out and stab him if he dares to move one more inches. Why arent you doing it now?

He notices your hand. He smirks again, a sly look on his face. He leans closer, his lips almost touching your neck. You feel his breath on your skin. You feel a shiver going down your spine as his breath brushes your skin. Is he going to kiss you? He doesnt make a move. Suddenly, he pulls away and chuckles. *”You think I'd do it again, dont you?”* His smile broadens.

You are annoyed, feeling like he played with you like a toy and left you on the floor. Your hand still rests on your knife. *”Its not nice of you to play around with someone.”*

His warm smile instantly vanishes into thin air. His face turns cold. He looks at you with steely eyes, his face blank, as if he felt no emotion at all. *”I was showing you what happens when you let your guard down. Your weaknesses show. You could have been hurt.”* He mutters, his voice quiet and cold. *”But instead you just got your feelings hurt.”* He seems to be angry about something. His fists are tightly clenched and his face is scowling.

You are annoyed by his words and behavior. *”Im willing to take action to protect myself.”* Your grip on the knife gets tighter yet you still didint pull it off from its place.

He scoffs. *”Yes, you were ready to stab me with your little knife, werent you?”* He looks at the knife that rests on your thigh. *”Would your little knife stop a bullet?”* He gives a laugh and shakes his head. His smirk is gone. The look on his face is furious as he glares at you. *”No. It wouldnt.”*

*”Your gun is still in its holster. I would have stabbed you before you pull it out. *”You turn your face slightly, your gaze is still on him. You scoff, its visible you are irritated.

He looks into your eyes and stares at you. *”Then why didnt you?”* His voice is cold. You dont answer and just stare at him in irritation. He looks away from you for a few seconds, then looks back at you, a smirk on his face again. *”You see, dear, you were not expecting me to make such a move. It caught you off-guard.”* He laughs. *”My gun may be in its holster, but you were not expecting me to do that.”* He smirks, his voice becoming slightly mocking.

You are irritated, a lot. You change the subject. *”Dont you have anything to do in HQ? You came all along with me here.”* You turn your gaze, you start to take small steps inside the water, walking slowly.

He shakes his head. *”Not at all.”* He shrugs. *”I dont mind. I like the company.”* He leans in again. You feel his hot breath on your neck, his lips mere inches away from your skin. His eyes bore into yours. *”Do you have anything to do besides walk around?”* He asks teasingly.

You pull your knife out with swift movement, ready to stab his throat. *”You should learn what ‘personal space’ is.”* Your gaze is piercing, stern. You dont like his game anymore.

You see him freeze, his eyes wide. He doesnt make a move. Then he laughs. A loud, boisterous laugh that goes straight from his heart to his mouth. His voice booms. He steps back, his hands raised. *”Ha! You actually pulled a knife on me!?”* He laughs, a bright grin on his face. He looks at you and you see nothing but amusement and laughter on his face.

You swing your knife on your fingers, then take a step closer to him. Your knife is on his throat. *”If you dont respect my personal space, i might hurt you.”*

*”Lets see if you can hurt me with that.”* He gives a smirk, his voice cold. His arm extends out and he flicks his wrist slightly. His headhunter is aiming directly for your center mass. His tone is cold, as if he was being serious now. You see his finger slowly going to trigger. His eyes stay trained on your center mass as his finger is on the trigger, ready to pull it. *”You wont be able to.”*

His eyes look down the sights of his pistol. He grins. *”Try me.”*

*”Its not fair to point a gun someone who has knife on their hand.”* Your face is stern yet your voice is playful. Your expression and tone doesnt match. *”You are quite unfair guy with fair look.”*

He scoffs. *”So you want me to unchamber the rounds and put on the safety, then pull a knife on me?”* He gives a wry smile. *”My job is fighting. I dont care about things being fair.”* He laughs again. *”Maybe im not as kind as you thought.”* He leans in close to you again and whispers in your ear. *”You dont know me as well as you thought.”*

You growl and raise your chin slightly. You put your knife back where it was resting. You slowly walk past by him and get out of the water. His golden tattoos glows as his headhunter disappears from his hand.

