#since im not working now i lost my job rip. so i have nothing to do anyway rly 😭
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capricores ¡ 1 year ago
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happy NYE guys!! wishing you all the best in the new year 🥺💗 are you guys doing any sort of "rituals" or resolutions for the new years?? i'm taking inspiration from some people i saw online, and i'm spending today:
• journalling all the awful shit that happened to me this year, and writing down any limiting beliefs i have/things i want to let go, then i'm going to burn that paper
• writing out resolutions/goals + affirmations/manifestations for the new year in a journal and being so extremely detailed about it so there's no room for interpretation
• making a vision board relating to the life i hope to have in the next year
i think it'll be fun and hopefully impactful in a positive way?! 😭
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myysaints ¡ 1 year ago
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°˖ ⊹ ꒰ LS2 ꒱ FROM FRIENDS TO THIS ─ LOGAN SARGEANT
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LOGAN SARGEANT x gf!childhood bff!reader
⌗︙・ summary — as best friends, you, logan, and oscar should know everything about each other. but you and logan are hiding a certain secret from oscar...
genre — fluff, socmed au, faceless reader
notes — in honour of logan earning his FIRST EVER POINTS in formula 1, here's a fluffy little socmed fic of childhood besties reader logan and oscar! i love logan and oscar's friendship, it's so so cute. hope u all enjoy xx
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yourusername    fun in the sun
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logansargeant    Credits to the photographer?
yourusername    thank you logan….
oscarpiastri    ☀️
logansargeant    Gramps finally figured out how to use emojis? Never thought the day would come yourusername    everyone say great job grandpa! landonorris    Great job Grandpa logansargeant    Great job grandpa
user1    asdhsgadhgf not y/n fighting logan AND oscar in the comments 😭😭 best trio ever
user2    Sorry who is she? Does she work in F1? Why do so many drivers follow her
user3    she’s Y/N L/N, she’s childhood friends with oscar and logan
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🏷    yourusername, oscarpiastri
logansargeant    Hell of a summer to remember
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alex_albon    where was my invite??? :(
logansargeant    Lmk when you’re next in Florida mate
yourusername    my turn to say CREDITS TO THE PHOTOGRAPHER !!!
logansargeant    🙄 A little ‘please’ would be nice yourusername    but u don’t deserve nice logansargeant    Watch the attitude princess
oscarpiastri    Language.
yourusername    don’t act like you haven’t said worse, piastri logansargeant    Exactly, rich coming from someone who threw a temper tantrum when he lost monopoly oscarpiastri    I did NOT throw a tantrum… yourusername    i have pics of u sulking btw
user1    MY COMFORT TRIO
user2    anyone ship y/n and oscar? no? just me? okay
user3    Nah bro Oscar has a gf. But Logan and Y/N >>>> user4    they’ve known each other for forever i think if they had feelings for each other they would’ve gotten together by now 😭
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f1driversnwaggossip    Oscar Piastri spotted arriving in the UK, fresh off of a fulfilling summer trip with childhood friends Logan Sargeant and Y/N L/N 😊
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user1    aww, does that mean no more oscar-logan-y/n content 😭😭
user2    rip oscar’s summer vacay era, it was great while it lasted
user3    ughhhh im going to miss seeing the three of them together sm
user4    Fr like we probably aren’t going to see Y/N with any of them for a long time again 😭 Especially since she’s probably gonna be busy with school, she hardly ever attends GPs user5    y/n and logan seem to be fine having fun on their own lol just saying user4    Wdym? user5    check logan’s ig stories, i think he’s still hanging out with y/n
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YOU HAVE ONE (1) NEW MESSAGE
vroom vroom 1 🧡: Yk, you guys are not very good at keeping secrets the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: ??? vroom vroom 1 🧡: I know you guys are together my florida man <3: …We don’t know what youre talking about vroom vroom 1 🧡: … vroom vroom 1 🧡: Bro. my florida man <3: Bro the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: bro…? vroom vroom 1 🧡: Look I’m not mad im just vroom vroom 1 🧡: Sad you guys didn’t tell me sooner… the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: but theres nothing to tell you oscar 😀 vroom vroom 1 🧡:
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my florida man <3: Mate you are so unserious vroom vroom 1 🧡: Currently crying in the sim, Lando’s looking at me weird vroom vroom 1 🧡: Fess up or I tell him the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: OKAY OKAY OH MY GOD OSCAR my florida man <3: Alright man no need to get violent my florida man <3: Let’s talk this out calmly my florida man <3: Like adults vroom vroom 1 🧡: Do adults go behind each other’s backs? vroom vroom 1 🧡: Do adults start relationships and not tell their best friend? vroom vroom 1 🧡: Do adults LIE and GASLIGHT their best friend? my florida man <3: … my florida man <3: Is it bad if i say yes vroom vroom 1 🧡: You’re meant to say no 😒 my florida man <3: Right right, sorry my florida man <3: No the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: okay oscar we get it 😭 the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: we’re sorry we lied the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you sooner my florida man <3: And we’re sorry we said no when you kept asking my florida man <3: And actively pretended like nothing was happening my florida man <3: And went on numerous trips without you vroom vroom 1 🧡: Alright I forgive you guys. Not that i was actually mad, i just wanted to see you guys say it my florida man <3: And that we made out in your bed that one time during your Christmas party last year vroom vroom 1 🧡: You guys can stop apologising now vroom vroom 1 🧡: . vroom vroom 1 🧡: WAIT WHAT
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just-null ¡ 1 year ago
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your yan!noritoshi is so wisnwonwpwjw RAAAHHHH going absolutely feral ... i want him . ive had so many thoughts abt him as like a yandere n then i saw your art n absolutely lost it /pos
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IM ALL EARS, BABY!!!!!!!!!!!
GOD FUCK OKAY, HOLD ON, I ALSO HAVE SOME RAMBLES AND THOUGHTS ABOUT YANDERE NORITOSHI BUT IM GOING TO PUT THEM UNDER THE CUT.
I AM IN NO WAY RESPONSIBLE FOR UNLEASHING MY TJOUGHTS OFFICER. IT WAS MY GLORIOUS CULT MEMBER RIGHT HERE.
MERRY OCTOBER YALL
[disclaimer: im not a writer, but I want to get better. think of this as my practice. it ended up being so fucking long, but i swear it's just rambles, not a fic]
[warning for blood under the cut? keep that in mind for future posts]
OKAY LETS GO.
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Bro ok so. if I'm not too delusional (yet) and don’t see him as a yandere, then this guy (Noritoshi) is still a strict fuck. he'd put you on the same level of importance as his clan if not a bit higher. but only by a bit. Your relationship would gradually bloom into something meaningful to him that he’d cherish you wholeheartedly. Only then would you grow in importance to Noritoshi significantly. He'd keep his resolve and all those healthy green flags. Because honestly? Noritoshi is just a green flag, he's so sweet..
But let's twist that into a yandere setting. I don't even need to twist too much, Noritoshi as a yandere is way too fitting.
Noritoshi was abandoned by his mother as a child, thereby fueling his lifelong goals to do as she said and bring her back. He didn't even think on his own accord, nor did he try to find a different way, or even follow her! He accepted his fate and made it his mission to accomplish the goal he was given. Despite the intense pressure of his worth being determined by an ability he was born with and the high expectations from the Kamo clan, he perseveres. That is until [spoilers] Noritoshi is exiled by his clan because of some Kenajku shit. All his hard work and future goals were ripped away from him without a second thought in an instant. Noritoshi was always the second thought time and time again, and now left as a man with nothing but the failure of his desired future.
That wasn't even the yandere part, that was all canon, what the fuck.
Yandere Noritoshi is the type to cling to scraps... He reminds me of an obsessive and protective yandere. obsessive about you because you become his everything.. his goal, his will to keep going, the light at the end of the tunnel. he wants all of you, from the best parts of you to your worst. He's also protective, because he cant handle losing yet another person so important to him. He'd rather tear himself apart than lose you.
He also seems mostly self-aware but can overthink to the point of delusion. For example, you pat him on the back and tell him he did a great job on something. He knows it's nothing to dwell on, but why does he feel like there's more to your words? Should he read in between the lines? but there's only one line! From then on, his mind would reel until he landed on a favorable conclusion. You meant that he was the only one who did great. The others paled in comparison in your eyes therefore you must favor Noritoshi in some way.. right?
Since Noritoshi was pretty deprived of any emotional support, you won't even have to try too hard to get his heart thumping. If you were to give him even just a bit more attention and care than the average person, like making sure he's eating alright or remarking that he's paler than usual after restocking his blood bags, he's hooked. He's self-aware enough to realize his blooming fondness for you is one-sided, so he simply admires you. that is, at the start. Note that Noritoshi is still new to these feelings so he's.. awkward. It's really cute.
Though these moments were cute to you, they slowly became horribly blissful to Noritoshi. Poor you, completely unaware of how you're slowly corrupting him in, what he thinks, is the best way possible just by giving him your attention. He thinks you're the last and only person still believing in him, so much so that everything and everyone else slowly becomes minuscule in the grand seam of things. He feels happy around you, like he matters, like he has someone to trust, like he has someone who won't abandon him. Because of this, he sees you as a new goal. A new hope. Failing you is not an option. Disappointing you is not an option. Hell, even a frown from you is unacceptable in his eyes.
Noritoshi tries to cling to you at this point in his own way... He enjoys it when you speak to him, or even sit next to him, so much so that he seeks you out when you're not there. You'd feel eyes boring holes into the back of your head, a sense of being followed, sometimes seeing your shadow accompanied by another, every time you turn around to be surprised by a familiar face. His footsteps are so quiet that you barely notice Noritoshi walking around.
Unfortunately, due to Noritoshi’s inexperience, the only way he knows how to impress people is by being “perfect” a.k.a. his strict, pain in the ass, annoying heir shtick. He would be the type to get on your case, scold, coddle, nitpick, correct you, and practically look like he's trying to bully you when in reality he's trying to hear praise from you for "helping" you. He’s waiting for you to see the affection and adoration behind his nagging, is he not being obvious enough? oh well, at least your eyes are on him for now. When most people in Noritoshi's life have either put him second or flat-out abandoned him, he's satisfied with anything he can get from you. Though he'd prefer praise, the thought of your attention being given to another even for a second makes his stomach feel like it's tying in knots, so he settles for your annoyed tuts and glares.
Of course, after a while, you'd get tired of this and tell him to knock it off. Or some variation of what a decent human being would do like, “Do whatever you want, but don't meddle in people's business.”
You KNOW he's going to be picking that apart in the middle of the night while looking up at the ceiling. What did you mean by that? Do you mean ANYTHING he wants? As long as he doesn’t bother anyone? Were you talking about yourself and everyone in general? Were you talking about someone specific? Did you leave it up for him to decide? Thoughts and questions circle in his head until he twists your words enough into something that he favors again. Ah, you allow him to do whatever he wants so long as he doesn't get in your way. But he wants to be alongside you... Did you mean in your way to the point of annoyance? Noted. From then on, Noritoshi's strictness softened into light nagging and bearable hovering. He'd knock it off completely through gritted teeth and furrowed brows if you threatened him with the silent treatment. He'll slowly start it up again until you begin ignoring him, only then will he get the hint and relax a bit. only until next time, of course.
The intensity of Noritoshi's coddling can fluctuate depending on your actions. (recklessness, obedience, shyness, etc.) it's his love language.
It's a completely different story if someone else decides to nag you as Noritoshi does... If someone scolds you, Noritoshi's on the offense. He's known for his occasional bluntness and sassy remarks, but this time... He's contradicting himself all in an attempt to get the other person to back away. If the one scolding you brings up points Noritoshi used in the past, he firmly denies them all and stands by your side. He'd rather sound hypocritical than let someone else care for you the way he does. Noritoshi stands in front of you, almost guarding you with his body and begins his barrage of deflective comments through his clenched jaw such as “That's not your place to say” “Shut it, they did no wrong.” “You don't know the reason why they did so, leave them alone.” and other things similar to that. Jeez, take your advice Noritoshi.. He’d argue and become antagonistic towards someone scolding you, even if it's exactly what he was about to do.
The same goes for someone who tries to be gentle with you to a lesser degree. It's nice that people see how wonderful you are, but having your smiles and kind words directed at anyone else other than Noritoshi is... Upsetting. The resentment gradually pools in the pit of his stomach and suddenly finds himself impulsively moving towards you and this "friend." He stands in between you and the kind person, trying his best to conceal his sneers. He wants nothing more than to have the third party get swallowed up by the ground or hit by a car, but he keeps his composure. Noritoshi sternly states how he’ll handle everything from then on and gives the third party a glare that's much more hateful than usual… Finally! Noritoshi has you to himself again! All is right in the world once more...
Noritoshi has always been on a very tight rope... Any wrong step and it’s going to snap. The more Noritoshi gets attached to you, the easier it is to convince himself that it's okay to cross certain lines to make sure you're safe with him. Even if that line he’s crossing, includes murder. It'd happen quicker if he caught feelings after the whole incident with the Kamo clan. You'd be the only thing he has left, the only thing he'd cling onto with every fiber of his being, emotionally and sometimes physically.
And like every fairy tale, a problem unconventionally shows itself much to Noritoshi's dismay... Noritoshi is shown to be prideful at times. Because of this, he'd try to conceal his more embarrassing emotions and reactions towards you. He wants to be seen as someone strong you can rely on, a steady pillar to your stability, someone who will do anything you wish at the drop of a hat, but it’s almost impossible to execute when he feels like he's nothing but putty in your hands at the slightest sign of positive reciprocation.
If Noritoshi felt his face heating up because your laugh caught him off guard, he'd turn his head to hide how that simple action made him nearly melt into mush. If your hand brushed against his, he'd quickly swipe it away. Not because he doesn't want to touch you, but because you'd feel how shaky and sweaty his palms got with just a graze. Noritoshi's gaze always lingers on his bow if you ever touch it causing his aim to decline in accuracy significantly.
He mentally curses himself out every time he pulls away from you because he knows he's sending mixed signals. Noritoshi loves you endlessly, but please spare his fragile heart. Your presence overwhelms him like no other, and he's utterly conflicted on how to act. He can handle being by your side like he wants, but the second your 100% focus is on him and only him, he’ll start to squirm under your gaze. Noritoshi wants to impress you! Stop being so mesmerizing for just a second so he can gather his thoughts and not embarrass himself! A-ah, but don't look away!!!
Tl;dr Noritoshi as a yandere is needy and petty as hell, but will explode if he gets an ounce of affection! He’s also! A creepy hopeless romantic who sends you mixed signals!
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acircusfullofdemons ¡ 2 years ago
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Julia i am so glad to see you on my dash again even if its just like. for a brief second lol. I hope the Gestalt VN is going well!! And I hope you are well too!!!
Personally I've been doing a lot of development for my StoryBook City paracosm. Though posting abt any of my paras/paracosms has been sporadic at best bc there is Nobody here & it is so awkward/embarrassing to be the only one in the tags sometimes 😭
And thanks to the MaDD Community hanging on by a thread atm my irl friends unfortunately have to hear about my unhinged paras but thankfully they like my worldbuilding/paracosms lmao still rip to them everything is so intricate i gotta give context for the context 💀
Uhm as for my other 2 cosms: Mad as a Crow has been getting minor edits/development but nothing major and like I think technically Phantasmagoria is "complete" in the worldbuilding sense (well. it technically is a finished paracosm im just a stubborn dumbass) so nothing new there. I think about Calypso (and Rowan!) a lot but that should be no surprise he's always with me pft.
(I am also very bad — like embarrassingly bad — at being in discord servers lol idk why I just. never end up talking in them & forget I'm in them so same hat there.)
Nothing ever happens to me irl (hence the. MaDD lol) OH BUT!! I did go to a "second chance prom" the other day (I was in highschool when COVID first hit and we weren't able to have a prom) it was hosted by one of my friends colleges and it was so much fun! We got to watch drag queens perform and I think we lost our minds a little lol.
Also today at work a lady tried to return something from 20 years ago. None of us know how she kept the receipt for that long or why she decided to return it now, but...there was that (I didn't help her tho one of my managers told us about it).
And I suppose I shall say it here since I haven't brought it up to my irl friends yet but I'm considering a career in tech...but I'm still not sure lmao art school has damaged my trust in myself for making major life changes but I do like computers and am interested in coding so...yeah. only problem is idk the specifics (like a job/title to aim for) or really how to go about achieving that (i am. very hesitant to go back to any sort of college....4 years feels too long imo but idk! life is weird man).
howdy friend how are u doing??? :]]]
Hey!!! Gah sorry I've been MIA. ; _ ; Between irl life stuff, working on Gestalt, and also working a side job as an editor now, I've been pretty preoccupied. Just in a busy season of life I guess! Adult life hard. But that's ok!
Plus I am in this predicament now that I am working on the Gestalt game where I just don't know what to post anymore. I don't want to post potential spoilers, but I'm also not really creating any art/fics/etc. because I'm devoting all of my energy and attention to just making the game so I just... am left with not much to say. 😅
(Which is like. Bad because the MaDD community is seriously dead and needs people posting in it to try and necro it. And I know these days people mostly hang out in discord servers but I'm SO so bad at that for some reason. I am much more comfortable with public forums of discussion and don't want them to entirely die out!! But maybe I just need to get with the times and make a discord server or something and just try to get better with text communication. I digress.)
How are you though, friend?? It's so kind of you to stop by and check in Z you are truly the coolest and I hope life is treating you well. 🦆🔪🤠
Know what matter fact OOMFIE ROLL CALL any oomfies who may see this feel free to reply with paracosm and or life updates I'd love to hear from you. The Tumblr account known as sugarcoatedsadism is not dead just sleeping a little bit.
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a-small-batch-of-dragons ¡ 4 years ago
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Go the Distance
Prompt: Hello, I absolutely adore your work 🥺😍🥺 your Sanders Sides angst is just so goooood!!! If you're up to it, I'd love to request a fic <3 Virgil has noticed [side(s?) of your choice; they're all good choices, I can't decide ;-;] has been distant and avoiding him and he just can't figure out what he did wrong but it's actually because [side] loves him and are trying to take some time to 'get rid of/push down their feelings' The angster the better but don't push yourself ^ Feel free to add or change whatever Have a great day and no worries if you don't do this 💜💜💜~@im-an-anxious-wreck 💜🖤
Thanks for the prompt babe you’re the best
Read on Ao3
Warnings: self-doubt, some lite™ angst
Pairings: prinxiety, background platonic dlampr because found family dynamics motherfuckers
Word Count:  4191
Virgil and Roman's relationship hasn't always been, well, great. But it's been getting better!
Or, at least, it was.
Listen, Virgil knows he and Roman haven’t exactly had the most…painless history. Virgil’s introduction to the series was Thomas telling Roman his dream was to get rid of him and, well, Roman was first and foremost loyal to Thomas. Then the whole…insult thing, ducking out, and the absolute mess of the callback wedding debacle, it’s not exactly been smooth sailing.
 But—okay, and maybe they’d been a little harsher about things than absolutely necessary, and maybe Roman got hit with the consequences of their fights more than Virgil, and maybe Virgil hadn’t exactly been…overwhelmingly accepting of all of Princey’s little ticks.
 But they’d still been talking!
 After the wedding, no one was on good terms with anyone save Patton and Janus—and wasn’t that the shock of a lifetime—and Remus and Virgil. Because they made the smart choice and decided ‘nope, fuck that, I’m out.’
 It was a good choice. You have any idea how high their scores are in GTFO now? The first rundown’s a fucking cakewalk.
 Anyway.
 They’d been talking! Virgil still doesn’t know exactly what happened right after—he saw the video, of course he saw the video, but Roman sunk right to his room and there’s a good twelve hours between that and the next time Virgil saw him—but Roman had come out and approached him!
