Tumgik
#listen. i have been hearing things and i would just like to say. i don't fully understand what an eccles cake is but.
peanutpinet · 2 days
Note
BABE!!!! We absolutely need a second part to Little Things, we need to know how their relationship develops and see Sylus fall in lover with reader's soul. PLEASE BABE PLEASE!!!
Tumblr media
Welcome to My World - Sylus x Fem Reader (Sequel to Little Things)
Request: Craving for a sequel to this w/ reader actually going back to her world and sylus just defying all odds shshshshs these kinds of fics are so interesting love em <3
A/N: Just a lil something for those who wanted to see what would Sylus be like if he were to actually come out of the screen and into our world (still having his evol but is not addressed). Also if anyone is a Kpop fan, I just want to say, do have a listen to Aespa’s Welcome to My World. It embodies this fic so much and am putting some of the lyrics into the story! I hope you guys enjoy!!
Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.
Also, if you haven't read Little Things, the "first part" of the story, do have a read. Will be link here. But you don't have to read it and can just read each of these fics seperately
Warnings: Fluff but mainly ANGST, Isekai Theme, Will be Going back and Forth between LADS universe and our universe, slow burn because Sylus is tryna find you :))
Funfact: I remembered the TV Show: Westworld and how the characters of the game gain conciousness when writing this fic
Songs to listen to: NCT Dream - Broken Melodies, Aespa - Welcome to My World, NCT Dream - Like We Just Met
N109 Zone - 01:48 AM
It was in the middle of the night. When all are asleep, people in the N109 zone, those in the shadows have only started to wake up and get on about their day, including Sylus. Slowly awakening from his slumber, Sylus saw the girl that was beside him, fast asleep. Her chest was rising and falling in a steady motion; indicating that she was in a deep sleep.
Smiling to himself, Sylus decided to scootch a bit closer and caressed the girl’s cheek. But as he did, the girl immediately grabbed his wrist tightly and jerked awake. “Who the fuck…w-where am I?!”
Hearing the girl’s words, Sylus knew. “You’re not her…”
Real World - 09:28 AM
You woke up with a pounding headache but slowly regained your consciousness, you noticed how the bed wasn’t as big nor was it as warm as when you were used to. Jerking up, you took in the room you were in. The bright white ceiling was the first thing you see, the smell of alcohol and blood was faint but you could smell it, and then you heard a beeping noise which made you turn and saw that your hand was hooked onto a monitor and an IV drip.
Whipping your head around, you search for your phone until you find it and immediately look at the date when you suddenly get a notification from both Instagram and Twitter mentioning the new update for Love and Deepspace.
“I’m back…” you sobbed yet your fingers glided across the screen of your phone, pressing the game that you swore you were in
As the game loads, you see the cutscenes of all of the characters and can’t help but feel emotionally overwhelmed whenever you see Sylus’ cutscenes.
Once the game loaded and you could hear that cafe jingle along with those familiar red eyes, you tried to see whether or not anything had changed in the game other than the new updates but when you clicked on his tall figure, the lines he said were nothing out of the ordinary. Even in the text message icon, you couldn’t text him like you did when you were in the game.
“Was it all just a dream?”
“Y-you’re awake!!” you heard someone talk and as your eyes looked at the doorframe, it was the nurse
You soon found out that you had been in a coma for a little over 2 weeks yet it felt like you were in the game for 2 months, maybe even more. Your best friends came to visit you every day and now that you’re awake, they were bombarding you with food, life updates, and all.
For once, you actually didn’t feel as lonely as you were when you appeared in the game.
Maybe it truly was all just a dream…
From a distance, a black crow was watching your interaction with your friends from a tree that was just outside of your window. After some time, the crow eventually fled and flew away from the tree.
N109 Zone - 04:18 AM
Sylus was beyond pissed. He took MC to where he took you in the beginning to get your evol and aether core checked but additionally, he wanted to know if you were truly not in the MC’s body. Sylus’ worker questioned as to why he brought MC again to check her evol and aether core, confusing the Onychinus’ leader.
Even when the two came home, the twins didn’t notice any difference from MC. What’s wrong with everyone? You’re not MC and it goes the other way as well. Why were the twins pestering MC who to Sylus, was not you.
“But boss, Miss Hunter and you have known each other for over 2 months now. What do you mean she’s not her?” Luke questioned, genuinely confused at his boss’ attitude
“She’s not. Have you forgotten who taught you both how to cook the simplest meal? The one that bought you those bulletproof vests?” Sylus demanded, something, anything about your sudden disappearance or at the very least, anyone other than him remembering your existence
“It’s Miss Hunter, though?” Kieran replied, making Sylus groan. “Just, leave me alone for the next few days” Sylus left the room and walked past MC who grabbed his wrist, making his brow arch in confusion.
Sighing, Sylus turned to see MC. “What is it that you want?”
“Where are you going? I went through all the trouble to get the N109 zone and I want answers regarding the aether core” MC demanded but Sylus just chuckled and used his evol to remove MC’s hand from his wrist
“You already have the aether core you’re looking for. Why don’t you go back and ask your doctor about that? I have other matters to attend to. Like why are you here instead of her” Sylus mentioned, walking away until MC talked to him
“You’re always mentioning her but you never mentioned her name. Who are you exactly talking about and what does it have to do with me?” MC questioned and this time, Sylus grabbed her by her neck and pinned her to the nearest wall
“Don’t tempt my patience. I only have so much left ever since your attitude shows up instead of something else I want. From here on out, I could care less about your little quest. You can even have that brooch you’re wearing to get in and out of the N109 zone without getting harmed. But I want you to leave. Go back to your doctor, that fish man of an artist, or fake hunter for all I care. When I come back to this place, I hope that you’re not here anymore. Or you’ll hurt even more” Sylus warned, releasing MC as he went who knows where.
Sylus went into his car, the car that you love to drive in. Though you were just a soul in MC’s body, he could immediately tell the two of you apart. What scent do you like, the small trinkets that you would buy to keep his things more organized, some small keychain plushies that he would put on his keys which is in contrast to his scary look.
You might just be a soul that just so happens to be in MC’s body, the body of a person he should’ve been interacting with, the one he should’ve been bound to. But why does his heart feel incomplete? Why does his soul long for your own.
Gripping onto the steering wheel, Sylus looked at the plushie you put in this car. It was a koala, one of your favourite plushies, because you told him that you looked like a koala when Sylus carried you around. “I swore to you that if this were to happen, I would find you. Regardless what happens, I will find a way to get back to you. Our stories’ unfinished, sweetie. Wait for me. I’ll do anything to get back to you”
Real World
It’s been several months since you woke up. You still played the game but not as often anymore. You got a job at your friend’s office as a secretary. It pays well, you and your friend are roommates, life has been going fairly well that you barely played the game that provided you comfort.
One day, however, there was a bouquet of red Carnations mixed with pink Camillas on your desk with a note attached to it. “I hope this gets to you. If this ever reaches you, it means that I’m another step closer to seeing you again. There’s this uneasy feeling I’ve been feeling since you were gone. I promise I won’t stop finding you”
Confused, you asked everyone, including the delivery man who delivered the flowers to you but no one knew where it came from. It didn’t even mention your name and only a description of you.
Brushing it off, you thought it must’ve been some kind of prank until several more flowers reached you. One after another, there were notes along with the flowers which all made your heart clench because whoever this person was, it seemed that either you left a very deep impression on them or this was some sort of stalker.
“Did the first one reach you? I’m getting closer”
“I hope that you’re eating well. Wait for me”
“It seems that you’ve forgotten about me once more. No matter, I’ll be sure to jog your memory once we meet again”
Another year has finally passed and the bouquet and notes kept on coming until you saw the flowers and notes that came in. Instead of the usual red Carnation or pink Camillas or even sometimes Forget me nots, this time it was a bouquet of black and red roses with a note of a familiar handwriting and scent.
“I’ve finally found you. You said that you were worried about me finding the real you but to me, you’re just as perfect as your soul. Your face, your body, it matches your soul perfectly. And even though you might’ve forgotten about me, I assure you that my love for you is still the same like we just met. Perhaps in the game, I would allow you to go live your life without me because it’s safer for you. But here, looking at you, I can feel myself coming alive once more. Whether you try to move on, I know that there’s a lingering feeling behind your pretty head thinking of the possibility. And you would be correct, sweetie. I’m fulfilling my promise to you. For there is no love greater than mine.
P.S: we should thank Mephisto for always managing to find you when I couldn’t
-Sylus”
You were in shock. Sure, there was a small voice, hidden behind all your to-dos, your schedules, your wants, likes, needs. A faint voice telling you of the possibility that perhaps Sylus was the one to send you all those flowers and notes but you were in your world, the real world. You would lock that faint voice and never think about it again. You were realistic. There was no way that a fictional 3D man would send you all of that.
And Mephisto? He’s a bird. A mechanical bird that is tied with Sylus. Everything seemed ridiculous. You couldn’t think straight for the rest of the day until your boss called you for a sudden meeting outside of the office and at a restaurant.
The restaurant was filled with high-class people, some were doing business with another while others were simply finding ways to spend their money. Suddenly, it reminded you of the time when you were in MC’s body and Sylus would take the two of you out to dinner.
Remembering Sylus, the flowers, and the note, you decided to excuse yourself to the restroom but in reality, you decided to log into the very game you downloaded to seek comfort. The nostalgia was coming back. They made a new update and introduced a new male character. Once your game loads, Sylus is still in the game and when you poke him, thinking that he’ll respond like how he would when a player hasn’t logged in for so long, he surprises you.
“You’re probably wondering why am I not responding to you in a way that you expect. Well, why don’t you check my messages on the message feature, sweetie?” Sylus mentioned and immediately, you went to open the message feature in the game and once again, you were shocked with what you read on the screen that you had to cover your mouth.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, kitten? I’m sad that you’ve forgotten about me but I’m genuinely happy with how you’re living your life so far”
“But if I were to tell you that I want to be apart of your life here, would you accept me?”
You were given the chance to answer him, to reply to this sudden message but your boss had already called you back and unfortunately, you had to go back to the table and sit beside your boss.
As you were about to sit down, you heard that familiar soothing voice that always calms your nerves; especially when you’re in the N109 zone. “Is this your secretary that we’ve been waiting for?”
Immediately, you looked up and met with those soft bright red eyes behind small glasses. The white hair you’ve gone through with your fingers was styled like how you first met him. The figure sitting in front of you was wearing a soft grey sweater and black jeans.
