#notice how wrong is his smile in the last panel. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

earthtooz · 2 years ago

Text

x : APOLOGY ACCEPTED :*+ﾟ

in which: isagi doesn't like it when you give him the silent treatment.

warnings: 1.9k wc, gn!reader, fluff with a little angst, ooc!isagi (i tried), mentions of manhandling, sleepy isagi, mentions to arguments. food.

a/n: I FEEL ILL REREADING THIS why is this so bad hELP. for being the main character, it's hard asf to get good manga panels of isagi lol. anyways. enjoy this shit piece xx i can't believe this is my first isagi fic and i did him so wrong, i'm so sorry cri

“y/n?” echoes a voice from down the hallway, one laced with grogginess and fatigue, paired with the gentle padding of footsteps trudging their way to where you resided in the living room. in your periphery, isagi rounds the corner shirtless and messy bedhair, and not sparing him a glance proved itself a challenge.

usually, you would’ve sprung up from your seat and greeted him good morning, but the soreness of your throat is a harsh reminder of the argument you had last night, and thinking too hard about it would press into the bruises of your ego, resurfacing awkward and sour feelings. yet, you still had to fight to contain the butterflies in your stomach upon seeing him and it becomes harder to fight when you realise that the first thing isagi did since waking up was find you, not even brushing his teeth or putting on a shirt.

as adorable as he was, you don’t know what to say to him, unsure of where you stood since you both just went to bed last night, the problem never resolving itself.

isagi’s face however, upon seeing you, lit up with a smile as bright as a thousand suns and endearing enough to crumble your resolve but you persevere with your tough facade. the true stake to the heart is the way his face drops when noticing your reluctance to acknowledge him.

"y/n?" he asks again as greeting, waddling over to stand before you. you still don't look up at him from your phone. "why are you awake so early?"

silence.

"y/n?" prods the soccer star who now seats himself beside you, hand shaking yours a little in hopes of getting your attention. "you're mad at me, aren't you?"

you don’t know how to respond, remaining silent despite the countless words brewing in your mind that were unable to spill over to form a sentence. should you be nice? mean? petty? you could never have the heart to do the latter two, but-

"-i'm sorry," he mutters, placing his chin on your shoulder so he could give you his best puppy-dog eyes. you don’t react, no matter how hard you had to fight to not look at him because you knew that if you did, you’d crumble right into his arms.

you miss the way his frown deepens with every shake of your shoulder that you ignore.

“you know i don’t like it when people ignore me.”

despite your cold shoulder, he still lingers around you, just now fast asleep after prying a spot on your lap for his head to fit, disturbing your peace with his hesitant invasion. naturally, you run your hands through his raven hair, lounging in the morning sun with your phone in one hand and your soccer sensation of a boyfriend in your lap.

eventually, the tranquillity is ruined alongside the urge to use the bathroom, but the difficult part of said task however, was getting isagi off your lap which turned out to be a carefully organised operation. gently lifting his head, you manage to shuffle away before laying him back down. somehow you manage to keep him from rousing, leaving you to tiptoe away without making much noise.

you went as far as you could because when you opened the bathroom door againÇ, isagi was lingering outside, slumber still evident in his face as he blinks sleepily at you. so much for leaving without waking him.

“oh. hi,” he greets, voice still ridden with sleep. he rubs his eye innocently, streaks of his nap engrained on his skin.

he grumbles a sleepy murmur of your name as you slip away around him, giving isagi the chance to latch on to your waist. this wasn’t the silent treatment you were imagining, but you have half a mind and even less of a desire to shrug your boyfriend off, no matter how difficult your predicament is.

“i need to brush my teeth,” the athlete mutters, dragging you into the bathroom with him. “we can do skincare together.”

you don’t have it in you to tell isagi that you’ve already done your morning routine so you settle for doing it a second time. not like it’ll hurt anyone, especially not your skin.

wordlessly, you do your morning routine alongside him and it’s oddly peaceful without the usual talking and music in the background. you get more of a chance to admire isagi and his boyish features, shyly looking away from his gaze every time his eyes meet yours in the bathroom mirror. after putting away all the products, you don’t move very far before the dark-haired latches himself to you again.

he remains like that even as you continue with chores and tasks you assigned yourself, deciding that there’s no place he’d rather be than half-asleep behind you whilst you sort through laundry, organise your drawers, and fix organise the kitchen cabinets. he’s gracious enough to help a little, holding spices and cans here and there.

if you tried to shake him off, isagi would grumble and come right back, never straying too far away for too long.

his insistence to stay like this was endearing, but very irritating, especially it was hindering your productive. however, your will to scold him for it is at an all-time low so you’ll have to continue living with another being wrapped around you until isagi gives up or you tell him off.

you didn’t have to wait long for the latter. after you were done with organising- or rather when isagi was fed up of standing, he drags you right back to your shared bedroom, silently arranging the two of you on your shared bed with his strength, moving you into a comfortable position under the duvet.

“please stop,” you demand quietly as if you were silent enough, you wouldn’t technically break the silent treatment.

he immediately perks up at the sound of your voice and his name on your lips, a wide smile breaking out on his face. “babe!” isagi flops on you, the ‘oof’ that escapes you not going unnoticed, “you talked.”

“isagi, please give me some space.”

the smile on the soccer player’s face completely melts away and he furrows his eyebrows, causing guilt to strike you in the heart as he reluctantly moves away from you. the use of his last name in comparison to his usual, affectionate-filled nicknames didn’t soften the blow directed at him either.

“is this because of last night?” he asks, resting his chin on your sternum. “i’m sorry about everything that i said.”

“isagi,” he stops rambling. “please, i just need some space right now.”

“okay, i’m sorry. i’ll go now.”

he shuffles out from under the covers rather quickly, picking up a shirt from his closet before walking out with it half-on. you call out his name only to hear the front door slam close and you wince slightly at the sound, guilt weighing heavily on your heart.

when you said you needed space you didn’t mean for isagi to leave the apartment completely.

if you had set your boundaries clearer this morning maybe you could have avoided this scenario. now isagi’s out of the house and you don’t know where he’s even going or when he’s returning and the thought is enough to scare you, riddling you with enough anxiety for your heart to sink to your feet. it’s getting hard to breathe too and your mind is racing with countless thoughts that all pile on top of each other.

texting isagi was a flunk too, he left his phone at home and only took his wallet.

what did you do? what time would he be back?

could he have gone to bachira’s? nagi’s? without his phone though? isagi wouldn’t usually go very far without a device at the very least. maybe he’s just out for a walk to clear his mind. yeah, that sounds right, isagi loves walks after all so who knows when he’ll be back. speaking of walking, you might benefit from one right now too-

“-i’m home!” a voice shouts out, breaking you out of your funk like hammer shattering a glass.

practically running out of the bedroom, you disregard the shards of hurt, running over them to see isagi staring at you with wide eyes. he holds a bakery bag and a bouquet of flowers- your favourites, in one hand and the apartment keys in the other.

“oh, y/n, are you okay?” he asks fondly, setting the bag down on the kitchen counter before wandering over to you. without thinking, you reel him in to a hug when he’s close enough, half jumping onto him as the soccer player catches you effortlessly, surprised by your sudden show of affection. “i thought you were mad at me?”

“you scared me, you doofus,” you say into his shoulder with a watery laugh, relief flooding your body like no other at the feeling of his warmth against yours again. “don’t just leave like that ever again.”

“i’m sorry! i wanted to say sorry because of how big of a dick i was to you last night and this morning.”

“you left so abruptly! i thought i angered you even more or something,” you laugh, all watery and emotional.

isagi snakes a hand up to your face, cradling it. “that wasn’t my intention, i didn’t mean to scare you.”

“apology accepted and i’m sorry too. i was mean to you last night as well and i should have communicated properly with you this morning. wasn’t fair on my end.”

“apology accepted,” he says with a charmingly boyish grin. you have an urge to kiss it off. “i love you.”

“you make it so hard to stay mad at you. i love you too,” you mutter before isagi’s pressing his lips to yours, pouring all his love for you to breathe in, filling you with reassurance. you smile against him, unable to contain it, which then causes him to mimic you, and the kiss breaks away because the two of you are laughing too much.

isagi will be the death of you.

your eyes glance behind him and the striker follows your line of sight. “i got your favourite cake too by the way, last one the bakery had. guess i’m one lucky guy, huh?”

“the stars aligned perfectly just for you.”

“i agree,” mutters isagi before leaning in to leave a kiss on your forehead.

“should we have some cake now?” you question, loosening your arms around him to back away and faltering when he doesn’t let you. his grip around your waist is tight and unforgiving as mischief shines in the dark-haired’s eyes.

then, he pulls you right back, peppering your face in endless kisses whilst you giggle in response to each one. the more he plants the more you want to pull away out of reflex but his hold forbid for you to travel too far, leaving you vulnerable to all of his advances.

“i love you,” he repeats with each press against your skin.

“yoichi, stop!” you giggle. the sound is a remedy to his pain.

“can’t stop, i have a whole day of affection to make up for.”

you shove his shoulder teasingly, “later.”

“later. i’ll never make you mad again, i swear. that was the worst day of my life. next time you do this, i’d rather you end me.”

#isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi fluff #isagi yoichi fluff #isagi blue lock #blue lock fluff #isagi x gn!reader #isagi yoichi x gn!reader #yoichi isagi x reader

2K notes · View notes

toomuchracket · 9 months ago

Text

if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3

in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.

your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”

you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”

“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”

“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”

“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”

you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”

“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”

the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”

marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”

“what?”

she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”

“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”

“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”

“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”

“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”

you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.

and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.

“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”

“because you want to get under him?”

“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”

“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”

“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”

“i'm only five years older than you!”

“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.

that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.

you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”

“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”

“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”

matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”

he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”

“you can tell from one glance?”

you shrug. “s'my favourite.”

“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”

“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”

he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”

“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”

“yeah, it was stunning.”

the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”

“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”

“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”

“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”

your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”

doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”

“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”

“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”

he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.

and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.

he has a fucking hip tattoo.

you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.

still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”

darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.

but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”

matty tilts his head. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”

“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”

you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”

“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”

“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”

matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”

christ.

“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop.

matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-

enough. he's literally right there.

the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.

matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.

this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”

“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”

“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”

his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”

you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”

“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”

no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”

he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”

“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”

matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”

“you do?”

he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes.

you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”

matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”

“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”

“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”

matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”

marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”

“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”

you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”

both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”

“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”

he beams. “more than. thank you.”

“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”

she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”

“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”

he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”

god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”

matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #office nerd au #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

321 notes · View notes

gyusimp · 3 months ago

Note

OMG I saw you write for Kenji Sato omg can I request one where instead of the reader being Kenji’s manager the roles are switched? :DD

Reader is a women’s baseball player (basically kenji but its the reader right?) and Kenji is her (private) manager that doesn’t have a social media presence so one day when they get seen together the media assume they’re dating but in reality they’re not(?) hehe I also feel like it would be way more interesting if you added your own twist to how to end it 🤭

𝑨𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝒙 𝑩𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 [ᔆʷⁱᵗᶜʰ ʳᵒˡᵉˢ ᴬᵁ | ᴼⁿᵉ⁻ᔆʰᵒᵗ ] 3.7k words

In the end I ended up making Kenji your assistant instead of your manager lol I hope you don't mind. Btw, this AU was so fun to write! I had a lot of ideas with the original plot of the movie so the one-shot was getting so long that I had to think about making a second part for it. I hope you like it! ❤

You were in your dressing room, touching up your hair and makeup before the press conference that started in 30 minutes. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a few questions after having won the last game thanks to you, scoring a homerun in the last minutes to give your team the victory.

“It’s time, you better go take a seat.” It was Kenji, your assistant who told you, peeking through the door before knocking, holding his cell phone in his hand.

“Ok, I’ll be right there.” You put your phone aside and stood up to go to the room where all the press was, the camera flashes shining on your face as you greeted everyone with a confident and flirtatious smile before taking a seat in front of a back panel full of logos and a table with several microphones pointed at you next to a small table tent with your name written on it and the logo of the team you are part of.

The night and the conference went by smoothly and normally, confidently answering each of the questions about your profession and a few jokes with the interviewers. A woman stood up from her seat to greet you, introducing herself with the name of the company she worked for. “Can I ask you a few questions?”

“Sure, go ahead.” You smiled as the girl adjusted her glasses before reading her notes and speaking. “Everyone here is talking about the success of your latest game but I would like to know something more personal about you.”

“Ok, what is your name?” To which the woman replied as Ami Wakita. You didn’t see anything wrong with her comment, people usually ask you questions about personal things like a hobby, beauty secrets or the like. “You’ve been seen very close to the same boy lately, but he’s not just any boy but your assistant Mr. Sato. Is there something more between you two than just a mere work relationship?”

Everyone was talking in the background, pointing out that this wasn’t the time for gossip and other comments until they noticed your expression and delayed response to the question. Your expression turned serious and slightly irritated, you took the bottle of cold water in front of you and drank from it to wash away that bitter feeling in your mouth.

“Ms. Wakita, no? I would love to answer your question but I’m afraid I have another event to attend to right now. It was a pleasure being able to talk to all of you.” You said with a fake smile for the general public as you finished, to stand up and say goodbye to everyone present.

The hustle and bustle of the people was heard less and less until it almost completely disappeared through the hallways until you reached your dressing room and met your assistant Kenji again, you took your things and both returned to your large house away from the rest of the city.

“Hey, everything okay? You seem a little upset since the conference ended” Kenji said, sitting on the couch next to you, handing you a canned drink.

“Yeah, just some people and their out of place questions, you know.” He nodded in response as he took a sip from his can. “I see… well, don’t pay attention to them. They’re always like that, right? Maybe they do it just to annoy you.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You stretched out on the couch and then stood up. “I’m tired, I think I’ll go to sleep. Could you remind me of my schedule for tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Kenji took the iPad next to him on the couch to check your chores for tomorrow while leaving the can on the couch coaster. “You have training from 9:00 - 11:00 am then at 3:00 pm meeting with your trainer, another meeting from 4:00 - 5:30 pm to sign your endorsement contracts with Maybelline…”

“Wow! That means free makeup?” you commented excitedly.

“Maybe, that happened with the last campaign, right?”

“Yeah, I hope it happens again. I could use some waterproof foundation or something. That’s all?”

“No, you have one last interview at 6:00 pm at Ami Wakita’s house.”

“Her name sound familiar, where is she from?”

“She works for a sports channel, but her name also appears in the attendees of this afternoon’s press conference. I didn’t get to see you today, did you talk to her or something?” Ken asked seeing the look of disinterest on your face.

“Damn…something like that. Actually, she was the one with the awkward questions. Can’t we cancel?”

Kenji checked a few things and then shook his head. “I don’t think so, she had already requested to speak with you several weeks in advance.” Kenji’s words discouraged you but the commitment was already scheduled and you had no other option.

You went to sleep hoping that the next day it would be easier for you to think about going but as the day went by you realized that you longed for the hours to pass more slowly so you wouldn’t have to go. Kenji accompanied you to the last meeting with the sponsors and when it was over you told him he could go home after having done so much for you, which he wasn’t sure about at first but after your insistence he ended up accepting. You arranged to attend the interview with the woman at the press conference at her house, you wondered why it would be at her house and not a different place like a set or studio at her workplace.