 Probably because he was still hurt by the end of the video—which oof, Virgil does not blame him for, that was harsh—and his only options were Logan, Virgil, and Remus and Logan, um, didn’t want to see anyone for a while and Remus is Remus.
 Side note: those two have been getting on better. Something about their twin Creativity thing meant Remus knew that Roman was hurting bad before even Thomas did.
 But Roman did seek him out, asking him quietly if he had a moment, just a moment, to sit together. Virgil had shrugged and passed it off as nothing only for Princey to literally sit on the floor and not make a fucking noise. He’d frowned and poked his shoulder, asking if he was alright.
 “Perfectly fine, Dark and Stormy,” Roman had said lightly, “and I’ll leave you in a moment.”
 “But you’re…” Virgil had waved to his silent form. “…not acting like you normally do.”
 Roman had laughed. “And here I thought I’d never hear you say you missed me being loud.”
 “Now let’s not jump to conclusions.”
 Sure enough, a few more seconds had passed and Roman had gotten up, quietly bid Virgil good day, thanked him, and left.
 You bet your ass Virgil sunk straight into Patton’s room to ask hey what the fuck did you do to Roman.
 Patton had sighed and said that they’re not sure what to do now—‘they’ being Janus and Patton. Virgil, still recovering from the whiplash of those two being close had shaken his head and told them to get it the fuck together.
 If he sunk into Remus’s room to ask how to take care of Roman, that’s his business. It’s also his business if he tackled Princey in a hug two minutes later.
 So. Talking.
 Roman, for all he talks, doesn’t really say much. The few things he does say are easily passed off as jokes, off-handed comments that no one really pays much attention to.
 Not that anyone pays nearly enough attention to Roman, come on, guys, he makes it easy.
 But Roman talked to Virgil. He’d come in and sit and Virgil would sit next to him, trying to make sure his arm didn’t burst into flames from where it was pressed against Princey—the dude’s a fucking space heater, okay?—just to listen. Some of the time it was Disney rants—okay, most of the time it was Disney rants—but some of the time…
 “Virgil?”
 “Yeah?”
 Roman looked down at his costume. Today was repair day, unofficially called when Virgil’s hoodie ripped during the night and Roman’s sword cut through his sleeve. Virgil looked up from his own mass of fabric, needle stuck in carefully so he wouldn’t prick himself. He frowned at the look on Roman’s face.
 “What’s up, Princey?”
 “Do you think my logo looks bad?”
 Virgil blinked in shock. Roman didn’t look up and see the surprise on his face, instead running his thumb slowly over the patch on the costume.
 “What the fuck are you talking about, Princey?”
 “It’s so complicated,” Roman said, still looking down, “Logan and Patton have really simple ones. You have a pretty simple one.”
 “Janus doesn’t. Remus doesn’t.”
 “Yeah, but they’re…”
 Virgil frowned deeper, putting his hoodie on the ground and shifting closer to Roman. The prince didn’t even look up, still clutching his logo in his hands.
 “They’re what, Roman?”
 Roman swallowed. “…allowed.”
 A growl sounded from Virgil’s throat before he knew what was happening.
 “And you’re not?”
 “Hmm?”
 “And you’re not allowed, Roman?” Virgil gripped his shoulder. “Look at me, Princey.”
 Roman looked up. Virgil swallowed another growl at the despondent look on the prince’s face. Instead, he gripped Roman’s shoulder tighter.
 “No one,” he said firmly, “is allowed to tell you your logo is bad. You hear me?”
 Roman blinked.
 “I mean it, Roman,” he said, softening his voice a little, “it’s you. It’s yours, no one’s allowed to tell you it’s wrong.”
 “So that’s…okay?”
 “Yeah, Princey, it’s okay.”
 “Oh.” Roman looked back down at his costume. “Okay. Thank you, Virgil.”
 “Anytime.”
 Virgil would come to be astounded at how much he means that.
 Because, really, now that Roman’s talking? Virgil’s fucking shocked that they didn’t realize how much Roman actually has to offer.
 First off, Princey’s smart as hell. Sure, L’s the resident braincell but you can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time.
 If Logan tries to tell you he’s not a dumbass sometimes he is wrong.
 Roman can puzzle solve with the best of them. Do you have any idea how much brainpower it takes to write a story? A script? Understand how all those moving parts fit together and make sense as a whole? Virgil sure as hell didn’t. He spent one afternoon trying to help Roman only for it to end up as Roman explaining what he was doing and Virgil frantically trying to keep up. Don’t even get him started on how impressive the Imagination stuff is.
 “It’s my job, Fall Out Brood,” Roman laughs every single time Virgil expresses how fucking cool this is, “have to be good at something.”
 And Roman is. He’s good.
 Second: Patton may be the heart, Logan may be the brains, but no one is as good at reassuring him as Roman. Probably has something to do with the Creativity gig. Roman had asked, politely, if Virgil would be comfortable telling him what to do when he gets really anxious, whether to leave him alone, get him somewhere safe, get him things, what have you. Virgil had told him, bemused, only to be shuttled into somewhere that screamed safewarmcomfortableeverythingisokay the next time he had a panic attack. Roman, with the lack of shame truly becoming of a theatre kid, had no problems cheering him up by loudly declaring he would fight whatever shadowy figures plagued his little nightmare, swatting at the air with his sword until Virgil’s sobs had turned into giggles. He never made Virgil talk about anything if he didn’t want to, didn’t try to sit and work through things if they weren’t ready, and never touched him unless he’d gotten the okay. The first time Virgil told him he’d be fine with receiving hugs in the aftermath was the warmest he’d felt in years.
 Princey gives really good hugs.
 Third: Roman’s fucking funny.
 Remember the whole ‘smart as hell’ thing? Know how Logan’s funny as fuck too when he lets himself be?
 Virgil’s lost count of how many times he’s had to gasp out for Roman to shut the fuck up because his sides hurt too much from laughing. He ends up sprawled across the fucking floor or the couch or Princey’s bed, dying very happily but painfully because Roman won’t stop making him laugh.
 Most of the time it’s due to something they’re watching and Roman’ll notice some detail that he picks apart until they’re both howling or Virgil will make one sarcastic comment that turns into a full fucking bit for like…ten minutes. Roman will just keep riffing off of the smallest thing until he’s laughing too hard to keep going—not very likely—or Virgil will flail out desperately and smack him—much more likely.
 Princey said he makes fun of the things he loves.
 …maybe that’s why he doesn’t make fun of Virgil anymore.
 Virgil curls tighter around the pillow, clutching it to his chest. As he rubs his cheek against it, he grimaces. It’s too rough. It’s not warm enough. It doesn’t smell right.
 They’d been talking. It had been good.
 But that was before.
 Before Roman had cautiously approached Logan with an apology, the offering of a new planner for him, the promise to listen to him, hear him out, give him space to speak. Logan had accepted.
 Before Roman had opened the border between his and Remus’s side of the Imagination, sending a little puppy scuttling over to his brother’s castle with a note, a dagger, and a vial of acid. It returned as a kitten with a beautifully poisonous rose.
 Before Roman had finally, finally, after days of trying, opened the door when Patton knocked, letting him come inside so they could talk, about everything that happened since…well, ever. They hadn’t stopped hugging long enough to walk down the stairs.
 Before Roman had let Janus, Janus, take care of him.
 And now…
 Now Roman didn’t want to be in the same room as him.
 It feels as if they’re walking on eggshells around each other again, Virgil appearing in a room only for Roman to completely disappear, getting up and leaving a conversation entirely just to avoid him, Virgil knocking on Roman’s door only for Roman to shout that he’s busy, not to come inside, Virgil, trying, trying to figure out where Roman’s gone, what’s happened, only to receive the cold shoulder.
 A problem none of the other Sides seemed to be having.
 He clutches the pillow to his chest.
 Did he—did he do something wrong?
 Does Roman—does Roman not like him anymore?
 Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard about talking to the others. Roman needed space, needed time, he didn’t need someone else breathing down his neck. He should’ve let Roman set the pace, listened more, been kinder to him when he needed reassurance.
 Maybe he shouldn’t have made Roman think it was his fault that the others were taking so long, or suggested that if he wanted things to get better he should try talking first. Roman had been taught by everyone else that things were his fault already, Virgil didn’t need to jump on that train too.
 Maybe he should’ve been kinder to Roman, less focused on making the others understand that they hurt Roman. Everyone in the Mindscape knew that Roman was hurt, Virgil should’ve helped fix that, taken care of Roman, not pushed the blame onto everyone else.
 Maybe Roman didn’t like what he had to say about Disney films. They were Roman’s comfort watches, the last thing he needed was for someone to cruelly rip away his enjoyment of one of the few things he could enjoy.
 Maybe Roman didn’t like Virgil’s way of taking care of him. Virgil never pushed, never did Roman the courtesy of asking, like Roman did with him, just assumed he knew best how to comfort someone and left it there. Roman might’ve needed more hugs, more time, less distraction, just something other than what Virgil gave him.
 Maybe Roman didn’t like how much Virgil ended up hoarding him to himself. Not letting him go to the others for comfort, just to work things out. Maybe he thought Virgil was just keeping him upset so he could hang out with him more.
 Or maybe…
 Virgil muffles his sob in the pillow.
 Maybe Roman needed or wanted him anyway.
 Maybe Roman was just waiting until he could get the comfort he actually wanted. Maybe he waited until the others were easier to talk to so he could go back to what he really needed. Maybe Virgil was just a placeholder until Roman could get hugs from Patton and Remus, talk with Logan and Janus, not him. Never him.
 Maybe that’s…okay.
 It’s not, it won’t be fucking okay for a long time, but one day, it will be okay.
 Virgil curses and throttles the pillow in his arms, wishing for it to be real, to be warm, to be a chest of white and gold and a splash of red, for it to wraps its arms around him and say it’s okay, shadow-ling, I’m here, I won’t leave you, shh.
 But it’s just a pillow.
 Has his room always been this cold?
 Have Disney movies always looked this flat?
 Has music always sounded this gray?
 Has Virgil always been this alone?
 He can hear them in the living room below him. He can hear Roman and Logan throwing quips back and forth, can hear Remus tackling his brother into the wall, and Roman protesting. He can hear Janus scolding Remus and checking to make sure Roman’s not injured, can hear Roman wave him off gently and go right back to verbally sparring with Logan. He can hear Patton laughing too hard, falling off the couch and begging the two of them to let up, let him breathe, can hear Roman coo and call him sweet, adorable, in that soft voice he only uses when he’s talking to someone he cares about.
 Can’t hear any of them worrying about where he is.
 Maybe it’s better this way.
 He got greedy, took too much of what was never his to take, what wasn’t given to him freely. He latched onto the first thing he thought was for him and didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t. He may think he’s been included in the famILY but he knows he’s still an outsider.
 He may be Virgil now but deep down he’ll always be Anxiety.
 So here he will stay, in the cold of his room, in the dark of his face smushed into a pillow that will never be real. He will stay and he will be happy.
 But not today.
 He sniffles and smears his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie, not bothering to pull away from the pillow long enough to wipe tears properly. His limbs start to protest as he hugs it tighter, tighter, tighter, but it’s no use. He can feel his own arms through the pillow. There isn’t enough—there’s too much give in the pillow. It’s just a fucking pillow but it’s not enough.
 Another laugh from downstairs and Virgil growls, burying his head in the pillow until he can’t hear himself think.
 Can’t hear anything but his own muffled sobs ringing in his ears.
 Can’t hear anything other than the thought swirling around and around his head that he’ll never be enough, that he’ll never be wanted, that he’ll never be anything other than Anxiety.
 Can’t hear the soft knock at the door.
 “Virgil?”
 The voices in his head must be getting pretty powerful because he’s certain he can hear Roman calling for him. He buries deeper in the pillow.
 “Virgil? Virgil, can you hear me?”
 Yes, he thinks, yes, I can hear you, which means I’m not crying hard enough.
 “Can I come in, shadow-ling?”
 Yes, he thinks, come in and make me forget that you don’t need me anymore.
 He must really be losing it because he thinks he can hear the door open and close again with a soft click, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a soft coo.
 “Oh, shadow-ling,” the imaginary Roman murmurs, “come here, little Stormcloud.”
 Oh, his imagination is being cruel to him right now because the sensation of warm arms around his waist and shoulders fucking burns. He buries his face in the pillow until he can’t tell which way is up anymore, not sure how he’s tricked himself into imagining Roman’s cradling him but too unwilling to let the illusion go.
 “That’s right, Stormcloud, relax for me, I’ve got you, I’m right here, shh, shh, you’re alright,” the imaginary Roman keeps whispering in that cruelly soft voice, “you’re doing great, shadow-ling.”
 Virgil wants him to be real. So bad he aches from it. But he knows he’s not.
 What happens next breaks his fucking heart.
 The imaginary Roman kisses him.
 It’s chaste, a barely-there brush of his lips against his forehead but it tears a whine out of Virgil’s throat before he can stop it. The imaginary Roman hushes him gently, pressing another kiss to the part of his cheek not buried in the pillow and it taunts him with how real it feels. The slightly chapped lips, the warm rush of air as Roman breathes, the light brush of his nose as he pulls away.
 It’s too much.
 It’s too much and he wants it to be real so badly but he knows the instant he pulls away it will vanish and that might just break him.
 Then he realizes the imaginary Roman is talking to him.
 “Breathe, Stormcloud, you’ve got to breathe,” he coaxes, “I know it’s tempting to stay buried in a pillow all day, but you can’t breathe properly like that, sweetheart.”
  No, no, don’t call me sweetheart, I’ll break.
 “Shadow-ling, Stormcloud, my darling,” the imaginary Roman says instead, “come on…”
 Well, now he’s disappointing imaginary Roman too. Figures. He can’t do anything right.
 “Of course you can,” the imaginary Roman pleads, “just breathe for me, shadow-ling, I’m right here, I’ve got you, you can keep your eyes closed if you need to, just breathe.”
 Another whine. Another kiss pressed against his head. The whine grows louder.
 “Shh, shh, my darling,” imaginary Roman murmurs, “breathe, come on, just—trust me, okay? Can I ask that of you, Stormcloud?”
 And goddamnit, this is why Virgil can’t do anything.
 Virgil trusts him.
 So he prepares himself for heartbreak and lifts his head.
 “Thank you, shadow-ling,” imaginary Roman—wait, he’s still here?—murmurs, rubbing his back, “there you go, now just breathe—oh! Oh, come here, lean on me, I’ve got you.”
 Having listed to the side horribly, Virgil lands against a solidwarmsafereal chest and—and—
 “R-Roman?”
 “Yes, my darling,” not imaginary Roman says, still kissing Virgil’s forehead, “I’m here, I’m here.”
 White-hot rage burns Virgil’s tears.
 He lets out a yell and shoves, not caring that it throws them both horribly off-balance, threatening to send him tumbling to the floor. He hears Roman cry out, trying to keep ahold of him, but he scrabbles and gets his hands around the bedpost and pulls.
 “Virgil—Virgil stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“
 “Why do you care?” The rage coats his tongue. “You fucking left, you—you—you fucking didn’t care about me anymore, you decided you didn’t want me anymore and you fucking left so don’t try and care now!”
 “Virgil—sweetheart, I—“
 “Don’t fucking call me that!” He keeps his eyes squeezed tight. “You didn’t give a fuck about me when you left, when you got your fucking family back, you think—you think you can just waltz back in like you didn’t abandon me?”
 “Virgil—“
 “Because you did, Roman!” Virgil blindly shoves at where the prince was before, knocking him into the wall. “You fucking left me as soon as you got the others back like I—like I never did anything for you and now you—now you can’t even look at me.”
 “I’m looking at you now.”
 Virgil laughs.
 He throws his head back and howls until his chest and throat ache.
 “You didn’t give a shit when the others started talking to you. You just fucking up and abandoned me like you never cared about me in the first place. You replaced me with them or—or abandoned me as your placeholder and I’m fucking hurt, Roman.”
 “I know.”
 “Then why did you do it?”
 Silence.
 Virgil’s heart stops.
 No.
 No, no, no, no—
 He fucked up.
 He fucked up so bad.
 Roman left.
 Roman’s not here anymore.
 Roman left again, he made Roman leave, he—he fucked up so bad, he shouldn’t have yelled, he’s fucked up, he hurt Roman, no, no, no, no—
 On instinct, his hands hook into claws.
 Only to be caught by warmsolidreal hands and brought to something soft.
 “Don’t,” comes Roman’s softsaferealhurt voice, murmuring in his ear as he holds him still, “don’t scratch, sweetheart.”
 “Don’t—“
 “I know, I know,” Roman says immediately, “you said not to call you that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”
 …what?
 “I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” comes the voice again, “that’s no excuse, I know, but please, Virgil, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to abandon you.”
 Virgil swallows. “What the fuck do you call it then?”
 “I didn’t want to push my luck.”
  What?
 “You were being so good to me, Virgil,” Roman murmurs, oblivious to the internal struggle Virgil’s currently facing, “so kind, so supportive, that I…I realized I wanted to ask more from you. Things I had no business asking. And the longer you kept on being you, the harder it was to resist the urge to push and risk shattering everything you’d let me build with you.”
 “What—“ Virgil swallows— “what the fuck did you want?”
 Roman stills in front of him. With his eyes still shut, he can’t tell what’s going on, but when Roman speaks next his voice is hoarse.
 “Before I ask,” comes the whisper, “I want you to know that you have every right to say no. You can push me away, shove me out of your room, stay angry at me for as long as you want. I’ve hurt you, badly, and I have no right to ask this of you. I want you to know that. That I’m okay with you asserting that right.”
 Fuck, Princey.
 “…what do you want?”
 A pause. Then a soft rush of air, right on his face.
 “May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”
 Oh.
  Oh.
  Oh, no.
 “R-Roman?”
 “That’s it,” Roman murmurs and oh, his mouth is right next to Virgil’s, “that’s what I want, shadow-ling.”
 He shifts a little until Virgil can feel Roman’s warmth.
 “That and everything that goes with it.”
 “Why—why did you leave? I-if that’s what you wanted?”
 “Because that would mean to push,” Roman says immediately, “and the last thing I wanted was to push you away. I thought if I could…rein it in, control it, I could…I wouldn’t hurt you.”
 A soft chuckle.
 “Look how well that turned out.”
 “But the others—“
 “I needed Remus to tell me what was going on,” Roman says wryly, “Janus to point out that I was okay in wanting something, Patton to help me figure it out, and Logan to kick my ass into doing it.”
 “To…to ask me?”
 “Yes, Stormcloud,” comes the whisper, “to ask you.”
 “And if I say yes?”
 He can feel Roman’s lips turn up.
 “…then I’ll kiss you, Stormcloud.”
 “Are you really here?”
 The question bursts out of him before he can stop it, immediately biting his lip in reprimand for letting it.
 “Open your eyes, Virgil,” Roman says softly, “look at me.”
 He shakes his head, not wanting it to be imaginary. Not now, not after this. Roman squeezes his hands.
 “Look at me, Stormcloud,” he whispers, “look at me.”
  Fuck it.
 Roman smiles at him, real and warm and soft and here. He squeezes Virgil’s hands again and takes the smallest step closer.
 “I’m here,” he says, wrapping Virgil’s arms around his neck, “I’m right here, shadow-ling.”
 He’s here.
 This won’t fix everything. But it’s one hell of a start.
 “Ask me again.”
 “May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”
 Virgil shakes his head. “Not like that. Ask me properly.”
 Confusion dances on Roman’s face before realization hits. His smile widens and he brings a hand to Virgil’s head. Virgil clutches Roman tight as he gets dipped into the prince’s arms. Roman leans forward until his mouth almost catches Virgil’s.
 “May I kiss you, sweetheart?”
  “Yes.”