And that smile, that smile that you’re so used to seeing everyday is now showing in front of you again. “Pleased to meet you, sweetheart. Shall we begin the meeting?”
Throughout the meeting, you tried your best to pay attention and jot down all the notes you needed. You struggled for a moment and even towards the end, you stutter your thank you and goodbyes until the white-hair man called you.
“Waiting for someone, sweetie?” you heard that damn voice as you could feel all hairs on your skin stand up
Turning around, you finally got a good look at him. All of his 190cm height was towering over your figure. Your actual real-life self and not the MC you created in the game.
On one side, you wanted to talk, to question him if all of this was just another one of those visions you used to have. On the other, you wanted to jump at the man in front of you. To cry in his arms as he holds you close. But nothing. You were frozen in your spot as this Sylus look-alike smirked at you and held his index out which suddenly a black crow rest on.
“Is, is that…” you managed to utter, making the man in front of you chuckle
“Mephisto. An actual crow this time” he said, extending his hand out so the black crow was within your reach
Extending your own index out, the black crow, Mephisto went onto your index and you instinctively stroke its head. “We never stop looking for you, you know”
You look up to see those eyes that once were filled with rage now filled with sadness. Sighing, you tried to remind yourself that this is the real world, not your game.
“I'm sorry, sir. You must've gotten the wrong person. I don't think we’ve met before this meeting today. Your bird must be very friendly to have gone on another person’s hand” you mentioned, intending to return the black crow, still not believing that the man and bird in front of you are who you think they are
But instead, the man in front of you turned and took something from his pocket. “Is that so? Well then either you don’t want to remember what we’ve been through or Mephisto might’ve gotten the wrong person. Then how about we reintroduce ourselves to one another?”
“I’m Sylus, this is Mephisto. We were from a faraway land called the N109 zone. For the past year, I've been building my multimillion security tech company” Sylus mentioned, extending his hand out, revealing the brooch that you once wore as a promise to Sylus to stay by him
Shocked to see the brooch, you stutter at your words but Sylus noticed this and gently took one of your hands which you didn’t deny. “I meant what I said and I’m keeping my promise. My only regret is I couldn’t come find you sooner”
“H-how? This has got to be a joke. You’re not real. You’re not actually here. I must be dreaming again. I’m going mad” you started to lose your mind but Sylus pulled you into a hug
“Tell me this isn’t real then. Tell me that you don’t see me. Tell me that you don’t feel this warmth we both have wanted for a long time. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll gladly walk away from you so that you can continue to live your life as is but don’t expect me not to want to be a part of your life. Don’t think that even if I walk away today, I won’t try my best to still keep an eye on you” Sylus stated, whispering into your ear, kissing right below your ear
Taking in his calming leather scent, you slowly sob in Sylus’ chest as he strokes your head, calming you. “You’re such a stubborn crow” you finally hug Sylus, indirectly accepting him back into your life
“I know. But it’s worth it. I finally get back to you. Though I can’t offer you as much as I would when we were in the N109 zone, I do promise you that I will be here this time. I’m not letting you go that easily. So, you’re willing to let me back?” Sylus asked, making you chuckle
“Welcome to the real world, my world, Sylus” you said, getting on your tiptoe to give his cheek a kiss but instead, Sylus turned his head, held your neck and leaned for an actual kiss
A/N: Ngl, I was simping over my own writing of this. Where can we find an irl Sylus T^T
238 notes · View notes
reidmoony-toast · 2 days
Text
Strawberry Wine. ౨ৎ
"If I was empty space, and you were a formless shape we'd fit"
Tumblr media
Spencer x fem singer!reader
The three times they miss each other, and the one time they don't
content: no use of y/n, fluff, pining galore
cw: lil suggestive? (She sings Chappell Roan)
wc: 2.4k
an: I've been cooking this up for a while, but life has been super busy, so I haven't yet finished the other parts. I'm very sorry if they take a few weeks to finish :[ Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3
| pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | series masterlist ౨ৎ
· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·
He really wished he wasn’t here. He never should have begrudgingly agreed to Penelope’s crazy plans, no matter how much she bugged him about it. This was about as far opposite to his kind of thing that you could get.
The lights were bright–unbearably so; flashing so much he feared he would have an epileptic episode (if it weren’t for the small fact that he didn’t actually have epilepsy, but he digressed).
The large room was also deafening, filled with fans, all of them buzzing in anticipation. Penelope was not an exception–she bounced up and down like a rogue ball, shrieking in excitement close to every thirty seconds. He would know. He had been counting.
Although he would rather be at the very back (if he had to choose anywhere in this wretched place), Penny had physically forced him into the very front row, only a barrier separating them from the stage.
He didn’t know and definitely didn’t want to know how Penelope had acquired such tickets and at such short notice before the show. He had found that he was better living in ignorance of the borderline illegal habits of his best friend.
He had just endured half an hour of what Penny had called the ‘openers’. He was dismayed to hear that the performance was not the actual concert; he learnt that the hard way when he had asked Penelope if they could leave, which she replied to with a cackle, stating that the band that had just exited the stage was, in fact, not the main event of the evening.
He had buried his face in his hands and let out a loud groan. He only had himself to blame for being caught up in the ‘Garcia puppy eyes’ trap, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t whinge at least a little bit–or a lot bit.
He didn’t know much about this singer girl, only that Penelope was obsessed with her, bringing her up in conversation many a time. He admitted that he often didn’t fully (if at all) listen when Garcia gushed over her–he seemed to always zone out.
He had never properly heard her songs, only in passing when Penelope would blast music in her cave, and he didn’t even have a clue what she looked like.
He was mentally preparing himself for the next few gruelling hours, with Penny jumping up and down beside him, when the lights dimmed, sending the whole room into a frenzy.
He winced at the screaming and whooping coming from all around him. Smoke machines started emitting mist, covering the stage and fogging up the colourful lights. The crowd continued to roar, Penelope squealing next to him and gripping the railing of the barrier.
A figure emerged through the haze, the silhouette showing locks of hair cascading over their shoulders, clad in a silk slip dress that ended at the mid thigh, hugging their curves.
They started singing–a smooth, silky voice wrapped around him, making the room suddenly feel more bearable. He swallowed hard. The singing was beautiful. Sweet and rich, wrapping around him like a cosy blanket.
He raised his eyebrows with pleasant surprise. It was, admittedly, not bad in the slightest. He hated to say it, but he was enjoying it, a lot. More than he should, given that it was new-age pop, not the refined tones of classical music–his favourite genre by far.
All thoughts of music flew out of his head as the owner of the angelic voice stepped into the stage lights, allowing him to properly see her for the first time. His breath left his body as he took her in.
She was gorgeous, stunning–almost ethereal, as her other-worldy voice filled his cochlea, transmitting electrical signals through his nerve pathways to his primary auditory cortex.
Her hair shone in the light, giving her a halo of the highest grade, her bright lips curled into a perfect smile around her words, and her eyes shone with a million glinting stars.
He was utterly enamoured by her–every facial expression, every movement she made, every note she sang was all absorbed thoroughly by his wide eyes.
In no time at all, the first song was over, finishing with loud cheering and clapping from the audience. The angel grinned out at the sea of fans, soaking up the feeling.
Unlike Spencer, she was well and truly in her element, looking as though there was not where else in the world she would rather be.
He gazed in open-mouthed awe at the way she floated effortlessly about the stage–and, of course, that breathtaking smile that scrunched her nose and revealed the prettiest dimples he had ever seen.
He was snapped back to reality with a sharp poke in the side from Penelope, centering his gravity away from the girl on stage and back to where he stood.
“What?” He said loudly, an exasperated look adorning his face as he tore his eyes back to his best friend. She was smirking at him, arms crossed in front of herself.
“You have such a thing for her, I’m surprised you're not drooling right now,” she answered mockingly. He scoffed, dismissing her words with a wave of his hands as he faced the stage again, not wanting to miss a moment of the show. He heard Garcia laugh deeply at his half-hearted denial.
All thoughts of Penelope soon left his mind as the heaven-sent saint started to sing again, striking chords in his heart at every note.
The song came and went again, and Spencer wished they would not go by so fast, so he could see her for as long as possible.
The next song started with a more upbeat track, and the angel laughed, running back down stage, scarily close to where Spencer stood. “She was a, Playboy, Brigitte Bardot,” she started to sing, “She showed me things, I didn't know.”
She stuck out her tongue playfully, shaking her hips, making the satin fabric hugging her curves sway.
“She did it right there, out on the deck,” she bit down on her bottom lip as Spencer’s face heated, realising what the song was about. “Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck.”
She gestured with her fingers to a spot on her neck, pretending as if her fingers were the teeth, tipping her head back with imaginary ecstasy. He swallowed heavily, face hot.
“I'm in the hallway waitin' for ya,” she sang, “Mini skirt and my go-go boots,” on those lyrics, she bent over, running her free hand from her heeled boots and up her legs, jutting her ass out.
Spencer’s mouth fell open in shock. He had never felt like this from only a few minutes of meeting someone, let alone just laying his eyes on them. This was completely out of the ordinary for him, and it left him reeling.
~☆~
Songs flitted by like the butterflies in his stomach, and his gaze was permanently fixated on the captivating women centre-stage. He couldn't tear his eyes away even if he tried–and he most definitely didn't.
A new song started, fading in with a catchy guitar riff, and the crowd went wild, sparking a wide smile on the angel’s face.
The drum beat started, and she strutted down the stage, tipping her head back and shaking her smooth curls out in the dim lights before she began to sing. “Midnight,” she dragged out the end of the word.
“Come and pick me up, no headlights,” she blew a kiss to the fans in front of her, winking as she made her way down the stage towards where Spencer was situated.
Penelope grasped his arm tighter and tighter as she neared, buttery voice washing over him.
“Watch us go ‘round and ‘round each time,” she stretched out the note, rolling her head to the side, eyes landing exactly where Spencer was standing. He froze, dumbstruck, as he locked eyes with her.
He gulped heavily as a cheeky grin adorned her face, soft lips framing perfectly white teeth. She straightened up, continuing the lyrics as she floated even closer to him, never breaking eye contact.
“You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye,” She knelt down on the stage in front of Spencer. His breathing stuttered as his gaze remained on her, utterly entranced.
“And I got that red lip classic thing that you like,” she dragged her thumb across her lip, singing to him through a happy, if not slightly teasing, smile.
“‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style,” He could see her mouth curving around each syllable as she sang into the microphone, eyes still, somehow, on him.