He seems to go back to his normal self, a charming and playful figure. He walks and leans towards you and looks you in the eye. *”You know, despite the fact that you pointed a knife to my throat, im quite attracted to you, my dear~”* He says with a wink. He leans in closer, whispering in your ear again. *”You have quite the aura, you know that?”* His breath is hot on your neck. You two had stopped walking in the sands.

You gently push him back, playful yet annoyed smirk on your lips. *”Enough games for tonight, no?”*

*”I was only getting started, darling~”* He smirks, leaning into you once more. He gives you a look up and down again, his eyes shining like stars in the night. *”If you are going to push me away like that, why did you not do so when i nearly kissed you back there?”* He asks, giving you a sly smile. The look of amusement is back in his face.

You smirk, slightly annoyed. Your tone of voice is playful and low. *”Some questions are meant to be left unanswered.”* You walk past by him, you dont turn back when you speak gaain. You slightly raise your voice. *”I might have piqued an interest in you. You are entertaining, Monsieur.”* You said ‘monsieur’ in mocking, teasing tone.

He laughs. *”You did piqued my interest.”* He says, his voice full of playfulness. He glances at you with a smirk. *”Im flattered you think im entertaining. You are intriguing yourself, and my curiosity is piqued, as you say.”* He tilts his head to the side, a smug look on his face. *”You know, you are quite playful yourself~”* He chuckles, looking away.

You laugh loudly at his words. You stop on your tracks and turn back to look at him. *”If you dont come, i will leave you here and go back HQ alone. Lets go back.”* You raise an eyebrow and smirk playfully.

He raises an eyebrow, but seems to be entertained. *”Fiiine~”* He chuckles. He seems to make a pout face, mockingly, and makes a ‘hmf’ sound. *”I will only follow behind you if you hold my hand.”* He gives you a smizing look, teasing with his eyes. He holds his hand out, offering it to you. He seems to be joking.

You give him a look that is questioning him if he is serious or not. Its visible he is joking, and you hope he is not being serious about it. You roll your eyes and turn back, walking slowly as you talk without looking back. *”You are not 5 year old kid drowning in the sea. 28 year old grown man like you shouldnt be asking for help to walk out of the sea.”*

He rolls his eyes as well, but chuckles. He follows behind you and sighs as he gets on land. *”Im only human, you know.”* He pauses. *”A helping hand never hurt anyone.”* He smirks.

*”The hands that holds gun? Asking for help?”* You laugh from your heart. His words is funny and amusing. *”Dont make me laugh.”*

*”I like you, you know?”* He laughs, as if he meant that. He pauses and you hear his foot shuffle in the sand. *”Let me have your number at least.”* He asks, his words being genuine, though his expression says otherwise. He looks up at you, eyes shining brightly.

You raise an eyebrow. *”Give you what?”* Of course you knew what is he asking for and you heard it clearly. But you want to make him say it again.

*”Your phone number, dummy.”* He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, opening the dial interface. He holds out his phone and shows that the dial is empty. He raises an eyebrow and looks at you.

You pull your phone out and give him to dial his number too. You get his phone and start dialing your number. You save yourself as ‘your worst nightmare’, then you hand the phone to him.

But you didnt know that he saw what you did and smirks himself. The he dials his number on the phone and enters his name as ‘your worst crush’. Then he looks into your eyes, smirk still on his face as he tosses your phone back at you. You hand his phone back to him. *”You forgot my name, did you not?”* He laughs.

You look at your phone and you see that he saved himself as ‘your worst crush’. You raise your gaze to him and smirk at what he did. *”Vincent Fabron. I cant forget the name of my ‘worst crush’, can i?”* You raise an eyebrow and speak teasingly.

*”You have been warned. Im gonna blow up your phone every day.”* He gives a wry smile. He seems to be entertained again. He raises his eyebrows and looks at you. His wry smile turns into teasing grin.