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lnfours ¡ 4 years ago
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positions: just like magic | t.h
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summary: you’re an artist, new to town and looking for a place to stay. tom’s old roommate left him with a chunk of the rent to pay for, and gives you the offer. you become roommates, but as time progresses, you feel yourself start to trip and fall, and it seems like there’s no safety net under you… unless he catches you.
warnings: roommate!au, bestie!tom, musician!reader,  fluff, language, and cute little moments. 
wc: short but sweet 1k
masterlist⎜next⎜ listen
you woke up in the morning to someone jumping on you, making you jump awake. the boy laughed, and you groaned into your pillow, knowing it was tom. 
“rise and shine, darling.”
you groaned again, not wanting to move,”no.”
“oh c’mon, y/n!” he chuckled again,”get up and get out there and make it your day.”
“you sound like a motivational quote on pinterest.”
he sighed,”guess you’re not getting donuts then.”
you lifted your head up and opened one eye,”hmm?”
“oh now you’re up?”
“you mentioned donuts.” you laid back down on your pillow, still looking at him. 
it had been almost a year since you moved in with the boys, looking for a place to stay and tom was looking to split the rent with someone since the last person walked out on them. when you offered, he was glad to help you. 
“yeah, got you strawberry,” he hit your leg and you smiled, thinking about how he remembered it was your favorite,”if you don’t hurry i’m gonna eat it.”
you sat up,”you wouldn’t.”
he smirked and said, cockily,”try me.” and with that he was opening your door. you jumped up out of the bed, following him down the hall way as you chased after him. 
“thomas stanley holland! i’m gonna kill you!”
he laughed loudly and the boys all watched as you jumped on his back, him being quick enough to catch you before he was able to get the donut off the counter. 
“here, here,” he said, letting you down before handing you the donut,”was just tryna get you out of bed.”
you rolled your eyes and took a seat next to harry, looking at whatever the boys decided to watch on tv. 
“what’s everyone’s plans for the day?” harrison asked and you shrugged. 
“ill be here, working on shit i wrote last night.”
“we’re going to the gym in a bit,” tom motioned to the 4 of them,”wanna come?”
you shook your head,”i’m good, i just want to get this idea out of my head before i forget it.”
everyone nodded at your statement, knowing how you get when you have an idea in your head. 
you had a small following on your socials being you were a solo artist. no record label, no producer, no writers, nothing. just you, your voice, your journal, and your talent. and you didn’t mind it that way. it felt more like a hobby than a job that way.
after you all got done breakfast and conversing about your day, you made it back to your room and sat down at your desk. you put your headphones on and started writing in your journal, your handwriting a bit messy from writing fast so it didn’t leave your head. 
“i just wanna have a good day” meditation at 1:30 “good karma my aesthetic” manifestation “im attractive  i get everything i want because i attract it” “i don’t wanna waist your time with some dumb shit, password to your phone you could miss me with that shit”
you remembered you had an unfinished file and clicked on it, listening to the best before starting to sing the lyrics you wrote down. you nodded your head along to the beat, humming softly to yourself. you didn’t hear the footsteps approach your door, the knock, or the opening of your door as you got too lost in what you were doing. it wasn’t until someone tapped your shoulder that you realized you weren’t alone. 
you jumped, ripping off the headphones,”jesus christ, holland.”
you looked at tom as he chuckled,”i was just seeing if you were busy.”
“kind of, wait,” you passed him a pair of headphones,”listen.”
he sat down next to you, pulling the other chair over as you played the beat. he nodded and you smiled, grabbing the mic and starting to sing one of the lyrics.
“just like magic, i’m attractive,” you smiled,”i get everything i want cause i attract it.”
he nodded and smiled softly over at you,”sounds fuckin incredible.”
you paused the music coming from the headphones,”thank you.”
he nodded,”i can’t wait to hear it when you add more to it.”
you smiled softly at him, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear,”did you wanna ask something earlier?”
“oh, yeah!” he chuckled,”yeah, uh, we’re going out with some friends later tonight and wanted to see if you cared to join. just a few drinks and a pub quiz downtown.”
you smiled,”sounds fun.”
“it’s marvel themed.”
“of course it is,” you laughed,”what time?”
“like 7:30-ish,” he said,”starts at 8.”
“okay awesome,” you said and he nodded handing you the headphones back before spinning in the chair,”ever heard back from that girl?”
he shook his head,”nah, she’s not really my type anyway.”
“well, what’s your type, tom?” you chuckled, looking back at your monitor. he stared at you for a second before shifting his eyes on something else. 
“not sure,” he said,”the nice ones. that girl was kinda a dick to you.”
you snorted,”yeah, aren’t they all, though?”
“yeah, but she thought we were low-key sleeping with each other.” he said. 
you almost choked as you turned to look at him, a smile on his face, both of you knowing that’s ridiculous,”thats the funniest thing i’ve ever heard in my life.”
he rolled his eyes,”you act like you don’t wanna take a ride on the tom train.”
you raised and eyebrow, but inside your heart skipped a beat as he motioned to himself, leaning back in the office chair.
in all honesty, tom was attractive. you always found him attractive. but he was your friend. your roommate. that’s not how things work. 
damn you, holland. 
“no thank you.” you chuckled, lying to him and mostly to yourself. 
“well,” he chuckled,”you have fun with your little music thing, i’m gonna go do manly things.”
you laughed,”you do that.”
“don’t forget, leaving at 7:30.”
“yep, gotcha.” 
he walked out the room, closing the door behind him as you kept busy, thinking in your head whether or not it would be such a bad idea to admit to yourself that you were catching feelings for your roommate.
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iyabutterfly ¡ 2 years ago
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Im ready to throw my hands in the air, and give my kids away to the first person that raises their hand. What advice do you have for this single mother? Im stressed. I can't find a way out. It doesn't matter what "best decision" I make, because it always ends up bitting me in the rear. And I'm only human, so you already know I make "bad decisions" as well.
I just never saw myself as a Single Mother. I was with my Children's Father since high-school. 14 years we made it. We never got married, and that's only my second mistake. My first mistake was committing and moving in so young. I was too young, so what did I know? We got together junior year, and I moved in with his parents right after graduation. Never even had a real date. Like, whoo raised me??!! (That's a whole other post on childhood traumas😒)
Anyway, I gave him ALL of me. All of my time and commitment. All of my love and nurturing. I wasn't perfect but my world revolved around him, his family and his needs. Who knows what that did to me and my family?? It estranged me. I'm the second oldest of my Mothers 6 kids. The 4th oldest of my Fathers 5 and when my Mother finally married, that added 5 more to my list. "You only call when you need something" "Where's *******?" At this point I'm just ashamed and embarrassed.
We broke up so many times...And took each other back....again and again. TOXIC MADNESS. verbal abuse. mental abuse. physical abuse. I played my toxic role. No lies. I won't even make excuses about how "I can only take so much before I clash back". Because sometimes, I picked with him first.
And it wasn't always all bad. We had some amazing times as well. I know he loved me just as much as I loved him. I just don't know what happened. Where did I fail? NOW I have nothing. I stayed at home and taught my boys and catered to him for so long, I'm lost now. No home. No financial or emotional support. My anxieties are through the roof. Everything that I spent my young life creating, just ripped away. I'm really so angry AND sad.
And now I'm really screwed up, because my anxieties and depression led me to alcohol. I got into trouble. And not just once. My record is now tampered with, making it hard to get a decent paying job. And the decent paying ones that I can get are so far away that it's hard to balance my life on the bus line. School is starting back up Monday. Due to my living situation, I have to take the bus to get them to school. The bus is my life.. What does their Father help me with?? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Not a penny. Not an hour. And do you know why? Because I won't give him sex. He feels like if he does anything for me, then he deserves my body. Im halfway tempted to give in, for a number of reasons. I need help. I CANT THINK STRAIGHT. I CANT FOCUS. I have so much to get done and think about, I can't think. The boys are always with me. I had to take them to an interview 😫 Guess how that went. Nothing I start gets completed. I'm looking and looking into resources. Either nothing for me, or I'm not in the district or I simply missed the appointment. I'm up late night because it's my only place and then I can't hear my alarm in the am. ON TOP OF needing to get things done, I have these handsome, innocent sweet little boys that deserve the world. I can't give it to them. I get impatient 😔 I yell. It's killing me that they have gone through so much, and I'm just putting them through more. It's killing me that I can't tend to all their needs. I'm dying inside. I need my village but it doesn't seem that I have one. I let my relationship shut everyone out, and now it's just too late. I really can go on and on and on. I could write books detaling my life and Noone would ever get bored. I guess the advice that I need is
HOW DO YOU FOCUS?
HOW DO YOU, as a Single parent, juggle life with work and kids and cleaning and self care? How do you get these things done, without pulling out your hair or thrusting your head through the wall?
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kissme-hs ¡ 4 years ago
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Tainted love: 3
Here it is!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to update it but let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy it.
~Ria
Pairing: Fem! Reader x Chris Evans
Warnings: None.
*_*_*_*_*_*
Hatred is far from the feeling you felt. You were disgusted. Utterly disgusted with the man you put your trust and faith and your heart into who did nothing but took it for granted and it all into little crumbs of pain. All this time you blamed yourself for HIS actions that he not only did while being in his complete sense but knowing how wrong it is-continued doing it. The image you had of Chris in your mind now vanished, the man you once thought deserved to be prayed now made your stomach churn because of how shameful he turned out to be.
After sending him the text you thought, oh you thought that he would realize what he lost, that he would feel a little bit at least of regret in the back of his head but you were so wrong. It not only made you feel worthless but made you realize instead how your love meant nothing to him, how all those years you spent in each other’s arm vowing to each other to be in love until the end of time was nothing but a lie to him. Where to you it meant your entire life.
One doesn’t stay with a person for three years not to just fuck and say I love you’s for fun. With the years the feelings grow strong and at some point, you start fantasizing marrying that person, having kids with the person, grow old with the person. But when one decides to go and cheat, putting all the years of love in ignorance and throwing it all in the pit of darkness not only everything changes but the dreams once knitted by the eyes of the one who remained faithful in love, who was the true lover gets struck by the lightening of reality. And once the dreams crashes, it becomes nearly impossible to dream again because the dreamer starts seeing the real world.
Fuck dreams.
Became your to go motto ever since you knocked on his door.
The heavy teal door opened after a few knocks as you held your breath getting yourself ready to face the man who ripped your heart apart. But instead you were met by a pair of green eyes, gorgeous eyes. She stood there in his hoodie and a pair of short showing her perfect toned legs. Her dirty blonde hair and fuller plumps would made any man lose his girl and go crawling to her. She was an absolute piece of art.
“Chris we have someone here for you” She yelled leaning back a bit so the man could hear her. She gave you a side smile as a gesture of kindness. She was aware she was a homewrecker, she knew how much Chris loved you and she also knew being a good friend she should’ve stopped him when things became a routine between them two but she couldn’t say no to him. Chris would make any women go crawling to him too. She was equally shameful for what she has done not as close to how Chris was feeling but still. So when Chris asked her to come over explaining her what happen which she knew would some day she didn’t hesitate coming over comforting him.
“i-im Samantha” she replied stepping aside letting you step inside of your his house. The smell of familiar cologne and candles hit your nostrils making you tear up from the past good memories. Gi ving her a tiniest sad smile and a nod, you stepped inside of the house. Turning your gaze up to the sound of approaching footsteps you saw the man, and oh sweet jesus you thought you’d hate him but how could you when the feeling of love was always greater than hatred. But the pain crept up when you saw Samantha walking to him and rubbing his side comforting him, though she was guilty, she still at some point enjoyed the attention Chris gave her.
Though she might have a portion of kindness in her heart she was known for breaking homes. She was used to getting in pants of men who were committed. It made her feel special; it made her feel like gold that everyone loved chasing. Especially in this case, knowing what a prize Chris’s girlfriend, you were she was over the moon. She loved how Chris was willing to give up a beautiful woman with a proper job and who had her life sorted for someone who was nothing compared to you.
“Y/n” he breathed out ignoring the woman rubbing his arm. His eyes getting wet seeing your face after days. Jeez only if he could kiss you and tell you how much he missed you and loved you.
“I-im sorry, I’m so sorry” He said walking to you as you raised your hand telling him to stop, which he understood nodding his head and taking a step back. He felt the ache in his heart.
“He really is sorry, he told me everything after you texted him so I came running” Samantha uttered rubbing Chris’s back. It did nothing to you but made your blood boil as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath not wanting to say something which could hurt her feelings. Opening your mouth telling her to leave you heard Chris say that instead.
“Can I ask you to leave please?” He asked her taking a deep breath trying not to yell either.
“I-“
“Get out, get off my property” you spat. You and Chris jointly brought this house so you wouldn’t feel a burden on him being the independent woman you were. Feeling like she was shamed in front of two successful people, Samantha gathered her stuff and left within the next coming minute. Though you were a softie, there was no doubt you has a powerful side too.
“I’m sorry baby, I am so sorry. Please give me a second chance.”
“Why Chris? Why did you cheat on me? Was my love was not enough for you to sleeping with her. Tell me Chris did you not feel a little bit of shame fucking on OUR bed? Tell me why did you have to go and do that making me look like a fool? Why did you waste my time? WHY DID YOU FAKED THE LOVE if you wanted to cheat?” You finally let it out. You were crying at this not giving a fuck. He deserved to see how broken he left you. You were not going to act like everything was fine, like you didn’t care when you felt dead inside.
“No. No baby. Never for once I ever faked my love for you.” He cried cupping your cheeks-you finally let him touch you because you wanted to feel his warmth on your cold skin. His own eyes crying as you sobbed yourself.
“I-I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know why I decided to chase a rock when I had the most precious diamond. She is nothing compared to you. Nothing. I love you so much” He whispered resting his forehead against yours. You knew deep down he meant what he said. You felt the words hitting your body making your knees go week but it was for the best. The separation. So pushing him back slightly you gathered your broken pieces up.
“I just came to tell you that I am moving to California. I will always cherish the good memories you gave me” you gave him a broken smile wiping your tears with the back of your hand.
“No please give me one more chance” Chris pleaded grabbing your hands. His defeated eyes begged yours to give in, to see that he wasn’t lying anymore. That he was truly sorry for what he has done but being the strong headed woman you are, you shook your head and wiped his tears with your hand before cupping his cheek.
“It’s for the best. I still love you, but it’s not the same Chris. Let me let you go”
That was an year ago. An year ago you left the man standing on his porch as you turned your back on his forever, making your way to the new life that waited ahead of you in Los Angeles. The city of angels. The city that gave you a chance to put your words into songs, let your shattered voice sing it in a melody helping you reach out to him without reaching out to him.
And today you stood in front of over 100 amazing successful celebrities who warmly welcomed you in the family of Hollywood and decided to join you for your album launch party. You didn’t hesitate writing down your deepest condolences you had for yourself and singing it out. Every word people heard in the songs came from the bottom of your heart. Came within the true feeling of getting lost and found again.
Getting into the industry wasn’t hard for you. You were already a known person working for Hollywood and it not only being the reason how you met Chris it also gave you an opportunity  to let your talent out. All those months you spent working hard to get acceptance by one of the music producers was the time when Chris was fucking Samantha. Only if he stayed the night you begged him to, he would’ve known it all.
Your album was dedicated to Chris. No one knew expect you. No one could know anyways.
Stepping down the mini platform where you expressed you gratitude to the audience you made your way to where the bar was set up to drink in the emotions that were bubbling up your throat from all the love you received to the pain that still ached in every nerve in your body. It was impossible to erase the memory of him fucking Samantha from your head. You were proud to you say you tried. Tried every way of escaping his face haunting your dreams every night. The feelings choking you down. The pain eating you alive. But you couldn’t.
“What you said there was beautiful.” You heard the deep voice of the man who you left standing on the door of Boston an year ago. Turning your body around, mentally preparing yourself for the wave of mixed emotions to hit you like a truck you faced his adorningly beautiful face. His beard looked fuller and his hair fluffier. He looked the same but his eyes looked dead, just like they were when you left.
“Thank you.” You gave him a broken smile.
“Can we talk? Please?” He asked you with eyes full of hope and you nodded letting him guide you out to the balcony that had the perfect view of the city. He deserved some time with you after an year of you completely blocking him out. He deserved to know that the words coming out of your mouth in the song were written about him.
“It about you, you know. The album” You said walking over to the railing looking at the illuminous city.
“I figured, I never knew you were working on something so big.” He stood beside you.
“You would have if you stayed”
“Listen, I’m not going to waste any more time. Im here to beg you back in life, I am sorry for what I have done but please give me a chance. That one year spent without you was my living hell. Everyday I prayed for you to come back but you never did and there’s no question why. I am a horrible man but I promise if you let me prove it that I am so much better than I was I wont let you down. I will love you even more than I ever have” he said with a soft voice guilt dripping with every word he spoke making you turn around to face him. His eyes glistening with tears and his hands holding each other in front of his chest.
Man was literally begging you.
“Hey you are not a horrible man.” You whispered walking to him as you put his hands down and held his one cheek in your hand. He instantly nuzzled his nose feeling your skin after days of being away from you. His knees were giving away and so was his heart.
“We all make mistakes but learning from them and moving on is important. I forgave you the minute I stepped away from our relationship. You’re nothing but still the most precious man I ever had” you said. Your own eyes picking the tears.
“then give me a chance” he spoke kissing your palm staring down In your eyes making your belly turn in knots.
“I cant. I have moved on Chris” You said breaking his heart. He breathed out biting his lower lip as he looked on. He never felt so defeated and helpless. But this is what he deserved for throwing away the best he ever had. For not respecting the beautiful relationship and woman he was meant to guard. He opened his mouth but the lump in his throat got in the way. He could just break down.
“Then let me be your friend. I just want to be in your life. Make up for what I’ve missed. Please don’t say no.” He trembled in fear you would reject him but instead you nod your head and pull him in a hug knowing he would break if you didn’t. Still knowing him like the back of your head you gave in his request hoping you could contain the emotions.
It is said, two who once fell in love can never be friends. Once in love, always in love.
So you stood there holding him, closed your eyes letting the man calm his cries. Falling back in the chakra of tainted love.
-
Tags
@captainchrisstan
@evansphnx12
@adriannajackson
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glassartpeasants ¡ 4 years ago
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I’m Sorry
Shigaraki x Reader
Warnings: Angst, like REALLY ANGST
A/N: I came up with this at work, i literally wrote down an entire plot to a story in about 30 minutes. I don’t know if i should feel proud or ashamed
~~~
You sat in your car sighing heavily as you put the seat down to look up at the stars, since you had opened your sunroof. Your arms going behind your head to create a make shift pillow as you waited for your boyfriends response.
Tomura Shigaraki, Leader of the League of villains was your boyfriend, and god did you love him. You loved him more then anything else in the world. But for some reason it felt like he was ignoring you. You look at the text your sent and just stared at it wondering if you said something wrong. You scanned over it again realizing he just hadn’t opened it yet.
You grab the necklace that was hanging around your neck and fiddle with it between your fingers. The metal reminding you of when he officially asked for you to be his.
The necklace was a symbol of devotion to one another. You always wore the necklace cause it made you feel butterflies every time you looked at it. Shigaraki always wore his too. It was so romantic,
Well it was romantic.
You had noticed recently that he stopped wearing it, or forgetting. You didn’t mind at first cause everyone’s forgetful sometimes but it did bother you when it became a regular thing. He’d always say he left it on his nightstand or took it off when he was going to bed. These were all rational explanations but he didn’t even bother to put it back on. It felt like you guys were drifting apart, which ripped a hole right through your heart.
Not to mention every time you went into the hideout, everyone gave you looks of pity. You don’t know why they did but you weren’t gonna question it. You refused to believe that Shigaraki would do anything to hurt you.