He most definitely looked like an idiot in that moment, with his flushed cheeks and slack-jawed awe of the ethereal woman only a few feet away, but he didn't have it in himself to care.
She had seen him, and not only that, she had actually come over and sat, right there on the stage in front of him. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, she was–without question–looking, and singing, straight at him.
She leaned impossibly closer, leaving only a few inches between their two faces as she crooned the words into the microphone. His eyes flicked across the features of her face before they settled on her own.
Up close, they were mesmerising– long, thick lashes framed bright irises, sparkling with the light of the night sky– he could almost map out the constellations he knew off by heart from the incandescent twinkles in her eyes.
“You got that long hair, slicked back-” She moved her free hand to hover over the collar of Spencer's shirt, seemingly asking silent consent to touch him.
He shook out of his trance long enough to nod vigorously. She let out a short chuckle, grabbing his collar and carefully but firmly pulling him closer by his shirt. “-white T-shirt.”
His breath hitched as hers ghosted his lips with every exhale, noses almost touching, with hardly any room for the microphone as his heart raced impossibly faster.
“And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt.” At that, she pulled away, letting go of his collar as she leaned back to run her free hand over her skirt, smirking at Spencer and his flaming-red face.
“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time,” she repeats, still serenading him. “'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style!” She finally stood, winking and blowing a kiss at a thoroughly flustered Spencer as she strutted to another part of the stage.
Spencer stood there, dumbfounded. He couldn't believe she had not only noticed him, but also sang right to him. His shirt was crumpled from where she had gripped it, but he didn't dare fix it. If possible, he would never smooth the rumpled fabric if it meant he could have a reminder of her always.
A rough shake of his shoulder brought him back to the present, Penelope standing astonished next to him, incredulous smile playing on her lips and she all but shrieked in his ear–something along the lines of, ‘You're so lucky!’ and ‘You're so down bad!’.
He didn't pay her any mind, instead keeping his still-red face on her, and her only.
She wandered to different parts of the stage during the remainder of the song, but Spencer didn't miss the more-than-occasional glances she sent his way throughout the next few songs, smile growing each time they locked eyes.
When they did, he matched her smile with his own goofy grin, his heart feeling as if it was beating out of his chest, breathing becoming erratic as he clutched the railing with white knuckles.
~☆~
All too soon, the concert came to an end, accompanied by raucous applause from the crowd. He clapped like a mad thing too, finally understanding why her fans acted the way they did.
The version of him from two hours ago would have teased him relentlessly for this, but he didn't care. It was another completely different version of him, a version that had not yet laid his eyes on her.
It certainly felt like a life-altering moment in his existence. His being was now split into ‘before’ and ‘after’. Before and after her.
She waved and blew kisses enthusiastically as she made her way off stage. He deduced that she would have to walk right past Spencer to get there. He pathetically hoped she would look at him one last time–prayed she cared enough to seek him out once again.
Electricity jolted through his entire body, head to toe, as she locked eyes with Spencer when he was in her direct line of sight.
She gave him a wink and a little wave, biting her lip through a larger-than-life grin; he felt giddy, hand coming up in an awkward half-wave. He silently cursed himself for the stiltedness of his actions.
She, however, didn't have such qualms as she blew him an air kiss, giggling as she turned away, skipping the rest of the way off stage. The screaming continued as the heel of her shoe disappeared behind the side-stage curtain.
He felt oddly hollow as the venue lights came back on, signalling the end of the show. He kept staring at the spot where she had last been, silently hoping she would come back out and sing again. Look at him again.
He blinked hard, finally re-orienting himself, glancing around to see a few people staring at him, whispering to themselves.
They were talking about him–about his encounter. He turned away again, ducking his head as his cheeks burned again.
As quickly as they came, the stares went again, and his eyes flicked back to the stage again. He so badly wanted to meet her, talk to her, even just lay his eyes on her again. That would be enough.
Penelope cleared her throat next to him, and he hummed in response, still not looking away. She snorted. “Come on lover boy, time to leave.”
He turned his attention to see her nod in the direction of the exit.
He gazed back at that spot once more, heaving out a melancholy sigh, before turning away, heading towards the door.
“Yeah, let's go.”
· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·
Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x
Tags: @reidology13 - Comment to be added!
Masterlist ౨ৎ
107 notes · View notes
loggiepj · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
lizzie
Summary: just an angsty one shot story 😂✌🏳️‍🌈
"TOM SAID she had been using Rooney to gain more credits to her work, always insisting to come along Rooney when she's in film productions, pretending she was only supporting her then girlfriend just so she could give her scripts to producers. And she did this while cheating on her behind her back."
You bit your lip to stop yourself from bursting into tears, hand on your chest, slipping to your collarbone then up to your neck as you willed yourself to breathe.
"That's awful," you heard Lizzie's beautiful voice slurring through the confines of the comfort room, through the door of the cubicle you were trapped in. "I can't believe she could do such a thing. She was so sweet and all, I thought . . . I thought—"
"Oh, we thought so too, Liz," another person chimed in, "but don't be easily fooled. I heard Rooney's lawyer will be filing a case against her sometime soon."
Your other hand went to embrace yourself, clutching against the side of your sweater as you might lose it.
"It was a risk on the producer's part to still include her in this film," said another, "knowing her reputation."
In the following silence, you could hear Elizabeth's sigh. "God, I wouldn't have known."
It was complete torture, having to listen through it all, having to witness how someone you had grown close to in the past few weeks could crush you down in an instant. Five minutes and thirty seven seconds, to be exact.
As if the gods above had acknowledged you had suffered enough, they eventually left the comfort room and began discussing about the next scenes as they walked through the door.
When you heard the door shut close, you broke down. The kind of cry where you seemed to be running out of air to breathe, as if you had been clawing your insides until there's nothing left. You didn't think it was possible to cry for someone like this. You felt like a kid, but you couldn't wail louder since anyone could just walk into the toilet.
The gossips you had endured during highschool, about you being gay, had nothing in comparison to what just happened. Especially the one who was involved was someone special to you. And it felt worse coming from her. To think that Lizzie would actually believe them, believe the rumors circulating about you. To think that she could be different from others. But you'd thought wrong.
It all started with Rooney. She was an actress you fell in love with when you got to work with her and Tom in Carol movie. You had been together with Rooney for almost six years. And yet for one simple action, a drunk crewmate kissing you on the lips inside the producer's room, mistaking you as his girlfriend, Rooney threw everything.
It was all one big misunderstanding. One night, you were just making love. The next, you weren't allowed to enter the penthouse you were both staying, considering Rooney owned that unit and you gave up yours when you moved in with her.
Her sister, Kate, the ever merciful one, contacted you afterwards the sudden eviction, saying that she would try to persuade Rooney to be at least forgiving to let you stay for the meantime while you were looking for another place to live.
But that didn't happen. After that incident, rumors of you cheating started to spread around in the industry, some were exaggerated to give that appeal. And no one trusted you anymore, that you would only use people to your own benefit.
If you weren't only friends with the director of the current film you were working with, you wouldn't have any project.
And then you met Elizabeth Olsen.
You can call me Lizzie, by the way, was what she said when the two of you first talked.
Lizzie had a very distinctive and elegant appearance. She had fair skin, light brown hair, and expressive eyes that were usually a striking green. She was almost an inch taller than you, but if she wore heels, you'd always look up to her whenever the two of you were talking.
You knew her from her massive role as Wanda Maximoff in Marvel Universe films, and you even used to idolize her as someone who's good in everything, no matter what genre the film she was in.
And you both just instantly clicked, like you were made for each other. You could talk to her for hours and hours through the production days, either before the filming would start, during breaks or at the end of the day. She would also share everything to you, with enthusiasm to your mutual interests, as if you were long-time friends. She looked at you without judgment, making you wonder if she knew about the rumors, the one thing that could destroy this newfound promising relationship. Knowing Lizzie wasn't into social media and stuff was what kept you asleep most nights.
You had even asked her to a date that weekend and you both enjoyed it to the fact that she almost invited you inside her nearby apartment when you gave her a ride home. There was this kind of feeling you feel whenever she was around, sometimes butterflies, sometimes longing.
But everything crumbled down when a newcomer saw the two of you flirting with each other.
YOU SPLASHED some cold water into your face as you prepared yourself to face the outside world, hoping it wasn't that obvious that you were just crying seconds ago.
When you went back to the studio to get some work done, you saw Lizzie on one corner practicing some lines with her co-star.
Maybe you were only overthinking it. Maybe she would see you through, talk to you about it, listen to your side of the story. But when you approached them, they only went silent.
"Hey," you greeted, trying to diminish any awkwardness.
"Hi Y/n," Lizzie replied with a smile, "we're just quickly rehearsing for the next scene."
"Oh, okay, sorry to bother you both," you said, "I'll just talk to you later then."
She only smiled back as she went back to her script. You would have just let it go if it weren't for the fact that she would always choose to talk to you.
LATER was no different as you went to knock against the door of her trailer upon hearing Lizzie's laughter inside. Abruptly, the laughters died, and you swore you could hear shushing. When her friend opened the door the second time you knocked, said friend only told you Lizzie wasn't in there even when you knew she was.
THROUGH the days that followed, it was slowly sinking in that maybe they got her too. That Lizzie believed them too.
You tried to give Lizzie the benefit of the doubt. That maybe she was only busy, knowing the most critical scenes were being shot. But you had probably sent her a lot of messages to which Lizzie had only replied words fewer and bland as compared to the older ones she had sent you.
WHEN you tried to approach Lizzie during one of the breaks, surprising her with your favorite cheesecake she said she liked, she thanked you rather hurriedly.
"Thanks, Y/n," she said. "You shouldn't have."
"It's fine," you said back, brushing her off as she tried to return the box to you. "I was in the area earlier when I passed by the store, and I remembered you wanting to eat another slice of it."
What was redness that you used to see adorned on Lizzie's cheeks, was inexistent as she hesitantly accepted the gift. You could tell she was sporting a smile you had seen her do whenever she was uncomfortable during interviews.
It gave you the kick to stop whatever this was you were doing. You then decided not to torture her anymore with how forward you were. It was clear she didn't want anything to do with you. That you were just mere friends in passing. That that date was only that. Nothing more.
"Lizzie!" someone called her from afar, apparently saving her from this awkward interaction. Saving you both.
"Shoot, sorry, Y/n," she said with an apologetic smile. "I have to leave, but thank you again for this. You're too sweet for this world."
You forced a huge smile her way. "Yeah, no worries. See you later."