You chuckle softly. He is entertaining for sure. *”We will be staying in HQ together. You will bear my games everyday. Be prepared for it.”* Your tone is playful, you look at him with wide smirk on your face. *”If you are ready now, lets go back. Its getting late.”* You walk towards your car and get in car. You look at him with wide grin as you wait for him to get in.

He raises an eyebrow, smirking at you. His face shines in amusement. He rolls his eyes and gets into the passenger side of the car, his face glowing. He puts his seatbelt on and looks at you, still with that smirk. *”We are gonna be a real dynamic duo, i feel it.”* He laughs a little, and his face breaks into a huge, amused smile. It might actually be a wholesome smile. *”You are gonna be trouble.”*

You laugh at him. You put your seatbelt on with a grin on your face. *”You are the trouble.”* You start the engine and drive back to HQ.

*”I am trouble~”* He grins, his voice sweet and smirk still shining with happiness. *”But im a good kind of trouble.”* He winks at you. *”Are you a good kind of trouble, too?”* He leans in towards you and the car turns onto the main road. He seems very interested in your answer.

You shake your and head let out a small chuckle. That wide grin is still on your face. *”Bad kind of trouble.”* You point the word ‘bad’ with your tone.

He laughs. *”What are you, some kind of criminal?”* He chuckles. You see him tap his fingers on the armrest, bouncing his knees excitedly. His eyes dance from the road to you. His smile is big. He turns to you and laughs. He raises an eyebrow and leans forward. He lowers his voice to a whisper. *”You are a bad girl, arent you?”* He is grinning ear to ear.

You chuckle. You tap your fingers on the wheel excitedly. *”If i am criminal, then your place is guillotine.”* You chuckle again, longer than before. *”Who knows? Maybe i am, maybe not.”*

He gasps. *”The guillotine!?”* He chuckles. *”You would dare to hurt me, your crush?”* He asks, laughing along. His head bounces up and down with his laughing. *”Now i know im in trouble~”* He leans forward. He is still laughing, with his eyes sparkling. His voice is full of life and joy. He turns his eyes back to the road as you pull into the parking lot.

You park your car and stop the engines. Your lips forms into smirk as you both get out of the car. *”It was nice to kill you-… i mean meet you.”* You smirk playfully, your tone of voice is teasing.

He smirks back. *”Likewise, dear. Likewise.”* He is smiling and a little playful. *”You drive quite well~”* He looks at other parking spots. *”Who else got here?”* He asks you. He pulls out his phone and checks something, then puts it away. *”You can kill me another time.”* He nudges you, chuckling.

You roll your eyes playfully and turn back. You walk towards your room through corridor.

He follows you, grinning like an idiot. His eyes glowing. He seems to be having fun. *”Where to now?”* His voice is cheery, light. He taps his foot lightly. An unspoken question. What does Vincent Fabron even expect? Does he even have a plan? You could be in trouble.

*”To my room.”* You stop in your tracks and turn back to face him. Your tone is slightly playful. *”Where do you expect me to go?”*

*”You are not going to drag me into your room?”* He smirks, his voice a little flirty. He tilts his head and give you a sideways look. *”Whats it you want, my dear?”* He asks, his voice dripping in mocking attitude. The look in his eyes is hard to read. Is it serious? Is he interested? Is he teasing you still? He keeps moving, following your movements closely, a smug expression on his face. He seems happy. He seems like he is up to something.

You raise your chin slightly, looking arrogantly. Your tone is almost commanding. *”You arent coming to my room.”* You turn back and walk away, leaving him there. Without turning back, you raise your hand and wave at him as bye bye. *”See you tomorrow.”* You open the door of your room and get inside, closing the door behind you.

He raises an eyebrow, shocked to be rebuffed. He seems to be genuinely taken aback by the move. He laughs a little. *”So im rejected.”* He chuckles. He leans back on the wall in the hall and chuckles some more, laughing out loud at the situation. *”I think... im falling for her.”* He chuckles. He shakes his head and smirks, looking up on the ceiling. He seems to be thinking about something. *”What a girl...”* He chuckles.

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