~~~
After your little session in the car you had gone grocery shopping for the League, something you would do often. They gave you a list of food they wanted and you got it for them.
You packed up all the groceries in your car and drove towards the building. You smiled all the way there. They didn’t know you were coming it was going to be a suprise! Oh won’t Shigaraki be happy!
You park outside the building and as you got out you see a lady coming out of the building you’ve never seen before. Normally you wouldn’t mind someone like that but...
She had Shigaraki’s hoodie on.
“Hey wait miss! Can i speak to you?” You said running up to her.
“Oh of course, what do you need?”
“Um i was wondering where you got the jacket from? I really like it.” You lie, you wanna know why this woman has your man’s jacket on, but you wanna hear what she has to say first before you go ape shit.
“Oh its my boyfriends! Isn’t it cool! That’s not the only thing he got me either, he gave me this necklace as well. He told me that as long as i have this on, it would show how much i love him. Isn’t that romantic!” Your heart shattered in your chest. You couldn’t believe it. No you wouldn’t, he said he only loved you. How long as this affair been going on? You needed more answers.
“That’s super awesome! How long have you guys been dating?” You smile holding back your tears and the burning urge to scream out of your chest.
“Almost 1 year!” She was so happy, could you tell her? Would she even believe you? She seemed even more happy then you been for the part 2 months, she seemed to be everything you weren’t.
Long hair, curvy, not an inch of skin imperfections, and lets not forget how much bigger her chest was compared to yours. She was everything a man could ever want. Hell she was there for most of your relationship, you guys have been dating for a year and 4 months.
“IM so happy for you! I have to go but i hope to see you later!” You lie through your teeth, you never wanted to see her again.
She drove off while you open the doors to the building looking down as tears streamed your face, your lungs burning with the need to scream and sob.
You open the door to the main room where Shigaraki sat with, Dabi, Spinner. Toga, and Twice. Your arms shaking as you could feel everyone staring at you.
“(Y/N) what brings you here?” Spinner asked before you pushed past him, you grabbed the necklace from off your neck, pulling it off letting bits and pieces of the chain to fall onto the floor. You throw the necklace at Shigaraki before slapping him across the face.
“How fucking dare you! Your such an inconsiderate piece of shit! You thought i wouldn’t find out?! Was she good huh?! Was she worth it?!” Your screams could e heard through the entire building, everyone’s eyes on you as you screamed at their leader. Shigaraki’s eyes were wide, you could see it behind father.
“I-”
“Don’t say a thing! I should have never agreed to be your girlfriend! Was it because she had a better body then me?! Did she satisfy your fucking needs?!” Your rage was outstanding as more tears streamed down your face, the pain of knowing your supposed love of your life was going around with other women. Shigaraki said nothing as he took the screams, his eyes soon looked uninterested and bored, which only fueled your fire.
“You know what fuck you, i wish i never met you. Enjoy that bitch cause im done!” You only cry more as you ran out of the room and out of the building, getting into your car and driving off.
Shigaraki didn’t move an inch as trying to keep his composure. But on the inside he was shaking. He was going to break it off he promised! He was going to the next time he saw her, why couldn’t you have come a little later? Why did you just show up damn you!
Your words cut like knives into Shigaraki’s skin, as the image of you crying kept replaying in his head.
“Nice job Handman.” Shigaraki turned his head towards the burnt male.
“IT’s not your place to talk so shut the hell up.”
“It’s not your place to talk either, must suck knowing the girl that would have taken a bullet for you left you. But can’t say i didn’t see this coming.” Shigaraki stayed silent. He didn’t want to say anything he just wanted to figure out a way to make you come back.
~~~
1 month later
Ice cream.
As stereotypical as that sounds, ice cream had become your best friend for the past few weeks. You just ate your heart away, not mentioning that you threw up everything you ate.
After your fight with Shigaraki you blocked him on everything. His number? Blocked. His gamer profile? Blocked. Everything was blocked.
You had even moved to another part of town, he knew where you lived so you just deiced to up and leave, your lease was over soon anyways. You thankfully found another apartment. It was small but it was perfect for you.
You’ve watched the news a few times looking for any sign of Shigaraki and his plans. But nothing occurred.
“Aw shit-” You ran to the bathroom as fast as you could about to throw up everything you ate that day.
~~~
“Well fuck.” You look down at the home pregnancy test. A positive home pregnancy test.
“What do i do now?” You sat down on the bathroom floor looking up at the ceiling. You liked kids so having on shouldn’t be a problem right? 
But the fact that it was your cheating ex’s is the problem...
“No! I will not think about that crusty rat anymore! I don’t need him to be happy i have everything i need right here!” You say to yourself as you get up off the bathroom floor.
“I will take care of this baby and I’ll be the best mother that their could possibly be!” You hype yourself up as smile to yourself. He may be Shigaraki’s child ut that doesn’t mean you can’t love your kid. You would love the kid to the ends of the earth, and no cheating ex will stop that.
~~~
Shigaraki laid down on his bed staring at the ceiling, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He couldn’t help it, he’d actually lost you.
He tried contacting in in every form possible, once he realize you blocked his number. Once he called from a payphone only to find out you changed your number as well.
He broke off ties with the other girl, hoping it would bring you back. Which it didn’t. 
Now he was alone again, the feeling of emptiness crept back up from the depths of his mind as his bed was cold. Your body no longer there to warm it. It ate him alive, the realization that he would never feel your fingertips brush through his hair again or the comforting words you said that put him to sleep.
His thoughts were his own worse enemy, he hated how much that fateful day replayed in his head. Over and over again until it corrupted his everyday life.
His bitterness was soon taking over. The madness that was Tomura Shigaraki slowly crept into his thoughts. Corrupting them, warping his mind making it seem like you were in the wrong not him.
He couldn’t bare to handle the insufferable guilt that he felt so he occupied himself with work. Running the LOV to escape the fractured pieces of his mind.
Within 3 months you were no longer plaguing his mind.
~~~
We skipping to when reader give birth
As you laid down in the hospital bed with your newborn child in your hand you couldn’t help but tear up. 
You were 100% sure that your little girl was going to look like her dad, hell she even had the same eyes and mole. 
But you couldn’t dwell on the fact she didn’t have a single feature of yours yet all you could think about was the amazing smile she gave you as soon as she saw you.
“Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing.” You cooed at the baby as she giggled at you. She reached her little chubby baby hands at you and grabbed your nose. You chuckled before giving her a kiss on the cheek as you sung her a little lullaby in your arms.
~~~
2 Years later
You watch the TV as the war keeps going on. Fighting and war is all people seem to do nowadays. You were afraid, your not even scared to admit it. After hearing about Shigaraki and learning that He’s now the leader of a huge army made you very scared for your daughter. HE may not know she exists but it still scares you.
You sigh at the Tv before getting up and putting on your jacket getting ready to pick up your daughter from your parents house.
You step out of your door and lock it before going down to your car. Putting your purse in the passenger seat as you buckled up and started the car before pulling out on the road.
Little did you know someone was watching...
~~~
“Pwease! pwetty pwease!” Your daughter whined trying to convince you to let her play on the swings near your parents house. You looked at your daughter as she gave you the puppy eyes.
“Fine, your lucky i love you so much.” You daughter squealed as she ran to the swing and waited for your help.
You laugh as you put your daughter in the baby swing and push her a little bit. Her baby blue hair moving along with the motions. You were right when she got her appearance from Shigaraki but she had your facial features.
‘At least she got something from me’ You chuckled to yourself before you hear your daughters giggles grow quiet.
“Sweetie what’s wrong?” Concern wired in your voice. She kept on looking on the other side of the street, so you look too.
Once your eyes were scanning for a bit they blew wide open as a patch of similar blue hair caught your vision.
No it couldn’t be....you moved how did Shigaraki... how did he find you?
You pick up your daughter before quickly walking towards your car. You car was in eye sight before a gruff voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Is she mine....”You back stiffened as you felt his eyes burning into you. There was no escaping him at this moment.
“Mommy who’s that?” Your daughter asked, her little body trembling as she looked at the hooded man in fear.
“Shigaraki, take your hood off your scaring her.” Your voice stern, laced with poison as all the emotions waved over you once more.
“You know i can’t do that. Answer my question, is she mine.” His voice laced in the same poison you once spoke in.
“No shit sherlock.” You look at him as you hear him let out a huff of air.
“Can...can i see her...” His voice was weak as you saw his hand twitch. HE refused to look at you the entire time.
“You think I’d let you see her?! Shigaraki look at yourself! Your an S-Class villain! If people saw you with her they’d go after her! Im not letting you see her.”
“I know im a villain but she’s my kid too damnit!”
“You didn’t even know she existed! Why now huh?! Why after almost 3 years do you decide to show up now huh?!” Your voice shooting daggers into Shigaraki’s heart once more.
He happened to stumble by you guys on accident, he was walking home from getting a new game when he heard your voice. It may have been years but he could always remember your lullaby you use to sing him to sleep. He walked over to your location and dropped the game on to the cold concrete as he saw you holding a little girl in your arms.
His crimson eyes widen as he stared at the exact copy of himself. There was no way, how could you not have told him?
“Let me guess you accidentally saw us and now you want to be with me again?!” You screamed at him but immediately stopped when you heard sniffling coming from the little girl in your arms.
“Hey, Hey its okay Sayori, mommy’s just a little angry that’s all, im sorry for screaming.” You say as your run your fingers through her hair.
“Please...just...can i not even look at her.....” You could hear it, the pain in his voice. The tiniest part inside you begging you to give him another chance but the realization of having to protect your daughter over through your love for him.
“No. Shouldn’t have cheated. Not going to let my baby be in harms way because her father can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants.” You turn around and walk away leaving Shigaraki at the playground as you drove off.
Shigaraki felt his soul leave his body as his knees gave out. He started to sob uncontrollably. The once dormant flashbacks of your heartbroken face now replayed in his mind once again. 
Hiccuping as his sobs became much more inaudible. He felt like shit, the thought of his turning up like his father blew his mind as it only added to the pain. Images of what could have been a happy family replay in his head as he could just imagine a world where he has you by his side and his daughter in his arms.
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starkidpotty ¡ 4 years ago
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Should’ve Known Better [GW]
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After the Second Wizarding War, the wizarding world faces a great recession that puts you and George in financially and morally compromising situations.
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: swearing and terrible use of tenses (im sorry for the grammar)
A/N: written for angst prompt #14 for @kalimagik​‘s 1.3k writing challenge!! congrats on 1.3k again!! <3 
You had always been good–exceptional, actually–at writing since your teenage years. Essays you’ve written for work assigned by Professor Flitwick managed you top marks. Hell, even Snape commended your writing from time to time (if he wasn’t too busy taking away points from Gryffindor.) Throughout your years at Hogwarts, you entered multiple wizarding writing competitions and won them all. It made sense to you to seek out a job at the Daily Prophet after graduating from Hogwarts to put those writing skills  to good use. 
Your first year at the Daily Prophet was difficult, to say the least. You were paid almost next to nothing and writing on an empty stomach while worrying if you had enough galleons to pay rent was terrible for your creative process. On top of that, it seems as though whatever piece you made never satisfied your boss, Angel Hornbeam, editor of the Tragedies and Mishaps section of the paper. Each piece you wrote was either sent back with red ink splattered across the parchment with scathing comments on how sophomoric & crass your writing was or outright discarded. You didn’t know what Angel hated more: you or your writing. 
There you were walking down Diagon Alley after a grueling day at work. You made two pieces today–only two pieces–that were immediately thrown out to the rejection pile at the corner of Angel’s office. Roan Staghart, a colleague of yours, accidentally spilled pumpkin juice all over you which Angel pointed out and subsequently prompted her to give you a long-winded lecture on how unbecoming it was to sport such an unprofessional appearance in a place of work. You made your way down Diagon Alley with your path only being illuminated by the lights in the shops you passed.  You were downtrodden and hungry and lonely and unmotivated and uninspired. You thought about the eviction notice plastered to your flat’s door that you received earlier that day before heading off to work. You thought about the empty pantry in said flat, which then reminded you of your empty wallet. Lost in thought and not looking directly straight ahead, you ram your head straight into the open door of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Your arse lands on the cobblestoned path and you’re clutching your bleeding nose with your right hand, while your left provides support. 
“Merlin, I’m sorry!” says one of the Weasley twins as he hurriedly walks toward you. 
“Georgie, go get her some ice.” says the twin to the other behind him, still clutching the door open. 
“Fred, right? Sorry, I’m shite at telling you and your brother apart.” You say while letting out a humourless chuckle, wincing in pain as you clutch your nose. Fred crouches down to your level.
“S’alright, just know I’m the better looking one.” He pauses, “You’re [Y/N], you were in [Hogwarts House], correct? I remember you selling a pre-written essay  to Lee in our fourth year. T’was the only he got an O for, if I recall.” says Fred with a joking grin. George runs back with ice wrapped in a handkerchief which he passes to Fred, which Fred passes to you. 
“Had to make money to buy butterbeer at Hogsmeade somehow.” You answer him as you bring the wrapped ice to your nose. Both the brothers smile at you and you smile back. 
“Fred and I were actually headed off to dinner at our flat, join us. I suppose it’s the least we could do after the damage we’ve inflicted onto your poor nose.” George proposes. 
“I couldn’t impose–” 
“Nonsense!” They say in unison. Fred offers you a hand, which you graciously take. He pulls you up and you walk with them to their flat.  
You were now at the Weasley twins’ shared flat at the edge of Diagon Alley. It was the best meal you’ve had in weeks, not to mention the twins’ presence was a morale booster in itself. Dinner lasted an hour, but the conversations after lasted well into the night. You wondered why you weren’t friends with the twins during their school years. Perhaps if you detached your hand from your favorite quill and parchment, you would have been. Regardless, that night sparked a friendship. 
You were stopping by the shop on your way home from work on the daily and the twins enjoyed your presence so much so they offered you a small, part-time job as a stock keeper as a means to keep yourself afloat while your work your way up the Daily Prophet ladder. They’d come to visit you in their spare time at your dinky flat  on the border of Knockturn and Diagon alley. As hard as your first year at the Daily was, your newfound friendship with Fred and George made it all the worthwhile. While you and Fred remained friends, you and George had begun to engage in a shameless “flirtationship” as you coined–always dancing on the border of friends and being more than friends. Stealing kisses in the shop, holding hands underneath dinner tables, George reasoning out to Fred that you needed help at your flat only for him to spend the night, writing little notes for George before he left in the morning. Everyone around you knew you and George were it, as much as you and he tried to suppress it. One day, George decided to make it real and official.  
Your personal life had improved immensely after your horrendous first year as a journalist. You were dating George Weasley, your pantry was always full now, and you didn’t have to worry about getting evicted anymore. Your work life wasn’t as terrible as before as Angel Hornbeam turned over a new leaf and was much more forgiving at work. You were finally given a small promotion–not a choice Angel made, but by a higher-up as you stayed loyal to the good of the wizarding world–which offered you enough stability to leave the shop. 
The wizarding world at this point in time, however, was not improving. Death eaters infiltrated the ministry and your beloved Hogwarts. They started censoring pieces at the Daily Prophet, much to your chagrin. You couldn’t write or report about tragedies happening as the Death Eaters wanted the media to depict dark wizards as righteous and justify their actions. You moved over to making crossword puzzles for the paper as opposed to spewing lies about Lord Voldemort and his mission to take over the wizarding world. Fred and George had to close down shop for the time being as the Weasleys went into hiding.
Then the Battle of Hogwarts happened. You fought alongside Fred and George, casting spells and charms. Blasting death eaters left and right. You did everything you could to fight against the Death Eaters. But you couldn’t save Fred, nor could George. George was never the same after Fred’s death and neither were you. You were both deeply resigned to grieving and still continue to do so everyday. The sun still rose and set like it always did, but Fred was gone and the world just kept spinning. It left you and George no time to breathe. 
The wizarding world slowly built itself back up after the war, with Kingsley Shacklebolt acting as the Minister for Magic. He’d done a bloody good job of it. He purged out the dark wizards from the ministry and from the Daily Prophet, effectively returning most things back to normal. You were back to writing in the Tragedies and Mishap department, but the wizarding world hit a great recession after the war. People were losing jobs left and right; you knew for a fact that your neck was next on the chopping board if you didn’t come up with a good piece soon. Though George was slowly reopening the shop, with the help of his family, it wasn’t enough to keep you and he afloat. Losing this job would bring your right back to where you were your first year out of Hogwarts and you were determined to avoid that. 
--
It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon, two hours to the end of the work week. You haven’t written anything substantial in a while and your desk was evidence. The brown wood was stained with droplets of stray ink from your quill, but they weren’t as obvious because of the crumpled pieces of ripped parchment scattered across the desk. Your hand was ink-stained and your hair was in disarray. To say the least, you looked a mess. 
“[Y/N], I need you in my office,” Angel called out to you, peering out of her office door. 
You stood up, straightening out your top, trying to look as presentable as possible. Walking over to her office catches the attention of your many officemates. Your stomach begins to feel like a vacuum, sucking in all the air around you, ineffectively trying to get you to breathe. Were your fears getting realized? Was this it for your writing career? So many thoughts raced in your head as you walked–slogged, rather–the distance from your desk to Angel’s office. You reach the archway of her door and she instructs you to close it. You gulp heavily. 
“Yes, Angel? Anything I could do for you?” You anxiously choke out. You feel like your guts are about to unceremoniously find its way out your mouth and onto her office floor. 
Her office was decorated all in black, from her quills to her velvet wallpaper. Angel stood out in the gloomy decor of her office, sporting an all-white outfit. She says it’s a metaphor–tragedies are both light and dark, simultaneously and she wants to embody that. A little pretentious, but she’s right nonetheless. 
“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not going to fire you, darling.” Darling, a term of endearment, but never when it came from Angel’s lips. “I’m close, but I won’t. I have a proposition” 
You look at her intently, your eyes almost bulging. 
“I want an editorial piece on grief and love. I want romance wrapped in despair, topped with angst.” Angel mused. 
“I beg your pardon?” You muster out.
“Write about lost love, the war did just happen–it’ll be fresh, uncut,” Angel pauses for dramatic effect, “Absolutely raw.” She clenches her fist in such a theatrical manner, it's almost comical. 
You stay silent, unsure of what to say or do. Your face must’ve looked bewildered, as she slouches and rolls her eyes. 
“Godric, I want you to interview someone who lost the love of their life because of the war, so to speak. It’ll do wonders for readership. Have you read that muggle story–Romeo and Juliet? Love and tragedy create such a spicy little mix.” She says in response to your look. 
“Wouldn’t that be exploitative, no? Everyone’s still grieving.” You question Angel. 
“That’s journalism.” Angel’s brows are furrowed and you can tell she’s trying to control her temper. “I better have a damn well-written editorial on my desk come Monday morning. May I remind you, you are the last of your colleagues to have either been promoted up or let go. Do you want to be the latter?” 
You gulp, she hasn’t threatened you since your first year at the office. You shakily let out a soft no. She returns with a softly-said good and points you to the direction of her door. 
--
You were on your way home to you and George’s shared flat in Diagon Alley. Your mind was raking itself for who you could possibly call to satisfy Angel’s wants. The gears were grinding hard until you had the aha moment–Angelina. Her and Fred’s relationship was complicated to say the least. They weren’t friends but they weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but they didn’t want to see other people. You could no longer recall what they were and with Fred gone, the answer didn’t seem to matter anymore. The “almost” aspect of the relationship would provide the angst–unfinished business, if you will. Fred’s death and the love that could’ve been. You lit up at the ideas forming in your head, but you feel your conscience gnawing at you. However, you and George had to keep the lights on somehow. 
George had beaten you home that night and was eating a packed dinner from Molly on your couch. You hang your bag on the rack next to the door, taking your coat off as well. You walk over to George, plotting your body next to him. Resting your head against his shoulder you say, “How was your day?” 