Did she want to ask you more strange questions or continue to insist on the last topic? Thinking about that made you a little nervous, about the reasons why you could be related to Kenji in that way. Your assistant wasn't a public figure unlike you, just a normal boy a few years older than you who came to Tokyo a few years ago to help his father with some family matters and get a new job while he wasn't busy with it. He doesn't even use social media much but being the personal assistant of a celebrity, it's impossible for him to go completely unnoticed. Besides, it's been a few years since he works for you, years where he has shown himself to be a trustworthy, friendly, kind and very considerate person, it's incredible the way your whole life is in perfect condition and safety in the hands of that man, making both of you become very close friends over time and even making you develop other kinds of feelings for him.

Both of you became so close that you even offered him to move into your spacious house after seeing the constant arguments with his father. It’s normal for both of you to be seen together in public, whether it’s just doing his work by your side or having a drink together after a tiring day, but that didn’t mean anything else. The guy doesn’t even know you’re attracted to him and now the media wants to tell him and make up stories before you can even say anything? Never. It was time for the interview so you decided to arrive about 10 minutes early so you could leave faster.

“Good evening, thank you very much for coming.” Ami greeted you. “Please have a seat.” You sat at a small table in front of her in the living room of her house. Your first impression with her had been bad yesterday, you didn’t like at all her way of invading you in front of everyone asking questions unrelated to the topic so now you could say you were a little in boss bitch mode but not so happy. You limited yourself to a simple greeting and kept your sunglasses on. “Well, I have some questions,” she said, taking her cell phone. “Do you mind if I record?”

“Not at all, go ahead.” You said, expression neutral but very nervous deep down as the woman spoke.

It was more random topics at first to get comfortable, comments about your games and such until the topic of talking in confidence between two girls came up. “Well, I guess you didn’t answer my question the other night,” she smiled, searching for answers. “Is it possible that you could answer now?”

“Again with that…” Your head tilted slightly and you sighed tiredly. “Ms. Wakita, aren’t you supposed to work for a sports network?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Then why don’t you ask questions that fall into that category?”

“I thought you liked talking about yourself.”

“I like talking about myself, however, I only tend to do so in the right place with the right people,” you replied, leaning out of your seat to look at her over your sunglasses. Letting a brief silence settle in as her phone counted down the seconds of the recording. Her expression grew more serious, however, you continued talking. “Listen, I’m one of the best female baseball players alive in my age range right now. There are thousands of questions to ask an athlete of my level but despite that, you prefer to continue with the same subject as if we were in high school. I'm a professional and I think your questions should start being one too, don’t you think?”

You smiled sideways and adjusted your glasses on your head. You stood up and thanked her for the gesture of having invited you directly to her house while you began to walk out and go home in your car.

“I’m going home” you wrote a text message to Ken before starting the engine and driving. Not even 2 minutes had passed when you received a call from Kenji, you answered putting the call on speaker so you could talk while driving.

“Wow, that was fast. Everything in order?”

“Neither good nor bad, but please say no to anything that is related to talking to that woman again, understand?” You joked with Kenji to which he also laughed telling you that he would take it into account for future occasions. “Hey, do you have plans for tonight or are you already dressed in your pajamas?” He laughed again, making your smile curve further.

“I was thinking we could order something to eat since your plans changed,” Kenji suggested.

“How about I pick you up and we go get something to eat?”

“Are you sure? Aren’t you tired?”

“It’s Friday Ken. Get ready, I’ll pick you up in 20,” you told him before hanging up the call. Talking to Kenji made you feel a lot better, even downplaying the interview from a while ago.

You went to your house where Kenji was waiting for you at the entrance, got in your car and drove to a nice place to hang out with him. You loved hanging out with him, being able to talk and laugh by his side was so relaxing and always made you feel good. Now at dinner, it’s like all the tiredness you carried was slowly fading away as the two of you talked, that was the effect Ken always had on you. After your little date, you returned home to rest, tomorrow there weren’t many things to do so you could both sleep later.

Saturday’s rest had been worth it, today you had a game to play and you were already in the locker room, getting ready to go out onto the field where you would be greeted by a crowd excited about today’s game. “Hey girl, I didn’t know you two were dating!” It was the voice of one of your teammates. Her tone wasn’t mocking but rather surprised, like a friend happy to see you in a relationship.

You looked at her confused as she showed you a news story that was trending in searches. It was a picture of you and Kenji at that restaurant the other night, along with a headline speculating about a love affair between the female baseball star and his assistant. Your mouth was agape.

“No! We-we’re not-” You were about to clear things up when you were interrupted by your coach, indicating that it was your turn to go out and play. You were upset, confused, and nervous. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Right about to go out onto the field, with millions of eyes on you both in person and through the televisions while Kenji Sato was the only thing going through your head. You grabbed the bat almost automatically and positioned yourself on the base to get ready to hit.

What would Kenji say about all this? Had he seen it already? He likes to keep a low profile and now he’d be on everyone’s lips along with you. Would he be upset? Would he ask you for a break? Or much worse. Would he quit?

Strike 1

You didn’t see the ball go past you, wondering who could have gotten those pictures. Wasn’t it a more private place? They’re supposed to guarantee that privacy when the prices for that place cost a fortune.

Strike 2

They sold those pictures to the media? That was for sure. How did they do it so fast? Would you just have to ignore all of that or come out and deny it? What if hypothetically Kenji secretly liked all of this and denying everything disillusioned him? You looked ahead as you heard your coach’s voice and the sound of the crowd, just in time before the ball was thrown again.

You adjusted your feet, held the bat tightly while keeping your eyes on your target as you then swung with all your might, scoring a perfect homerun. You threw the bat in another direction and began running towards the other bases as fast as you could. The crowd was cheering you on, but you noticed how the screams of excitement were starting to sound different and all the screens turned the atmosphere in the stadium red, announcing a kaiju alert in the city. You stopped in the middle of the field not knowing what to do when everyone started running and getting up after a helicopter almost collided with the gigantic creature that appeared in the back of the stadium, making the ground rumble with the roar it let out from its throat.

You decided to run in the opposite direction and return to your team in the locker room, where the security guards would take them to a safer place. You quickly grabbed your things and grabbed your cell phone to watch the news while you walked with your briefcase on your shoulder. Fortunately, Ultraman was already at the site near the stadium, surely everything would be under control with his presence. Suddenly Kenji came to your mind, most likely he was on his way to pick you up after tonight's game. Without thinking twice, you dialed his phone number.

“Kenji, you have some calls” said Mina, the AI that her father had given him a few months ago after making some improvements to her. Your name was displayed in her database every time he received a call from your number. “Do you want me to answer?”

“No, I’m kind of busy right now Mina. I’ll talk to her later.” You were moved to another safer part of the stadium after seeing that Ultraman had managed to take Gigantron to another part far from the city with the KDF.

You tried to call Kenji again but you still didn’t get a response and when the alerts were deactivated after a while you didn’t hesitate twice to go look for him yourself. Almost 3 hours had passed and you weren’t going to wait any longer but just in case, you called Kenji again while you were walking outside the stadium.

“Yes?”

“Kenji! I’m so relieved to hear you, are you okay? Nothing happened to you? There was a kaiju very close to here and you weren’t answering my calls!”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine, calm down. I was just leaving the house to go get you. Where are you?”

“Leaving the stadium, I’m going to where you are?”

“No, just stay where you are. I’ll be there, send me your location okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Ok, thanks. Be careful okay?” A lot of things had happened in these hours, too many things.

Kenji was sure that he would lose his job tonight, what other reaction if not firing him would you have when you saw that he locked a baby kaiju without your permission inside your house and now it was living in your basement? He was very nervous and needed to think of a surprising excuse for all this. The baby kaiju appeared next to her mother and he had to lock her in here? Or maybe… not. Nothing was justifiable, each excuse he thought sounded more stupid than the last. For now, he took it upon himself to pick you up and go home hoping that Mina had managed to calm her down in the meantime. As a last option he would call his father but only if it was really necessary.

Both of you entered your house, you didn’t stop talking and Ken’s nerves increased with every sound coming from inside the house, hoping that it wasn’t the baby who had woken up.

“Damn today was an exhausting day. I’ll be upstairs taking a bath” you told him, going up the stairs to your room. Ken knew that you took things seriously when you decided to relax.

You turned up the music in the bathroom and closed the door for hours to do your skincare, hair and whatever routine before taking a bath with warm water and filling the bathtub with things. You would be distracted for a while and that would give him time to go down to the basement and think of a solution before you noticed the giant pink lizard inside your house. Ken stood in the middle of the living room, shouting your name over and over again trying to get your attention as a test in case you heard something but he got no response, he could simply hear your voice singing in the distance along with your favorite playlist which gave him the confidence to go down.

“Ken, it’s good that you’re back” Mina said, just showing him that the baby had just woken up almost 20 minutes ago.

“And this!?” Inside the containment unit there was a whole mess of food thrown on the floor, food that you had bought that you would surely deduct from his salary for having wasted it in his games of being a kaiju’s mother. “Mina, I told you to try something little by little so that she would eat.”

“I did, but she rejected each thing in the end.”

The baby was desperate, she moved her little legs demanding something to eat until her attention was fixed on something else. Some fish around on the other side of the glass made her look at them anxiously, indicating what she want to eat. “Do you want fish? “Okay, I’ll get you some fish.”

It didn’t take any effort for Kenji other than turning into Ultraman to go out and get a good amount of fish to feed the baby. You were upstairs in the bathroom, you continued singing inside the bathroom after having taken a shower. You found yourself sitting in front of the mirror of your vanity, a towel wrapped around your body and another around your hair while you put some products on your face. You let your hair down, you let it down and combed it after moisturizing it, now you only needed the hairdryer but you couldn’t find it anywhere. You searched the shelves, the furniture and sliding doors but it wasn’t there, suddenly you remembered having used it with Kenji to dry his hair for the last time, after he was caught in the rain one night where he had to go out to take care of something after his watch made a strange sound. You took off the towel from your body, put on your underwear and a sleeveless nightgown before putting a thicker robe over your body and tying it around your waist and searched for Kenji all over the house without finding him either until you heard his voice coming from the basement. It turns out that you found the dryer while looking for him around the house but you still wanted to know what he was doing. It wasn't common for him to be alone downstairs, there wasn't much to do there.

"There you go, eat as much as you want" Kenji said, still as Ultraman. Opening the lid of the containment unit to empty several kilos of fish into it to feed the baby who began to eat happily. "Do you think that's enough?"

"We hope so" Mina replied.

Kenji sighed in relief and returned to his usual height in less than 1 second. His figure jumped slightly when he heard a noise of something falling. He turned around and there you were, having dropped the dryer on the floor causing it to break as you watched in amazement as the approximately 40 meter tall hero of Tokyo was in your basement, it was your assistant and friend Kenji Sato and also, he was feeding a kaiju.

Let me know what do u think and if you'd like a Part two! Also, if u want to be tagged in Part 02 too when i post it 😁

#ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ultraman rising #ultraman netflix #ultraman ken #ultraman #ken sato #kenjisato #kenji x reader #kenji sato x you #kenji sato x y/n

128 notes · View notes

sinnabum45 · 7 months ago

Text

⚠Trigger Warning! Graphic depictions of suicide attempt, suicide ideation, and spiraling thoughts⚠

[Image description: black and white with gray tones, digital drawing of a comic about characters from the Ace Attorney series. Page one: First three panels are of Miles Edgeworth sitting at his desk, which is covered with papers, tired with eye bags and feeling frustrated with himself. His left hand is on his face and it moves back down. He thinks to himself, “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I even do something as simple as this?” A flashback to Phoenix Wright glaring at Edgeworth, then saying, “It’d been better if you never came back from the dead, Edgeworth!” Pearl Fey is standing next to him with a shocked and worried expression. Page one end. Page two: Miles is shocked and his desk is now covered with sleeping pills and an open pill bottle. An embodiment of Manfred von Karma appears behind Miles and reaches for Miles’s face. Manfred says, “How selfish can you be? Can’t even do me the favor of simply dying. ” The embodiment turns into Miles when he attempted suicide. Messy hair, bloodshot eyes, dried tears, dark circles under his eyes, and pills pouring from his mouth. He is squeezing the real Miles’s face and says, “Why don’t you try it again?” Page two end. Page three: Miles shuts his eyes and covers his ears with his fists while shouting, “No!! I don’t need you anymore!”. He opens his teary eyes when he hears Phoenix say, “Edgeworth.” Miles remembers Phoenix telling him, “Please call me anytime. I want to be there for you this time, okay?”. In the flashback, it is bright, Phoenix is facing forward, smiling with a worried expression, and holding his phone. The present Miles looks forward and calmed down a little. He’s still shaken up a bit. Page three end. Page four: Throughout the three panels, Miles is reaching for his smart phone on the desk, pulls away, then grabs his phone. Quotes from various characters: Phoenix, Gant, Manfred, and Franziska are scattered throughout the page. First panel, “I never wanted to see you again! To think that your motivation for prosecuting trials was so selfish…” by Phoenix. “I can feel it. You and me… we’re the same.” by Gant. Second panel, “You can let what happened kill the prosecutor inside you, or you can let it help you grow. I’ll be waiting for you in court…” by Phoenix. “Our battle… begins now… so you had better prepare yourself, Miles Edgeworth!” by Franziska. Third panel, “You have fallen so far. All these years I guided you, raised you as my own. You and your father are my curse!” by Manfred. “A von Karma is someone who is destined to be perfect! You are no longer worthy of being a von Karma! And neither am I!” by Franziska. Page four end. Page five: Miles is calling Phoenix. It rings throughout the page. The embodiment of Miles yells, “Stop! He will just hate you more than he already does!”. He is crying as he says, “ Then… I’ll truly be alone.” He has both hands raised to around his collarbone level and ink is smudged on his right hand. Miles reaches for his face and it startles his embodiment. The last panel is brighter. Miles, with closed eyes and somber expression, is holding his own face and reassuring himself by saying, “Don’t worry… I trust him.” Miles’s chair is squeaking as he rocks back and forth while leaning on his desk. Page five end. Page six: It is single light page with the phone ringing and getting picked up. Then Phoenix answers, “ Hello? Edgeworth?”. Comic end. End description]

Links to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸

[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). End plain text.]

Some extra thoughts below! These are just my personal interpretations of what I watched. I'll try to make sense of what I'm saying LOL 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

Again, trigger warning for suicide attempt+ ideation!

Something I noticed while skimming through Farewell, My Turnabout is the similarities between Miles and Adrian Andrews. They directly connected Franziska and Adrian at the end, but they kinda just "hinted" at Miles being similar to Adrian. The main thing that stood out to me is when Miles starts explaining how Adrian is putting up a façade by acting strong. The background fades to black (TWICE), which is something that mostly happens when it's something important, putting focus onto Miles while he talks about how Adrian "lost her will to live" after losing Inpax. Inpax was Adrian's "pillar of strength" and when Inpax comitted suicide, Adrian completely fell apart. She then started to act just like Inpax to cope with losing herself and her mentor. That sounds like the relationship between Miles (and Franziska) and Manfred.

Miles's and Franziska's whole life with Manfred was them depending on him to validate/approve of them. When Manfred left their lives, they started to fall apart trying to gain approval of a man who isn't there anymore. Franziska's confidence was chipped away throughout every case because she kept losing against Phoenix. Miles fell apart a lot quicker (cuz Franziska wasn't created until after--).