BUT YOU had avoided her later. You had avoided them. And through the days that followed, you began distancing yourself from the cast and crew, knowing now what they had been talking behind your back. You just went to the studio to help work with the script then went back straight home. No more small talks in the hallway as you passed by them, occasionally wearing a hoodie over your face, wishing it was Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility.
At nights, you stared at the photos of the two of you together during production and even that one dinner date you had at a private restaurant, wondering how two individuals went from these to complete strangers.
You couldn't help but wonder if Lizzie has missed you at all. But when you glanced at her from a distance whenever you couldn't avoid not coming to the studio, laughing and making vlog with her co-stars and makeup artists, you could feel she was glad she dodged a bullet that was you. That she almost went out with someone like you, someone who couldn't be trusted.
You had even stopped eating your favorite cheesecake, knowing it would only remind you of her. Lesson learned. Never suggest your favorites to anyone.
THAT was when you started hanging out with Emma Watson, whom you had gotten closer as you were part of her writing crew in another film you were working for.
She had well defined cheekbones and chocolate brown eyes. But what stood out the most was her English accent. Sometimes, you just wanted to listen to her talk all day.
Emma already knew the rumors about you, and called them bullshit. Maybe it was the British in her, but she told you she didn't care about anyone's past other than first impressions. Besides, if she weren't a fan of your works, she wouldn't have given a chance to know you.
When she revealed to you she liked girls too, you grew more comfortable around her.
You also started to make friends with the other film's crew, and maybe that was what you needed, what you were missing. You no longer felt sad or lonely whenever you were around them. And having to fit two jobs in a day, it felt different having something to look forward to whenever you finished working for Lizzie's film. Good kind of different.
"WAIT, you're already leaving? Are you not going with us?" your director friend asked the moment he saw you packing things up, preparing to leave.
"What do you mean?"
"Liz invited the whole cast and crew for a housewarming party at her new house," he replied.
You had no idea but who were you to receive first invitation from her in the first place. You were a nobody.
"Oh I . . . I actually am needed to get this edit reviewed," you said, easily making up an excuse. Although technically, it wasn't a lie.
"That's a bummer. I was pretty sure Liz said to invite you too." He sighed. "Well, don't work yourself too hard, Y/n."
You only smiled back as you left, staying out of sight from others, keeping distance away from the lobby where you could see the whole cast chatting as they waited for the car service to get to Lizzie's house. And for a brief moment, you caught sight of the woman who once captured your heart, broke it and left to rot. Elizabeth looked so beautiful and fresh even after a day's production, and she was wearing that jacket she stole from you that very first day.
"HAVE you ever loved someone?"
You had been staring at your notifications, watching for what seemed like hours at Lizzie's messages asking where you were and why you weren't at her housewarming party.
You didn't even noticed Emma had asked you a question until she nudged your shoulder.
"Sorry, what?" you asked, slipping your phone into your pocket.
"I asked if you've ever loved someone? Any lovers? Girlfriends? Boyfriend? Flings?" she asked teasingly, "It's just I haven't seen you around with anyone."
"I mean, you've heard the rumors—"
"Fuck all the rumors, I'm not blind, Y/n," Emma interrupted. "You're actually gorgeous. It could cause a scandal."
Avoiding the girl's gaze, you laughed at her. "What are you suggesting?"
There was complete silence, making you look back at Emma deep in thoughts.
"What do you say about you becoming my girlfriend?"
"What?"
"It's just for PR stuff and all," she reasoned. "And for promoting this movie."
"Promoting? They'd hate you. They'd hate me more."
"At least, it would be a distraction from the public. I haven't actually come out as gay but I've provided signs, yet people just turn a blind eye. And this will help confirm my sexuality. If they hated me for dating the rumored you, they'd hate me less for being gay."
You fell silent as you thought about it.
"My PR manager will pay you, of course. You're saving up for a house, right? I want to help you."
Then she looked at her hands on her lap, nervous. "Besides, you're the only one I felt comfortable doing this with." She then glanced back at you. "So . . . Are you with me?"
WHEN you started going out with Emma publicly, the photos of you together holding hands in public immediately spread through the news and gossip channels. You started to become famous, more on the bad side though, of how you were only using Emma again for your selfish reasons and how stupid Emma was for dating you.
At least, there were only a few articles about how disappointed they were Emma turned out to be gay. People were more disappointed she was dating a parasite.
IT WAS almost a month after when you received a missed call from your ex girlfriend Rooney. And she had called you multiple times until you blocked her number. And when she figured out you blocked her, she sent you numerous emails.
Emma was with you as you anxiously worked through the next scene's script.
"You okay?" Emma asked, her hand on your shoulder made you jump on your seat. "Sorry."
"It's okay," you managed to reply.
"What are you worrying about?"
You hesitated, frown growing deeper. "It's just . . . I think my ex girlfriend will finally end my career."
"How?"
"She's going to file a case against me," you said, almost in tears.
"Is that what you think she's going to do?" She chuckled softly.
"What are you giggling about? It's not funny."
"Sorry," she went on still laughing, "but you have to see this."
Apparently, Rooney had posted a public apology addressed to you, clearing you out, redeeming your image, and admitting it was her jealousy that ended your relationship, that she was willing to destroy her career in exchange for yours. And that she wanted so badly to talk to you if you'd only let her.
It felt like a relief as you saw the ones who reposted the post, as you read the comments from people defending you and supporting you, that Emma was a better choice than Rooney. It felt like the weight of the world was taken off your shoulder.
Emma then wrapped her arms around you as you sobbed into her chest. And she only let you.
Some weeks later, Emma asked you out on a date. A real date, saying she was willing to try. Maybe it was Rooney's post that made her trust you. Maybe she was just scared. But you also wanted to try it with her.
Rooney eventually stopped contacting you. The damage has already been done. One day, you may be able to forgive her. But never to forget.
MAYBE the public apology was what made Lizzie finally approached you during the last few days in the production. She brought you a gift, the cheesecake that used to be your favorite. Now, you didn't like how too sweet it was, wanting nothing more than to savor Cornish pasty introduced by your girlfriend Emma.
"Hey, Y/n," she greeted. "I . . . I brought you this."
"Thank you, Lizzie," you said, accepting with haste.
There was awkward silence as she placed her hands inside the pockets of her jeans. "Last day, huh? You want to go for sushi later? My treat."
And maybe it really was the public post Rooney made that made her finally talk to you, as if she was still the same person she was the first time you met. And as if you were still interested in her as you were months ago.
"Sorry, I have to meet Em for dinner tonight," you said, smiling apologetically.
"It's fine, it's fine," she said, brushing you off with a forced chuckle. "So, it's true you two are dating, huh?"
You nodded, avoiding the brunette's gaze. "Yeah, it is."
"She doesn't know how lucky she is."
You paused, wondering why you were no longer feeling any butterflies in your stomach whenever she was around. "I'm the lucky one, actually. Goodnight, Elizabeth."
"G-Goodnight, Y/n."
Like you said, the damage was already done.
77 notes · View notes
mins-fins · 2 days
Text
self control — [ mark lee — 엔시티. ]
where no matter how stubborn he may be, it's only you that mark lee really wants.. | now playing ❅
Tumblr media
people tend to do the worst of things to cope when they're unhappy.
for mark, it's many things. scribbling down equally depressive song lyrics, smoking, retreating himself from everyone, drinking, the occasional late night hookup..
and also standing in front of his ex boyfriends door at eleven pm.
listen, mark isn't an easy guy. you two have already been broken up for months, it isn't as if this is some planned decision, it's a spare of the moment arbitration that mark would've never made if he was in his right mind.
but the thing is, he is in his right mind. it's not like he's drunk or high, he could use the excuse that his feet dragged him all the way over here, yet you would never take that with any sort of reason. it was either this or sinking back into his work, which he doesn't exactly want to do.
he contemplates as he stares at your door, just fucking brown hard wood. nothing special. he clears his throat as he raises his fist to land a knock, his anxiety rising as silence again fills the hallway.
he hears shuffling behind other doors, jazz music faintly playing, a few neighbors arguing, but it's all tuned out in favor of the the footsteps rapidly approaching behind your door. he thinks he might have enough time to ru—
"..oh, hi".
your tone is inquiring, and mark understands why. seeing your ex in front of your door after three months of simply silence is strange, and there's nothing behind your eyes but pure confusion.
mark stares with his big eyes bugged out freakishly, he blinks as he collects the words he so desperately rehearsed before deciding to knock your door. "uh— hi, i'm sorry i don't know why.."
he can't speak, because you're looking at him with those eyes. it's really hard to focus when everything is happening.
"can we talk?"
seamless segway, your eyes drag over mark's entire figure, he tenses up in a way he knows you can clearly sense. "sure" you whisper, face scrunching at your tone.
mark enters and immediately wants to shrink. he likes your place, he always has loved your place, it's why he preferred going to you in comparison to you going to him. the expanse of a space holds solace, memories, and many moments of drunk sobbing that mark's lips take an upturn at.
"so why do you want to talk?"
oh, right, his excuse, mark's lips take a downturn. his hands shove into his pockets as he rocks back and forth on his heels, his tongue coming to lick at his lips. it's so strange to see you act so normal,
okay so maybe averting eyes and cheeks that are tinted red can't be described as 'normal' around your ex.
"i don't, i lied and i didn't know what to say when i saw you actually opened your door for me".
you pause, then, you chuckle, head topping downward as your gaze laser focuses on the floor. "that's funny.."
"yeah".
good god it's awkward.
you shrug your shoulders, spinning on your heel as you motion towards the kitchen. "do you want hot chocolate?"
mark shakes his head silently, settling onto your couch, quickly sinking into the comfortable cushions.
you blink, sighing as you settle beside him, the air again growing awkward as you place your hands into your lap, exhaustion clear in your eyes.
"is this weird?"
"after three months yeah" you snicker at your own words. "i probably would've understood if you came around like a few weeks after? but this was really random.."
"yeah".
"so what gives?"
"i.."
i missed you, no i miss you, i want you so bad, i'm sorry for overworking myself then dismissing your worries, random people at bars can't compare to you y/n, i want you back.
"i don't know".
you hum, kissing your teeth.
mark intently watches the movement of your lips and absolutely hates himself for doing so.
"it's not normal to randomly show up at your exes place, mark".
you didn't have to tell mark that, he opts to glance away on his shame. you relax your back against the cushion, biting the inside of your cheek. "so either you want me back.. or you're going to assassinante me".
oh well, you've always been good at reading mark's mind.
mark straightens his posture, scooting closer. "i miss you" he whispers, sucking his teeth at his own words. he sounds like some desperate loser who never got over his ex, oh wait.. that is what he is.
who cares? it's past ten o'clock, being ashamed of his actions is simply not needed. "a lot.. it's embarrassing".