You each share quips about your days at work, leaving out Angel’s request entirely. A silence ensues and you find this to be the most opportune moment to ask him. 
“D’you mind having Angelina over tomorrow? A light catch-up? Haven’t seen her since, well, y’know when.” You ask George. His face stiffens. 
“Alright, would be good to see an old friend, yeah?” He manages to say. He gets up to write an owl to Angelina. He sends the owl off and within the hour, Angelina’s response comes back. She agrees. 
-- 
It’s the day of your interview-not-interview with Angelina. You are in the bathroom getting ready while George waits by the door for Angelina. Your self-writing quill for note taking and its accompanying notebook are hidden in a cupboard at the corner of the kitchen that could not be seen from the dining room, ready to start writing at your will. 
“Love, Angelina’s here!” George says through the bathroom door. You quickly get out, rounding the corner to get to the living room and see Angelina sat on your sofa. You bring her in for a hug which she happily returns, you feel the guilt creep up again. You try and dismiss the feeling as hard as you can but it lingers like an unwanted guest. Trying to ease your nerves, you invite her to the dining room, where food you cooked in the morning lay waiting. 
Angeline told stories about her life as a bigtime Quidditch match commentator and you entertained her with stories from the Sports department. You were both marveling at how much time has changed things since your graduation from Hogwarts to the war to life now. Now’s a good a time as any, your mind reasons out. You muster what little courage you had and shift the topic over to Fred. 
“So, Angelina, how have you been holding up, since the battle?” You ask her. George looks at you strangely, as he notes the shift and tone in your voice. 
“Uh, well I’m here. Coping. Grieving.” She responds.
“We’re here for you, tell us more.” You say, trying to probe more information out of her. A slimy feeling makes itself known in the insides of your stomach and you try your hardest to ignore it. 
Angelina stays silent and then starts, “It’s been rough, Fred–” The winning ticket. 
“What about Fred? It was a bit complicated before he died.” Cutting her off, you were siphoning as much information as you can. 
“Yes, it was. You know that.” Angelina deflected, but she continued. “I wish there was more time. More time with him.” Her voice grew heavy, but you tried to turn up the pressure.
“Tell me, what would you have done with that time? Were there things you would’ve said? Done?” 
Angelina takes an ugly pause. 
“Well?” You don’t mean to say this in such a crass and impatient manner, but you do.  
At this point, George stands up. He gets uncomfortable and goes to the cupboard to fetch himself a glass of water. As he inches to the cupboard, he hears scratching noises like a quill writing on parchment. He knows exactly what you’re doing now. Opening the cupboard he sees your quill and notebook scribbling away. On the pad is written, “‘A love lost, an almost,’ says Angelina as she begins to tell me about what could’ve been had Fred avoided his untimely death…” George stopped reading. It clicks in George’s head now. It explains the sudden decision to send an owl over to her last night. George’s jaw tenses up. 
He grabs a glass, closing the cupboard, while leaving the quill and notebook in there. He heads to the front of the refrigerator where you’d be unable to see him. It gives him time to rethink his next move while calming down. He knew journalism would be gross, but he didn’t think you’d prey on your friends–especially since you knew how everyone was still mourning the loss of his twin brother. 
Angelina begins to cry from the other room, but you continue to hound her with questions. “What would you be doing now if Fred were still around? Do you still dream of a life with him? What else have you been doing to fill the space? Do you wish there was more you could’ve done?” The words were practically marathoning out your mouth. The guilt in you subsides and all you feel now is a desire to get the truth out of Angelina. It’s as though you were watching this unfold from the corner of the room; it wasn’t you shoving questions down Angelina’s throat, but an entirely different entity. 
“Merlin, will you stop!” Angelina boomed. “I’m leaving. I missed you and George, I really did. But, how dare you. We’re all grieving and if this is your sick at attempt at therapy, I’ve damn near had it.” 
You’re silent and you feel yourself float back to your body, sat in front of a tearful and red-faced Angelina. She angrily gets up, dropping her fork onto the table. She makes a beeline for the coat rack, grabbing her things, and leaves–making sure to slam the door. 
“What the fuck was that, [Y/N]?” George shot at you, as he emerged from the kitchen. He was holding his glass of water with his fingers by the brim, both his arms by his side. The expression plastered on his face was a mixture between disappointed, frustration, and anger. You stay silent. 
“Answer me, what was that?” George repeats again. You still stay silent, you don’t know how to answer him. “Were you trying to make a piece out of Angelina?” 
You look down at your lap repentantly. “Angel said she’d fire me if I didn’t.”
George makes his way over to you, placing his glass on the dining room table. He doesn’t take a seat, instead he looks down at you in anger. 
“She’s our friend. She’s grieving, mourning–like you and me fucking both.” George was fuming, “You were being a prick and I didn’t like it, obviously neither did Angelina. I could say more, but out of respect, I won’t.” 
“George, we have to eat one way or another. I didn’t want to lose any more income than we already had!” You tried very hard to justify your reasons as to why. 
“At expense of a good friend of ours? Merlin, [Y/N].” George rebutted. “I can’t even look at you right now. I know you love writing, I do. I love your writing, in fact. But, this is low. All for what? A few fucking galleons? Merlin.” 
George turns his heel and stomps to the door, grabbing his coat and slamming the door shut in one swift motion. He presumably chases after Angelina to apologize on your behalf. You hang your head, trying to recollect yourself, and think about what to say to Angelina and George. 
You decide right then and there that you were going to quit your job at the Daily Prophet–there was always a need for writers in the Wizarding World anyway and jobs of that sort were probably not as exploitative in nature. Deciding to write a Letter of Resignation later that night, you trudge your way to the door, grab your coat, and run after George. 
--
masterlist here
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beomglocks ¡ 4 years ago
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colors ; k.th
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part of the badlands series!
colors: “you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece.”
based off halsey’s badlands album.
warnings and other: museum curator!taehyun, old money!y/n, mentions of depression and grass smoking, little bit of angst i guess??
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taehyun sighed as he took down the 11th painting this week. the museum hadn't been very busy in the past couple of weeks, maybe because the weather was getting colder. one part of him figured that many people just wanted to be bundled up at home watching holiday themed movies and drinking warm drinks rather than appreciating enchanting artworks.
he couldn't fool himself though, he knew the truth. today's generation didn't care about the fine arts anymore. a shame, seeing as everything around them seemed to be inspired by it.
kang taehyun worked at his local museum. he had been offered the position by the owner one night while roaming the place. this should've been a red flag looking back. the owner seemed desperate for someone to fill in the position since the previous employee had left without notice. nonetheless, taehyun took the job and didn't regret it one bit.
open 24/7, the red haired boy was always working on the clock. not that there was much to do seeing as most of the people his age or even a bit older didn't hang around museums purely for the joy of it. actually, his only job was to exhibit the newly arrived collections, clean and dust them off, and conduct regular tours and workshops for the public. due to this and the fact that not many people even came by he would take regular breaks.
once in a while you'd see the occasional old person or art expertee roaming around the small museum. if you were lucky, you'd see the local edgy teens posing next to a piece they didn't understand just to get an aesthetic picture. taehyun would also have the unfortunate job of shooing them away or scolding them for getting just a bit too close.
recently his boss, who was the museum manager and maybe the only other person besides taehyun that worked there, had informed him that due to funds and unfortunate unforeseen events, the museum would be closing down in about a month from now. this caused taehyun to fall deep into a depression since this was his only job and he loved it here. the museum was like his second home. he found comfort in the silent images displayed throughout the building. they always told him a story and when new pieces came in he would sit and stare attentively at the new anecdote being told to him.
taehyun smiled sadly at the piece he had just taken down. it was a painting of 2 people kissing however both of their faces were covered by white cloths. this was his favorite and he didn't even have a clue as to why. probably because of the uncertainty of what the other was feeling or because of the fact that the other couldn't see each other's faces through the cloth, that would've made the kiss more exciting in his opinion.
he stepped out of the museum and into the frosty air of the outside world. it was only autumn so why was it so cold? he thought to himself. he discreetly pulled out a prerolled blunt and his white lighter from his pocket. he lit it and stuck in between his slightly chapped lips.
maybe smoking dope wasn't the healthiest thing in the world, especially for a boy so young, barely 19, but it helped taehyun get his mind off the inevitably of losing his job and being homeless for the winter. he shuttered at the thought. he would have to room with one of his friends, he sighed shaking his head. no, he didn't want to be a burden, yeonjun had helped him enough as it is.
he looked at his surroundings taking in the cold autumn afternoon. the trees had long lost their leaves and were bare. the sky was a murky gray color as if it were threatening to rain any time soon. he noticed a girl bundled up in winter clothes near the entrance of the building glance at him. he smiled at her and she jumped at the eye contact, thinking that he wouldn't catch her. taehyun chuckled as he watched her rush into the museum. "back to work," he said out loud to himself.
once the blunt had been almost gone, he smoked what was left of it and headed back into the empty museum. he was feeling light-headed, the effects of the blunt finally taking action, but taehyun was used to it so it barely affected him as much.
he made his way to the girl who was now starting to take off her jacket and scarf. taehyun tapped on the girl's shoulder to get her attention. "hi," he smiled at the girl, showing off his dazzling smile. "if you'd like, i could give you a tour of the museum." well what's left of it anyways, he thought to himself.
"oh...no thank you," said the girl. she smiled warmly at the worker. "well not to be invasive of your decision but it's sort of in my job description," taehyun replied as he rubbed the back of his neck. the girl sighed in defeat, "i guess i have no choice then."
taehyun laughed as he took her coat and scarf to hang up in the public closet, "yep, trust me. they say im not that bad of a tour guide, im quite fun to be around if i do say so myself. i promise not to bore you too much." the girl nodded, not entirely convinced. "if i do end up bored i will hold you accountable..." she took a moment to take a peek at taehyun's name tag, "kang taehyun," she joked.
as they walked through the museum the girl couldn't help but notice that it was fairly empty. "why are there almost no paintings in here?" she laughed hesitantly. "i thought this was a museum?" taehyun stopped walking, turning to her with a sad expression on his face.
"the museum is expected to close in about a month or so," he stated simply. "oh...that's terrible. may i ask why?" the girl responded. "my boss says we've run out of funds or something like that," taehyun chuckled bitterly. "people don't really give a shit about good art these days anyways."
"that's a shame..."
they continued to look through the various paintings that were still up and occasionally the girl would ask to see the ones that were taken down and left on the floor. it seemed the two were lost in each other's company as night started to approach.
"thank you for the tour of this lovely museum taehyun. it was fun but it's a shame such a nice museum like this is closing down," the girl said softly. taehyun nodded solemnly, he just wanted to get this day over with and crash at his apartment. he didn't blame the girl before him but talking to her reminded him of his harsh reality. a notification coming from the girl's bag made both of them jump as they were both lost in their thoughts.
"ah, that must be my father. he's kind of annoying when it comes to my curfew," she chuckled, digging her phone from her bag. taehyun watched her with a bored expression until his eyes reached her bag. he hadn't noticed this earlier but she had been carrying a louis vuitton bag. his eyes bulged at the expensive item that was so close to him, they got even larger when she fished out the latest iphone from it.
taehyun wasn't poor per se, he had just enough to get by since he was living paycheck to paycheck. however, he had never been in such close proximity to any luxury items. he suddenly felt weird being this close to this girl.
"what do you mean by curfew?" taehyun asks hesitantly. the girl sighs, "my father is one of south korea's richest chaebol's, maybe one of the big three at his point." she rolled her eyes as if this information was nothing. "he's super strict with me because i guess i'm just his show pony daughter whom he can show off to say he's a good father."
taehyun gulped, had he just been casually hanging out with the daughter of one of the richest men in korea? he felt sick at this. she looked up at taehyun's uneasy expression, "oh my god im sorry i just dumped that all on you! i just needed to catch a break so i came here, i didn't mean to drag you into my life story."
taehyun fixes his face, laughing nervously, "no- no its fine really. we all need a break sometimes right? im glad you got to have that time here." the girl smiled up at him, completely misreading his nervous laughter, "im glad i got to spend it here with you taehyun."
"oh before i go!" taehyun watched her pull out a checkbook from her bag and his stomach dropped. he silently watched her scribble some stuff onto the slip and tear it out, handing it to him.
"there's not too much i can take out of my account without my father flipping out but i hope this helps even just a little. whether it be in your personal life or with the museum."
taehyun eyes the check and chokes when he sees 50,000 dollars written neatly on the black line. he swears he can feel sweat going down his face like in the cartoons. "i- i cant possibly take this from you." he moves to hand the check back but the girl refuses to take it back. "taehyun, you love this museum with your entire being. i see the way to look at the paintings and the passion with which you explained them to me. i'd hate to see that taken away."
"plus, if you're gone who's gonna give me the tour when i come back?" she laughs as if this is something casual. taehyun's hands shake as he pockets the check, "i seriously cannot thank you enough...you don't know how much you just helped the museum and m-"
the girls phone dings again and she grumbles, "ugh why can't he just leave me alone. sorry but i think i really gotta go for real before he tracks my location or something crazy like that."
taehyun nods wistfully at the mention of her having to leave. he was really starting to enjoy her company.
"oh by the way," the girl giggles as she pulls her coat on hurriedly.  "was that you smoking weed at the corner of the museum earlier?" the girl chuckled to herself again just remembering it. taehyun furrowed his eyebrows, "why would you say that kind of thing at out loud and at my job?!" he scolded in a playful hushed voice.
"i just thought it was funny and you also smelled of weed the entire tour, i didn't mind though so don't worry," the girl concluded. she was starting to walk away towards out the door now. "i'll walk you out," taehyun offers. "such a helpful employee. is this in the job description too?" the girl jokes, turning to him while a smile on her lips. "well, not exactly," taehyun says smoothly.
she shakes her head, "i'll see you soon taehyun." he watches her walk off into the darkness of the night when he suddenly remembers something.
"hey what's your name by the way?" he shouts after the girl. for some reason taehyun really was hopeful of seeing her again.
"y/n!" came the disembodied voice of the girl he had just met.
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maldito-arbol ¡ 4 years ago
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Let’s talk about the GP zodiacs (Part 2)
HOLSY HSIT I LOVE THE GP KIDS SO MUCH AND THEIR SIGNS ARE SO INTERESTING
Thank u to puff-poff for shooting me with an ask about the gp kids, I think our brains just assimilated
One more note: I should’ve mentioned this in my last post but compatibility between signs doesn’t only apply to romantic relationships, it applies to any kind of relationship like friendships, family relations, etc. It’s just that when it comes to more platonic relationships, wholly incompatible signs are more likely to be able to work something out together. As an example, I’m a Gemini, and I’m about 300% certain I could never ever in my life date a Pisces, but I do have a few Pisces friends that I get along well enough with.
Okay same drill—sign, element, infodump, GO
Violet
Birthdate: June 12th
Sign: Gemini
Element: Air
Overview: SQUEALS GUYS ITS VIOLET MY BELOVED. WE’RE BOTH GEMINIS THEREFORE WE ARE THE SAME PERSON. I’m kidding but no, Violet being a Gemini makes her 100x easier to project onto. So I mentioned before that Air signs are the least in tune with their emotions, are the thinkers before they act, are horribly indecisive, and these very much apply to Geminis as well. However, the most iconic trait of a Gemini is the ability to switch personalities at the drop of a hat whenever it services the group of people they’re in—what most people call the ‘two-faced’ part of Geminis. Hey, I promise you that being two-faced is actually a pretty cool and useful asset when in the hands of a decent human being. It means we get along well with a lot of different people, and if we don’t, we can act like we do as if it’s nothing. This asset, however, can turn into a curse of sorts in that a lot of us have...NO IDEA what our actual personality is. We reshape and remold ourselves and copy traits from other signs to fit in so much that we lose sight of who we are as an individual, and therefore we have a very hard time figuring out what we truly want. This is where the indecisiveness comes into play—ask a Gemini what they want for lunch and you’ll get a “what? Huh? Oh, you pick. I’m fine with whatever.” I know Geminis best because I am one, pls forgive me for rambling so much more about them than the other signssss.
Okay so first of all, let’s talk about Violet adapting to other characters to ‘fit in’. It’s not as obvious because Violet DOES seem to have one very fixed personality, but Violet prefers to speak through actions rather than words, so I would call her following Emma to help the children at GP a Gemini move. She could’ve simply dragged her to Lucas—she’s probably strong enough to do so, but instead she decided to go along with her. This isn’t to say there’s no pushback of course, as Air signs Geminis aren’t idiots, so they’ll often try to reason with others (particularly fire signs cough cough) to try to bring logic and critical thinking into the conversation. However, when that fails, they can still be counted on to support their friends even if they disagree. This is why Geminis and Leos are soulmates you heard it here, the stars said Violemma is the way. BUT ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW VIOLET’S THE ONE ADAM LISTENS TO DURING THE LEUVIS BATTLE. YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT BEING ABLE TO GET ALONG WITH A LOT OF PEOPLE, THERE YOU GO.
Anyway it’s also very much worth noting that while Violet can seem very harsh at times (bc Geminis will put you in your PLACE), bringing her logical kind of advice into conversations can be a very helpful comforter.
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On another note this scene is so gay?
Compatibility and ships: hellooooooo Air sign Violet you are compatible with other Air signs (Aquarius, Libra, and Gemini) as well as Fire signs (Leo, Sagittarius, and Aries). Usually you’ll see Aquarius and Sagittarius as the most compatible with Geminis but I disagree with that because I have never met a Sagittarius I like so I’m still pointing fervently at Leos and the fact that Emma is a Leo. Listen. Violemma is the way. I am determined to convert all of you to Violemma if it’s the last thing I do. Geminis simply cannot help themselves around Leos they fall like a fucking anvil for that bright, golden-hearted dumbass energy. If there’s any Leos in the tpn fandom let me know I might just propose to you.
Oliver
Birthdate: October 25th
Sign: Scorpio
Element: Water
Overview: the first time I looked up Oliver’s birthday I went “Scorpio???? REALLY????” but then this is another case where the more I think about it, it does indeed make sense. If Leos are the natural leaders of the Fire signs, then Scorpios are the natural leaders of the Water signs. Where Cancers and Pisces will often lose themselves to their emotions, Scorpios have a very strong handle on them. I mentioned before that Water signs are at the highest emotional level, but Scorpios are a bit of an interesting case because you oftentimes won’t even notice that they’re very emotional people. They try to act like Air signs in that way, but their true colors are always there, waiting to be coaxed out.
For Oliver, you can clearly tell that his emotional bond with his friends and especially with Lucas is very high—but even so, he doesn’t let his emotions cloud his judgment or his ability to adapt to the situation at hand. Where earth signs are very fixed and difficult to move, water signs are always moving and changing to find solutions best suited for new circumstances. The best example I can give is the part where the music plays early, and despite internally panicking about it, Oliver is the one who naturally steps up to calm everyone down.
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Scorpios are great at handling others’ emotions as well as their own, which makes them marvelously empathetic leaders. We stan.
Compatibility and ships: as a Water sign, Oliver is compatible with other Water signs (Cancer, Pisces, and Scorpio) as well as Earth signs (Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn) so speaking broadly that makes him compatible with Pepe (a Pisces) and Zack (a Cancer) but narrowing it down, Scorpios are usually best with Tauruses and Cancers. Idk if I’m the only one who ships Oliver with Pepe but I know there’s a few people who ship him with Zack—so congrats to you guys, you won the stars’ approval.