Throughout Rise from the Ashes, multiple characters point out how Miles was not doing well and it progressively gets worse. This honestly confused me because Phoenix did notice that Miles wasn't doing okay. He even told Miles that he needs to choose between killing the prosecutor within him or let it help him grow. This interaction is at the very end of the case. Idk if "killing the prosecutor within" was ever brought up before that, but that was interesting cuz I kept seeing people say that Miles wrote that in his note out of nowhere.

With everything that Miles went through in just 2 MONTHS- it makes sense to me if he was not okay. His whole life was uprooted again after 15 years, he was betrayed by almost everyone he trusted, his adoptive dad killed his biological dad and tried to blame it on him, he was brought out on a boat in the middle of the night and shot at, Gant+ Lana used his knife to stab a person's body and made him unknowingly transport it in his own car, Gant saying that he's just like him, etc. Like DAMN bro, what the heck 😭

Also, the thing that made me want to make this comic was when Phoenix told Miles that "everyone would be better off if he stayed dead". Imo, I think it's understandable why Phoenix is angry at Miles. He felt betrayed and couldn't face the fact that Miles isn't who he was when he was 9. There was a post talking about it in more detail, but I mostly agree with what they had to say about it. Phoenix put an unfair standard onto Miles and got hurt when Miles couldn't meet that expectation. He wanted to "save" Miles by solving the DL-6 case and then thought that Miles would go back to how he was when they were kids. When he realized that it doesn't work like that, at least not right away, he felt betrayed. I love that they wrote Phoenix, the protagonist, with these traits tbh. I think it's very interesting! I just wished that they added a scene where Phoenix apologized for saying that Miles should stay dead tho cuz that's never okay to say to anyone, let alone someone you care about and apparently "know better than anyone else" 👁👁

Another thing I noticed is how different the characters treat Adrian vs Miles with the topic of "death". For some reason they're very sympathetic and delicate with Adrian, but then tell Miles to die. Phoenix tells Miles that everyone would be better off if he stayed dead, but then calls Miles cold for telling Adrian that if she decides to "choose death", then it is of no concern to him. Which goes right into my next point.

Miles seemed like he really didn't want to bring up Adrian's suicide attempt and her mental illness. It seemed like they tried everything to get her to talk, but because Franziska told her not to testify, Adrian kept trying to stay quiet. Even the judge was trying to get her to testify by saying at this point, it's looking like she's guilty. In any other situation, what Miles said to her would be uncalled for, but this was literally life or death for Adrian. Also, with context, Miles said that regardless of what she decided to do after the trial, she needed to talk now. She was asking for someone to help her, but only she can accept that help. He could've definitely put it in a way better way tho like damn. I think he's projecting how he talks to himself onto Adrian tbh 👀 It's honestly just a really shitty situation for Adrian to be in cuz no matter the reason, she was forced to face her worst fear. If anyone is to blame for all this bs, it's definitely Matt Engarde and Juan Corrida imo-- 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ Her illness was something Adrian would have to face sooner or later, it just sucks that it had to be like this 😢 Another thing I noticed is when Adrian said that if the truth of her illness were to come out she couldn't finish her sentence. Then Miles finished it for her by asking if she would "choose death". That's a more obvious clue that maybe Miles's note was a suicide note, since it was used in the context of committing suicide.

This guy is always on my mind-- All of them are always on my mind tbh 😭 I just wanted to draw Miles struggling (just the usual on this account) SKMSDKLML I also wanted to show that healing isn't linear and there are a LOT of times where it's just hard. I also wanted to show that Phoenix (and literally everyone else OvO) does want to be there for him despite everything, Miles just has to be brave and accept his support. I just want them to be happy DAMN 😭😭

I feel like I have so much more to talk about, but I can't think of anything else rn. I hope all of this makes sense- I'd love to read your thoughts on this or if you have any questions! Just keep it respectful, please 🥺

304 notes · View notes

thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

Text

the downpour

lilac, chapter seven

a/n: everybody, calm down! deep breath! because it's happening!!!

summary: “man, I can’t for the life of me remember the last time it thundered, nevertheless this much,” not glancing back at the silent figure leaning against the kitchen counter, you asked him, “can you?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, renovating an inn, real name reveal, kissing, only one bed, rain and thunder

word count: 2400

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist

Gently clamping down on the break, your bike slowly rolled to a stop.

“Pete!” you hopped off before the bicycle had come to a complete standstill, “hi!”

Craning his head out from under the hood of his truck, a faint smile appeared upon the burly man’s lips as he greeted, “hey,” seemingly taken aback by your arrival, riding through the forest just as the sun had nearly set completely.

Glancing to the twisted innards of his vehicle, you exhaled, “oh no, what’s wrong with your car?”

Seizing a dirtied rag that hung over the top, Pete then wiped his grease-covered hands with it, “I haven’t gotten to the bottom of it quite yet,” blinking down at his broad palms as he cleaned the viscous substance off them.

“Is there like some car illness going around here or something?” you joked as your heel popped out the stand on your bicycle, balancing it before you stepped closer to the lumberjack.

“What, is yours still at the shop? It’s been months!”

“It’s something about a specific part not being in production anymore so they had a really hard time finding it,” you grumbled, “and then they finally did but it’s coming all the way from Germany and it’s just a whole thing…”

Sliding your fingers into your pockets, exhaling slowly as you let the infuriating car trouble simmer back down, you heard Pete ask, “so, did you just come over here, late at night, to talk about cars?”

“Well, it is my absolute favourite subject ever,” you joked, adding sarcastically, “I know just so much about cars…” blinking up into his dark eyes, you then let the antic fade away, “no, I just finally measured those rooms and it turns out they are both big enough for double beds.”

“Oh, great,” his eyebrows rose softly in recognition.

“I’m really sorry it took this long,” you averted your gaze, looking to the grass below as your fingers found an old and crumbled shopping list at the very bottom of your jacket’s pocket, “it was so kind of you to offer to make some new furniture for the place, I should have given you all the information needed so much earlier.”

“It's fine, it’s just a few bedframes, some shelves and such, nothing fancy,” he calmed your edgy nervous system, “I’ve gotten plenty done already without knowing all the information, but now that I do, I can finish, so thank you,” dipping his head a little lover to catch your gaze, he then offered graciously, “you wanna take a look? It’s not done yet, but it might give you an idea.”

“Yeah, sure,” the smile that blossomed on your lips was impossible to hide, following his long stride as he marched into the open shed-like structure just behind where the car was parked. To the immediate right, tall stacks of firewood laid to cure, a dark tarp draped over one of the piles, but the earthy scent your nose picked up on was heavenly and caused a bit of tenseness, you hadn’t noticed haunted your shoulders, to fade away.

“So, I cut out the side panels, legs and such for the beds since I didn’t know how wide they needed to be,” your vision flickered away from the various tools that hung up on peg boards on one of the walls, and fixated instead on the planks of well-carved wood that Pete presented, lifting one of them a few inches off the work table for you to take a look, “but this is kinda what’s going on so far, still need to sand it a bit more, put a stain on it, of course assemble it, but yeah, I hope this can work.”

“Wow, wait,” you craned down, pushing your wide eyes closer to the unfinished yet beautifully crafted pieces, “you made this?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged softly, “I mean, I can change it if you don’t like it–”

“I was fully expecting you just slap a few two-by-fours together and call it a bed,” you interrupted, momentarily tearing your eyes away from the timber to stress, “happily so might I add, but this is like actual furniture…” your fingers ghosted over the smoothed surface, “you’re really good at this.”

“Well, I do work with wood for a living,” he joked, head cocking to the side.

“Do you sell these kinds of things?”

“No, no,” he glanced down at the way the fingernail on his thumb was absentmindedly digging into the opposing palm, “stuff like this is just a way to keep my hands busy.”

“Well,” you glanced up into his eyes, “if you wanted to then you could easily make a pretty penny…” a gentle smile accompanied your genuine compliment, his own lips swiftly mirroring the same curve as he let out a wispy exhale.

Just then, a crack of thunder echoed from somewhere in the distance. Whipping your head around to glance out the wide-open door, it took mere seconds for the abrupt rain to go from a gentle drizzle to a violent downpour.

“Oh my god,” your feet carried you a few meters, shoulders jumping faintly as another bolt of lightning shot out from the dark clouds above.

Eyes too glued to the skies, you felt Pete’s touch find your shoulder as he uttered, “we should probably head inside.”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly, “good idea,” before your feet practically sprinted all the way up to the cabin’s humble porch, like a small child in the middle of the night, scared of whatever shadow monsters you thought to be real. Heading in first, Pete was right on your tail as you held the front door open a moment for him, swiftly slamming it shut behind him as giddiness coursed through your veins, “oh my goodness,” you squealed, curling your toes in your wet shoes, “I had no idea it was gonna rain!” casting your vision out the window, you let out an enchanted gasp as you spotted another thunderous bolt appear, “oh, Pete, look! That was such a close one,” your fingers found the windowsill as you muttered in amazement, “man, I can’t for the life of me remember the last time it thundered, nevertheless this much,” not glancing back at the silent figure leaning against the kitchen counter, you asked him, “can you?”

Not truly present, you then heard him utter, “…Frank.”

“Huh?” you finally glanced back at him, noticing how sombre his features suddenly were.

“My name,” he breathed, noticeably having trouble looking you in the eye, “it’s not Pete, it’s Frank.”

“What?” you blinked, the thrilling weather abruptly forgotten, “what do you mean your name is Frank?”

As you gently inched closer, perplexity muddling your features, he hesitantly shared, “I did some shit, things that some people high up doesn’t want the public to know about, so I get to be Pete while they get to not be humiliated by their own actions.”

Lips slightly parted, a dazed breath escaped your lungs, “I–…” utterly stunned, your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to comprehend the bomb he’d just dropped, “alright… alright…” a headache nearly plagued your cranium from how tensely your eyebrows were knitted together, “I-I don’t know what say,” you squinted back at the man before you, “no one’s ever–… wow… your name is Frank?” he hesitantly offered you a light nod in confirmation, “Frank… Frank…” you heard yourself hazily repeat, tasting the new, and oddly fitting, name on your tongue.

He didn’t utter a single word as you just stood there, doing your best to digest the staggering information.

It took a long time for you to hear the rumbling rain again, your whole body frozen as you tried to relearn what was up and what was down.

You had no idea how long the deafening silence drew out. Could have been a whole week for all you knew. But when your lips eventually parted once more, the breathless words that then spilt out couldn’t help but come straight from your heart.

“You–… you scare me…” catching his weary gaze, you uttered with glossy eyes, “the way that you make me feel, that scares me so much…” your tainted track record caused your body to feel as if you could faint at any moment, “I didn’t expect–, I certainly didn’t plan for this, any of this, you. I didn’t expect you to–…” the rest of your confession then faded away as the boldness of what soon fluttered out of you took even you by surprise, “can–… can I kiss you?” scarcely drawing breath as you glanced back at him in apprehension, “because I really can’t tell if it’s okay or not, if you–”

Seizing your fretful face in his hands, Frank promptly drew you in and drowned out the paralyzing worries that fluttered your system as his lips pressed against your own.

You heard him draw in a deep breath through his nose, as if it was the very first oxygen he had let his lungs have in a whole lifetime. Your shoulders swiftly relaxed, noticeably dropping beneath where his rough palms gently cupped your flush cheeks, not only handling you, but kissing you as if you were made out of glass.

As you eventually felt him gently draw back, you couldn’t help but dive back in, clutching his shirt and crashing your lips back against his in a kiss so fierce you nearly lost your footing.

When you finally did part ways, you felt Frank’s broad thumb trace your bottom lip, staring at it a moment before his enchanted eye flicked up to meet yours.

Breathless and absolutely spellbound, gazing back at him, you eventually heard yourself utter barely above a whisper, “…the–, the rain…” you felt his heavy breath fan across your blush, “I should probably wait it out…” the undertaking of letting go of the soft cotton of his shirt seemed an impossible task, “might be dangerous riding home in this weather, especially on the tiny paths I’d have to take, they get so muddy, and it gets too easy to just slip and fall and if it happens at some of the areas that are kind of cliffy, then it could quickly turn into something bad…” you rambled as it felt like his gaze pierced directly into your soul, “and also the lightning? I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna get stuck, that doesn’t sound very nice…”

“Might not be over till morning, though…” he pointed out, “you’re welcome to just sleep here if you want, I mean, nothing like that,” he reeled back a bit, wincing at the unintentional innuendo, “I wasn’t insinuating–,” but the end of his sentence didn’t get a chance to see the light of day as you raised yourself up onto your tip toes and planted a kiss of not only gratitude against his soft lips.

The low groan that then rumbled deep within his throat sent a dizzying flutter down your abdomen, all collecting right between your thighs. As your lips consequently parted to let out a foggy whimper, you felt his nature instinctively seize the opportunity and sneak his tongue in to explore your own, intoxicatingly dancing, savouring your taste, as his hands began to wander, attempting to pull your form as close to him as physically possible.

At first, you thought you’d fallen, but then when you felt the cool counter beneath your bottom, you realized that he’d hoisted you up there, slotting himself in between your parted limbs as you held onto the sides of his face, fingers weaving into his scraggly beard.

Panting, your chin abruptly tilted to the side, denying yourself of anymore before you got too far to be able to stop yourself. Eyes only half open, you felt his bulbous nose stay pressed against your cheek, lingering in your warmth for as long as he could.

“It’s getting late,” you breathed heavily, steadying yourself with a hand on either side of his broad shoulders, “we should probably go to sleep…”

As your neck began to straighten back out, his answer washed over you, sounding just as hazy as you had, “right,” one of his palms absentmindedly brushed the wild hair out of your face as you parted ways, “yeah…” pupils eclipsing the warmth of his eyes, you watched as he drew in on last breath before enclosing his grasp around your waist, helping you back down onto the floor, “you go on and take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No way,” a breathless chuckle bubbled out of you as you shook your head, “I’ll take the couch, I insist, I can’t put you out like that. I’m shorter than you anyway, so I’ll fit better,” you reached back to grasp the table behind you just in case the room decided to spin out from under you, “and if you give me your bed then I’ll just purposely stay up all night, not even sleep a second. So, if you want me to get some rest, then let me take the couch.”

Gazing back at you, a faint smile then warmed his features, “alright,” the vision not helping in the slightest at settling the butterflies in your stomach.

“Do you maybe have a shirt or something I could borrow? Just so that I don’t sleep in damp clothes…”

“Oh yeah,” the tiny task seemingly helped to take the edge off of Frank’s own fuzzy high, “I’ll, uhm…” he turned his back to you and wandered a few paces before he entered the far room, stopping before the tall wooden wardrobe visible from the doorway. Like his shadow, you slowly followed him, stopping just in the opening as you watched him pull out a black, folded-up item of clothing, “here,” he turned and handed the worn t-shirt to you, his touch lingering just a second, fingertips ghosting against the back for your palm.

“Thank you, Frank,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around it and hugging it close to your chest like a teddy bear.

“No problem,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bed in the corner of the room, juxtaposing crumbled linen sprawled atop the twisted iron frame made for quite the inviting image, even if you didn’t account for the actual dream that slumbered there every night, “the, uh, the bathroom is right through there, so you can just–, while I find you some blankets and such.”