"not really that embarrassing if you just told me right now".
mark is very desperate, his hands find purchase on your legs. you stare, and he stares back, eye contact much too difficult to avoid. "i don't know, it still kinda is.." he draws shapes into your pants, eyes flitting towards your lips.
how obvious can he be?
his eyes again widen exponentially as you catch him staring bright as day. well, he threw shame out of the window a long long time ago.
"did you miss me too?"
you contemplate on your words, a trial that only gets the anxiety back up on mark's tail. his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, a certain look in his eye that you seem to find amusing.
mark begins chewing on his lip as he impatiently awaits an answer, maybe he should shout, or scream, or.. something, it's embarrassing how spontaneous his responses are.
and he's about to scream, but you decide to answer his question by leaning forward, soft lips pressing against his.
they've always been soft, well chapped, a smooth force that seem to contrast with his own. he unfortunately can't keep his composure, letting his arms come up to wrap around your neck as you fall backward, mark messily staggering into your lap as he keeps you two pressed together.
it would be an understatement to say that he's addicted, your hands slide down towards his hips, and he sighs against your lips. he tugs you closer, as if the heat radiating from you isn't enough, as if he wants to be one with you.
his left hand comes down to cradle the side of your face, nothing else mattering. maybe your neighbors have begun fighting again, the women across the hall is baking chocolate chip cookies, your package might've arrived just now, but fuck it, who cares? mark knows he doesn't.
the only reason for separation is air, but mark could fathom kissing you until he ran out of breath, his fingers beginning to play with the hem of your shirt as he watches the rise and fall of your chest.
"yeah" your voice has a rasp to it that makes mark dizzy for a second. "missed you too".
mark parts his lips, staring down at yours. his eyes are blown wide, sparkling under the light of the lamp which barely illuminates the living room. "then maybe you should kiss me again".
you snort, but you oblige once more, allowing for mark to capture his soft lips once again. they taste like cherries, oh you never change, mark is positively going crazy. after a month of shady motel rooms including people he can barely remember, mark could never get you out of his mind.
mark tugs at your bottom lip, another small breath falling from his lips. he doesn't like cherries much, he just likes how they taste on your lips.
"you know exes don't do this right?"
mark pinches your collarbone, drawing a wince. "you know how to ruin the mood you.."
he can't exactly collect his words, your smile is taunting. "just don't talk about it".
"then we'll have to awkwardly talk in the morning".
mark shakes his head, cheeks a soft rose red. "who cares? were doing this now".
he isn't exactly sure why he's so.. determined, per say, but maybe kissing just draws something different from him. "so you want to sleep with me then not talk about tomorrow morning?"
"who cares about tomorrow? i'm focusing on right now".
you again decide to snicker, resting your forehead on mark's chest. you clearly find his words extremely amusing, but your fingers begin caressing under his shirt, the ministrations as comforting as they are calming.
"hey," mark softly calls out, eyes lidded heavily. "you know if we don't do this right now, i could die, and do you want me to die without getting in my pants one last time?"
how stupid, mark sees it in the way you laugh. "you're ridiculous".
"but i'm right".
you roll your eyes, still completely smitten. "okay, sure" you then pull him closer. "since you want me so bad".
mark attempts his best scowl. "you're so full of yourself".
your smile is beautiful, but mark still has to feign vexation at the sight. "and you talk too much".
"oh and what are you going to do? shut me u—"
mark yelps as you decide to turn the tables, now having him be the one under you. "yea, gladly".
and maybe mark isn't so against that idea.
55 notes · View notes
pilot-boi · 19 hours
Note
White Knight Time Travel idea : People are suspecting..
Jaune and Weiss are at the Vytal Festival , each one with their respective teams , their mission has gone..well.. so far. Even without trying to change so much some things never change like Team CVFY and Prof.Port saving the city or Ruby meeting Penny...
But that doesn't matter compared to the titanic work they would have to do during this specific moment..it was now or never
~Weiss Side~
Ruby:WE DID IIIT!!!!....Anyone esle is starving?....
Weiss listened to Ruby and Blake's chat from the side , each time they have this small moments the more she thinks how everyone took Beacon's days from granted
Having to relieve the fight against Team ABRN made her notice how..unprepared they were ; even herself with her "Competent" perfomance wasn't still not enough to face that monster..
Weiss..
The Grimm entering Beacon..
Weiss..
The Witch's inner circle playing right under their noses..
WEISS..
Pyrrha and Penny along many other students being casualties of the..
WEISSS!
Weiss:W-W-What?!
Yang: Your scroll is ringing , shouldn't you answer it?
Weiss noticed her scroll , the contact named "FATHER"..
Right..her time at Beacon was almost up..
Weiss:I will call him later , thanks for making me know Yang..
The Blonde Brawler has noticed her friend weird..this last few day , she can't say why..but it's there , spacing out of chats most of the time or reacting to certain words like Destiny , Maiden or even mentioning locations like Haven Academy can get her all shaky
Right now Ice Queen is looking at her Sis talking with Emerald and her silent friend like she's trying way too hard to keep herself civil , her face may not show it but that tense posture and hands behind shouted something was wrong
And to say the last person she saw acting this way her Dad after..her Supermom left was all she needed to know , Ice Queen's hiding something and she will find out
~Jaune's side~
Jaune did miss Beacon , the academy.. , but coming right back wouldn't make it any better..quite the contrary it shows him how somethings must remain as memories..
The Vytal Festival just started and the mood seems festive enough for him to enjoy a little. Children playing around , teens being themselves truly a moment to breathe fresh air
Miss : Gather around as I tell the story of the Girl who fell through the World!
Jaune tenses hearing that , it's just a woman reading a story to a bunch of kids..nothing dangerous..
Yet..
He takes a look at his armour , clean not rusted..his face is still young and Crocea Mors is still complete..
Ren: Jaune?
Jaune:W-What?!
Nora: You have been standing there for a while , did the story peak your interest? Alyx's story is a classic! The Curious Cat is my favorite character! So mischevious!
If looks could kill , Nora's smile would have been erased a while ago..
Jaune:That Cat is nothing but troubles..
Nora:What? Don't tell me you are a fan of the Red Prince? Or the Rusted Knight?
Sensing hostility , Ren tried to change the topic..
Ren:Why don't we go with Pyrrha? She's saved us a nice spot in that Mistralian restaurant.
Both teammates agree , Nora leaves because she has won another petty argument..but Jaune seemed so personal about it..The Girl who fell through the World is just a Children's story..why is he so defensive about it?
Lie Ren is someone who can read the room quite well and to his knowledge..there's something wrong with Jaune..
He acts like..an adult sometimes , there's nothing wrong with that but it seems off..
Even their stategies , they are a group of Four , Team JNPR..but Jaune always acts like only Nora and him are part of the team
Ren even hears his silent sobs when he has nightmares , the words "Cinder" "Kill" "Penny" "Pyrrha" is all he has as evidence , trying to make sense of said word it would be something like
Cinder will kill Pyrrha and Penny
That sounded so..dumb , Cinder is a student along her team but he would ask Jaune later right now they have a fight to win
👀👀👀
So many of these WK Time travel asks are from their POV, I LOVE this look into their friends’ view
41 notes · View notes
caitchercatlady · 2 days
Text
Not Having a Good Time
-Diasomnia Version
Tumblr media
Malleus Draconia
Were you to ask your friends what or how it is to be lonely, Malleus would be the first to know the answer, but he'd be the last to respond. (No, that has nothing to do with the last arrival or no show trope.) Malleus is not one to express his negative emotions. Most times, they don't bother him so often. However, when he sees you down and out, he can't help but want to do something about it. He finds you coming home from the main campus as usual, and as you two meet for your daily meeting, he confronts you about your usual behavior. Hesitantly, you explain the week's stresses to him, and it's had you bothered for a while. You feel ashamed that Malleus had to see it, so you had hoped to stargaze to help releax.
"Quite frankly, Child of Man, it appears we are both bothered this evening. Shall we take a stroll together as we indulge in the night air? I know a place to get a better view of the stars."
You two stick together as you walk around Night Raven's campus. If it were a kinda chilly evening on the island, Malleus will remove his large uniform jacket and wrap it around you to keep you warm. Whatever is making you the most comfortable, Malleus keeps his attention on the little things to make the comfort happen.
Tumblr media
Lilia Vanrouge
You were not in the mood for any out-of-nowhere surprises, but unfortunately for you, Lilia is all that. You were at dinner by yourself as all of your friends were elsewhere. You keep poking at your food with no motivation to eat any of it. Since he noticed you weren't exactly busy, Lilia thought it was the first time to say, "Hi." He classically upside-downs himself from the chandelier, which scares the living crud out of you, even more than usual. Lilia returns to ground and apologizes immediately. Since making you laugh or smile didn't work in that way, he questions what has gotten into you today. You weren't sure how to answer since he's the most senior of all of your classmates. Furthermore, after the scare you just had, you really didn't feel like talking about your problems. Lilia deeply sighs and says:
"Listen, Yuu, I don't know what's going on, and I believe it would help the both of us if you opened up a little. I won't tell anyone. This conversation is just between the two of us."
If Lilia says so, you let out your frustrations stronger than you usually would. It's a little frightening, even for you. However, this is Lilia you're talking to. A raise of voice is not going to scare this fae warrior. In fact, as you regain your breathing after ranting, Lila puts his hand on your head, ruffling your hair as he chuckles warmly. He reminds you that you don't need to keep your problems to yourself and that letting it out will set you the most free. He asks if you would like to talk about it some more while you eat, and you agree to the invitation. All this talking has made you more hungry, much to Lilia's delight.
Tumblr media
Silver
Riddle's surprise tutoring session not only ruined Ace and Deuce's private time, it also ruined the hangout that you had been planning with them for days. To say that you're pissed is an understatement. You three have been looking forward to letting all the class work go after a long week, but then, there it goes. You get a text from Silver, reading that he had been hearing from Riddle during Equestrian Club that he's not too thrilled with his freshmen about flunking the latest test, so he decided to hold a tutoring session to fix that problem. He figured that Ace and Deuce were a part of that session, and he apologizes for your plans being interfered.