Lucas
Birthdate: November 28th
Sign: Sagittarius
Element: Fire
Overview: yall,,,, when I found out Lucas was a Saggy Titty I legitimately guffawed out loud. Lucas and Sagittarius is so funny.... because it’s so wrong. Saggy Titties are the definition of chaos, they’re brazen, impulsive, and constantly changing. Like think of a frat boy in a house full of beer and pool tables and hot girls and you get Sagittarius. This is why I have never met a Sagittarius I like—because they have frat boy energy, and even non-male Sagittariuses require wayyy too much energy for me to handle. I guess the only time Lucas really does act like a Sagittarius is in his childhood with Yuugo, and the way he’s a lot bolder and outgoing versus the quieter older Lucas we have now.
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It is important to note that Lucas has been through a lot of trauma and lost a lot of comrades which could very well change the a person’s entire outlook and turn their personality 180 degrees—that could be a large factor, although on the flip side, Yuugo still fits his Capricorn sign even after going through what he’s been through. Different events affect different people differently. Lucas was most likely knocked entirely off his Sagittarius high-horse very quickly when he arrived in Goldy Pond. But if I had no prior knowledge of who he was beforehand, I very well might’ve pegged him a Leo like Emma or even another subtle Aries like Norman. So yes, he does indeed have fire energy, it’s just generally very lackluster and farrrr away from Sagittarius’ level.
Compatibility and ships: okay so I know the only Lucas ship with any weight to it in this fandom is Yuucas, and here’s the thing,,, A Sagittarius and Capricorn combo is the most horrifying fucking couple imaginable and I’m stan so hard. Realistically speaking, your Capricorns would try to put a leash on their Sagittariuses because man. I forgot to mention how childish Sagittariuses can be (though the frat boy comparison should’ve been a clue), and holy shit that poor Capricorn is gonna get ripped to shreds by their Sagittarius. Imagine like a super pompous cowboy trying to ride a furious bull that’s trying to buck him off like there’s no tomorrow. Capricorns are people who want complete control over themselves and their partners, while Sagittariuses,, Saggy Titties just want to see the world burn. Put them together and you could probably cause the End Times Apocalypse. But you know what? Good for them. I think Yuugo and Lucas love each other enough that the toxicity that comes with typical pairups with these two signs is about nonexistent between them. But I fully believe they could still destroy an entire planet and that’s valid of them to do so. Anyway moving on!
you wanna talk about another Sagittarius that makes absolutely no sense?
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Paula
Birthdate: December 9th
Sign: Sagittarius
Element: Fire
Overview: My authors I am begging you, stop putting character birthdays in the Sagittarius zone you clearly don’t know what a Sagittarius is.
Since I refuse to acknowledge Paula as a Sagittarius, let’s talk about what sign she actually acts like because I said so. Paula’s a Virgo. Fight me Shirai. (Also im sus that shirai is virgophobic because where the fuck are my virgos. There’s like zero major characters that are virgos, and the characters that ARE don’t even act like virgos. I’m coming for your small intestine Shirai) so as earth signs, virgos are generally pretty resourceful and of course level-headed. They’re kinda shy and reserved, but they’re also very hard workers you can count on when you need to get a job done. Nary will you find a Virgo that procrastinates or attempts to weasel their way out of a mission they’ve been given. The unmovable earth in virgos shows through in how committed they are, and we can see all these traits in Paula. Though she’s a quieter member of the GP resistance, you can tell just how much of an asset she is to them. She doesn’t run, doesn’t lose her cool, and she’s good at pointing out important details.
Pls let me decide your characters’ birthdays for you Shirai I promise I am good at it.
Compatibility and ships: I guess, astrologically speaking, as a Sagittarius, Paula does fit pretty well with Sonya because she’s a Gemini. I actually know next to nothing about Paula ships but I do know she’s lesbian and her and Sonya are cute but I also ship her with Barbara because reasons don’t ask questions I WILL bite you anyway they’re compatible too because barb’s also a Gemini.
Lot of Geminis, don’t you think? Yes I do. Let’s talk about them.
Sonya and Sandy
Birthdates: June 3rd and May 22nd respectively
Signs: Gemini
Element: Air
Overview: these two are what I call the gemini twins bECAUSE THEYRE ALWAYS HANGING OUT AND ITS SO TRUE GEMINIS LOVE EACH OTHER BUT ALSO ITS SO WEIRD THAT WE GET ALONG. imagine like two of those one way mirrors facing each other where it just goes on and on and on for infinite mirror and that’s what two Geminis hanging out is like. Look, they’re literally thinking the same thing and it’s so great
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Anyway there isn’t a whole lot of Sandy and Sonya content to go off of in the first place, but them being Geminis seems reasonable to me—at the very least they are indeed meant to get along well and they’re so in sync I could cry. Plus they’re pretty intuitive and able to think right on the spot as they’re facing Nous and Nouma (at least at first) My man Shirai also.. really likes Geminis for some reason because they keep popping up. So instead of one Spider-Man meme it looks more like this,
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Compatibility and ships: not gonna dwell too long on this section because from previous ones you may already recall they’re compatible with each other and I guess with Paula as well as I must begrudgingly accept the fact that shes canonically a Sagittarius.
Pepe
Birthdate: February 19th
Sign: Pisces
Element: Water
Overview: so I mentioned before that water signs are at about the highest emotion level, which makes Pisces a very sensitive group like Cancers. But Pisces in general are known for being the kindest and most accepting people as well, which means they’re able to make a lot of friends very easily. They’re basically that one person you sat next to in class who started a conversation with you just to be nice. Now again, there’s not a whole lot of Pepe content to go off of, but we can tell he’s kind and loving to his friends and the other kids in GP. One thing I can mention is that Pisces usually are the one of the nosiest of the signs, and they get very bothered by lies and secrets (this is true for a lot of water signs, but Pisces are the worst in my experience) so we got this single piece that may have a little bit of the Pisces in Pepe showing:
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Compatibility and ships: So as a Pisces, Pepe is only compatible with Oliver and Zack considering they’re also water signs. Everyone else is Fire and Air, funnily enough, but the Pepe ships with those two are super cute I think so it’s ok.
Zack
Birthdate: July 7th
Sign: Cancer
Element: Water
Overview: so do I think Zack fits his sign? Yes, in a way I do. I already went into Cancers when I explained Don, so quick recap: Cancers are some of the most sensitive and empathetic, so their loyalty to their loved ones is pretty close to on-par with an Aries. And while Zack isn’t as outwardly emotional as someone like Don, the Cancer in him shows up well in that he’s constantly taking extremely difficult missions he doesn’t want his friends to risk, and he shrugs off any injury to himself.
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This might just be a me thing but almost every Cancer I’ve met has a habit of doing That. I am so concerned for their safety. I guess though, if I hadn’t known his sign beforehand, I 100% would’ve pegged him an Aries.
Compatibility and ships: I already went over this with Pepe, but Zack is compatible with Pepe and Oliver. Y’all ok listen to me. OT3. Make it happen. Between them they have every sign in the element of water. They’d be unstoppable.
Gillian
Birthdate: September 30th
Sign: Libra
Element: Air
Overview: here’s a fun one. So as I previously stated, air signs are usually out of tune with their emotions, but where that causes Aquariuses and Geminis to repress or hide them, Libras,,,, just dump them everywhere. Listen I know Libras are supposed to be the sign of the balance scales and they have a thing about the world being perfectly balanced which makes them more prone to revenge bUT ALSO. MY first and foremost takeaway from Libras is that they all suffer from Rich Bitch syndrome, in which they obsess over material items and every Libra has a thing about cute girly stuff change my mind. HOWEVER, they’re often very chaotic as well, the kinda Sagittarius of the Air signs. So like a super cute and seemingly fun girl who will probably murder you in your sleep.
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I’m sorry I can’t take it I’ve been laughing at this for the past fifteen minutes it’s too funny. Anyway, Gillian’s Rich Bitch Syndrome appears through her fashion statement. Her PINS. omg. Gillian your Libra is showing.
Compatibility and ships: as a Libra Gillian is compatible with other Air signs (Aquarius, Gemini, Libra) as well as Fire signs (Aries, Sagittarius, Leo) but she’s most compatible with Aries and Sagittarius so—— Paula yes, but also Nigel because he’s an Aries! Speaking of Nigel,
Nigel
Birthdate: March 27th
Sign: Aries
Element: Fire
Overview: Aries Nigel doesn’t come as a surprise, let’s be real here. I delved into Aries before with Norman, so just as a recap: Aries are so intensely loyal to the ones they love and would do absolutely anything for them even at the cost of their lives, and this can make them prone to outbursts of anger and/or impulsivity. Here’s your one image of Aries Nigel, I don’t even have to explain:
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Compatibility and ships: so I already said this but Nigel is at his most compatible with Gillian. Are there other Nigel ships?? Pls let me know I’m very curious.
Aw, it’s over now :(
I loved talking about the GP kids they fill the void in my heart. Now to move onto talking about the demons because the silliest idiot requested it and I am beyond ecstatic to spout pure headcanon bullshit. If you’re feelin excited then feel free to keep sending characters my way I will be happy to ramble about their canon zodiac or my headcanon for their zodiac
Edit: i forgot to link part 1 to anyone who wants it and doesn’t want to stalk my profile to find it
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oyubaat-tapcaf ¡ 4 years ago
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Another Job Is Done //Mandalorian x Reader
Here is my first ever Mandalorian Fic, written for @propertyofdindjarin
(small remark, I used ur name so this is kind of Mando x reader but also not)
I am a huge star wars nerd so im happy you preferred a mando fic
Have fun reading!
summary: Din had a bad experience while hunting down a quarry, leaving him with his feelings clear.
wordcount: 2985
warnings: canon typical violence, kind of a near death experience, a little bit of angst but lots of fluff
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The ramp of the Razor Crest made a loud hissing noise when the hydraulics started to work on opening it. As the end of it reached the floor, the Mandalorian entered his ship. He seemed exhausted. He did not strut, as usual, his body language showed, this fight hadn’t been easy. He seemed like he even got hurt, more than usual. 
Mando grunted when he pulled the unconscious quarry up into his ship. He was in pain. This womprat he’d been hunting down was hard to catch and also a very good fighter. Well, not good enough. Din closed the ramp and hurled the quarry up into his carbonite chamber then he pressed the button to freeze him. Another job is done. Finally. 
He groaned quietly under his beskar helmet and let himself fall back against the wall. He wasn’t hurt badly but he was sore. He had been awake and going for a few days now, he needed food, water, and sleep. And maybe someone to hold onto. He was gone for a couple of long days and he was on edge. He liked being alone, but since he had the kid he realized how nice a little bit of company can be. He changed since he got the child that’s why this job was a little different. The job was a well-paying one. That was because the quarry was on a planet that was hard to get to. It was behind a big dangerous nebula. There were only a few people who were able to get to the other end alive and he was lucky that one of those people was willing to help him. His piloting was good but not good enough for the turbulence he might face in the nebula. Well for 50 percent of the bounty. That was a good deal. Even half of the money was enough for Din to buy food for him and his little friend, also to buy new fuel and new bullets for his pulse rifle since he was out of them.
The Mandalorian was too proud to admit it, he liked the pilot that was with him. She was a nice and beautiful young lady. She knew what she wanted and she got what she wanted. He remembers discussing the deal with her. She knew how to make a good deal, and she wasn’t intimidated by Din's appearance. Usually, people were acting different around him, some even being afraid of him. They heard the stories of Mandalore and its population. They heard of the strong beskar armor and Mandalorian combat skills. So Din usually gets what he wants. But that pilot...she wasn’t having it. 
“Look, I know you are an amazing hunter, but I’m just as good of a pilot, so that means we will split the bounty in half, no discussion needed,” she said while sipping away on her spotchka. Her eyes were challenging him, daring him to disagree with her.
“You will fly on my ship. And I will hunt down the quarry,” Din leaned forward looking straight into her eyes. “I don’t think 50/50 will work for me.”
She scoffed and shook her head. “My way or no way, Mando. You don’t know frag about that nebula. If you want to fly through it alone, do it. But lemme tell you even your beautiful beskar can’t save you. “
Din was a little angry at first but she then smiled at him, kind of mocking him but he was so lost in her beautiful face that he just sighed and jerked back as he caught himself staring. This helmet on his head was making his life easier.
The Mandalorian nodded and they shook hands. She wanted to invite him for a drink but he declined, as he always did. 
 Din sighed, back to his current situation. He and Rae had traveled a long time together, they got in some trouble with a few pirates and they had to shoot themselves out of it. They crashed on Teth and had to repair the Crest together, spending some nights sitting together and listening to the sounds coming from the jungle that was near, sharing some stories from their past. The child was always with them and the pilot got along with Din’s little friend. 
Even if this whole mission was kind of more than the Mandalorian signed up for, he enjoyed the company of the young pilot. When they finally arrived at the nebula Din realized why she wanted 50 percent of the money. She knew what she was doing, maneuvering the crest through the turbulences and clouds of gas. Maker, Din was lost, he had so many strong feelings about her and they all came crashing down on him while he was hunting down the quarry. He had tried to suppress his feelings for her. He didn’t even know what was going on. Stars, he never fell in love before, he was a loner. The youngling made him discover his soft side. At least under all that armor.
The quarry wasn’t easy to catch and Din nearly got into some bad trouble. His opponent nearly gained the upper hand at some point, leaving Din with an experience he can save into his album of “situations to avoid”. He had lost all his weapons except for his flame thrower and before he could even think of a way to get himself out of this situation, a strong cord had wrapped around his body leaving him unable to move his hands. He heard laugher, now knowing if it just was ringing in his ears from being hit so hard before, or if someone was laughing at him. The Mandalorian heard a vibroblade buzzing to life, he had opened his eyes to see his opponent, a nautolan, grinning, standing right in front of him.
“I’ve always wanted to kill a Mandalorian before.”
He stepped forward. Din tried to move but he realized, somehow the nautolan had wrapped up his whole body with cord, he couldn’t move his legs either, leaving him sitting on the floor and watching the nautolan stepping yet another step closer to him.
“I can even keep that amazing beskar to myself,” he murmured. He reached out with his hand, the blade touched the Mandalorians helmet with a metallic noise, ringing in Din’s ears. He was tense, still needed to collect himself, trying to seek his way out. He was a Mandalorian, he was raised his whole life with the knowledge that he will eventually die. It was nothing new to him, his whole life was living from day to day, not knowing how many of them are left for him. But right now he couldn’t accept that. There was this mission bigger than him and bigger than this quarry. The child. He needed the Mandalorians' help. He was his foundling, Din needed to come back to him. But there was even more. He had suddenly felt so lonely, kneeling on the floor, a vibroblade whirring right beside his head. The Beskar clad man was in love and nobody knew about it. He never had someone to kiss, to love. The pilot didn’t even know that Din was thinking about her, every damn minute, every day he woke up, hoping he would have the courage to tell her about his feelings for her. And he never did. 
The Mandalorian had snarled, this was not the end, he was not going to die like this. The adrenaline had shot up, into his system and Din had pushed his feet against the ground, falling forward with such force that he fell into his opponent. The nautolan had lost his balance and fell forward, the blade slipping out of his hand. Din caught it and cut himself loose, then he whirled around, jumped to his feet. He had kicked the green man right into his face with his boot, the nautolan had lost his consciousness immediately. 
That’s how he got the quarry back to his ship. Din was still trembling a little, after this experience, he was so happy to be back inside the Crest, back with his foundling and back with her. He groaned again and slipped down the wall, hitting the floor. His legs sprawled out, away from him he sat on the ground as a youngling would.
“Ni'm haryc”, he murmured to himself immediately feeling the exhaustion in his tired bones. 
***
You sat in the cockpit of the Crest, fiddling with your gloves and watching the child who was soundly asleep. You were nervous about the Mandalorian's return. He was acting differently around you since a few days ago and you were afraid that he was annoyed by you. His body language was always showing that he was nervous as if your company was something he was not used to and doesn't want to get used to. 
You sighed quietly and laid your beat-up gloves down. You really hoped that Mando was safe out there. You liked him more than you wanted to admit and him getting hurt on his daily adventures had you restless at night. Especially the last two days were hard. He was hunting down the quarry and you just had to wait for him. But hunting the quarry also meant flying back home and parting ways. You didn't want that to happen. You knew it was going to happen nevertheless but you felt the urge to kick something when you thought about leaving the Razor Crest and its amazing team. 
The Youngling was so cute and surprisingly good at keeping you company. You realized that you could even learn from him, in a way. 
And Mando, let's say it, you were into him. He was kind and polite, always trying to make your stay on the Crest comfortable. But you also liked his darker side that shot pirates and threw them off of his ship while it was in the air. He protected his family like he would protect his eyeball. 
You were ripped from your thoughts as you heard the hydraulic ramp slid down. Probably Mando, he was the only one besides you who had access to the Crests controls. Hopefully, it was him. You waited a few seconds. You heard steps and something hitting the wall. Then you heard the Carbonite chamber go off. Yep, it was Mando. He was back. 
"Kriff, finally," you whispered and got up from the pilot seat. The child was still asleep so you left him in his little pod. 
You slowly made your way down the ladder down to the cargo hold, as you reached the floor you saw the Mandalorian sitting on the floor, legs sprawled out like a child would seeming weak, exhausted, hurt. You were shocked at how weak he looked, you never saw him that way before. You looked at his muddy boots and his dirty armor, his cape was ripped apart and soaked in mud too. 
Mando looked like an injured Crayt Dragon, majestic but hurt, weak. Full of rage and fire but not able to use it anymore. He was panting his helmet leaned back against the wall, hands left weak beside his legs, his gloves also muddy. You started to panic. Is he okay?
“Are you okay, Mando?” you asked and made a step forward. Careful. 
He turned his head a little so his visor was facing you. 
“...No.” he pressed out. Even under that mud, his beskar was gleaming in the dim light of the Crests cargo hold. You were always kind of hypnotised by the way his armor reflected the lights. You knew that he knew it, he had caught you staring various times. But he had never mentioned it or called you out on it. It even seemed like he enjoyed it. You remember one time, as you were repairing his ship he caught you staring as he was welding some parts together and you were mesmerized at how beautiful the lightning bow was reflected by his beskar plates. He had turned around, looking at you stopping everything he was doing. 
You stared back right into his visor not being able to look away. He had tilted his head a little bit, so slowly as if he was grinning at you. You could only imagine but you knew he had a smug smirk going on under that damn helmet. You could just smirk back at him shrugging. 
He had chuckled, so softy, his shoulders shaking, just a little. Then he had turned back around and started welding again. 
“Kriff, Mando, what’s wrong, do you need help?” now really panicking as you got pulled back into reality.
“No,” he answered, again. 
Now you were just confused. What was wrong with him. He was acting weird and you didn’t know what to do. 
“What are you talking about…? I-” 
“Shhh.” he shushed you. “Don’t panic. I’m not hurt.” 
You relaxed a little, you weren’t very good at playing doctor and you knew that if Mando would get hurt bad, you wouldn’t be able to help him properly. Your shoulders dropped in relief.
“Maker, you were really scaring me. Don’t do that again Mando.” 
The Mandalorian chuckled. Him chuckling was very rare so you knew something was up. The last time you heard him chuckle was when he caught you staring.
“I am okay. I’m sorry for scaring you. I am kriffing sore.” he huffed, looking at his dirty boots and at the trail of mud he left on the floor. “I...I had a hard time. I- ...yeah.” he was stuttering. 
You looked at him questioningly. He still acted strangely.
You closed the small gap between the two of you and sat down in front of him with your legs crossed. His visor followed your movements. 
“You don’t seem okay to me, Mando.” you whispered looking at him,
You saw his shoulders rising, just a few millimeters, but far enough for you to know that you hit a nerve.
“I…” he paused again, slowly taking off his dirty gloves revealing his skin. You never saw him take anything off, this was the first time him showing you his skin. Oh boy, somethings coming.
He laid his gloves down between his legs, looking at them for a little too long as if he was still thinking, forming sentences in his head.