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #lumberjack au

485 notes · View notes

earl-grey-teacake · 3 months ago

Note

Hey! Just wanted to say I've been loving re-reading all the asks on Ao3 and I've gone back through the tags on here as well and I had a question - you've previously said that Oscar and Logan were adopted and I'm curious did Carlos and Lando and George and Alex know the mother before had? Like was it an arranged adoption or did they go through an agency? Because the idea of Carlos and Lando meeting a few babies and not getting the right vibe and then seeing Oscar and just going 'ah perfect' is quite cute.

Hello! Thank you so much!

Oscar was adopted in Australia during the week leading up to the GP. A baby left in a carrier just on the other side of the fence surrounding the track with a partially filled out form reading OSCAR and DOB: O4/06/2***. A McLaren employee heard crying and happened upon the abandoned child. Shocked, they quickly rushed the child back to McLaren hospitality before leaving to find a doctor and police. Oscar, however, did not stop crying- wailing his poor little lungs out, feeling alone and scared and utterly abandoned by the world.

Lando couldn’t stand the crying, and took the baby out of the carrier to soothe him. The infant quickly clung to Lando, having stopped crying and opted to quietly rest his head against Lando’s chest. This attachment became even more obvious when the doctor and police arrived, with Oscar refusing to go with anyone else, forcing Lando to hold him while he got a check up. The police checked to see if there was a missing person’s report or anything that could lead information on the parent, but there was nothing. This was simply an unwanted child left by the race tracks.

Lando couldn’t help but feel his heart break. This was an innocent baby that had done no wrong, he didn’t deserve this. The longer Lando held him, the more determined he was to adopt him. He loved kids, had always wanted kids, but with his work there was no time to put too much thought into it. There was also the fact that his fiancé was also a driver. Lando had never talked in-depth about kids with Carlos and there was a strong possibility he would refuse for the sake of his career. But Lando couldn’t stand not keeping Oscar, he had to adopt him, he knew that and if Carlos wasn’t supportive than Lando could be a single father. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think about that since Carlos had walked in to see Lando holding the sleeping infant and asked if Lando wanted to adopt Oscar so Carlos could have the lawyers get started on the paper work. They stayed an extra couple weeks to get the paper work filed before they flew back home to Monaco with a 1-month old baby.

**************

Alex and George went the adoption agency route. They had gotten secretly married when the entered F1 and when Alex was dropped off RedBull, they entertained the idea of adopting a child. However, with Covid, George moving up to Mercedes, and Alex moving to Williams, the plan to adopt a child was put on the back-burner. The idea was brought up again when Lando and Carlos adopted Oscar. Alex loved how George looked holding a baby, and George adored how Alex smiled when Oscar smiled back at him.

They gots lawyers, went through an agency and prayed that they would be approved. After 3 months of waiting, they received their approval notice in the mail stating they were to attend a panel and meet some children to see who would be a good fit. Within an hour, they were packed and on their way to London.

They met a couple babies, some were newborn, some could walk, and others were just learning how to talk. A person from the agency oversaw the whole thing, taking notes of interactions, how receptive the kids were to them, and how the baby’s temperaments would fit into their lives. The last baby brought out had tuft of blonde hair, light blue eyes, and a little name tag that read “LOGAN”.

He was shy and quiet, squirming in the arms of the caretaker until they placed him down as a cushion. He kept to himself but continued to stare at the couple. Alex smiled and scooted over, gently poking him and eliciting a giggle. Even though Logan couldn’t understand, Alex still spoke to him and Logan slowly responded in his own babbling before holding out his arms to be picked up. Alex quickly relented and picked up the child, holding his close to his chest as Logan played with the buttons on his shirt. George had come closer as well, poking his cheek and tickling his stomach. Logan let out a laugh and grabbed onto George’s finger and looked at him with those large, blue eyes, cementing in George’s head that this baby would be their baby.

George had looked through Logan’s file, looking to see what led to this adorable child being abandoned. There he saw the note “Born in Florida-> adopted in UK-> adoption terminated 1.5 weeks after arrival.” There was no extra information on why it was terminated and George was not keen as to the reason. Adoptions, especially foreign adoptions were difficult to obtain and the circumstances that must have led to the poor baby being here must not have been pleasant. But that didn’t matter, Logan had a new home now and it was with them. After a month of paperwork and home inspections, there were allowed to take their baby home to Monaco.

**************

Oscar is found at the race track as foreshadowing his successful future in F1.

Logan’s brief past is a nod at Logan being born in Florida, moving to Europe young, and being dropped by Williams after 1.5 years in F1.

#f1 rpf #f1 rpf fic #logan sargeant #galex #alex albon #george russell #lando norris #baby!logan #carlando #carlos sainz #oscar piastri #baby!oscar #Baby!Loscar AU #I originally wrote this yesterday but the draft got deleted so I wrote it again today

72 notes · View notes

skeletboi · 20 days ago

Text

Part 17 of the Intridmensional AU!

This one starts right at the end of the last part, so I'd suggest reading the last few lines of part 16 before diving in here!

First /// Previous /// Next

________________________________________

“Would you believe I told ol’ Fordsie here to keep his idiot brother away from his project after what happened last time, yet here you are! HAH!”

“Ford…?” Stan asked, taking a step back.

“Sixer isn't home right now! Please leave a message after the beep! BEEEEEEPPPP!” Ford said before breaking out into laughter.

“Stanford… what in tarnation…” Fiddleford asked.

Stan grabbed Fiddleford's arm and took a step back.

“Didn't I just say he wasn't home?!” Ford said, tilting his head and smiling painfully wide.

“I don't think that's Ford…” Stan said, dragging Fiddleford back another step.

“DING DING! The idiot gets one point! I figured you'd be the one to catch on first, Fiddlesticks! How disappointing! You'd think you'd be better at recognizing the man you left your wife and kid for! Hilarious! How are they, by the way?! Or did you forget them?!”

“What- Stanford…” Fiddleford said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Fidds, something is seriously wrong, that is not my brother!” Stan said.

“‘Fidds?’ Damn, lesser twin, that's cold! Ruin your brother's life then steal his ex boyfriend, too?! Hah! No wonder he hates you!”

“What are you?!” Fiddleford asked, his voice shaking.

“Haven't figured it out, specs?! Hah! I thought you were supposed to be smart! What would Fordsy ever see in you?! You noticed his ‘sleepwalking’ and ‘weird behavior’, but even when I'm right in front of you you still can't put it together!”

“You're the one who came up with the portal idea.” Fiddleford said slowly, dread sitting heavy in his stomach, freezing him in place even as not-Stanford stepped closer to him.

“DING DING! Another winner! The name's Bill! It's a displeasure to finally meet you! You humans are so stupid! Once Fordsy finishes that portal your world will be mine! And another thing-”

Stan didn't wait to hear the rest. He grabbed a wrench from a nearby work table and swung, watching in horror as Ford crumpled to the ground.

“That was still Ford.” Fiddleford said, looking seconds away from passing out.

“What else was I supposed to do?! Let him keep sayin’ nonsense?! I mean-fuck! What the hell have you two been doing?! What is this portal you keep mentioning?!”

“It's a transuniversal metavortex.” Fiddleford said quietly. “A gateway into another dimension.”

“Why in the sci-fi hell would you want to build that?!” Stan asked.

“Because! He asked me to!” Fiddleford suddenly yelled, making Stan jump.

“I thought he forgot about me, Stanley.” Fiddleford said, quieter now. “I couldn't say no ta him after he called. I reckon lookin’ back now, I shoulda said no, but he was so excited-”

“Fidds!” Stan said, drawing Fiddleford from his quiet rambling. “Blaming yourself isn't going to do anything. All three of us have made some fucked up mistakes! Right now we need to find out what the hell that thing using my brother as a puppet is before he tries to turn on that sci-fi death triangle over there!”

“Triangle.” Fiddleford mumbled.

“Yes, a triangle. Glad you caught that part.” Stan deadpanned.

“I hafta dismantle the portal.” Fiddleford said, looking across the room at the machine. “Stan! We gotta stop this! We have to stop that demon!” Fiddleford grabbed Stan's arm and dragged him towards the portal.

“Missing leg, Fidds!” Stan said, trying to keep his balance on the dirt floor as Fiddleford pulled him.

“Right, sorry Stanley. I jus’ need yer help, There’s an emergency shut off. We can shut the whole thing down, but it takes two people!” Fiddleford said quickly, letting go of Stan's arm to rummage in his pockets for a set of keys. “Take this.” he said, pulling a key off the ring and handing it to Stan. “There's a spot in the control panel o’er there. I'll count ta three, then we both gotta turn the keys. Got it?”

“Fiddleford!” They heard Ford yell from behind them.

“Shit.” Stan swore, putting the key in his pocket and turning towards Ford. “Fuck you, you weird ass demon! Leave my brother and Fiddleford alone!”

“Demon?! Stanley, what are you talking about? What the hell happened?! The last thing I remember was you and Fiddleford fighting! Did he use the gun on me?!” Ford asked, panic rising in his voice.

“You happened, asshole! Don't play dumb with me, Bill!” Stan yelled back.

“Bill?! How do you know that name?” Ford asked, dumbfounded.

“Because he possessed ya! He told us his name, Stanford! How could ya trust a demon?! What happened to the idea for this darned portal bein’ ‘hard work’?!” Fiddleford yelled, finally joining in on the fight.

“He's not a demon! He's a higher being! A Muse!” Ford said. “I gave him permission to possess me as he saw fit, I just didn't expect him to do it now!”

“He possessed ya, Ford! That sure as heck sounds like a demon ta me!” Fiddleford responded.

“He- no- he…. he's my friend!” Ford said.

“You have got to be fucking with me!” Stan yelled. “Friends don't let you possess them and then shout insults at your actual friends!”

“Insults? He- he was joking. He loves joking, that's all.” Ford said frantically, taking a few wobbly steps towards Stan.

“Goddammit, Ford. You're too smart for this!” Stan said, turning away. “We're shutting this sci-fi nightmare down.”

“No!” Ford said, running down to meet them. “Stan, you can't!”

“I'm sorry, Ford.” Fiddleford said, making his way back to the machine on the other side of the lab.

Ford grabbed Stan's arm and yanked him backwards, miscalculating the amount of force he used and accidently throwing him against the control panel. Stan glared at him and lunged, grabbing him by the collar and pushing him backwards.

“Goddammit, Sixer! We're trying to help you!” He yelled.

“Help me? You have no idea what you're doing! You know nothing about Bill!” Ford said, sounding a bit unsure and pushing Stan back.

“Uh- fellas, careful ‘round that ‘quipment, there!” Fiddleford said, but the twins ignored him.

“I know enough! I know a con man when I hear one, Ford, and that demon is the ultimate con man!” Stan yelled, trying to walk away from Ford before he hurt him again, but Ford grabbed his arm and tried to drag him away from the control panel.

“How much of a con man can he be?! He was right, after all! I should have done better to keep you away from my project!” Ford snarled.

“Fuck you, Ford. If you want to believe that fucking monster over us, than fine, but we're shutting this down!” Stan said, pushing his brother as hard as he could, sending him falling backwards onto the lever in the middle of the room.

“No!” Fiddleford yelled, but it was too late. The portal crackled to life, filling the dark lab with an eerie blue glow.

“Oh shit.” Stan said, taking a step back.

“It works.” Ford said, smiling up at the light. “It works!”

“That ain't good, Stanford!” Fiddleford said, running over to try and drag Ford away. “We need ta shut it down!”

“We are not shutting it down!” Ford said, pushing Fiddleford away.

Ford tried to pull Stan away from the machine, but forgot, in all the commotion, about Stan's new peg leg. He grew up with Stan. He had seen him stand his ground against bullies twice his size. But that was back when he had two legs to stand on, so he was thrown off guard when Stan didn't stay standing. They both slid across the ground, over the yellow line where the portal could reach, and suddenly started to float.

“What the fuck?!” Stan exclaimed, flailing his arms and looking for anything to grab onto.

“Stanford! Stanley!” Fiddleford screamed, grabbing some spare cable from the ground and running towards them. “Grab on!”

“Tie it down!” Stan yelled, as he caught the cable and grabbed Ford's arm, holding on for dear life.

“I can't!” Fiddleford said as he started to slip.

The twins were much heftier than him and his shoes were not grippy enough to keep him down. He wrapped the cord around his wrist and reached behind him, trying to grab the lever to hold himself back, but his fingers just barely grazed it.

“Do something!” Stan yelled as Ford disappeared through the blue light. “Fiddleford!”

Stan melted into the blue after Ford as Fiddleford's feet lifted from the ground.

“Well, shit.” Fiddleford said, as he fell through the portal after them.

___________________________________________

This feels a bit like a cheesy movie scene. That's all I could think while I was writing it... but hey! We made it to the portal!

There is probably some serious plot issues with this scene, like was the portal even ready? Sure it was! It's January and they were going to test it in the next day or two, so... sure it was!

Would Bill leave Ford's mind if he was unconscious? Probably!?

Does Stan not hit very hard, because Fidds and Ford were both hit, and not out for very long?! Well, he was probably subconsiously holding back a bit- this is his brother and his new friend he met a whole day ago and would fight a literal god for.

Why does Stan immediately trust and want to protect Fidds?! He just be like that, okay? Fidds is someone important to his brother, therefore worth protecting.

Okay, I'll stop now.

I start a new job tomorrow, so the updates on this might slow down a bit... sorry. I need to survive in this failing economy.

#gravity falls #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #gravityfalls #fiddauthor #ford pines #stanley pines #gravity falls au #bill cipher #intridimensional au #skeletboi tag #intridimensional #skeletboitag

38 notes · View notes

ingravinoveritas · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!

Have you seen Georgia's insta story? She's filming david and one of the kids called her a creep

https://instagram.com/stories/georgiatennantofficial/3212913988487468030?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igshid=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==

The only purpose of the video is just showing that even the kids think that her filming david all the time is weird

Like, yeah all of it is probs a joke but it rubs me the wrong way🤔

What's your opinion? Your blog is the 1st place i go to when i see news abt DT, GO or MS

(Grouping together since these are related.)

Hi there! Oh, I hadn't seen Georgia's Insta story until I saw your Ask, so thank you for bringing it to my attention.

A little backstory, for those who haven't seen it: Today was David's panel at NYCC, and he started to tell an anecdote about being given a pair of shoes for Christmas when members of the audience began shouting out telling him to tie his (very pink) shoes that were untied on stage. David actually tied the shoes, and the video of the moment was posted by NYCC on Twitter. An hour or so later, Georgia jumped in with a response and at the same time, posted this story on Insta (and the photo in Georgia's tweet appears to be from the same day that the video was taken):

For my part, I was under the impression that this was not a recent video, so to your question @phantomstars24, I don't think she is actually at NYCC with David. Rather, it looks like Georgia was searching for David's name on Twitter (again) and found a place to jump in with the screenshot and video.

In giving my opinion on this, I have to reference Georgia's Insta story from last month at the festival she and David attended, where she recorded him while he was walking and eating his ice cream:

vimeo

Here, we see David take notice of the fact that Georgia is recording, after wondering why she was walking so slowly. He turns away for a moment, then looks back at her and says, "It's never gonna stop," and his voice is uncharacteristically...terse. He doesn't smile, or laugh, or give any indication that he is kidding (that I picked up on, at least). David's energy and the video as a whole just seemed off, but like many of Georgia's posts, it was written off as a joke.