If it's any help to you at all, he invites you out on a horse riding trip around campus. Silver asks for you to come at 4:45pm since that's when both Riddle and Sebek would be gone from the stables. You meet him not a minute earlier than that with Silver and his horse ready for riding. He helps you up, and you're already on your way. You tell Silver that you're surprised that he hasn't returned to his dorm yet for a nap after a busy school week. Silver replies:
"Riding helps me stay awake for the evening. Furthermore, I missed having time to myself, especially during club. You are not interfering at all if that is what you're afraid of. Let me show you the trail."
Silver commands his horse to head into the forest. The run of the horse kicks up the dirt on the forest path, making the smell of nature more pungent. The late afternoon breeze hits your face like a pillow fight, which is strangely comforting. A few minutes of riding later and the horse takes you and Silver to the cliffside at the edge of the woods. The skies were shimmering on top of the ocean's surface. It was a beautiful, relaxing sight. Silver helps you down from the horse as you go relax under a tree to watch the approaching sunset.
Tumblr media
Sebek Zigvolt
After the stressful school week you just beat, you wanted to just go home and relax, but you then remembered that you promised yourself to eat better. While at the same time, you really didn't have the energy to cook something time consuming. You're also late on receiving your allowance, so getting the expensive items is off the table. You decide to text your friends any ideas they had on cheap dinners to make. You hate to go into Sam's store without an idea in mind. However, you get a quick response from an unlikely source.
Sebek tells you to buy a bag of rice, a stalk of celery, and one chicken breast and immediately meet him back at Ramshackle. Sebek coming to you? That's a first, but you don't question it. You fetch the goods and you return to your dorm to see Sebek on the porch just as he said in the text. You don't have time to waste. He's got a recipe to teach you. You didn't even know Sebek knew how to cook, but he explains that if he, Silver, and Malleus wanted to eat good food for the rest of their lives, they had to teach themselves how to cook properly.
"You need to learn how to cook, right, human? Why are you standing so far? COME! You need teaching, so you can do this for yourself!"
Like a soldier in lineup, you come at Sebek's command as he instructs you verbally and physically how to make this rice, celery, and chicken dish. He also explains that it's easy to store for leftovers in the future, so if you don't feel like cooking, you have it right in your fridge to warm up and eat. It doesn't take long to cook either, so he helps prepare the plates and you two will enjoy the dish together. You promise that when you learn how to make this for yourself that you'll have Sebek come over to test it for you. He blushes and tries to brush it off as nothing, but he hasn't been invited much either, so maybe it wouldn't hurt as a compliment.
33 notes · View notes
milehighmegs · 3 days
Text
Good Omens Playlists
So I've seen some pretty wonderful Good Omens playlists on Pinterest, most of which are based on music in the show (especially Queen, natch), songs that say how Zira & Crowley feel about one another or describe them as characters.
In the wake (double meaning totally intended) of S2, I wondered: how do they feel about each other NOW? We've all been there. The sad love songs, the sleeping all day, entire pints of ice cream while watching romcoms... but mostly the recounting of how it all could've gone so wrong, what we wished we'd said & done, and what we wish we could say now.
Since Zira & Crowley definitely have communication issues (Nina & Maggie were SPOT ON in their convo with Crowley), I imagine they would have an easier time telling each other their feelings through other means. I'll admit, there's a bias here: this is what I would do, so of course I project onto these characters. But isn't that the beauty of fan art? We put ourselves into the work/live vicariously through them because we have such a damned hard time saying want we want & need and how we feel in plain language? Mostly because such complex feelings are REALLY REALLY hard to explain to ourselves, let alone to another person. But art- writing, music, imagery- can say what we struggle to put into more direct words. Music is an enormous part of who I am, so I often find that the songs of others say perfectly what I feel I never could.
On that note (pun only slightly intended), I've created 3 playlists: one for Crowley, one for Zira, and one for the both of them. The individual playlists are meant to reflect the 5 stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance. There are elements of other stages within the songs meant to correspond to a particular stage, even coming full circle (it seems like acceptance, but there's a hint of denial in there, etc.). The joint playlist is of songs I imagine would make the memories of each other start to creep in (or totally gobsmack them in the feels) when they hear them, or things they wished they'd said/want to say to each other.
So without further ado, here are the playlists:
Crowley's Heartbroken Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6LyYnip9XuZqcRIEsiDSwz
Zira's Heartbroken Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3YUi13sTfPSR99R1dB2XVY
AziraCrow's Heartbroken Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/48NpfV42Y8LTVSFsui8zl2
For those of you who don't have Spotify, here's what's on the playlists:
Crowley 'Never Tear Us Apart' - INXS 'Bad Romance' - Lady Gaga 'Love Don't Live Here Anymore' - Madonna 'Cosmic Love' - Florence + the Machine 'As It Was' - Hozier 'I Found' - Amber Run 'Wicked Game' - Chris Isaac 'Dancing On My Own' - Calum Scott 'Halo' - Depeche Mode 'Falling' - The Civil Wars
Zira 'i love you' - Billie Eilish 'And I Am Telling You' - Jennifer Hudson 'You'll See' - Madonna 'Somebody That I Used To Know' - Gotye 'Someone Like You' - Adele 'Boys Don't Cry' - The Cure 'Un-break My Heart' - Toni Braxton 'For No One' - The Beatles 'Comfort' - Julia Jacklin 'I Will Always Love You' - Whitney Houston
AziraCrow 'I Have Nothing' - Whitney Houston 'Nothing Compares 2 U' - Sinead O'Connor 'Torn' - Natalie Imbruglia 'Hopelessly Devoted to You' - Olivia Newton John 'In A Lonely Place' - Bush, the Tricky Remix 'With Or Without You' - U2 'Don't Let Go (Love)' - En Vogue
'Don't Speak' - No Doubt 'Here With Me' - Dido
A note on the playlists: I know that Zira wouldn't listen to most of this if any, and Crowley would outwardly cringe just thinking about some of these. The point wasn't to choose songs that they'd go out of their way to hear, it was to capture the feelings they'd be going through. Crowley's songs are a bit darker: more minor keys, moodier atmosphere, etc., while Zira's are more sad but lighter & gentler (except maybe 'And I Am Telling You'; that's a straight-up "aww HELL NO YOU AIN'T GONNA FUCK THIS UP THIS IS HAPPENING YOU KNOW WE BELONG TOGETHER"... well, the song says it pretty well).
I 'd love to hear any thoughts about this, agree or disagree, love or loathe, hate that you love it... What would you put into a ZiraCrow playlist?
Hope you enjoy it!
23 notes · View notes
v-h-lupin · 1 day
Text
Maurauders Era Characters if they were Demigods (with explanations)
ive been listening to Epic and rereadng my harry potter writing (really trying to work on my fanfic, im just stretched kinda thin)
anyway
this is pt. 1 because I will be doing more, and golden trio era characters too
Tumblr media
Remus Lupin:
This boy is the most Son of Athena kid i have ever seen in my entire life look at him He is so smart in so many different ways I just he's so quick witted and brave, and he was so ready to throw himself into battle. strategizing to use his unique attributes even when his superiors (who had political leanings) told him otherwise. But his intellect doesn't mean he has a lack of empathy he's also really crafty but not in the "hot gluing pieces of felt in the basement" type of crafty he's just got such a good mind
Tumblr media
James Potter:
Ok ok so hear me out Hermes. Hermes Hermes Hermes. Hermes is the god of so many things-- Jack of all trades, really, and James is just so damn good at everything he does. He's also incredibly fast on a broom. He makes friends wherever he goes (pretty fitting if your father is the god of travellers) and is mischevious without dipping into the villain area (most of the time).
Tumblr media
Sirius Black:
Aphrodite. Hands down. Did not have to think when I said this. Everyone at school is fully aware that he is attractive and he can charm almost anyone. he is very charismatic. He can speak French and I BELIEVE Italian... ok it just... makes sense to me... (btw regulus will be in pt. 2)
Tumblr media
Peter Pettigrew:
Also Hermes. Let me explain-- Beyond the fact that it would justify him feeling closer to James, we can use the other side of the Hermes coin for this. Hermes is the god of pretty much anything you encounter on the road. Hermes is not evil or anything-- but he does technically protect thieves and liars. Peter and James have parallels that make me believe both of them would be sons of Hermes, but their hearts were different.
Tumblr media
Lily Evans:
This one was hard. I was thinking Demeter- then Apollo- then Athena- Hestia isnt an option but like, it might fit if it was-- I'm gonna say Athena because while YES, she does learn healing magic, she's also just incredibly bright in general. She and Remus are both brainchildren ok She's also very witty in her comebacks and stubborn-- im referring to her behavior in general, not just when it comes to james. For example, even though Petunia hated her, she still was so determined to have a good relationship with her sister.
Tumblr media
Mary MacDonald:
OO, oo, i want to say Aphrodite, but then I remember that sirius is aphrodite and that would be WEIRD but if sirius was anyone elses kid, mary would be an aphrodite kid, i just, like? look at her. she celebrates her femininity, she's so confident in herself, i love her
other than aphrodite, I might say... Hebe. Seems like a deep reach, but she's the goddess of youth.
Tumblr media
Marlene McKinnon:
APOLLO. Apollo. Apollo. Marlene has always wanted to be a healer. She's also a great flyer. I don't know what else to say about it but like- Apollo? yes, yes
22 notes · View notes
fountainpenguin · 1 day
Note
I'm sorry if I'm annoying you. But I can't get over you City Lights AU Dale. The man looks like he has all the issues and is hanging on by the thinnest thread. One more problem and he will just fully collapse.
😂 I'm eating your asks like sandwich.
Tumblr media
^ He is overworking himself in a desperate attempt to make peace with the fact that he never got to hear his late father say "You did everything I ever asked without complaint; you are such a good son and you've made me so proud."
Push him near a goalpost and he'll panic and kick it across the room. We don't know how to process feelings of achievement and pride in this family. Those are Bad Emotions that will get the company steamrolled by competitors... You could lose everything... Is that how you want to be remembered?
I've been waffling on whether to share this WIP or withhold it for in-the-moment drama, but just for you... a treat.
