#to read someone is ‘disgusted’ by my work and they wouldn’t read it because I should be ‘ashamed’ made me cry

[persephoneflouwers]

-

[earthtooz]

jealous ratio because i really like him like that, fluff, reader is a menace

“who gave you those flowers?” 

ratio’s voice is demanding and snarky, eyes ablaze with a similar kind of disgust when you walk into your home with a bouquet in your arms. putting your keys on the counter, you greet him with your usual smile and prance over to place a kiss on his scowling expression.

which softens momentarily at the feel of your lips on his skin.

“hi, veritas,” you greet.

“welcome home, love,” he murmurs in return, smiling when looking at you, but the scowl returns when he makes eye contact with the flowers. “who gave you these?”

“aventurine did.”

the world freezes over with ratio’s silent rage and you’re the only one untouched despite being the catalyst. searching for a vase nearby, you’re more than content to let his possessiveness simmer, in fact, it’s something you are used to now.

when you manage to dig up an empty vase from a cabinet nearby, ratio’s footsteps scurry towards you.

“you’re keeping them?” he asks.

“why wouldn’t i? they’re a gift.”

“a gift? 

he’s fuming, absolutely fuming now as he watches you fret over the bouquet, trimming the ends, putting water in the bot, arranging them to look nice and lovely, all whilst your lover stared at you hawkishly. you pretend not to notice the way his eye twitches occasionally, allowing him to watch you work.

his mind must be working at a million thoughts per second, so you’ll just let him be until he can talk to you again.

“why did he give you flowers? there must be an occasion that i am unaware of.”

after finishing your final touches, you turn around with all the garbage in your hands and walk past the scholar. he follows. “to say thanks. he recently consulted me for one of his projects and the results were fruitful, so he bought me a bouquet in gratitude.” 

pink roses. last time ratio read, they were supposed to symbolise gratitude, the ideal choice to send to someone who has helped you. 

“well. if that’s the case then he owes me a planet’s worth of flowers.”

“lighten up, veritas, he was just being friendly.”

“friendly?” he all but snaps. 

“yes, friendly. is there an issue with that?” 

“that gambler being friendly implies to him being up to no good.” he attaches himself to your hip, hovering over you as you make a mug of coffee. “he is a menace, an undesirable anomaly, a type one error, i advise you keep your interactions with him limited. only one of us should need to deal with his antics so i suppose i’ll have to bite the bullet on this one, darling.”

“you are so brave, my hero. are you done? anymore talk about aventurine and i might just think you’re in love with him.” ratio splutters at your wild accusations, missing the way you smile under your breath. then, you throw your arms around the scholar and he doesn’t return the embrace, still dumbfounded. “i missed you and the first thing you do when i come home is talk about another man.”

he scoffs, lifting you up onto the kitchen counter. there, he rests his hands on either sides of the counter beside you. “your mouth is twice as foul as his.”

“and yet you still love me.”

“marginally.”

“you!”

tomorrow, you return home to a luxurious bouquet of red roses sitting on the kitchen island.

i'm writing this as a pregame to the diluc fic i have in the works.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.

series masterlist

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

[chrisevansonly]

DNF For Love

lando norris x reader

summary: you can’t believe your eyes, and lando can’t believe his ears

warnings: none, fluff, lando being lando

a/n: this is chaos and idk what i was doing with this 😭

Every now and then someone tagged you in a link on twitter and every so often your curiosity peaked and you indulged in whatever the fan had tagged you in. Most recently, you’d been loving the fan fiction links being sent your way, especially if they were written about your boyfriend Lando.

“Lan I cannot believe you right now.”

Now that tone of voice had Lando freezing from his spot in the bathroom, cleaning up his facial hair a little before he took off for Bahrain.

“Um…i’m sorry?”

“I just I can’t even look at you!”

Lando was quick to rinse his face off before walking over towards you and sitting in front of you. His eyes a little bit worried as he stared at you.

“What? I took the trash out, i cleaned up my facial hair out of the sink…there’s no socks on the floor!”

It was only a few seconds later that you sighed dramatically

“Well in this little story here apparently you dnf’d a race for the reader…you never do that for me!”

Lando looked at you like you grew four heads, his jaw dropping open as it clicked to him that once again you were reading fan fiction about him.

“Oh jesus christ-woman give me that!”

Finally letting yourself laugh you passed your phone to him and watched as his eyes scanned the writing, before he shook his head.