The voice we heard of one of Georgia's children in today's video reminded me of that. Leaving aside the fact that this child actually flat-out called Georgia a "creep" (for which I'm also hard-pressed to find some alternate/jokey meaning) for recording David, the theme in both of these videos is Georgia constantly recording David for the sake of having content. And as we saw with today's Insta story, her then saving that content to use at a later date. I know the people who hate-read my blog will insist that Georgia gets permission from David before posting anything on social media and that he's fine with it, but it is really hard to think that he seems fine in the video from the festival. And how okay would any of us be if our partner constantly took video of us not to make cute memories, but so they can use it to prove a point later on?

As I've said before, all we get is this little slice of their lives that Georgia shares on social media. But increasingly, those little slices are starting to look like moments that might have been better left unrecorded/not posted to social media. To hear Georgia's own child call her out like that was jarring, but it also made me wonder how much they do see/what they think of what they are seeing. Even now it says something that they're already aware of her social media use and the lengths she is going to for content. (For that matter, I wonder what they will think in the future, such as if/when Birdie sees Georgia's Insta post calling her a "drunken accident"...)

Again, this could easily all be chalked up to me just missing whatever the joke/dry humor is here, but these were the impressions I had from seeing Georgia's content today. Happy as always to hear what others think, however, so feel free to chime in on this post...

#electronic-chocolate #phantomstars24 #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #georgia tennant #it is puzzling to me that everything with her gets written off as a joke #because at some point there are things that stop being funny #but it seems increasingly difficult to tell where that point is #i know if it were i would find it unsettling to be with someone who is constantly storing things away to use as 'ammunition'#but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #thoughts #nycc 2023 #discourse

281 notes · View notes

playbucky · 1 year ago

Text

Operation Safe House | 2 |

Price needs a safe house, you have a safe house. Should be an easy deal, right? Well when he and the team appear in the middle of the night, you come across Ghost, Gaz and Soap, all who are unsure of you an the solitude that you have. The solitude that will soon beep broken when the people they are hunting show up unannounced. Characters - Reader (Reaper), Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz. Word Count - 2k.

Part 1

‘Samuel, it’s Samuel Reagan.’ You faltered at their name, you looked at his broken fingers, they were bloody and had started to turn purple. ‘Who?’ ‘You heard me.’ He leaned closer, you clenched your jaw as you brought the rolling pin down, it connected with his fingers again. ‘Why is he here?’ You asked. ‘You helped the wrong people last month.’ Percy breathed out, your brows furrowed. ‘The two girls?’ You asked, not saying their names but he nodded. ‘Anya was his wife.’ He informed you. ‘You’re kidding?’ You said, he shook his head, ‘she was barely twenty.’ ‘Nineteen and he wants to know where they are.’ Percy said, you shook your head and stood up. ‘How did you know it was me?’ You quizzed, Percy chuckled and followed you up. ‘One of his men got close enough to watch, he was going to get in but you moved them before he could do anything.’ He explained, you pursed your lips. ‘And the team?’ You questioned and pointed behind you, they had fallen silent momentarily. ‘He hired me and I knew that if they were pushed hard enough they would go to a safe house.’ He said, you dropped the rolling pin onto the floor as you pushed up. ‘When is he coming?’ ‘Soon.’ ‘How soon?’ You asked, leaned his head back as he gave a tired smile. ‘You’ll find out.’ He commented, something snapped inside you before your arm swung forward and connected with his jaw, it cracked and he went backwards, the chair toppled with him. You went to climb on top of him but a large arm wrapped around your stomach and pulled you away, you fought against the person but they didn’t budge. ‘As much as we want to see you do it, now isn’t the time.’ Ghost stated as he set you down, you turned to him. You went to object but them movement on the security cameras caught your attention. You stalked away from the group and sat at the computer, you typed furiously and deleted anything that connected anyone that had came through the building. ‘What are you doing?’ ‘You need to leave.’ You told them, you stood up and pushed the chair back before you picked your computer up and dropped it to the ground, you stomped it a few times as the screen shattered. ‘Y/N who is Reagan to you?’ ‘Y/N -,’ a large bang filled the room, everyone ducked before guns were pulled out and aimed. ‘Looks like it stands up to a rocket launcher.’ You commented, you looked at the footage and noticed the large group of men that surrounded the house. ‘You guys should leave now.’ You told the four men who were bewildered by your calmness. ‘Reaper.’ ‘Reaper?’ Percy chuckled, you snapped around to him before you made eye contact with Price. ‘Take your team and leave, through the back.’ ‘What about you?’ Price asked, you titled your head to the side. ‘I’ll be fine.’ ‘I’m not leaving Captain.’ Soap said, you ignored him as you walked over and bent over Percy, his eyes widened before you freed his limbs of the ropes and pulled him up. ‘Neither am I sir.’ Gaz added, Percy tried to fight you but you grabbed his destroyed hand and twisted it behind his back so you could guide him to the area in front of the cracked door. Price looked at Ghost, eyebrow raised under the hat as Ghost tilted his head, Price sighed at the unanimous vote that everyone made. You kept Percy in front of you, your free hand moved along the wall before you found the panel. ‘Y/N.’ ‘Sorry boys.’ You apologised as you pressed the button and the heavy glass panelled door slid over, they tried to get through but it was useless.

They thumped against the glass before they stopped, you lifted your pistol of the counter it had been sat on earlier and moved, your back against the wall. Percy tensed up when you rested the gun on his shoulder, aimed at the door. Another loud bang filled the house, brightness seeped in from outside as you ducked behind Percy, muffled voices sounded before Percy’s head was flung back, his blood coating everything. Before his body dropped to the ground another shot was fired, you were flung into the wall, a bullet lodged in your chest the gun fell from your hand. The task force watched as you smiled, Reagan appeared, he turned his head to the panel and then back to you. It was a two-way panel. ‘Gaz, get this open.’ Ghost commanded, he moved to the edge were it should be connected to the panel. They watched as you and Reagan talked, your lips moving as your face remained stoic, Reagan got angrier. Suddenly he lurched forward, his wide hand wrapped around your throat as he straightened your back, leaning closer to you and whispered into your ear. He pulled back with a smile that you returned, your leg jerked out, his knee went backwards and he dropped down. You leaned down and moved to beside his ear, you silently told him something as your hand slid into his suit jacket, you pulled it out to reveal the silver gun pressed against his chest. ‘Got it.’ Gaz announced, the door slid open as you fired the gun. Reagan slouched and you waited for the waves of bullets to come your way but you were quickly pulled the to side and Soap and Ghost fired out the front door. Price guided you to the couch and lowered you into it, you yelled when he pressed down on the bullet wound. He yanked you forward to see if there was an exit wound, which there wasn’t, he leaned you back. ‘Need to get you to a hospital love.’ He said, the heel of his hand pressed against the bleed. ‘I told you to leave.’ You tired to pull away from the pressure. ‘Not gonna happen.’ Ghost said, you glared at him as he and Soap walked back over, you noticed the pile of bodies at the front door. ‘Who opened the door?’ ‘I did ma’am.’ Gaz said, you groaned at being called that before you noticed the whole in the wall, the cables pulled out and sliced. ‘Hope your gonna pay to get that fixed.’ You joked, Gaz’s lips curled and he looked away. ‘Soon as you’re better ma -,’ ‘Call me ma’am one more time, please, try it.’ You warned him, he stopped and took a step back. ‘Stop threatening my team, you should be focused on getting out of here.’ Price said, you slid your eyes to him before you sighed. ‘Press the star key and then leave.’ You gritted out. ‘What?’ ‘You can’t be linked to any of this, you can’t be in the system, they will be here within ten minutes so you’ve got to go.’ You told them, they shook their heads. ‘We aren’t -,’ ‘Leave.’ You snarled, you pulled away from Price and pressed your own hand against the wound.

You stepped through the automatic doors, the busy hospital gave way to the chaotic street, silence was hard to find here. You inhaled deeply, wincing as your shoulder pulled in the sling. Rolling your neck you turned and went to walk away but a loud whistle pulled you from your thoughts. ‘Need a ride love?’ Price called out, you looked at the group that waited around the black jeep, Ghost situated in the front passenger seat whilst Gaz and Soap leaned out the back window and waved. ‘What are you guys doing here?’ You quizzed as you walked over to them so the conversation wasn’t being shouted. ‘Thought you might need a pick-up.’ He said. ‘I can get the bus.’ You motioned to the bus stop about twenty feet away. ‘You saved us, we can give you a ride back home.’ Gaz commented from the back, you look at him. ‘I don’t have a home anymore.’ You reminded them. ‘Yeah, you do.’ ‘Pretty sure it’s in pieces.’ ‘With us, you’ve got a spot with us.’ Price said, your brows furrowed as you looked at him. ‘What?’ ‘We discussed it and talked to our bosses, and we think it’d be good for you to join us, become part of the one four one.’ Price said, you looked to the group who watched you expectantly. ‘I can’t impose.’ You held your good hand up. ‘You aren’t, we offered, you can say yes or no either way you will be seeing us.’ Price said, you raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that a threat?’ ‘It’s a promise.’ Ghost spoke up, you looked at him before you sighed. ‘We don’t want to replace the team that you lost,’ you lowered your head, ‘but we want you to became part of us, you belong taking down bad guys and helping behind the lines instead of sitting in a house waiting for them to stumble onto you.’ Price said, you rolled your neck. ‘When would I start?’ ‘Now?’ Price said, ‘we’re heading back to base to write up reports and gather ourselves before we head out.’ He finished, you nodded. ‘Okay.’ ‘Soap, Gaz move over.’ Ghost told the men as they did, Price reached for the door and opened it for you.

121 notes · View notes

pixeldistractions · 2 months ago

Text

She made this camper so cozy. Who would have thought you could bake bread from scratch in a Dutch oven over the campfire? She served blackberry preserves on toast, planted herbs in tiny pots on the counter, then she filled the produce baskets with actual fresh produce. “That’s what they’re there for, silly,” she said. She watched camper hack videos on YouTube—a cutting board over the sink for more counter space. How clever. She noted the dimensions, and he cut it to size for her. She bought string lights to hang under the awning, a decorative citronella candle for the picnic table.

“You shouldn’t buy so much,” he said. “You don’t need to. If you wait, I’ll buy it for you.”

But he couldn’t, not really, not while also fixing the solar panel and manifesting walls out of scraps and sending back money for his boys. She shouldn’t have to wait for her home to feel homey. He wanted her to feel at home here, so he kept quiet and tried not to notice if she went to Target again for throw blankets or rugs, or towel racks and pot holders. He would just unbox the hardware and install it for her.

It was a silly idea anyway that if they lived simply enough, frugally enough, he might provide everything they needed and wanted, and maybe he could imagine himself the exact opposite of the freeloading loser Colette always said he was.

But Jordan did pick up some work. Very good work, actually. He snagged a small contract with a local university, upgrading their dorm plumbing, and that would keep him occupied for a couple of weeks. It was a nice chunk of change, though of course, Colette would want some of it.

Still, he would have enough money to finish the last of the major repairs. Finally. The only thing left was to replace the solar battery converter, ironically, now that they were plugged into the power grid.

The nights were longer now, but still cozy enough in the lower altitudes of Nevada to spend the evenings outside. They had dinner by the sunset’s last light, then they settled in beside the campfire.

“You don’t have to spend all your money on that battery thing,” she said. “I can pay for some of it.”

“No, you don’t have to. I’ll just pick up a couple more jobs.”

He was weird about taking her money, and she wondered why?

“Okay, I need you to talk to me,” she said, hushed, after taking note that Johanna wasn’t paying any attention to them.

He looked startled, like he was in trouble. She smiled. “No, it’s not like that, don’t worry,” she said. “But, there’s something I’ve been wondering about… why don’t you want me to pay for anything?”

His eyebrows raised, lips pinched.

She stroked his fingers while he refrained from answering her question. “You’re my best friend, you know?”

“You’re mine, too,” he said.

“And best friends tell each other things.”

“I’m… embarrassed of it.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“Okay…” An audible swallow, a slight squirm, a deep breath. “I was younger, twenty-two, after my dad died. I was in a lot of trouble with the foreclosure and some credit debts. So when Colette and I got friendly again, I let her help me out with it. But it didn’t stop there. It was like I would never live that down for the rest of my life, like even after I paid her back, no matter how much money, no matter how much effort, no matter that I stayed home with the boys for two whole years while she finished school, I could never pay her back enough to be even. I still can’t.”

“First, that’s really cruel,” Maria said. “Second, I wouldn’t do that to you. Third, it’s only $800, we can go halves.”

“Yeah, it’s only $800, then I can earn that much in three jobs. Will you let me?”

Every time she felt she might have found an opening to confess her terrible secret wealth, the moment proved to be exactly wrong. “Yeah, of course. But next time, I’ll help. Deal?”

“Sure. But you need to let me make it up to you for all those cozy pillows you bought,” he said, smirking now. She was glad to see that startled panic gone.

“Those pillows were nothing,” she said. “I got them in the clearance section.”

She didn’t know how to tell him that the battery converter would make barely a dent in her savings, and she also wasn’t convinced he would see that as a good thing. It seemed important that he paid for this himself. So she would let him. This time.

— “boxes and squares #5.2: come down from the clouds” (2/10)

previously: a freeloading loser // that money is not for spending on your boyfriend

Next -> // 5.2 start // index

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sims story #sim stories #jordan #maria

21 notes · View notes

seneitut · 2 years ago

Note

omg your gekko fanfic is amazing, i love it so much a cute jealousy plot??? amazing can I req another gekko fic with a gn or male reader where there's some jealousy and physical touch involved? ty if you take the request! <3

“A little bit in love, a little bit dumb”

[Gekko/M!Reader]

Words: 7K

Tags: Fluff, slight jealousy, medical terms, gay crisis, Gekko being a simp for male reader, NSFW (+18)

[I kind of went wild with this request I'm so sorry and I hope is to your liking ;_;]

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

In the middle of training, you fail to notice Sage at the panel of control, regarding your fight from afar in silence.

She watches you swing from every corner, wasting many bullets and missing targets that were easily killable. The strain in your muscles, the tight expression tugging at the corner of your mouth, the wavering of your wrists when recoiling from firing; whatever training you were going under, it was hurting you in ways it would leave irreparable damage.

Warnings were made when you began with this masochist training, hours and hours put into polishing your aim and battle sense to its sharpness. And despite the multiple times Sage has called you out, you never yielded.

This is partly her fault, should she have seen the pain you were going through, actions would have been taken in advance instead of melee warnings. It is part of her duty to survey and keep in check every agent's health: mentally and physically. Foremore, mental stability is a priority to her after the many battles that have taken place; if she herself was in dire need of therapy and often tries meditation as a way to control her emotions, she doesn’t want to think how the others were fairing.

Perhaps a conversation might take place after you’re done, with the hopes you will hear her out. Watching you fight, she wonders how you’re dealing with the pain, and if there is any sort of backlash.

-------

You were having the time of your life! Although having a guardian instead of a vandal was rough, too used to the sound and precision the other gun gave you, it didn’t lessen the excitement coursing through you when you got a kill, despite missing multiple targets.