“Look, I had a hard time today. I nearly got into some...bad trouble and- “ he stopped and cleared his throat.
Your heart rate picked up on speed as he raised his head to look at you again. Your hands trembled a little but you realized he was too. He was nervous. 
“I just realized that if I died, I would die alone. Like, I mean I know the child would miss me but...I never had someone...special.” his helmet tiled down at his trembling hands again.
“Someone special?” your mouth was dry like kriffing Tattooine. Your heart was beating, you could even hear it, stars, Mando could probably hear it too.
“Yeah. I never thought about that stuff. I always liked being alone. But since….” he stopped again taking a deep breath. His voice was rough as he continued.
“...since I met...you, I realized how lonely I am.”
You didn’t know what to answer to that. You knew what he was trying to tell you but didn’t dare to help him out and say what you wanted to say. You were too nervous. You both sat in awkward silence for a few seconds which seemed endless.
“Look, I….you...you are special to me.” he gulped and looked up again. His voice was muffled, his vocoder having a hard time picking it up. But you heard him still.
“Mando...stars.” you felt your cheeks heat up. Hearing these words out of his mouth felt so strange. The Mandalorian, who was always short on words, telling you he had a crush on you. You didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I’m sorry.” he sighed and his gaze dropped again. “I shouldn’t have said that.” his shoulders dropped and he suddenly looked so small.
“No, no wait, Mando. I...you can’t imagine how...how. Oh well.” you never were good at feelings. “I am feeling the same...about you. It feels like you are my missing piece.”
As he looked up at you this time you could tell he gained his confidence back. 
“You know,” he started. “ You know, you were on my mind all the time as I was hunting down this womp rat.” he gestured to the frozen nautolan. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
You felt your cheeks heat up even more. You must look like an idiot as you were smiling at him. All those times you were thinking about him you didn’t know he was thinking about you too.
He suddenly held out his hand. His bare hand. No dirty Mando-Gloves with holes that had been stitched up poorly. His bare skin.
“Please take my hand, cyare.” he murmured.
You were surprised by his nickname for you, probably mando’a. You slowly reached out and gently took his hand. His skin was warm and soft just like you imagined it. As your fingers intertwined with yours he slowly and gently pulled you closer to him. You followed his movements until you were sitting awkwardly between his sprawled-out legs, very very close to him. He smelled like gunpowder.
He cradled both of your cold hands in his warm ones, his hands were so big next to yours. 
“My name is Din.” he breathed and even if his eyes were covered you knew he was looking deep into yours. You were surprised that he had told you his name, since it’s sacred, and hidden, like his face. 
“That’s a beautiful name.” You smiled. 
He chuckled and cradled your face with one hand while pulling your other hand down to his cold breastplate. 
 “Thank you, senaar.” 
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youreacowgirllikeme ¡ 4 years ago
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Time Will Tell: Part Three
note: this is for @peppermintschnappss , who requested a part three (read part ONE and TWO here) so here we go, enjoy :)
words: 3k
warnings: swearing, smut
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“The jury finds the defendant not guilty of the accused charges.“
Hearing the verdict felt like the biggest weight had just dropped off your shoulders, you were so relieved that you could barely make out the judge dismissing the court over the sound of your pulse hammering in your ears.
You had just won your first case for your new employer, it had been the first client you had dealt with all on your own, a case of alleged tax fraud, and you had nailed it.
With a big smile on your face, you quickly congratulated your client and, after a short talk with the prosecutor, made your way out of the courtroom, a spring in your step.
Just before you reached the door, the sound of a familiar voice behind you made you stop in your tracks.
“You did it, champ.”
Turning around, you came face to face with your colleague, but more importantly, boyfriend, Chris.
You were surprised to see him, and immediately threw your hands around his neck to kiss him, not caring about the fact that you were technically still in the court room.
“Chris, what are you doing here? Did you watch the trial?” You asked after breaking the kiss.
“Of course I did. It was your first one for the firm, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Actually, I’m here to pick you up. We’re celebrating.”
+++
“You did this all by yourself?”
You took in the living room of Chris apartment with wide eyes. He had put up a beautiful dinner table, and there was a delicious smell coming from the kitchen.
“You’re such a sap.” You said, a bit choked up. „Thank you so much, baby. “
“Only for you, superstar.” Chris replied, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body to his. He was warm and solid, and when his hands wandered down to squeeze your ass, dinner wasn’t your top priority anymore.
"Do you think we can maybe re-heat the food later?” You gasped against Chris lips, pulling his shirt out of his trousers to run your hands over his abs.
“Fuck, yes.” he murmured, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the bedroom.
+++
“Oooh here she comes, trying for the outside jump.” Chris exclaimed, before bursting out laughing as you totally missed the hoop.
“Sweetheart, I‘m so sorry, but that was pathetic.”
You flipped him the bird, running to collect the ball and throwing it at Chris with all the force you could manage. He effortlessly caught it and shot it through the hoop like it was nothing.
“Show-off.” you murmured, sitting down on the bench on the side of the basketball court. You were done, Chris had tried to teach you his favorite game for hours now, but you didn’t manage to make any progress. You just weren’t cut out for ball sports.
“Don’t beat yourself up, baby. It took me forever when I first started playing.” Chris said, slumping down next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull your close.
“Stop it, im gross and sweaty.” You giggled, trying to push him away, but he just laughed and pressed a kiss to your head. His laugh was your favorite sound in the world, so you stopped wriggling and leaned against his shoulder.
“Who taught you to play like that anyway?” you asked, looking up and noticing a far away look on Chris‘ face.
“My dad did.” He said, his voice oddly quiet now. “It was our favorite activity when I was a teenager.” He paused for a moment, and you decided to wait and let him speak. “For a long time, it basically was our only one. You know, with him being governor and everything, he wasn’t around a lot, or had any free time.”
“I’m sorry, Chris.” you whispered.
“It’s alright.” He dismissed you, still sounding a bit strained. “My big brother stepped up for a lot of stuff, you know. Homework, making sure I didn’t get in trouble, he even helped me with my college applications and everything. He’s an ass most off the time, but I still love him, and I’m grateful for everything he has done for me.” He chuckled. “But he can’t play basketball for shit.”
“Sounds like he and I have something in common then.” You noted, trying not to sound awkward. The topic of Chris’ family was still foreign terrain, you hadn’t met them yet, and had decided to give Chris space and wait for him to bring it up himself. You were also slightly nervous, because there was no way Chris hadn’t told them about you, his college nemesis.
Deciding to change the topic and cheer your boyfriend up, you picked up the ball again.
“Do you still have enough energy for another round, Cuomo?” You asked smugly. “If you’d rather go home and take a nap, just say so, would be totally fine.”
Chris laughed, and snatched the ball right out of your hands with ease. You were happy to see him lighten up.
“Please, as if playing against you would require any energy.”
+++
The topic of Chris childhood didn’t come up for another few weeks, you had noticed that he avoided talking about it and were wise enough not to pressure him.
Everything was going fine until Chris lost a big case for a very high-end client. The man had clearly been guilty, and not even your boyfriend had been able to get him out, despite his talent as an attorney.
It was the talk off the whole firm the next day, Chris hadn’t lost a case in ages, and never such an important one. He had been on edge ever since the trial, but it was what happened in the morning meeting that made him snap.
The reason was Smith, another associate and Chris’ number one opponent for the spot of the next junior partner of the firm. You hated the guy, he was vile and clearly only in it for the money. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and started to attack Chris during the morning meeting.
“Great job you did yesterday, Cuomo.” he snarled, his voice sounding through the whole conference room. “I wonder how many clients your incompetence will cost us. People are already talking.”
You could feel Chris going rigid beside you and carefully put your hand on his back in an attempt to calm him.
“Don’t let him get to you.” You whispered “He wants to rile you up.”
When the man continued to speak, you could see Chris’ jaw going tense, which was never a good sign.
“Seriously, boss, Cuomo is a basket case, how is he still working for us after that fuck-up? Oh, wait, I know it, I’m sure daddy pulled some strings for his little boy.”
You couldn’t prevent what was happening next. Chris surged forward with a angry growl, already taking a swing at the guy.
“Shut your fucking mouth!” he hissed, backing Smith up against a wall. He was considerably larger, and the fearful expression on the guys face paired with Chris raised fist made chaos break loose as multiple people were trying to get him away from the smaller man.
“Gentlemen, stop this!” your boss thundered over the agitated voices of your fellow coworkers “Smith, see me right away. I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior. Cuomo, take a walk and then get to work. Come to my office after you’re done tonight.”
Chris gave Smith another deadly stare before storming out of the room. You shot your boss an anxious glance, but he just nodded, signalling you to go after Chris.
You hastily followed your boyfriend, only to see him disappear into his office at the end of the hallway. Carefully, you approached the closed door and entered without knocking.
Chris was slumped in his chair, face buried in his hands. Seeing him like this made you want to go back and punch Smith in his stupid face.
“Hey.” you whispered, gently reaching out to put your hand on Chris shoulder.
He raised his head, and the look of fury and sadness in his eyes almost broke your heart.
"Fuck, I should not have lost control like this back in there.” he said “But this guy has been testing me for so long now, always with the same bullshit.”
He got up from his chair and started pacing around the small room.
“You know how often I’ve heard this crap before, Y/N? That I’m just where I am because of my family name? That my father paved the way for everything I’ve ever succeeded in?”
You swallowed, a churning feeling in your stomach. You knew exactly what he was talking about, because for years you’ve been one of the main people saying just that. You wanted to speak, but Chris interrupted you.
“Those people out there, they know nothing about me. They don’t know how it was to have a father who was absent all the time, to be constantly teased in school. To be ripped out of the life you knew to move to fucking Albany, this stupid one horse town where everyone knew your name, and go to this school full of pricks who all made fun of me and bullied me because of my family. I never asked to be in the fucking spotlight.”
By now, Chris was almost screaming, and there was a kind of emotion in his voice you’ve never heard before, he sounded desperate and sad in a way that made tears well up in your eyes.
“Still, I worked my ass off in that stupid school, and I got into Yale. Only for people to say the exact same shit about me again, and this drags through my whole life, Y/N. I can never get rid of this, I avoided politics and tried to do my own thing here, but everything I’ll ever be to people is the son of the fucking governor, who in their eyes, never worked a day in his life.”
You were frozen to your spot, just watching Chris through a veil of tears. Guilt and dread were clawing in your stomach, it had never occurred to you that all the things you said in the past had not only been far from the thruth, but had also hurt Chris so profoundly. He had always seemed so cool and unfazed during your arguments.
“Chris.” You began. “You’re more to me. You’re a brilliant attorney, the boss has talked about how great you are at the job the second I arrived here and hasn’t stopped since. Smith is jealous because he knows he’ll never reach your level, not as a lawyer and much less as a person. You are kind, and the most intelligent and dedicated man I know. You’re everything I always thought you weren‘t, and that I am one of the people who hurt you this way makes me sick. I cant even begin to tell you how sorry I am for being so shallow.”
You were crying now, tears rolling down your face. Chris looked devastated, hurrying to you to pull you into a tight embrace.
“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago, baby. You’ve been my rock ever since we’ve met again, and that makes up for every silly row we had in college.” He pressed a kiss to your hair, and you sighted, nuzzling your face into his chest, your tears soaking into his dress shirt.
“You probably have to change this.” You whispered, tugging on a wet patch on the fabric.
“I have a spare one in here, don’t worry.” Chris replied, taking your face into his hands to kiss you deeply. “We’re not the people we used to be, Y/N. Don’t beat yourself up, and I’ll try to do the same, promise.”
+++
Soon afterwards, you had to leave to meet up with a client for your current case. You had been running around the whole day without a break, and without hearing anything from Chris.
It was almost eight by now, and you were starting to get worried. Pacing your living room, you were anxiously waiting for Chris to arrive. He had told you to not wait up at the firm but promised to come to your apartment as soon as his talk with the boss was over.
The sign of the bell made you spin around and run to your door, yanking it open. Chris was standing outside your apartment, and the big smile on his face erased your anxiety in a heartbeat.
“You’re looking at a freshly promoted junior partner, sweetheart.” He grinned, and whatever he wanted to say next was interrupted by you throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck with a squeal.
“Oh my god, baby, congratulations.” You exclaimed, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Tell me everything!”
Chris followed you into your flat, discarding his suit jacket and letting himself fall onto your couch.
“I still haven’t fully realized what happened.” He began. “I was sure the boss would kick my ass for the way I behaved this morning, maybe even suspend me for a while. But he just told me off really quickly, and then he started talking about how that case I lost was impossible to win anyway, and how good my work has been for the past years. And then he offered me the junior partner position, just like that. I accepted of course.”
He smiled, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I can’t wait to rub that into Smiths stupid face. One of the paralegals told me he got a big ass whooping by the boss after the meeting this morning.”
"Serves him right, that little asshole.” You replied, before leaning over to kiss Chris again. “I’m so proud of you, you deserve this like no one else. Now that I think about it, how does champagne sound?”
“Wow, so were going to be fancy tonight?” Chris chuckled.
“If you becoming a junior partner doesn’t call for champagne, what does?” you responded, getting up to fetch the drinks from the kitchen.
You handed Chris a glass and clinked your own against his. “To you, Mr. Big Shot lawyer.”
The champagne sent a pleasant, fuzzy feeling through your stomach, and you let your eyes fall on your boyfriend, taking in how good he was looking in the warm light of the room.
“You know, I always had a thing for attorneys.” You murmured, setting down your glass to put your hands on Chris chest.
Chris laughed, and set his glass aside as well, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Is that so, huh? Well today is your lucky day then, I just got promoted and I’m in the mood to celebrate.”
His hot breath sent a shiver down your spine, and you tilted your head, exposing your neck to Chris, who instantly started kissing and sucking the smooth skin. You moaned softly and started to unbutton Chris shirt with shaking fingers.
“Bedroom?” he asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, taking his hand to pull him to the other room. Both of you quickly shed your clothes before you dropped to your knees in front of Chris, closing your lips around his already hard cock.
“Jesus, Y/N.” he murmured, stroking your hair as you fully took him into your mouth. “So perfect, baby.”
You wrapped you hand around the base of his length, stroking him while moving your head up and down. Suddenly, Chris hand grabbed your hair and softly pushed you away.
“If you keep it up like that, this will be over soon, and I’m not done with you, sweetheart. Get on the bed, baby.”
You quickly complied, laying down on the duvet and looking up at Chris expectantly.
He climbed on top of you and started stroking your inner thighs with his fingers, softly nudging your legs apart.
“I bet youre already wet for me, baby.” He murmured, voice smooth and dark as his fingers dipped between your legs. “I knew it.”
“Chris.” You whined at the feeling of his fingers brushing over your clit. “Fuck me, please.”
“Patience, baby.” Chris replied and continued to tease you, softly circling your bud with increasing pressure until you were sobbing, legs shaking as you fell apart under his touch.
While you were still riding out your climax, Chris slid between your legs and pushed into you. You cried out as he started to move, you were still so sensitive that you could feel yourself already approaching the next orgasm.
“Shit, baby, you’re tight, I’m not gonna last.” Chris grunted, his thrusts were already getting more erratic.
“Let go, baby.” You whispered, your voice breaking as you reached your peak again, pulling Chris with you this time.
+++
Afterwards, you laid next to each other, Chris arm loosely slung around you as you played with a lock of his hair. His blue eyes found yours, and you had to smile, your heart fluttering when he smiled back at you.
“It’s funny.” Chris suddenly said, “So many things happened today, but the only thing I care about right now is that you’re here with me.”
He propped himself up on his elbow to properly look at you.
“I would’ve never thought that this” he gestured between the two of you “could happen.”
“Not in a thousand years.” You agreed, laughing softly.
Chris face got serious, and he reached out to softly stroke your cheek.
“If you want, I’d like to introduce you to my family this weekend, Y/N. You know that I’m a private person and talking about emotions isn’t exactly my strong suit. But you make me really happy, and I want everyone to know.”
“I’d love to meet them.” You whispered, and the smile that took over Chris face made you forget your nervousness.
Everything would be fine.
27 notes ¡ View notes
safarigirlsp ¡ 4 years ago
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I loved LOVED your Charlie fic! Like I want Charlie to tear me up and then apologize for it lol. Can you write something for Flip? Like teasing with him? I love these prompts for Flip. I thought I’d ask just Bc you said you like Flip too. “Behave.” And. “Im not letting you wear that in public” ‘why not?’ “cause It would be a shame to rip it off in front of a hundred people, such nice material.” And. “Keep this safe for me.” TY TY TY!!! Do you know anyone who’s doing Halloween themed stuff???
Hey! Flip is absolutely my favorite, so I don’t mind giving this a shot. Teasing Flip is one of my favorite things to read, too. I modified one prompt a little and tried to use them a little differently.
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No Plaid Today
Word Count: 2700
Flip Zimmerman x Reader
Warnings: NSFW. Light smut. Language. Fluff. Teasing. Pretty tame stuff.
AO3 Link
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Monday’s had always been rough for you. They were for everyone, you suppose. But, they had grown so much more painful for you since you became involved with Flip Zimmerman.
Your weekends, up to and including Sunday nights, were now spent having the hottest sex of your life with the hottest man you’d ever known. Round after round of steamy, passionate, animalistic sex than had you cumming until you lost count on his fingers, tongue, and monstrously marvelous cock. After, you would lay in his solid embrace, feeling him under you, around you, against you, as his fingers traced patterns of his adoration into your skin. You were never in a rush to let sleep take you away from that delicious feeling. Neither was Flip. You both would stay awake well into the night and sometimes early morning talking about nothing, laughing together, and simply reveling in the feeling of each other. It was wonderful.
The obnoxious clang of your alarm on Monday mornings was an intrusion every bit as offensive as a police siren in your rearview. You had never been much of a morning person, but you now found it even more difficult to get out of bed so early when you were leaving behind a huge warm body and strong arms that always managed to be wrapped around you. You were never in a good mood until you consumed enough caffeine to raise a corpse from the grave.
Contrarily, Flip was a morning person. You assumed it was his time in the military that had so conditioned him. Maybe it was because his mornings were spent with you. He could enjoy you, your body, your company, and when schedules allowed, he could ensure both of you started the day off just right by cumming together. Your presence in the morning was his favorite thing to wake up to, before the stressors of the day hit him. Like an avalanche it would crash over him. A barrage of paperwork, criminals, petty rules and regulations, the general public, all of it whittled away at his good mood until his demeanor was soured and his scowl was set for the remainder of the day.
Flip did an expert job of making you enjoy mornings when he had the time to spend on you. After all, it was hard to be grouchy when you were flooded with the warmth of an orgasm, or several. The days on which one of you was rushed, however, a source of great amusement for Flip was prodding at your grousey morning attitude.
On this particular Monday, you and Flip both had an early morning. It was also an important day for Flip. He was due in court for a high profile trial on one of his big drug cases that he’d spent months building undercover. High stakes. Media coverage. The works. He wasn’t nervous, though. One thing about Flip, he didn’t rattle. And he had no reason to. He was prepared and his case was as solid as they come. All that remained was jumping through the legal hoops of convicting the asshole. Flip’s testimony would be the nail in his coffin.
Flip woke with the first tolling of your alarm, instantly alert as always. You instead buried your face back in his chest and growled into it, “Ten more minutes.”
Moments later, Flip was propped above you, littering kisses to your face and chest, interspersed with intentionally scratching his goatee along the areas he knew to be extra sensitive. This was his modus operandi. He would always kiss you good morning. But when you wouldn’t get up timely, he would ensure he became progressively more annoying with his kisses, bites, scratches with his beard, even tickling you, until you were trying to smack him and shove him off of you. It was impossible of course to shove his huge body anywhere unless he let you, but once you had exerted enough effort to make him budge, you were also fully awake.