“Yeah because i’m giving up leading a race to dnf because my so called “girlfriend” is missing, mhm yeah because that makes sense”

“You wouldn’t even dnf for me?!”

Your laughter never ceased as he looked at you with almost a disgust, the idea not even fathomable for him, and even you knew it was so stupid.

“Baby, I love you, but I wouldn’t even dnf for my nan…and I love my nan a lot..”

You nodded shrugging as he passed your phone back, shutting it off you sat forward to kiss his forehead, easing the wrinkles that remained from his sheer distaste for what he just read.

“You heard it here folks, Lando Norris wouldn’t even dnf for love!”

“Okay that’s it”

There wasn’t much room to say anything because Lando had you pinned underneath him against the mattress as you laughed once again, a smirk on his face as he stared down at you.

“Here’s a deal, if i’m ever dead last in a shit car, i’ll dnf for you”

“So never?”

“Exactly”

Watching you carefully you shrugged

“I’ll take what I can get”

Happy with your response he leaned down to connect your lips together, the fanfic long gone out of your minds as you held one another tightly, Lando’s kisses always working to have you melt into a puddle. When you both pulled away you smiled admiring his face a little more than usual knowing you’d be without one another for a week until you went out to meet him at the first grand prix.

Lando’s new rule, no fan fiction at the track.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How these goofs react to you letting go of their hand all of a sudden…

Dick’s is a bit short cuz it is. Take that what you will. Plush he looks like the type to have a somewhat skincare routine/ enjoy participating in a skincare routine but that’s just me.

Dick Grayson exe has stopped working.

No literally, he just stares at his hand that you let go of as it grasps thin air.

You broke him. Congratulations.

Now apologise to poor Dickie bird for pulling such a stunt.

‘Why did you let go? What’s wrong?’ He’d ask, reaching a hand over to try and grab your hand again, only for you to pull away.

You shrugged ‘nothing, I just don’t feel like holding hands right now.’

Dick blinked. ‘Is it because I’m wearing moisturiser and it’s making your hand slip out of mine?’ He asked out of the blue and you couldn’t help but smile at his spontaneity sometimes.

‘No, it’s not because of that, even though it doesn’t get a bit…much sometimes.’ You muttered the last part under your breath. Dick beamed brightly when it wasn’t anything that he had done specifically that made you want to stop holding hands, and immediately grabbed for your hand again and intertwined your fingers together. ‘Good because I hope you know that I’m not letting go of your hand now.’ He said.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop him as Dick was at his cutest when he was happy and beaming brightly; Besides it was a silly prank you pulled that wouldn’t have lasted long anyways. ‘Fine by me, Dickie bird. Fine by me.’ You said to yourself as you both walked home from a date night well done.

Jason Todd would only try to hold your hand again as though nothing happened.

Then when you’d slip your hand from him a second time, Jason would stop, grab your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours and hiss. ‘Stop it, you’re acting like you don’t want to hold my hand.’

‘Well what if I don’t to?’ You asked him innocently enough and Jason stops to look at you, eyes softened. ‘If you didn’t want to hole my hand chipmunk, all you had to do was say so.’ Just as he was about to let go of your hand completely, you were quick to hold his hand and intertwine your fingers with his.

Jason raised his brows at you. ‘I didn’t peg you as the type to backpedal on your own prank sweetheart.’ He began. ‘Now I wonder why that is?’ He’d ask as he began to lead you both down the street again. You pouted, squeezing his hand, too stubborn to admit the fact that you loved the way that Jason’s hand felt within your own; Feeling protected, safe and sound. Also with the way that his hand encased yours in pure warmth was just an added bonus.

‘You keep me warm.’ You said but the way you worded it made it sound more of a question than anything else, and Jason picked that up almost immediately as he wolfishly smirked at you. ‘Is that your sole reason. That I keep you warm?’ He asks as he leaned towards your face, his hot breath fanning across your face. ‘Now why don’t I believe that.’ He adds and you took a deep breath to compose yourself before responding. ‘Believe me or not but that’s my only reason for holding your hand.’

Jason pouts as he holds his free hand against his chest as though he were hurt by your response. ‘If all I am to you is a hand warmer, then I guess I must accept my fate.’ He joked and you couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics, fondly remembering the night that he confessed his adoration for everything theatre. ‘I guess you should.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ‘We’ve got some books that require some much needed reading waiting for us at home after all.’ You added and smiled as Jason practically dragged you all the way home as he strode long strides.