Sometimes missions could go wrong, and funds wouldn't be enough to cover for a pricey gun to carry and fight with; to master others weapons is what could determine a win or lose in the battlefield, and you don’t want to take any chances.

The recoil from the guardian was stronger than the vandal, not as close to the operator though, but somehow, your shoulders were having a hard time adjusting to this new hold, almost to the point the pain could be unbearable.

At last, the remaining bot drops broken, having head-shot it from a distance. Breathing out, and proud of the number you’ve got, you turn around to exit the range, not giving much thought about your score and brushing off strands of hair that stuck to your sweaty forehead.

You cannot wait to brag about this to Jett, giddy at the idea of impressing her and, maybe, annoying her with how far you’ve gone with the guardian. She’s always teasing and picking on you whenever your shots fail with weapons as simple as a ghost; it is not your fault she’s gotten the training way before your arrival at the protocol.

“Your frustrated expression is really cute.” Gekko commented once, a bright smile adorning his face. “It's a shame Jett has to annoy the shit out of you to witness it.”

Blushing furiously, you shake your head in hopes to clear it from the recent memory, ignoring the fuzziness and jumble of emotions it causes to your heart. Now is not the time to be swooning over a boy—whose chances of liking you are none to zero—your priority being to get better and, maybe, deal with this shitty feeling hovering over your heart.

For god's sake you sound like a high schooler.

When the doors open, you are soon to forget your mushy thoughts, facing Sage with her arms crossed and a frown visible between her brows. It feels like you’ve been caught red handed doing something you didn’t know about.

“Uh, something wrong?” you ask, biting your lip in anxiouness.

“Quite.” She replies, cocking her head to the side. “Do me a favor and raise your arms.”

Blinking, you follow her instructions, rolling your shoulders until your bone cracks. What follows is immediate pain, having to bite your tongue to not whine from the shuddering in your muscles. Gasping, you lower them, panic and confusion swimming in your eyes.

“E-Er, I'm good, as you can see.” you lie. Sage narrows her eyes. “It hurts a little, but is okay.”

The healer calls your name softly, exasperated, but keeping in the stern expression, “We’ve talked about this before. You can’t keep going like this without supervision.”

Wincing, you avoid her stare. Deciding to keep silent is the best course of action instead of talking back, since she’s right. Guilt gnaws your insides for overseeing her suggestions and demands on taking better care of yourself.

“Please, follow me.”

Leaving the guardian at the range’s weapon storage, you turn to the door with Sage leading the way. The silence enveloping you both was heavy, but neither of you dared to say a thing to break from it; you were embarrassed, and she was too submerged in her thoughts.

At the back of your mind, you find the situation odd. It feels embarrassing to feel like you were getting scolded for doing your job, sort of, and the least you want is someone witnessing the scene without context and assuming the worst.

Turning a corner, you bump into Gekko and Neon, the boy stopping dead on his tracks to not run over you nor Sage and extending his arm so Neon won't cause a domino effect. You blink at them, heart flipping inside your ribcage when Gekko directs a smile towards you.

“Yo’, what’s up?” huffing a breath of laughter, he greets. Neon waves her hand excitedly, a grin tugging her mouth.

Sage doesn't stop for a second, walking past them with an apologetic smile, “We're in a little hurry, if you will excuse us.”

“Ah, sorry Sage!” His hazel eyes travel to yours, squinting in the corners when he grins widely, “Will I see you later?”

Nodding your head, you try to tone down the excitement in your voice, “Yeah! Yes, sure, um, let me know when you’re free.”

Winking, Gekko grabs Neon by the wrist and tugs her down the hallway. She exclaims something along the lines of being electrocuted if he keeps his touch longer than necessary and the other manages to laugh brightly, dismissing her warnings.

Something about that scene tugs strings in your heart, numbness overwriting the giddiness. Your hands twitch on your sides and your lips tighten on a straight line, confusion beginning to engulf your insides.

When Sage notices you weren't following, she stands still for a while, wondering about the hold up when something more important was on the line. Her sight sets on the pair running down the hallway, just where you’re still looking at, and she can’t help but smile slightly at the silliness of the situation.

Ah, a boy in love, she thinks, to be young again.

“You alright?” Sage lays a hand on your shoulder, shaking you out of your thoughts. “Shall we go?

You nod absently, sighing deeply. Sage leads you away to the medical parlor.

Your mind is soon occupied with the many tests the healer runs on you. Some more embarrassing than others, but necessary for her to reach a certain conclusion about whatever was happening in your body. The memory of Gekko is forgotten pretty soon with the stern glare she throws your way when you try to escape throughout the process.

“Keep still or else.”

She doesn’t need to finish her threat for you to obey.

And with reason, when the report of your exams reaches Sage’s hand, you are sure whatever was inside the folder was not good. Going over the results, her eyes roam the papers at a fast pace, nervousness seeping from your pores at the mere prospect something was wrong with you.

“You are in the fine line between having rhabdomyolysis and being fine.” she determines, closing the folder. “And this is because of the hard-working training you have gone under by yourself.”

“Oh,” Touching your arm with care, you lock your eyes with her. “What even is randolosis?”

“Rhabdomyolysis,” she corrects, “to summarize, your muscles are deteriorating and dying without the proper rest in between harsh activities. There are toxic components the fibers of the dead muscles produce, and is life-threatening if it were to enter your circulation system, leading to possible kidney damage.”

The news shouldn’t have shocked you as it did, shuddering at the thought you were so close to something that could endanger your life.

“Is…easy to solve, right? Can you fix this?”

“Not as you might think, it is treatable because we've found it on time. But you have to promise me multiple things before we begin, or else you’ll be sitting out from future missions and scouting teams. Am I understood?”

The urge to refute is strong, but remembering you were at fault, you decide to accept whatever her conditions were.

“Firstly, I’ll assign you to physical therapy to deal with the damaged muscles, alright? Breach will help you out with that.” When you don't react in a negative way, she continues, “Secondly, I’ll ask you to please accept one of the seniors as your coach for your next sessions on the range and forward.”

“But-!”

“No, not hearing it.” She cuts in, “Either you choose your own coach or I’ll assign one to you, understood?”

You nod.

“Thirly, and most importantly, I’ll ask Omen to be in charge of you for mental therapy. He will help you try ways to reduce stress and hopefully, manage your emotions in a healthy way instead of tearing yourself into pieces at the range.”

Oh, you think, Omen?

Out of all the people she could think of, Omen was the most prepared for this sort of thing? You won’t go against her way of thinking, but the choice makes you doubt whether you will get along with the wraith to spend more than an hour together in a room.

Is not that you don't get along with him, rather you haven't spent enough time with him outside missions to know what he's really like.

“At last,” motioning you to sit on the bed, she fixes your short hair until you’re no longer a mess in her eyes, “If you feel any sort of way towards another agent, please remember to keep it a secret, since is not allowed these kind of…fraternization.”

You sputtered, flustered by the implication of her words.

“Is not my place to say this, but you are quite obvious with your infatuation.”

“Sage, I- no, please, don’t misunderstand things.” Trying to explain yourself is such a nuisance to your own ears, embarrassed to the core at being found out. “I don’t like Gekko like that, he’s just, he’s just a good friend!”

“I never said anything about Gekko.”

Oh.

“Please don’t tell him.” You beg, panic rising inside your chest, “Don’t tell anyone about it. I don’t want the other agents to know I-, that I-”

Sighing, she turns around to grab her device, “It is not my business, you should not worry about that.” Sage glances at you briefly, watching your expression turn sour and sensing you crumbling in her office bed over a simple crush.

But, in honesty, it goes way deeper than that.

Coming from a society where loving people of the same sex is frowned upon, openly admitting to liking someone who is a boy drives you into anxiety that is not easy to control. Having to sit in silence for the many years upcoming and hiding who you really were from everyone’s eyes has been hard; but that doesn’t deterrer you nor stop you to accept whatever fate had ready for you.

The story changes when you’re exposed unwillingly. Completely out of your control, you don’t know how to handle someone else knowing about this delicate topic.

“Why do you seem in so much distress?” She asks, approaching you with carefulness in her actions.

Biting your lip, you shake your head. Both your hands are tight in fists, controlling your breathing with heavy intakes of air to keep yourself calm and collected. There is a slight moment of consideration of telling Sage about your worries, thinking that she might understand your situation; but the fear is bigger, clouding your senses.

Sage calls your name softly, worry overtaken her features. “Hey, breathe with me, inhale, and exhale.”

She holds your hands through the whole ordeal, waiting for you to calm down and come back to your senses. It takes a long while for you to register that she's still there with you, holding your hand and rubbing your back in soothing motions.

There is a moment of rushing panic when someone knocks the door; eyes raising to see Omen hover over the threshold. Caught off guard, the wraith apologizes and goes back into the hallway while closing the door, giving you both time to compose yourselves.

“Are you alright?” Sage nudges your elbow softly, trying to get your attention.

Not trusting your own voice to come as steady as you want it, you nod, squeezing her hand holding you still. Sage brushes your short hair in soothing motions, giving you time and silence until you're better.

Once your heart stops beating furiously and evens to a normal rhythm, you nod, letting her know all is okay now and can get a hold of yourself.

“So…therapy?” you ask timidly. Sage sighs tiredly, a smile tugging at her lips for the change in conversation.

“Quite.” she replies, asking Omen to come inside the medical room. “Your mind needs to find a healthy way to let loose the straining and manage your emotions.”

Drained to the core, you ask, “Are you calling me emotional constipated now?”

“Yes.”

You wince at her boldness, but it is a fair assumption, “A little rude, but okay.”

“Omen will help you channel your energy into something less violent and helpful for your mind. While you go at it, I'll be requesting an IV for your treatment later today,” Making her way to your files, she revises them in silence, leaving you and Omen standing there awkwardly.

A few seconds pass by until the healer notices both were still there.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sage frowns, shooing you both, “Go off, both know what to do. I’ll get back to you later when I’m finished with my tasks.”

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

The way to the common sharing space in the protocol is quiet. The wraith has said nothing the entire way but to follow him to a more secluded area for privacy.

Despite the room being open and for everyone, most don't spend the time lounging here, but rather take their time to do something more productive instead of lacking off.

“So, Omen,” you begin, breaking the ice. The other acknowledges you with a soft hum, “what is it you're gonna teach me to…uh, canalize emotions?”

“I will help you with focus,” he replies. Mouthing an ok, you follow him to the couch.

Taking a seat, you watch him go around the room gathering a basket and yarn from a box in the corner. He fixes some long needles in his hands before approaching and handing them to you.

“What-”

“We're gonna knit.”

What the fuck.

He goes over a few of the yarn he's brought, choosing one with a soft gray color and knots them into his own needles. You follow his movements with a closer look, trying to memorize the patterns but futile with how fast he goes over his first row.

“Um, Omen?” you ask, “I didn't quite get what you did, do you mind doing it slower?”

“Of course.”

He detangles what's done, and this time, he goes over the motions at a slower rate to which you are thankful. The knots being made are repetitive and easier to follow, concentrating on every little detail before trying to mimic it.

Omen kneels in front of you when you settle with the tools, watching in silence how you knot the yarn to start making your first row. He leaves his needles on the side to focus entirely on helping you out.

“I’ve never thought knitting would help you relax.” you mutter. Omen grunts softly, fixing your hands position with a nudge of his knuckles. “Is harder than I thought, though.”

“It takes patience.” Taking the gray yarn, he detangles a few strands to help you ease the thread. “You get used to it, it becomes mechanical with time.”

You keep on pushing the tip of the needle until it takes part of the yarn, the first stitch, and repeat the motion with the next loose loops, finishing your first row of the knitted yarn within a couple of minutes.

Omen nods approvingly, “Good. Keep a strong grip on the needles. Here.”

His hands are cold to the touch when he covers yours to fix the positioning and grip. He guides you in slow motion the next step, to transfer the first row to another needle, a thicker one, for easier access. He’s speaking in a low voice, reverberating your insides pleasingly with how smooth it sounds.

The closeness of Omen feels strange in some ways.

Since his body is not entirely corporeal, you can feel the vibrations and smoke that tries to escape from the wrapped bandages around his body. When Omen speaks, there is an after sound that seems like he is purring when concentrated; is low, but easily detectable. Was it on purpose? Unconscious?

You want to tell him it sounds cute, but not knowing if it would cross any boundaries, you refrain from making the comments.

It is tempting, though.

“There, now you’ve got it.”

It takes you a while to know what he’s talking about, watching between the needles at hand to him in front of you. Omen doesn’t have facial expressions, so it is hard to guess what kind of thoughts are running through his mind right now.

But when he laughs softly, a blush spreads to your cheekbones to the point you want to hide your face underground. The lines of light on his face vibrate with every chuckle coming from him.

You shouldn’t be finding that attractive just now.

“Did you hear anything I said just now?”

“Yeah! Yes! Of course, I-!” leaning on the backseat, you cough embarrassed. “Um, I did not.”

Omen nods in understanding, but you doubt he actually knows the whys of the distraction. Does he even know how distractible he is?

“Let's go over it again, shall we?” when you nod, he hovers his hands on top of yours again, hesitating whether to touch again or leave it be.

When you smile, it gives him the green light to proceed with his explanation and this time, you hear the instructions and try to concentrate on his words instead of the pleasing touch of his hands.

Once the second row is finished, you think you get the hang on it.

“I think I got it!” You say. Omen nods approvingly. “Will you keep helping me if I get stuck?”

“Of course,” resting his hands on your lap, he continues, “is not always that I have a companion for when I knit. Would love to have you around for longer.”

Touched by his words, you swear to keep him company for as long as he wants you to be here.

“Maybe when I get better at this, we can do something together!”

Omen laughs softly, “It would be lovely.”

“Sorry,” a voice cuts in, making you gasp in surprise, “am I interrupting?”

In the middle of the room, Gekko stands there awkwardly, a deep frown apparent on his face, looking from the joined hands to the position he's found you both in.

You blink, surprised to see him there. Usually at this hour, Gekko spends his time at the range with Harbor to train his abilities, not lounging around the base aimlessly and lost like he does now.

Omen is the first to react, squeezing your hands before standing up. “You are not interrupting. Do you need something?”

Shifting his weight, Gekko glances at Omen and back to you, coughing slightly and mouth tight on a line.

“I thought you were going to be alone,” he says, muttering your name. “Are you going to take long?”

Looking between the needles at hand and Omen still standing in front of you, you nod, quietly apologizing for the inconvenience to both of them, “Sage has recommended me for some therapy, it hasn’t been ten minutes since we’ve begun so I’ll stick here for a little more.”

“Kay’, cool.” Gekko walks to where you’re seated, plopping on the couch and crossing his arms. “You don’t mind me waiting here, right?”

The wraith shakes his head, “On the contrary, feel free to do what you must.”

Next couple of minutes ends up with Gekko keeping silent while he watches you interact with the other, eyes narrowing whenever his hands guide yours in a complicated thread you get lost in.

Omen’s voice is soothing enough it makes you forget your nervousness of having your crush right there, concentrating fully on what you’re making. Despite your initial thoughts, the mental therapy could end up being something you could do in your free time. Because just like Sage suggested, your focus is solely on the object at hand instead of the events happening around you.