This morning, it was his facial hair skimming over your nipple before he took it between his teeth to give you a gentle nip at the same time that his fingers goosed a ticklish spot on your ribs that finally jolted you into full consciousness.
“Fuck, Flip,” you cursed him as you slapped his chest.
He was quick to pin both of your arms above your head in one of his unfairly large hands. “That’s battery against a police officer, miss,” his voice was low as he bent down for a genuine kiss.
****************************************************************************************************
You were applying makeup. Bent over the bathroom counter to inch closer to the mirror as you tried to delicately trace a wing of eyeliner for a proper cat eye. You hadn’t dressed yet and were clothed only in your matching bra and thong. They were nicer than your usual because you were entertaining the idea of ‘treating’ Flip to lunch, helping him relax during the trial.
Flip pushed the bathroom door open and leaned against the doorway, a mug of steaming coffee in hand, and appraised you hungrily. He was partially dressed in slacks, dress shoes, and a v-neck undershirt, all black. No plaid today. A low rumble echoed deep in his throat as his rich amber eyes caressed you, slowly growing darker as his pupils swelled.
Holding the mug up, he indicated the coffee was for you as he pushed himself off the door frame and walked fully into the bathroom.
He’s so sweet, you thought as he set the coffee down for you, prepared just the way you like it. He then moved to stand right behind your bent over figure, his hands resting on your hips as he brought his own flush with your ass. And such a bastard.
You fixed him with a deadly glare through the mirror. “It’s all fun and games until you make me screw up my eyeliner, Zimmerman.”
His only acknowledgement was the slight twitch of one side of his mouth into a lopsided smirk. He didn’t meet your eyes, still admiring your ass in front of him.
One thick thumb traced the lace of your thong along the inside of your cheek up to the strip that wrapped around your hip. “I’m not letting you wear this out in public,” he said lowly with a teasing edge to his baritone.
“As much as I enjoy your particular brand of bs, I don’t have time for this right now.” You told him evenly, trying not to let your own arousal seep into your voice.
His thumb hooked through the strap, pulling it away from your skin only to let it snap back against you, making you jolt.
“Goddamnit, Flip.” You swatted his side behind you with your empty hand. That, of course, encouraged him.
Flip was genuinely smirking now, that familiar devilish gleam in his eyes as he slowly raised his gaze to meet yours in the mirror. Holding your eyes with his darkly purposeful stare, he moved his fingers down between your thighs to rub your pussy through the dampening fabric of your thong.
You focused on your reflection in the mirror, attempting to ensure that your eyes were even, and trying to ignore your traitorous pussy that was already throbbing from Flip’s touch.
Pleasure shuddered through your body when Flip slipped a finger past your thong to skim between your lips, causing you to make a small but easily correctable mistake on your eyebrow.
“Knock it the fuck off, Flip!” You huffed, more aggressively than you intended. “Can you just behave for a few minutes?”
His eyes still on yours in the reflection, Flip withdrew his finger from you after making one more pointed swipe through your folds. He then brought both of his hands down on the counter on either side of you, leaning over you like a wolf over his kill, and pushed his hips against your ass, pinning you hard against the counter. “Behave, huh?��� His teeth showed as he grinned at you through the mirror. You glared back.
“There are plenty of men out there who’ll behave real nice for you, sugar.” His head lowered so his lips could brush your ear, “we both know if that’s what you wanted, you wouldn’t have lasted five minutes with me.”
His eyes still held yours predatorily. He made a deliberate show of bringing his lips to your shoulder and kissing you gently before biting into you and sucking a mark into your skin. A fresh reminder that you were his, matching those that had begun to fade. He followed with a chaste kiss to your cheek before straightening himself to his full impressive height.
He made a show of looking at a non existent watch on his wrist. “Better quit screwing around, gorgeous. You don’t want to run late.” Flip punctuated his sentence by bringing his hand down to smack the side of your ass, smiling broadly at you before making his exit.
He’s in for it now.
****************************************************************************************************
You both had to make your respective departures in a few short minutes as you descended the stairs from your bedroom.
Flip was seated at the dining room table reviewing his case file when you emerged. You wanted to look good today, tantalizing, and you accomplished it with flying colors. You had a pencil skirt and a silky top, paired with a bold leather jacket that Flip loved on you, and pointed heels. His favorite was when you balanced sultry and edgy, just enough of an edge to your appearance to intimidate weaker men, but sexy enough to make them desire you in spite of it.
Your hand trailed along Flip’s broad shoulders as you moved to sit sideways on his lap, making it a point rub your ass against his cock as you adjusted yourself. You arched your back just enough to ensure your breasts were close enough to Flip’s face that you could feel his hot breath on them. He swallowed thickly as he rested one hot hand on your thigh, the other supporting you at the small of your back.
He looked amazing. He had donned a charcoal dress shirt, the buttons of which were strained to contain the expansive breadth of his chest. His black suit jacket fit him sharply, proud shoulders tapering to a defined waist. His hair was always perfect, whether it was a tousled mess from your fingers teasing his own sweat through it, or whether it was meticulously brushed into place, it was perpetually sexy as hell.
Flip brought his lips to your throat for a few moistened kisses before asking you, “Are you coming to watch today? I’d like to see your pretty face while I’m on the stand.”
Trials were open proceedings and you had made it your habit to attend all of Flip’s when your work allowed.
“I don’t know,” you teased. “You look so handsome today, it might be a bad idea.”
Flip raised an eyebrow at you, “Is that so? All the more reason for you to come see me then, isn’t it?”
You ran your hands down the lapels of his jacket before moving them up to undo the top buttons of his shirt just enough to run your nails across his chest. “This is such a nice suit. It’d be a shame if I ripped it off of you in front of so many people.” You bent down to place a lipstick tinted kiss to his chest, just above the v in his undershirt.
You could feel his cock hardening underneath you. Good.
You reached for his left wrist, bringing it up to look at the actual watch that now adorned it. “You don’t want to run late,” you lilted as you rose from his lap, ignoring his protesting curses.
You were both out of the door in short order, Flip still trying fruitlessly to palm his half hard cock into a discreet position in his suit pants that were fitted too tightly to allow for much modesty, especially with a dick like his.
****************************************************************************************************
Later that morning, armed with two coffees in hand, you entered the courthouse. The front guard recognized you and waived you through, telling you the courtroom in which you could find Flip.
Your heels clicked down the long hallway and you ensured your hips swayed just a bit more as you rounded a corner to be greeted with the sight of Flip talking to Stallworth and two other uniformed officers you didn’t know outside the courtroom. It was normal protocol for cops and other witnesses. Hurry up and wait. Punctual arrival to court was mandated even when one wouldn’t be testifying for hours. It rendered the hallways ripe for officers to shoot the breeze together.
Flip gave you a broad toothy smile as you approached. A rare sight for anyone but you. His large arm extended for you, an invitation for you to fit yourself perfectly under it and against his side. You handed him one coffee as you sipped your own.
The other cops acknowledged you by way of taking jabs at Flip. “He really is going soft. Gourmet coffee and everything,” one officer quipped to Stallworth, who replied, “I don’t know how he managed to get Y/N bringing him coffee instead of throwing it on him.”
“I must be doing somethin’ right to have such a hot woman bringing me hot coffee,” he directed to the officers as he squeezed you against him.
“Hot, am I?” You let a tinge of seduction leak into your tone as you looked up at him.
“Beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning.” He stooped to kiss you gently, whispering against your lips, “Perfect.” Straightening himself, Flip unconsciously puffed his chest up a little more than usual, the opportunity to show you off making him literally swell with pride.
“Indecent exposure’s a real charge, Flip,” Stallworth stated dryly, earning a smile from you and a huff from Flip.
He finished his coffee in minutes, the venti barely a serving for such a large man.
You stepped away briefly to set your own coffee down on a nearby bench, appraising Flip as you returned to him. He really was dashing in his black suit, so handsome and towering.
With a hand on his cheek, you turned Flip away from his buddies so you could straighten his tie and smooth his lapels. He would always fix you with a scowl when you preened over him in public, but the small fleeting upturns of his lips and the affectionate glint in his eyes betrayed him. He loved it when you fussed over him, when you laved him with your affection. He loved how you made it clear to everyone else that he was your man and how you made it especially apparent just how much you loved being his girl. He didn’t even mind when his friends gave him shit because he knew they all wanted what he had, or when they teased you and asked how you tamed the beast. He knew it was true, in a way, that you had.
You made a final pass over Flip’s collar, freeing a few ebony locks from beneath it. One hand rested on his chest as your other reached into the pocket of your own jacket, retrieving a small bundle. You brought it out as you opened Flip’s jacket so you could place the item in his inner breast pocket. “Keep this safe for me,” you instructed as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.
Flip regarded you quizzically as he moved to withdraw the item from inside his suit. His eyes darkened instantly as he pulled your lacy thong from his pocket, eyeing it quickly, before hastily shoving it back inside. His glare on you was murderous.
You smiled deviously up at him, “I thought about what you told me this morning. You’re right, handsome. I shouldn’t be wearing those out in public.”
Flip reached to grab your hip with bruising strength, leaning down closer to you, his eyes glimmering with lust and possessiveness. You felt his breathe on your ear as he moved to growl a whisper, just as the door to the courtroom opened and the bailiff called “Detective Zimmerman” in to take the stand.
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Š safarigirlsp 2020
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gif by @babbushka
191 notes ¡ View notes
hansolmates ¡ 4 years ago
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jjk; angel’s trumpet [bonus]
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summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–nudity boobies! w.c; 2.2k a/n; why did a week go by so stinkin’ fast? i’m not ready to let go of this couple! that being said, i wouldnt mind posting some drabble babbles about these two or four. im utterly thankful for the love and passion my readers had for this, i had so many kind readers that kept me afloat through all of. i can’t wait to see you in the next one, and i hope you enjoy this little glimpse💕
[final] [bonus] -> masterpost
“You’re not Jimin.” 
Jungkook’s eyes snap open, and he takes note of the change in air. Chalk it up to the open window or the fact that the rain’s evaporated, but he can’t help the pinch of pain in his heart as he realizes that you’re far, far gone from this world. 
And in your place, is you. Not quite you, but it’s almost scary how easy it is to regard your visage and simple conversation. 
“Jimin,” he repeats, as if he heard you wrong. “As in, Park Jimin? Tiny guy with a big ego?” 
“Yes,” you reply blandly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes are sparkless, flickering between your state of nakedness and his state of nakedness. “I know I wasn’t exactly sober last night, but I distinctly remember telling him he’d be in my bed tonight,” and you regard Jungkook with a sort of pointed look, unable to decipher your situation, “but here you are. Still cupping by boob.” 
Out of reflex, he squeezes his palm. Yep, that’s yours. 
A little part of him also wants to yell to the heavens because you failed to tell him you were hooking up with Park Jimin before all of this. 
Okay technically you didn’t, but the person in front of him did. 
His heart is fresh and stinging like a hot cut on the asphalt. He watches you take in your surroundings, humming when you notice the new clothes on the rack and the way your desk has been rearranged. Jungkook is trying very hard to be patient, after all you’re a stranger and suddenly he feels like he’s the one that’s known you all his life. Oh, how the tables have turned. 
You stretch, testing out your limbs as they pop and crackle at your command. You run a hand through your strawberry-smelling hair, and Jungkook has to grip the sheets to not go by instinct and take you right then and there on this mattress. With a shameless groan of satisfaction, you flop against your bed. Jungkook tries, emphasis on try, to not watch as your breasts bounce and the way your hair flows around your pillow like the angel you are, but he’s rendered smitten. 
“Uh,” boobies boobies boobies. 
You pointedly ignore his piss-poor attempt at coherent conversation, staring up at the ceiling.  “Ho—ly shit,” you curse freely, heaving an exhausted sigh, “I feel so sore.” 
“S-sore?” Great, he found his voice. 
“Yeah, like I’ve been in a coma or something,” but you think nothing of it, summing it up as a crazy dream from alcohol poisoning. You sit up straight, reaching for your phone. It’s not on your desk, but instead you find something far more interesting. 
You reach for your Midnight Blue Citrus candle, frowning at the contents. The wax is nearly burnt to the end, the tips of the wicks charcoal black and frayed. Waving your used candle in Jungkook’s face you blame, “What the fuck, did you use all of this last night? I just bought this like, literally yesterday!” 
His face falls, “What? You’ve had that candle for forever—”
“And why the heck it is so hot in the middle of February?” 
Oh. 
Something dark and sad creeps up Jungkook’s stomach, and he hates to be the one to tell you. February was when it all started, and his life changed with the presence of you. Jungkook tells himself repeatedly that the woman in this room is simultaneously the person he’s loved since winter and the stranger he feels that he’s meant to love with time. Considering everything’s happening all at once understanding it is still hard, but he’ll try for you. 
It breaks his heart to see how you look lost and confused, like a child woken up from a debilitating nightmare. Your lips are bitten red and purple, trying your hardest not to show fear in front of him, a stranger. You’re frustrated as you try your hardest to shut the windows to block the incoming humidity from last night’s rain. 
He says your name, sweet and soft. “It’s almost summer,” he says, his voice calm and collected. 
“So are you telling me, that wasn’t a dream?” 
The two of you stare at each other, unmoving. He tries not to squirm under your gaze, you watch him intently, scraping at the edge of your brain for any ideas. You’re hugging yourself, arms wrapping against your breasts as if you’re trying to hold your body together in a way that alludes to any brokenness you felt over these past two months. 
Neither of you break the silence, and there’s a bang and a crash. Jungkook flinches at the tell-tale signs of the unwanted intruder, the fling of keys across your wooden table and a shrill call of your name. 
“Who’s that?” 
“Probably Hoseok,” Jungkook answers reluctantly, his thumb rubbing between his brows. 
He ignores the extra cool air against his naked bits when he throws the blankets off his lap. Ignores the way you pointedly, shamelessly check him out as he throws on his sweats and a t-shirt. To his dismay he can’t ignore the burn in his cheeks when he knows how you’re scrutinizing him like a one-night stand, trying to recollect any type of concrete thought that would seem plausible enough to explain why you woke up in bed with him. 
Throwing open your bedroom door and leaving you there, he cards a hand through his rogue bedhead to face a frantic Hoseok. 
“It’s so early,” Hoseok warbles to himself, impressed that he’s managed to cop fresh donuts and coffee at nearly 7AM. 
Jungkook sees nothing but an orange blob and Hoseok’s head, bleary and vibrating. Rubbing his eyes he says, “You just realized how early it is? Couldn’t you have stopped by a little later?” 
“No, I couldn’t!” Hoseok’s now invading Jungkook’s personal space, as if you weren’t the bridge between their threads of a relationship, as if he and Hoseok could be friends. “I woke up a few hours ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I felt it, Jungkook. It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. The air shifted and I felt like I was between two parallel universes—I swear on my bad knee that I’m not going through a drug trip—and I felt the world turning and changing and it was so fuckin’ weird I had to come here as soon as Dunkin’ opened. Didn’t you feel it too?” 
“Yeah,” Jungkook exhales, not bothering to hide the disappointment. He smiles sadly, “it’s definitely not her.” 
Hoseok’s expression and excitement over the world’s converging falters, and he pulls Jungkook into a hug. They’re not particularly close and Hoseok’s smaller in size compared to Jungkook, but for those five seconds he feels comforted as he hugs him back. 
“Why don’t you go home and chill out, I don’t mind explaining things to her,” Hoseok offers, “and I’ll call you later and let you know how it went.” 
“Okay,” Jungkook replies, voice slow, “that sounds like a good idea, actually.” 
The situation is royally messed up, and he hates that he can’t blame it on anyone. Jungkook is a practical man, and he knows that he has no use when Hoseok is here with donuts and coffee. More importantly, there is no use torturing himself by letting his heart break in the presence of  you. 
“What is this, a party?” Taehyung’s bare feet smack against the hardwood, and he plops himself in the chair next to Hoseok, “did you get me coffee this time?” 
The two of them bicker good-naturedly, with Hoseok explaining a little kindness goes a long way and Taehyung muttering that kindness doesn’t happen without caffeine. Jungkook excuses himself, feeling very much out of place as he moves to your bedroom to pack his things. 
“You’re leaving?” you’re standing in the middle of your bedroom, now dressed in a long t-shirt and your hair tied clean and away from your face. You look pretty. 
“Yeah,” he says shortly, stuffing his jeans in his bag and making sure all traces of him are gone from your bedroom. “Need to sort things out,” he excuses, and while you may not buy it, he really does. He feels heartbroken, angry at the world. Maybe he could visit Yoongi today and get a demo in, put all this pent-up emotion to good use. “But Hoseok brought you breakfast, he’s a good friend, he’ll explain everything.” 
“But I don’t know Hoseok,” you mumble, picking at the hem of your band shirt. You’re pouting, stubborn. 
“But you don’t know me either,” Jungkook retorts, not unkindly, but not exactly gentle. “I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.” 
There’s a hard rip at his zipper, putting in a little too much force as he seals away all his things into a compact backpack. Heck, he even went as far as to take back the hoodie he lent you last month, making sure the fabric is crisp and folded so he can stow it away from your curious eyes. He shoves on his denim jacket from last night, still lingering with the scents of sand and saltwater. It makes him sombre, and the selfish part of him wishes to bottle up that scent and tuck it away forever. 
“You’re wrong,” you blurt when he moves toward the door. His hand lingers over the knob, “I do know you.” 
He narrows his dark eyes, taking in your honest expression, “At Jimin’s job, maybe? I did a couple interviews in the beginning of February. Maybe we passed each other while you had lunch with him.” 
“No. You sang to me, talked to me, as much as you could up until this moment.” 
He remembers the stories you fed to him last night under the stars, shameless and full of love as you explained to him of his other self. The life where he’s a renowned singer, a Golden Boy, one of the most revered in his industry. A life he could only dream of, yet somewhere out there he’s living it in another body making that dream come true. 
Thoughts are running through his head, memories that aren’t his own. He could only imagine what you must’ve gone through, recovering in a hospital bed for two months, unable to move but actively aware of the pain and anguish. How confused you must’ve been, aching to figure out what the hell is going on, acutely aware of the voices constantly chattering about your well-being. 
One of those voices being Jeon Jungkook, who was probably taking care of you night and day. 
His head is starting to throb, and he feels like he’s five seconds away from spiraling. 
“I’d… I’d feel more comfortable around you, Jungkook,” you confess, reaching for his hand, “but if you need to, you can go,” you bite your lip, folding in on yourself once more, “if it hurts too much to be around me right now.” 
He gladly takes your hand, rubbing his thumb between your palm. The familiar sparks he feels when he holds it return, but tamps it down for the sake of your vulnerability. It’s not your fault you’re in this situation. “No… I’m just gonna go home for a bit, clear my schedule,” he gives you a little smile, and he inflates a bit when you give him one of your own. “I’ll come back for you after breakfast.”
“You promise?” 
“Promise.” 
You pull him into an unexpected hug, suddenly fearing he may never come back. 
“I always wondered what the man looked like behind the voice,” and you’re suddenly melting, feeling a sense of familiarity as you let your heart run faster than your brain when you let him hold you in his arms. He smells just like him, too. 
His embrace is tight, and his arms fit in all the little curves and spots that make you feel warm and safe. “And am I living up to your expectations?” it’s a half-joke, after all the both of you are  going simply by feeling and there’s no way in hell would he even attempt to compare himself to well, himself. 
You pull away to look at him, really look at him. Honest, clear eyes. Jungkook thinks he sees the world in your gaze. “Only if you eat a donut before you go,” you reply with a shy smile. 
At your defiant mention of food he can’t help but grin like a maniac, letting you tug him back out to sit at the counter with him and have breakfast. Like he said before, he can’t wait to fall in love all over again. 
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