Damian Wayne would react to you unceremoniously letting go of his hand the same way he’d react if someone were to insult his entire lineage; with a disgusted sneer.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He’d ask, crossing his arms over his chest, obviously unamused.

‘Didn’t feel like holding your hand anymore.’ You admitted with a shrug.

Damian huffs. ‘If that’s your reasoning then so be it.’ He’d then continue to walk off without another word.

Yep, that was Damian’s way of telling you that you just lost hand holding privileges for a week. Upon noticing this, you were quick to try and catch up to him and attempted multiple times to hold his hand once more, only for Damian to swiftly avoid your advances as though you were the plague.

‘Damian.’ You grunted as he dodged another one of your attempts of holding his hand. ‘Hold still and let me hold your fucking hand.’ Damian raised his brow at you and scoffs. ‘Tt. Done being childish have you?’ He asks rhetorically as you tried to hold his hand for the third time in the past five minutes. ‘It was only a prank Dami!’ You exclaimed, stopping in your footfalls when Damian stopped abruptly in front of you.

‘I’m aware.’ He answered dryly.

‘If I say sorry, will you let me hold your hand?’ You asked, regretting ever pulling a prank on Damian on the first place because no matter how low you’d go, Damian would somehow manage to go into the depths of hell to get his own back tenfold. Damian raised his brows. ‘Perhaps. Depends on how well put together your apology is.’

You groaned in frustration, knowing that you’ll never win with this little shit. ‘Fine. I’m sorry for pranking you Damian. How’s that for an apology?’ You said as quickly as you could just to get it over with in hopes of sparing yourself even more embarrassment. Damian pondered for a little bit and was about to say no and go back to walking, but when he caught a glimpse of your face, he knew then and there that he had truly gone soft as he found himself offering up his hand to you.

‘Don’t do it again.’ Was all he said and you immediately beamed as you clasped your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as you began to walk down the street.

[webbluvrsugar]

Hellowww, love your writing.

I can't stop thinking about reader being tuned on by Ethan being such a nerd, like every time he says something smart or dorky she just wants to jump his bones.

a/n: since I’ve been so obsessed with the concept of my bully!reader, I decided to make her in this one. Final request that has pretty Ethan header because it consumes a lot of time and I can’t get them out quick.

not proofread

Ethan turns you on in the weirdest ways…

Ethan is always telling you some random nerdy thing that you didn’t even ask about but sometimes relates to what your speaking of, he blames his quick thinking and apologises when you mock him for it, what he doesn’t know is that… it’s attractive, in a way.

You don’t know where your fondness for nerds started, but it surely seems a lot more noticeable when he’s a sound, sure, you make fun of him and you curse him out but there’s always times that you find yourself biting down on your pen, slowly getting more interested in what he’s saying, it’s weird…

“I can’t believe his head exploded like — why would he take off his spacesuit?” You comment about a recent movie you’ve seen, completely disgusted by it, you sit down on your chair, Ethan, who’s sitting on the desk besides you, can’t help but listen it.

“You know… that’s actually not true.” He points out.

Your frown, turn to him with a scoff. “What?”

“Your head wouldn’t explode if you.. took off your suit.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It wouldn’t, it’s impossible.” He mutters. “You would just… go blind from the blood vessels in your head popping, then you’d slowly freeze and —“ he keeps speaking, your eyes go down to his lips, you can’t even remember what you were talking about in the first place. “You’d asphyxiate.”

Your lips are lightly parted, he thinks you’re confused but you aren’t, you’re just in a very.. very light transe from what he just said, eyes focused on his before he speaks up.

“S — Sorry.” He fiddles with his pen, sighing.

“Uhm…” you chuckle, almost if not believing him. “how do you… how do you even know that?”

“I… read a lot of books, google things often…” he swallows hard, nervous of your reaction.

“‘Course you do.” You mock, crossing one leg over the other. “Tell me, E, what other facts do you know?”

It’s the first time you really do seem interested in what he has to say without making fun of him and Ethan takes advantage of it, he starts rambling about some geek movie stuff, something that you quickly start ignoring once you feel heat pooling down your stomach, it’s unlike you, it’s unlike him to be seducing you — if he’s even doing so — but it just works so well, and after a matter of minutes, you’re not sure what you’re even staring at.