To canalize and handle your emotions better, will it really go to that length where you’ll be able to not melt under Gekko’s stare whenever his attention is on you? You know she didn’t mean your romantic emotion towards the other specifically, but rather how to deal with the whole package in stressful situations.

Looking from the corner of your eyes, you stifle in embarrassment when you cross his eyes. Gekko’s expression, sour and obviously upset, warps into a more open and happy one. Feeling cheeky, Gekko winks at you, making you falter in your action and warmness fills your face at being caught.

“Enjoying the view, pretty boy?” he teases, a grin tugs at his lips.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Gekko laughs brightly at that, leaning in to get a better look at what you’re doing. Your fingers work quicker now, pressure building the longer he stares without saying anything. And you don’t know what’s worse, having him right there sitting in silence, or rather wanting him to talk non-stop with his bad flirting and comments to make you flustered.

“How’s it coming?” Omen asks from another couch, his own work laying on his lap. Raising the little rows you’ve made so far for him to review, he grunts in approval, leaving his yarn on the side.

He kneels in front of you, inspecting the loops with carefulness. Once again, he guides your hands to the next steps, widening the size of what you’re doing. His hands feel warmer this time, softer, and you chase after the feeling when he tries to back away by taking it between your hands.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, voice uncertain. You shake your head, sending him a soft smile.

“You’re warm.” your thumbs run over his palm, fascinated with the waves of smoke coming from the bandages, “Is…really warm now, compare from before, how?”

Turning his hand around, he inspects it quietly, “Not certain.The composition of my own body is unknown, and so are the changes it goes through most of the time.”

Nodding, you let go of him, a little nervous for may have crossed a boundary right here. But Omen doesn’t say anything for a long time, his hands lay on your lap, unmoving, considering your words about whether his warmth had something to do with you or just the occasion of sharing one of his hobbies with someone else.

“So I was interrupting something.”

Gekko huffs, annoyance clear on his expression, leaving with angry stomps echoing the room, creating a bad atmosphere for both of you.

Neither you nor Omen know what set him off to be this upset, glancing between the place Gekko’s just left to each other, confusion palpable in the air.

“I’ll go get him, make sure he is okay.”

“Sure.” Stepping to the side, Omen lets you gather your things inside the basket he’s brought from the beginning, fixing your needles with care onto the side and handing it back to him.

“Is it okay if we continue this tomorrow?”

“Of course,” patting your back, he lets you go after the other agent.

Is not until you are out of sight does he sigh tiredly, starting to organize the baskets and yarns laying around.

Sage was right, your mental health was the least of your problems if you have someone as jealous as Gekko going after you. The poor thing didn’t understand Omen was able to perceive others emotions through their wavelengths and heartbeats, similar as to what Reyna does to intimidate her enemies.

Gekko’s love, or strong feelings towards you, was enough to overwhelm him. It got harder to deal with when he spotted you both knitting together, innocent as it might look, the other felt threatened by the sight of his loved one in hands with another who wasn’t him.

The animosity is something he doesn't like to perceive, he hopes whatever you do might calm him down next time for your session.

Anyway, at the end of the day, it was up to you two to figure out whatever was going on there.

He has enough with his own love life to deal with another’s.

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

Finding Gekko is not that hard if you know enough about his habits, spotting him at the range with an operator and shooting bots after bots with a ferocity that makes you tremble.

An odd sight, in truth, and it could only mean one thing.

He is pissed as fuck.

Have not been spotted yet, you walk right outside the windows while admiring his figure from a distance. He is not sporting his usual green vest, only a simple black t-shirt hugging his torso in the nicest way possible. The straining in his arms is noticeable, even from where you’re standing now, his muscles are big and to die for.

Gekko's always been easy on the eye, eye-candy, as some would say. Attractive, handsome, with a pretty face and a body that makes you stare for hours and hours to not end. You hate it makes you feel nervous whenever he is in the vicinity, by just a simple glance, he has you wrapped around his finger and you bet everything he has no idea about that fact.

Killing his fifth bot in a row, an ace, you decide to enter the range, ready to face him and start questioning his behavior with Omen back then.

The opening door echoes within the place, enough of a big call for Gekko to know someone else was with him. But before you could say anything, he beats you to it, not even turning around to acknowledge whoever was behind him.

“I don’t want to talk.” He shoots one bot down. “I’m not in the mood to entertain you in conversation, Neon.”

Neon?

“Estúpido Omen,” another bot down. “I thought I was being obvious enough, but he didn't get the hint and now he's all cuddly wobbly with Omen.”

Confusion and embarrassment is written clear on your face at the confession; mostly confusion because what the fuck does cuddly wobbly even means?

He misses one shot, “Fuck! I can't even think straight now!”

Sighing in irritation, he leaves the operator to the side and sits on the floor, whining in annoyance and covering his face with his hands.

“Am I the stupid one for reading the cues wrong?” Gekko laments. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Anxiousness is the first reaction your body seems to process, making you unable to mutter a word because of the implications of what Gekko just said. There is silence hanging in the air where all you can hear is your own heartbeat and heavy breathing, grounding yourself with your fidgeting hands.

Is it weird? You think is weird, the whole situation is weird and odd and ridiculous and, your brain is going into overdrive and making you all jittery and panic and an overwhelming urge to scream gets stuck in your throat.

“I love him.” Groaning, he turns around this time, “I really love h-”

Oh boy.

His expression is priceless and quite funny; eyes wide open in surprise and mouth hanging open mid sentence. But you are unable to comment on it, panic seizing you, and mimicking his face from the sheer surprise.

Gekko has just confessed his love for you, openly and honestly.

You should feel happy about it, right? Jumping around in excitement and holding his hand while you confess your own feelings to him and then you can have your own happy ending like you’ve always wanted-

Next you know, you’re running away from the range.

It becomes something out of a romcom, where one lead follows the other while they run away. The first thing that comes to mind is Pride and Prejudice, the scene where Jane runs from the church and Darcy follows after her to profess his love and how madly in love he was with her.

The rapid footsteps behind you proves to you this is not any kind of romantic movie, but out of a horror one with how close Gekko is approaching. When you dare to take a peak you cannot help the screech of fright at seeing him just a couple of steps behind.

“Why are you following me you sicko?!”

“Because I need to explain myself!” he replies, trying to catch the back of your shirt. “Stop running, please! I’m already so tired!”

Turning around a corner you open the first door you see, cursing loudly when it happens to be a simple bathroom instead of another passage like you wanted it to be. But by the time you back away, Gekko is closing the door behind him, blocking the exit while he tries to catch his breath.

“Dios! You run so fucking fast, what the hell.” Leaving the lock on, he then begins to approach you, taking heavy intakes of air.

Cornered, you try to make distance in the tiny space, nervousness crawling on your insides with how heavily he’s looking at you. You feel your cheeks warm at the sight of his own flushed face and shirt sticking to his chest, gulping nervously when Gekko smirks.

“Eyes are up here, sweetling.”

Shut the fuck up, you want to say, but bite your tongue to not fall under his teasing.

“I won't go around the bush, since I've opened my heart to you already; although mistakenly because I thought I was talking to Neon.” Taking your hand slowly, as if testing the waters to not scare you, he leans on and lets you touch his chest, right above his heart. “Can you feel it? It's beating for you right now.”

Trembling, you clutch at his shirt, lips tightening and heart screaming with euphoria and love from his open admission.

“Gekko,” gulping down, you dare to look him in the eye, “don't, I'm—”

“You don't love me?” he asks, a devastated expression paints his face.

“No, no! I'm just— confused, I guess…” when he doesn't say anything, you decide to keep going, “I thought you…you weren't like me. I thought you liked women just like everyone else.”

Gekko blinks at your statement.

“You know what I mean, right?” he clearly doesn't. “Neon was the possible candidate to date you, and it seemed you were really close…”

Bursting out laughing, Gekko backs away, trying to calm down with the sudden fit by covering his mouth. The ridiculousness of your situation is hilarious, because how? How is it possible you were blinder than him in all aspects in the matters of love?

And to expect him, out of all the people, to like Neon? His bestie?

“Boy, Neon is not into me, as you might think.” He giggles, “I bet you didn't even know she was with someone else already?”

“...no.”

“Figures.” With the remainder of his laughter, he approaches again, this time with a more confident stance. “If that was your concern, you are safe to assume we are nothing more than friends.”

A serious stare and an open hand, he goes on, “I want to question you now, if I may, is there something going on between you and Omen?”

“Huh?” frowning, you shake your head. “Today you've witnessed my first interaction with him.”

Huffing, he rolls his eyes, “Suuuuuurely. He seems to get acquainted real quick.”

“He was just helping me knit?”

“As if!” he exclaims, “Omen was flirting with you, and you didn't even notice!”

“I don’t understand where Omen falls into this conversation. This is the first time I had an interaction with him.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem like it, he got real handsy with you huh.”

“What even? And why does that concern you?”

“Are you for real now?” He takes your face between his hands, noses touching and lips inches apart. Your heart jumps inside your ribcage at the closeness,and any impulse of flight evaporates with a single touch, “I’ve told you I love you, that I don’t want anything with anybody, and you ask me why does this concern me?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Are you this dumb?”

“What the fuck, you’re so rude! Let me go!” You try to push him away, but he doesn’t move nor let you go. “Gekko, really, let me go now, I need to meet with Sage before she gets upset at me.”

“I don’t understand.” he mutters, his thumb strokes your lower lip, stopping your fight, “You’ve yet to reject me if you don’t feel the same, but all you’re doing is changing subjects or trying to get away from me.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why?” His breath mingles with yours, his hazel eyes don't leave yours at any moment, “Why won't you say either answers? I love you.”

At the touch of his lips, a whole shiver runs down your spine, seizing you to close your eyes and follow his lead. Your arms go by slowly, engulfing his neck with a tight hold to keep him in place while he moves his lips softly against yours.

It’s heavenly. Gekko tastes heavenly, with his soft lips and tongue intertwining with yours, you kiss him like you’ve never kissed anyone in your life; swallowing every noise and grunt coming from him, passion and love pouring with every move.

He breaks from the kiss, breathing heavily and cheeks shaded in a darker color; the silly smile on his face is a wonderful sight.

“I love you, tonto.” he whispers, stealing another kiss. You gasp into his lips when his hands find purchase on your thighs, roaming your sides with want until he grabs a handful of your ass shamelessly. “Why can't you understand that?”

Because up until today, it never crossed your mind Gekko would be just like you. A little bit dumb and head over heels for another man. And this time, the boy you are so in love with is accepting everything you are and more despite not giving him a straight answer.

Gekko cages you against the wall, bodies flushed together and hips slotting against yours; his hands are touching, pinching and smacking with greed every inch of your body and you don't know how to deal with the overwhelming urge to keep begging for more when his hands try to go under your shirt, feeling you up without shame. His mouth travels from your lips to your neck, sucking at one particular spot in your collarbone that has you weak in your knees, breath hitching in surprise and hands clinging onto his broad back.

Finding that leaving hickeys in plain sight of your body has him reeling in desire, Gekko dives in to keep biting and sucking on the tender skin until it changes to a darker color.

No matter your protests from taking this somewhere else, embarrassed someone might walk in, he keeps going, licking a strip from your neck to your earlobe and kissing your cheek with tenderness when you rut your hips unconsciously. His hand travels to your ass again, squeezing it with greed, and helping you guide your movements with more precision against his own hard-on.

“I've been in love with you for so long.” he confesses, whispering your name with sweetness. “I am in love with you.”

“Gekko…”

He doesn't let you finish, claiming your mouth once again, kissing you with fervor and passion that ignites something else in the pit of your stomach and awakens your own sex; Gekko decides he's going to claim you in whichever form he can right now. He can't let this opportunity slip from his fingers, not when he's waited for so long and now he's burning with an unrestrained passion.

He doesn't know where this sudden spike in confidence comes from; whether from your flustered face, whining his name in a tone that has him tight in his pants and fueling his ego or how desperately you were getting off to his touch and kisses, making him feel in power and control of your pleasure.

You hang onto his back as a life line when he begins pushing his thigh against your cock, gasping into his mouth and groaning in tandem with desire pouring through your every whimper. Gekko chases your lips, tongue making its way into your mouth and fighting for dominance until you give in, reeling in the euphoria from feeling your body and having you crumble under his loving ministrations.

The flush in your face, the soft moans in between sloppy kisses, your hands trying to find purchase behind his head; gods, what did he do to receive such a treat?

“I can feel you getting hard, love.” he whispers, he raises his legs again and applies pressure just right where you want it, moaning his name. “Just how long will you make me beg until you profess your love to me.”

Oh god, this man is going to kill you.

You grab the back of his head to help you guide his lips to yours once again to shut him up. The taste is addictive, way too good to have it once, and tongues toying with each other sends your head into overdrive.

Biting his lip, you moan his name once again, hips rolling against his leg until you both are frotting against each other in desperation for release. Gekko whispers your name lovingly, to which you swallow with greed for more.

“God, Mateo—”

You want this man to ravage you and make you sweat with lust, you want him to fuck you stupid with his cock until you can't think of nothing but him and being filled to the brim. To be folded against the mattress, to have him behind you, bending you over and thrusting without respite, any way he wants it, you need him desperately.

Feeling his hardened dick, even through the clothes, is making you delirious in ways you never thought was possible. Your own swollen member wants to be touched by his hand alone, to help you reach your climax while you chant his name in groans and moans, releasing your cum between your bodies while he fills your insides with his own seed.

“Please, Mateo, fuck me—” the boy grunts your name, lost in the feeling of your rolling hips. “I'm so close, fuck, fuck!”

“Wouldn't you like that, amor?” he teases, his hands tightens his grip on your ass, and moves you with harshness. “

At one last slide, the coil tightening in your belly snaps, the orgasm hitting you with shockwaves of pleasure that Gekko helps you ride out, keeping on rubbing against him until he reaches his own end as well.

The tingling in your body doesn't disappear immediately, your mind still clouded with the post-orgasmic experience and cock twitching with the last remaining of your cum. Your hands reach for his face, caressing his cheek with tenderness; he’s breathing heavily, eyelids low and a look that has you melting on the inside.

Emotions swelling inside your chest, you finally give in, “Oh my god, I love you.”

Full of love, full of satisfaction, you lean in to close the gap for a kiss, slower this time, tasting him to the fullest and deepening it. The sensual action of having his mouth melting with yours is a dream; sighing happily when he makes some distance and dives back in.

Gekko laughs in between the kisses, smooching your face with tiny pecks until you’re fully giddy with his affection.

“Who would've thought, huh?” he mutters, hiding his face in your collarbone. He keeps on mouthing softly your skin, leaving love bites after love bites until you sigh loudly when he sucks a hickey.

“About what?”

“That for you to tell me you love me, I had to make you cum.”

Mood shattered, you groan in annoyance, pushing him away, and pouting when he begins laughing in earnest.

“You fucking horndog, is your fault it led to this,” moving around feels uncomfortable, the stickiness of your cum drying inside your trousers was hard to ignore now. “I need to shower, I can’t go back to Sage like this.”

Gekko hums, caging you against the wall once again, “Yeah? How about you and I take one together?”

“Ha! You wish.” Trying to avoid his lips, you duck and try to crawl towards the door to escape. “Now I know I won’t be able to deny you anything if you get me in the mood.”