His back ached from hunching; his feet stung from dirt. Vicky didn’t leave me down there; she always came back. “Do you know what that means?” Without waiting for an answer, Dale grabbed Timmy’s shoulder with one hand and pumped his fist with the other. “I’m still her bestie! She didn’t replace me!” “She locked you in a cellar for 7 years,” Timmy started, but Dale cut him off by slamming the bathroom door. And he laughed at nothing, clutching fingers in his hair, because… He really had to talk to her. They could clear this whole mess up! Now, let’s get one thing laid out crystal-flat. Dale knew Vicky had locked him up down in Dimmsdale’s tunnels, sure. He wasn’t stupid. But she wouldn’t have done that at all if he hadn’t threatened to tell untrustworthy adults about The Accident that kicked the lemonade business off in the first place, and it wasn’t her fault he’d been a disloyal friend. He really put her in a bad position there- That can’t be denied. Dale dragged his hands down his face (and dragged his butt down the door) until he thumped on freeze-dried tile. His toes gripped the bathmat. He wrapped his arms around his knees. I’m sorry. I’m sorry… I'll be better. I'm ready to listen now.
Prompt #96 - "You Deserve It"
My terrible headcanon is that if it took 7 years for Dale to work up the courage to open a trapdoor and crawl out, and he didn't file charges severe enough to stop Vicky from babysitting Timmy, he is not the kind of person who would stop hanging out with her SDLFKJ.
Also, here's a sketch I made for this post. I opted not to post it there, but I think it captures My Vision really well:
Tumblr media
Toxic ex-BFFs with a very weird dynamic post-lemon pit torture, gossip buddies, and a secret 3rd thing... silly little guys.
He hates the fighting, but he craves the structure... Being nice to Vicky is the safe option... It's such big "Get real, Dale- No one will ever want to deal with you and your problems; I'm the only one who can put up with your baggage" vibes...
He can tolerate the bruises; he can make little exceptions; friends forgive each other and not forgiving her would mean throwing away the 3.5 years they had before the Real Trouble Began... Do u understand...
I've been brainstorming another WIP of Dale fantasizing about terrible things he wants to do to Vicky, but I'm not sure I'll actually write that one because it's pretty dark SLKDFJ
Listen, I just want Dale to slam Vicky against a wall and it turns out Mark was shapeshifted as her handbag and OH, HE PROTEC-
It's extremely important to me that Dale is nice and sympathetic enough that Dev believes if he can just pry his dad away from business, they can play and have fun. Dale being "sweet and engaging and loving" around his wife and during the holidays has done a NUMBER on Dev's psyche.
17 notes · View notes
freetheworms · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
the mystery of the eccles cakes: solved
big love to @cruciatusforeplay for the comic idea and @sevdrag for the crowley dialogue MWAH
81 notes · View notes
sherlock-is-ace · 5 months
Text
.
#oh wow...#i just had an oh shit fuck moment#wow#i usually complain about the one therapist i had in my entire life and how she wouldn't just listen to what i was saying#if it didn't fit her textbook definition of whatever she was thinking at the time#and how i talked to her about my anxiety and how that made me feel and she would only focus on how i acted#so the example i gave her was the one time i went into a shop to buy something by myself#because my mom didn't want to go in for me and arguing with my mom in front of the shop in public and then inevitably have to#go in myself either way was way worse to me#because of the embarrassement of arguing in public. the fact that my mom was gonna spend the entire walk home telling me how i have to#''just suck it up and learn and just overcome my anxiety because i don't have a problem'' or whatever#and then having to go into the shop where the lady had been watching me from inside the entire time how i clearly didn't want to go in#and possibly be even more awkward with teary eyes because of the anxiety and awkwardness i already bring to the table any day...#all of those things that were going inside my head were trumped by the fact that i did go in and did buy what i needed#although my heart was coming out of my chest the entire time... all that didn't matter to my therapist because in her words:#''if you had anxiety. you simply wouldn't have gone in''#which is ridiculous#but anyways... i just had an epiphany... that was masking wasn't it?#forcing myself to do something that brings me major discomfort to make my mother and the shop lady not judge me?#pretend i'm a normal human being just doing normal things instead of someone who's about to have a heart attack buying embroidery thread?#panicking the entire time because i wasn't prepeared and hadn't scripted the entire transaction in my head?#yet still going in and putting on my ''normal person'' mask to try to seem like i wasn't just dying seconds ago (and still was)?#isn't that literally what masking is?!#and the ''autism specialist'' ass therapist was like ''if you did it then you don't have a problem''#when i'm literally telling her how much of a problem it actually WAS?!#you know what's the best part about all this#that when i told my mom after i left that therapist that she didn't listen to me because [insert everything above]#my mom's response was ''well sometimes therapist will say things that you don't want to hear but you have to accept them''....#same woman who's always saying how much she hates therapists because they ''will say whatever and pretend they know shit''#ok so it's only The Truth when I tell you it isn't...
9 notes · View notes
cosmogyros · 2 months
Text
I swear to God, modern music production is so FLAT that it physically hurts to listen to. There's no spatial depth to it, no air, no sense of this music actually being performed in a real three-dimensional space. Please can we bring back breath and air and space in music production?
#i've been trying to translate this feeling into words for months and i know i still haven't succeeded#this post is a weak attempt at saying what i mean. but it doesn't achieve that goal very well#i just... i don't have any better words right now#does anyone else know what i mean?#when there's a beat of silence in the middle of a song these days#the silence sounds just as 'dead' as if the track had ended.#silence can be audible and almost tangible... you know?#it can have a certain dimensionality and realness to it#but all of that gets edited out of most music nowadays.#and another thing: i don't know if it's over-mastering or what#but the sound is often almost as dead as the silence#like a butterfly trapped flat under glass#every sound comes across as being exactly the same physical distance from my ears#the sounds are all lined up jostling each other elbow to elbow and competing for the listener's attention#instead of being spread out all over the room - each one coming from a different place#i remember when you'd have two speakers; if one of them was broken you could sometimes only hear some of the instruments#because the others would normally have come through the broken speaker only.#SPACE. distance. physicality. ugh i could helplessly repeat these words all day and still not be able to express myself#don't mind the ranting of a grumpy old codger i guess#about music#tag rant#cosmo gyres#personal#text#my apologies - this post is extra autistic#my neurodivergency really comes out in the way i experience music#musicblogging
2 notes · View notes
medicinemane · 6 months
Text
I still argue that bleeping someone like Gorden Ramsey is bullshit so that people who love and find swearing fun can pretend that they didn't just hear him call someone a fucking donkey, because there was a bleep... like they don't know the exact word he used, like they didn't think it, and like they didn't have fun with it
Cause I bet you... any amount of money you want honestly, that if you asked Gorden Ramsey not to swear he just wouldn't... I don't think they ever bleep anything in shows where he's helping kids cook
No, people find swearing fun, it's entertaining... they just don't want to admit they like it because it's naughty
And to be clear I'm directly pointing to this and pointing to 'unalive' and drawing a line between them for how we got here
#you either don't swear or you do; bleeping is only for when no one's supposed to swear but it came out by accident#but 99% of the time; you can tell the producers wanted people to swear because their audience loves it#and at best they didn't bother telling them to keep it polite; and at worst they encouraged it#you know; I once when I was like 12 went with my mom to see Chuck D give a talk about stuff#and at the end when he went up he was like 'oh I'm so sorry; I didn't know there was a kid in the audience or I wouldn't have cussed'#and we assured him it wasn't a problem (didn't explain I'd know all of it since I was little)#(and I think to an extent even then I had a mentality of that I'd rather hear it how he was gonna say it normally)#but... he very clearly could have and would have simply kept a check on himself like everyone is capable of#and he clearly would have been more than happy to#it wasn't an 18+ event; it just was on a college and he expected adults only and talks how he talks#you can have zero naughty words most of the time... all you have to do is ask#and you can avoid serious conversations... it's polite to let people not be forced to engage with topics they don't want most of the time#hell; that's the whole point of trigger warnings#...I don't know; I'm forever fuming about this whole fucking topic#it's like a huge portion of humanity is willingly and gladly throwing shackles on#it's on thing not to say fuck; I respect the hell out of that#it's one thing to mind your words and subject; go for it#and it's also one thing not to want to listen to people swear#you know... I often do tone down how I feel like talking cause... I get some people following me might not like it... and I actually care#...it's just also... in the end this is my spot I dump bullshit out of my skull in a verbal vomit#so you get it how you get it... but like I get not wanting to hear it#but don't you fucking tell me you hate swearing and them sit their laughing at a bleeped bit from a show where someone's cursing up a storm#no you like swearing but you're just being a shifty self righteous prick that's pretending you don't to feel smug#and don't talk about death if you don't want to#but don't say 'unalive'; not unless you're meaning the opposite of undead and coming up with something interesting#if you're saying 'unalive' you're just a spineless fucker who can't even manage saying you'll kill a zombie in minecraft#(or a fool who doesn't get what you're going along with)
0 notes
neverendingford · 7 months
Text
.
#tag talk#I keep getting customers being like “wow do you perform professionally?” and shit like that about my whistling and like..#no how do I tell you that I'm doing this for my own enjoyment and I don't think I'm better than anybody else I just think you all are worse#like. yeah I'm good at whistling that doesn't make me special or cool it just means everyone else sucks ass at whistling#seriously though. I hear people whistling breathy airy off-tune inconsistent note quality and I just.. ughhhhh stop stop stop stop stop#idk I'm tired of being told I should sell my crafts I should sell my art I should perform professionally I should make myself a spectacle#I'm not a thing to look at I'm not an object to pay for my soul isn't a thing you can buy on Etsy my habits aren't a show to purchase entry#I'm glad people enjoy listening to me whistle. I enjoy listening to me whistle. yeah sure I'm good at it. I just. ughhhh#don't tell me like you're leaving a comment underneath my YouTube video. I'm not content for you to consume.#ughhhh I hate public spectacle and maybe being a side show for every church in my parents' mission network had consequences on me#you know it took me until I was seventeen to finally say no when I was told to take off my shirt to display my scars to someone?#fifteen years of being a freak show. a news update. a creature to be looked at. disrobed and examined. displayed.#and I'm fucking done with it. I'm no one's toy I'm no one's property I'm no one's news letter topic.#I'm my own fucking person and I wish I could actually accept that instead of struggling with it constantly.#idk. maybe I have problems besides “you scored highly on our depression questionnaire so let's teach you coping methods”#maybe next time I have a therapy appointment I'll search my tag talks through jetblackcode and take notes ahead of time#I mean. I am blogging. that's like journaling. maybe I should actually use that to my advantage. go back and use the resources I have.#anyway that being said I've been practicing whistling the orange blossom special (Buddy Greene version) and it's very hard#but I'm getting much better at it.#I really started getting into harder stuff when I started college and would wander the campus whistling homestuck music (thanks Toby Fox)#Rondo Alla Turca is a particular favorite of mine cause it's got some really fun quick sequences#anyway if any of y'all have good recommendations on good chapstick/lipbalm brands that'd be sick because I need to start buying more#and like. find a really good brand that'll last longer on my lips and then just buy a case of it or something.#because I go through lip balm pretty quickly because your lips dry out when you whistle a lot and also I live in the desert so it's dry af
0 notes
lymtw · 3 months
Text
Toji can never shut up about you when his friends get him drunk. It's the one topic that never fails to be discussed when his friends manage to drag him away from your warm security for a night. Once the amount of alcohol he drank starts to hit and his overly chatty side is lured out, he spends the entire time talking about you, and the others just kind of listen to his ramblings and remain utterly shocked by how smitten he is. He talks so much about you, like he's trying to make up for the time he isn't spending with you.