Bold as ever, Gekko jumps on you from behind, both tumbling down on the floor from his weight and trapping you between his arms and legs.

“You won’t escape then!” he exclaims, burying his face at the back of your neck.

“Mateo, this is disgusting! Let me go, I wanna shower!”

“Nah, boy, you stuck here with me until you tell me you love me again!”

Whining, you keep struggling against his hold but to fail horribly; but in honesty, seeing the muscles in his arm flex and tighten when trying to apply pressure was way too hot to keep missing out.

Huffing, you yield, “I love you…”

“Not good enough, try again.”

“You fucking-!”

Sage will have to wait for a little bit longer.

#*jazz hands*#gekko x reader #gekko x male!reader #valorant fanfiction #seneitut writes #gekko smut

204 notes · View notes

according2thelore · 7 months ago

Note

MOMMY DEAN MONDAY!!!!!

YES YOU ARE SO CORRECT!!!!!!

today i am thinking of sammy in elementary school in the week leading up to mother’s day. his teacher has gotten all the card supplies out with the fun-cut scissors and crayons and foam stickers. they take the last hour of school to make cards for their mothers, and all the other kids are drawing stick figures with long hair and big smiles and putting foam hearts all over the construction paper.

and sammy just kind of sits there at first because he doesn’t have a mommy. he has a daddy (and that's not all it's cracked up to be). but, he realizes, as the other kids chatter about how annoying their moms are for making sure they bathe every night and how their mom makes the best mac and cheese in the world that — wait, maybe he does have a mommy?

he draws a lopsided stick figure in bright green crayon, with spots all over its face, and a smaller one in brown crayon, holding its hand. the green one is taller but not as tall as the other mommies in the pictures.

the teacher comes over and notices the figure on sam’s card has big blue pants and short hair. she watches as sam flips open the card and looks back and forth from the blackboard so he can write “happy mother’s day” perfectly. then “den” underneath it.

“oh sweetie, mom is spelled m-o-m.”

“i know that,” sam says, annoyed at being talked down to. “how do you spell dean?”

“d-e-a-n?”

sam starts scribbling furiously, putting a big X through den and writing it properly this time.

he gives it to dean when dean walks over after school to pick him up, blushing and looking away when he shoves it into his hands.

"what's this?" dean asks, flipping the card open and freezing because sam has stuck foam stickers all around the words, with a crudely drawn bowl of mac and cheese and dean running behind sam on a bike without training wheels on the other panel. "we have a mom," dean says, part knee-jerk-furious and part sick-weird-warm.

"oh." sam says, wilted. he got it wrong. moms must do something that dean doesn't do, but sam's not sure what that thing is. maybe have long hair? he doesn't see dean put the card in his backpack.

and i’m also thinking about sam going through dean’s things after the hellhounds, after his brother is stiff and cold in a box under freshly tilled earth, sam's fingers still dark with dirt, and finding—tucked under the lining, crinkled, and faded with time—a construction paper card. the edges are worn soft. happy mother’s day, den. and sam goes out and gets blackout drunk, swerving into the oncoming lane when he drives home, completely numb and not caring and pulsing raw like a nerve, but he gets home safe.

because angels are watching over him. his mom told him that.

-lizzy

(sorry for the late reply anon, i wanted to schedule for the day of)

#HAPPY MOMMY DEAN MONDAY TO THOSE THAT CELEBRATE #mommy dean monday #ask box #lizzy answers #lizzy writes #anon <3

32 notes · View notes

dedahblog · 2 years ago

Text

My favorite ichiruki fanart from 2022.

(Please don't reupload )

This started as a mini rant but of course, everything went out of control.

Ichigo trying to look suave and confident, staring at Rukia straight in the eyes.

But in reality, everything, from his posture, his nervous smile to his eyes show an intense vulnerability and a shameless yearning to be loved back.

It summarizes the duality of his feelings for her.

On the one hand,

Ichigo sees Rukia as an independent woman who deserves to choose what she wants. He doesn't want to hold her accountable about how much she means to him.

Thus, he is adamant about not burdening her:

by accepting that she won't come back with him and live in his closet forever (yep pretty shocking) when he expected her to,

by smiling for her sake when he was losing his powers even though his heart was torn apart,

by not complaining to her directly or to other people about how she didn't come to visit him when he expected her to.

He kept this resentment to himself

On the other hand,

he still wants her in his orbit to keep up with the speed of the world as he says.

In the farewell sword panel above, "Tell everybody to say hi" was just an excuse because he selfishly wanted to look at her one last time before she faded away

Besides, in the SS arc, he took her feelings so personally because he sees her as an other side of him. He sees her as someone whose personal happiness and sadness are interwined with his.

Saving Rukia and assuring her happiness her independence to choose what she wants was also about saving himself from his guilt of being saved by the two women who protected him and saving himself from the despair he felt when he saw Rukia crying.

That's why, he wants to be certain that everyone who wronged her apologize to her (Byakuya and Urahara)

Everyone who neglected her show her how much she means to them, (Reji)

This might seem to be an egocentric way to love someone but it also leaves Ichigo is a vulnerable position where everything is up to Rukia :

If she decides that her happiness is not intertwined with him,

(please don't flashback back to that crappy ending, it doesn't exist)

he could never be angry or bitter because he respects her individuality too much. However, his yearning is too obvious to hide.

That's why I love this fanart. It shows his innocent but obvious emotional blackmail. He is showing her how he is not shying away from being put in a position below her. He wants her to see a vulnerability that he never shows to anyone

But at the same time, he would never dare to impose his feelings on her so he is silently imploring her to notice him :

"Even if you don't need me as much as I do... maybe I can... change your mind ....or not , if you don't want, ... you don't have to... but if you do, well ... I ..."

#ichiruki #like and retweet or if you don't have a twt just marvel at it / simply don't reupload #I think I edited this post 6 times #ichiruki fanart

148 notes · View notes

10piecechickennuggy · 1 year ago

Text

Magic and Secrets, Chapter 4 - Sanji x Witch!OC

WARNING: Mature content ahead!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own One Piece or the art featured above. This is a fan-created work featuring an original character.

Read Chapter 3 Here

Read Chapter 2 Here

Read Chapter 1 Here

Soot stained fingers grazed the pane of glass, a black smudge appearing over the photo beneath. Tearful eyes gazed back at Vera, unblinking in their frozen misery. The boy looked how she felt; frustrated despair at his lot in life. New marks joined the glass, tracing a distinct swirl over the boy’s prominent eyebrow, as a smile formed faintly over the girl’s lips.

Vera had taken refuge in the coalstore. She wasn’t sure what had brought on her Stepfather’s anger today, but he had screamed and beaten her. New bruises were already forming, joining the preexisting splotches of purple and jagged scars which already littered the girl’s body.

Eventually, she’d managed to escape his wrath. A slave had begged Misericors to cease his onslaught, providing a brief moment of distraction which Vera seized immediately. She had run through her home, finding her usual hiding spot - the only one yet to be discovered - and curled up amongst the dark stones.

The picture had been hidden here weeks ago. At first, it was a symbol of her misfortune - a reminder that her current hell would lead to an equally miserable future. But in recent days, the boy’s face had become a cherished treasure. Her betrothed was clearly unhappy - her mother had described him as the disappointment of his family. Perhaps his circumstance was similar to hers.

Shaking hands brought the frame close to Vera’s heart. She knew that it was wrong to wish misfortune on someone else. But part of her hoped that he knew her pain. That he knew what a life of constant misery and fear was like. Surely he did, if the photos of his brothers beating the poor blonde gave any indication.

“He’s the runt of the litter, far weaker than his siblings. Perfect for a waste like you.” Her mother’s voice echoed in the young witch’s mind.

“Please.” Vera whispered. “Let him be kind.”

***

Deep wooden panels were the first thing Vera saw upon opening her eyes. That and a dim ceiling light, swaying with the movement of the ship.

Her head throbbed, her stomach cried, and her mouth was dry. How long had she been out? The last thing the witch remembered was a battle with some marines. There were cannonballs and chaos. Loud booms dominated the air. And bullets.

That was it! Vera had used her magic to spirit away all the bullets on the enemy ship. And subsequently fainted. She sat up and took in her surroundings.

She found herself in the sickbay, sitting atop a thin mattress with a sheet of white cotton draped across her form. Judging by the looming darkness outside the single porthole, the sun had been set for at least a few hours. Vera perked her ears and listened intently, but no sound reached her ears aside from the soft creak of the Sunny and the gentle lapping of waves along her hull.

Evidently, the battle had ended in a victory for the Strawhats. Otherwise, she’d have woken up in a cell aboard the marine ship or not at all. A sigh of relief passed her lips as she came to this realization. She was alive, and her new friends were safe.

Snoring interrupted the girl’s thoughts, bringing her attention to the far corner of the room. A figure sat, leaning against the armrest of an uncomfortable looking chair. Blonde hair and a disheveled suit revealed the visitor’s identity.

Sanji was fast asleep, his expression peaceful as a thin trail of drool fell from his lips. Vera almost chuckled at this before noticing redness on his nose and the skin around his eye. His lashes seemed to glisten in the dim light. Had he been crying?

Vera stood, padding softly over to her crewmate. Approaching, she noticed a glass of orange juice and a plate of cookies sitting on the counter to Sanji’s side. Both were untouched, leaving the girl to assume they’d been meant for her - to restore her energy levels.

Her lips curved into a smile that crinkled her eyes. “What am I going to do with you?” She whispered and gently reached outward, sweeping away the man’s bangs with the lightest touch to reveal his other eye.

Swirled eyebrows furrowed as Sanji frowned, his eyelids parting slowly. Cerulean orbs threatened to overflow as their eyes met, striking Vera with a wave of nostalgia.

She inhaled sharply, finding herself thrust backwards in time. An eight year old girl hidden amongst piles of coal, a picture held close to her chest.

“It’s you.” Vera breathed the words, barely audible to the confused man inches before her. “My salvation.”

***

The sun beat down, harsh light reflecting off gentle waves and white sand. Vera brought her knees closer to her chest, staying well within the circle of shade provided by the large umbrella.

Scents of caramelized fruits and cooking meat wafted through the air from the barbecue just meters away. Vera’s stomach growled audibly, though she did not react. Her gaze remained locked on the sand which shifted between her toes.

Nami’s voice could be heard, energetic and melodic. Whatever she’d said, it must have been quite funny. Sanji laughed loudly - a deep belly laugh that was sure to be accompanied by a breathtaking smile. The witch couldn’t bring herself to look though. She’d been unable to even look at the cook since her embarrassing statement in the sickbay.

If only she had an invisibility spell at her disposal. She’d have used it to evade the man these last several days. But alas, she did not. True to his nature, he had continued on as though nothing had happened. And so Vera found herself a silent, blushing mess each time Sanji tried to interact with her.

“Blackleg-ya sent this.” Vera’s gaze rose to meet golden eyes, adorned with dark bags. Tattooed hands offered a plate of kabobs, juicy and appetizing.

“Thanks, Law.” She took the plate gratefully, chowing down as the man sat beside her.

Trafalgar Law. He was a surgeon and pirate captain who’d allied with the Strawhats. He’d joined up with the crew recently, seeming to gel with the boisterous crew easily enough despite his dour personality.

Reaching over, he took a kabob from Vera’s plate and began eating, the dark lines of ink on his exposed torso capturing her attention. “Can’t swim?” The question sounded more like a statement through Law’s full mouth. When Vera raised an eyebrow in confusion, he only nodded towards the sea where the rest of their companions frollicked through the waves.

The witch returned her gaze to the sand, her free hand drawing absentminded circles. “Didn’t feel like it.” She shrugged before bringing another stick of meat to her mouth.

Law hummed in response, leaning back to rest on his arms. For a moment, he studied her form. She wore a black bikini and matching sunhat, a lace shawl draped over her shoulders. The end of a scar could be seen poking out from beneath the delicate fabric on her left arm. “Seems to me you’re distracted.”

Vera huffed, handing the now empty plate back to him. “If your only objective was stating the obvious, you could have started with it.”

Law chuckled in response, his golden earrings clanking as his head shook. “Just trying to understand.” He smirked at her then, his expression irritating the witch. “So, when are you going to stop sulking in jealousy and tell Blackleg-ya how you feel?”

Vera sputtered, her eyes wide and mouth agape as she turned toward her companion. “I-I don’t know what you mean!” Her voice came out louder than intended, drawing unwanted attention. She was a sea of emotions, the devious glint in Law’s eyes bringing panic to the forefront.

“I’m only making a suggestion. I’m sure he’d be overjoyed to have a proper confession.”

“A confession?” Vera jumped, caught off guard by Robin’s voice entering the conversation. When had she gotten so close?

“Who’s Vera confessing to?” Nami had joined the ravenette, her words and expression dripping with curiosity.

“What’s a confession?” Luffy tilted his head in confusion.

Usopp blushed, pulling his captain’s ear. “You seriously don’t know what they’re talking about?!”

Vera glared at Law, trying and failing to ignore the crowd forming around them.

“My oh my, can it be?!” Sanji now spun from his post at the barbecue, hands clutched in excitement. “Is love in the air?!”

It was all too much. Vera felt her breath quicken as her friends crowded the small area of shade, her nerves becoming shot. Quickly, she stood and shouted. “Everybody stop!”

The group fell silent, their eyes fixated on Vera’s left arm. Except for Sanji, who’d succumbed to a nosebleed at the sight of Vera’s bikini-clad body now on full display. Following the crews’ gazes, Vera realized what had grasped their attention so ardently.

Black fabric pooled in the sand at her feet, her shawl having fallen in her haste. Vera brought her hand to cover the scar, but it was already too late. Tears formed in her eyes, falling fast in hot trails that stained pale cheeks.

“Vera.” Nami reached out a hand, attempting to comfort the girl. But before she could make contact, Vera ran.

She bolted to the Sunny, sand tracking behind as bare feet met wood. A door. She needed to find a door.

Spotting the entrance to the girls’ dorm, she rushed toward it. She nearly tripped before slamming palms first into the thick panel. Shouts could be heard just off the sunny, stirring more panic to swell within her.

Uttering a spell with such speed that she almost questioned whether it’d be effective, she opened the door. Only once it’d been slammed shut behind her did Vera breathe a sigh of relief.

Reaching the girls dorm, Nami spoke to announce her presence before opening the door. She’d expected to find Vera within, likely attempting to hide. But the room was empty. When Robin had caught up, the two tore the room apart in search of their companion.

Their efforts proved fruitless.

Staggering to her feet, Vera moved to the window on the room’s opposite end. Despite the only thing visible being an endless void of inky black, the simple act of drawing the curtain closed brought solace.

Upon releasing the fabric, she turned to face a round mirror. Its surface was dusty and cracked, but Vera could still make out her reflection. She padded over, her feet scattering bullets and books. A small cup sat upon a vanity just below the reflective disc.

Trembling fingers rose as more tears fell, lightly brushing the marred skin. The mark was an angry red, glossy from its time healing. Four triangles and a circle. The Hoof of the Soaring Dragon - a mark of ownership. The label given to slaves of the world nobles.

#black leg sanji #one piece #one piece oc #one piece sanji #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #vinsmoke sanji #one piece x oc #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #cat burglar nami #straw hat pirates #niko robin #god usopp #tony tony chopper #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #strawhat pirates

28 notes · View notes