It's always, "Shh... listen, shut the fuck up. Listen, listen, she smells so fucking good. Like she's fresh out the shower all the time" and "God... she purrs like a little kitten when I take her to bed" and "She's out of my league, but i'm not gonna fuck up the chance she gave me".
If it weren't for Shiu taking his phone, he would constantly be trying to reach you. Sometimes you're the one who calls when it gets late, just to see how things are going, and Shiu's always the one who picks up before he hands you over to Toji.
"Hey, Shiu! How is everything?"
"It's going pretty well, aside from Toji being a drunk mess." He scouts the area in search of your boyfriend and spots him next to another friend. Toji's all starry-eyed as he talks the poor man's ear off about you. "Wanna talk to him? He's been talking about you nonstop and it's starting to make the other guys jealous."
You giggle. "Sure. Let me talk to my idiot."
You can hear the commotion as well as the faint sound of Shiu alerting Toji of you being on the other end of the line.
"Heyyy, baby. You miss me? You need me?" You can hear the smile on his face. He's pacing back and forth as he waits for your voice to come back on the line.
The sound of Toji's voice makes your heart beat a little faster. It sounds like he made good use of his night out.
"You know I do, baby. Be safe, alright? Have Shiu send you home in a cab when you're ready to go and text me when you get home."
"I love you, ma. I fucking love you. I don't wanna be here anymore." He sighs, heavily. "Can I just go home, already? I've been trapped here for like five days now."
"I love you, Toji, and it hasn't been five days. More like five hours, but yeah, you can head home if you're done. Put Shiu back on the phone."
"No." He simply says, as he continues to pace around the crowded bar. "I miss you so much. I don't wanna see anyone else, anymore."
"Okay, baby. Tell Shiu you're ready to go. I'll see you tomorrow."
"I love you," he says once more before putting the phone down, leaving you to do the hanging up.
"Shiu, i'm leaving. I'm ready to go, man. She said okay and I... Well, I wanna go see her."
"You're not going over there like this," Shiu responds. "She's not gonna be able to handle you alone, right now. I'll call you a cab and you're going straight home."
He was so wrong about that last part. Toji got in the cab, and Shiu told the driver his address. He wouldn't ever find out about how Toji ended up redirecting the cab to your place.
"Psst, hey. I'll give you another ten bucks if you turn around and go to this address."
Without hesitation, the man accepted the money and dropped Toji off at your apartment. He slowly made his way to your front door, ringing the doorbell and knocking right after to make sure you hear him.
You put down the dish rag you were using to dry dishes and headed to the door. You looked through the peephole and as soon as you see Toji standing on your doorstep, you gasp. Your brows furrow in confusion as you continue to stare at him for couple more seconds, just to make sure it's actually him and not some random, sketchy man.
"Babyyy... Open. Your boyfriend is here." He knocks again, his fist like a mallet on your door.
"Toji, shh. Stop," you say, voice low. You quickly pull him into your apartment, dismissing his laugh as you shut and lock the door when you both make it in.
"Oh, baby." He smiles as you approach him again. "Baby, baby." He pulls you into an overly tight embrace and sways you side to side, effortlessly. You smell a mixture of alcohol and cologne on his shirt. "My pretty girl. Fuck, I missed you and your body." He buries his face into the crook of your neck and allows his hands to settle on your lower back. You hear him take a whiff of your scent before carrying on with his rambling. "I didn't even wanna be there..." he mumbles. "...but they stole me away and I-" He hums in confusion when he realizes you aren't reciprocating the hug and pulls your arms around him before putting his hands on your lower back again. "I'm just gonna say no next time. Those drinks were disgusting."
Normally, you reciprocating his affection wouldn't be an issue, but you're still stuck on how he's there, standing a couple feet from your kitchen and not at his place. You can hear his quiet, labored breaths beside your ear. His looming frame and the tightness of his arms around you bring a lot more reality to the situation.
"Let's get you ready for bed, okay?" You say to the giant who threatens to tip you over. You gently tug at his arms for him to release you and create some distance.
You take his hand and guide him to the bathroom first, where both of you do your nightly routines of brushing your teeth and washing your faces. He made a mess with the water when it came to washing the cleanser off his face, but you paid no mind to it as you grabbed a towel and dried it up.
You walked out of the bathroom and Toji was hot on your trail, toothbrush still in his mouth as he followed you into the kitchen. "I'm just grabbing some water. It'll just take a quick second." You smile as he continues to sluggishly brush his teeth. He pauses to respond.
"Why do you wanna leave me so bad? You didn't tell me you were leaving the bathroom. You were just gonna go and leave me alone in there?" he says, slightly muffled by the toothpaste that fills his mouth.
You laugh when some of the foam falls to the floor.
"Okay, okay. Let's go back to the bathroom together, then."
"You can't leave me on the couch," he says, out of nowhere, more suds falling onto the floor. You push him a little so that by the time he reaches the bathroom, at least some toothpaste remains in his mouth.
He dips his head and spits out the foam into the sink, rinsing his mouth after. You have to go back and tidy things up, like the cloud he didn't make sure was washed away before stepping away from the sink, and the bubbly spume that spilled out of his mouth in the kitchen and the hallway.
He's following you again, like a lost puppy because you didn't comment on what he said about not wanting to stay on the couch. He's quiet because you're quiet. You're not saying anything because you're focused on wiping up the cleaning spray and toothpaste mixture on the floor with a paper towel, and he's leaning against the wall, silently watching, feeling like you're mad at him.
You stand up straight and make your way to the trashcan before washing your hands. "Let's go, Toji," you say. He's looking at you like a scolded dog, reaching his hand out for you to hold. In his mind, if you take it, you can't be too mad at him. His chest feels so much lighter when your soft palm meets his. The heaviness is replaced with a racing heart as you take him to the room with you. You're not leading him to the couch like he thought you were going to.
"You're letting me sleep next to you?" He asks, watching as you put up a couple more pillows for him to use.
"Since when do you sleep on the couch? You know I need you here with me whenever you sleep over." You turn around and pinch his cheek, stepping behind him to creak the door shut.
"Yeah? You like when I stay in your bed?" His voice goes low with the question. His hands go to your waist and he's walking you backwards towards your bed. "Well I like staying in your bed too, mama." He lays you down, your head cradled by his hand before he slides it out of the way for your pillow to take its place. He grins as he takes up all the space between your legs, his hands taking their position on your waist again. He takes your lips in his, the minty flavor of his mouth seeping into your taste buds. It's a short lived moment, because the second his hands try to tug your shorts down, you put a stop to everything, your own hands pulling your shorts back up.
"Mm..." you hum, releasing his lips with a quiet smack. "N-No, Toji. Not like this."
"No?" He repeats, a small crease of confusion between his brows as he pulls his hands away from your hips. "Okay," he complies, quickly diverting the situation by resting his whole body down on you. His chin rests on your chest and he just looks up at you with the most loving expression. You have to try not to laugh when you notice he isn't blinking.
You gently scratch the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. "What?" You ask, a soft smile following the question.
"I don't know," he says, sighing wistfully with that same adoring gaze still fixated on you. "I can't explain the way I see you." Not having the sufficiently accurate words to describe how you are depicted in his eyes is a strange, void-like feeling for someone who could talk about you for days on end.
You just hum at the declaration. His mind isn't exactly operating at one hundred percent, so you won't judge him for his inability to think of ways to describe you.
He lowers his gaze and buries his face in your warm chest. You can feel him kissing you through the thin material of your tank top. "Love you," he mumbles. "You mad at me?" He asks, not pausing his kisses as he waits for your answer.
"No, baby. There's nothing to be mad about." You smooth down his hair when you're done playing with it and rest your hands on his shoulders.
"Just wanted to see you." His warm breath filters through your shirt. "Shiu told me no, but I didn't care. I just had to see you, and now... i'm here." He inhales and lets out the breath slowly. "And I don't wanna go home." As if he's scared he'll be denied of you again, his arms go under your back, and he effectively molds his body into yours.
"You could've let me know over the phone rather than giving me a heart attack. You know you're always welcome here, my love." You rub soothing circles into his back with one hand, and the other goes to the back of his head again.
"Surprise," he says, lacking so much enthusiasm that it even makes him chuckle. He pushes his face further into your chest and lets out a sigh that reveals his tiredness. "Mm... you're gonna put me to sleep if you keep doing that."
You laugh, slowing your movements until your hands are just flat in their positions.
"No, ma," he groans, frustrated by the lack of your soothing touch on him. "Do it again, please. Feels good." He turns his head so that the side of his face rests on your chest.
It's impossible to deny him, especially when he asked so nicely. You like being able to help him relax this way. Never mind the lack of feeling in your legs from his weight and the minimal movement you've been allowed. You just can't seem to find it in yourself to whine about your position when the sound of him rhythmically breathing through his nose takes over the silence of the room. You tilt your head slightly to get a look at his face and as you suspected, he's out. His eyes are shut and he's motionless, save for the slight rise and fall of his shoulders and back as he breathes.
A kiss to the top of his head was your show of making peace with having him as your weighted blanket and human teddy bear for the night.
Shiu said you wouldn't be able to handle a drunk Toji all alone, yet there you have him, piled on and drooling on you like he's getting the best sleep.
5K notes · View notes
mariasont · 4 months
Text
My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H
Tumblr media
a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it
warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy
wc: 1.3k
"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."
You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.
"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor. 
You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.
"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."
You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place. 
You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.
"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."
The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.
"Having fun talking to yourself?"
You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."
He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.
You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"
The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.
His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.
He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back. 
You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."
He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.
"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."
The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.
The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.
He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.
Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.
With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.
"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."
You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.
"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."
You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh. 
"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.
Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.
Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."
You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"
Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."
He was only half-joking.
"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.
Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.
"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"
He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."
And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
3K notes · View notes