Somehow, Ethan notices it, this time, it’s going to be him who teases you.

“Got it?” He raises one eyebrow, tries to hide back the smirk on his face.

“Y — Yeah, totally.” You swallow. “But it was so hard to, I was getting distracted by all your geeky stuff, I mean shit’s so boring.”

Ethan chuckles, and it’s the first time he’s ever laughed at you, in your face. “For someone who’s so smart, you don’t seem to have a lot of brains when I’m talking.”

“What?”

“Just saying, you’re.. so dull when you’re talking to me.” He points out.

“The hell does that mean?”

“Nothing, I just… I just think maybe you’re not so truthful about your hate towards me…”

You scoff, as if you don’t believe him, deep down, you know he’s probably right, but you’ll deny it.

“What? You think I find you hot or something? Get a grip, nerd, I wouldn’t like you even if you were born again.” You scoff, so upset that you stand, grab your things and leave.

Ethan know he should be offended, but he really can’t be anything other than glad when he sees the look on your face as you walk away.

[averyakuma]

Secret Admirer

Pairing - Alastor X fem! Reader

Plot - Fluff, building up friendship, secret admirer, physical contact? 🫢

A/N - I’m either gonna cringe so bad at this prompt or really like it 😁 also I cannot sleep it’s almost 2am 😪😢

It’s has been only a couple of months ever since Charlie brought you in to stay and work at the Hazbin Hotel, and let’s say you felt home sweet home.

Even though you were still adjusting to the new place over all, it was definitely better than staying with roommates who wouldn’t even pay for their part of the rent, you were scrolling on your phone, slightly tilted to the couch arm. You were bored out of your mind, you finished all your tasks, and it didn’t look like the others needed help with their jobs. You couldn’t help but think about a special someone in mind, Alastor.

At first, you and Alastor seemed to hate each other, but the more you both got to know each other, it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. You put down your phone on your side and turned it off, thinking deeper. Of course, he’s such a tease with his sinister smile of his, but you thought it was charming.

When you were done thinking about this ‘deer’ of yours, you felt a pair of eyes on you. You looked around to see if anyone was there except for husk because obviously he was working at the bar, but nobody else to be seen. You shrugged it off. As you were about to switch apps, someone had snatched your phone out of your hands, it was Alastor.

“I already told you my dear, no phones allowed in this hotel.” He held your phone with his two fingers, like it was something disgusting or smelly. You sighed while looking up at Alastor, as it was already the fifth time this week he had done this. He took your phone, gave you a lecture, and then make it disappear. “Why do you care so much? Plus how long have you been watching me? I thought you were up in your radio tower.” You said as you stood up, crossing your arms.

Alastor was slightly stunned for you to know how he was watching you from afar, as your secret admirer it was kind of hard to keep it in. “Well dear, we don’t want the V’s to get to us y’know, plus your eyes are glued to it, why not focus your eyes on me instead?” He tilted your head to look up at him. You slightly gulped with nervousness, but shook it off immediately.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go to my room, bye Al.” You scoffed as you sat up, walking to your own room. Alastor watched you walk away, sighing once out of his sight. He didn’t mean to make you annoyed at him, but it was just the honest truth.

You were obviously tired of Alastor doing this. As you slammed your door behind you, you plopped down on your soft bed, groaning in your pillow. You turned your head to the side to look at your clock on your bedside, with a picture of you and the others hanging out with each other, and having genuinely good time. You picked it up and smiled at it, and put the picture frame back.

After a few hours, you heard a knock on your door. You turn your head to ask, “Who is it?” No response. You sigh and open the door , you look down to see a little gift box. You pick it up and turn around, still having the door opened. You look at the tag that says, ‘From Alastor’ You smile at it, opening the box to see a letter and your souvenir.

You open the letter to read,

To my dearest,

I apologize for taking your phone, again.. I’m just saying all this and that because I don’t want the V’s to ruin the hotel, I hope you understand.. I let a souvenir for you so it hopefully distracts you from your electronic.

-Alastor

You smiled warmly again and hugged the souvenir and letter, appreciating it. You felt a pair of warm hands wrap around you from the back, making you stunned. Alastor snuggled his head into your neck, his smile cracking a little. He muttered, “I’m sorry, I hope you can forgive me” and snuggled closer, tightening his grip. You never seen him like this before, after all he was the Radio Demon.

“I forgive you.”

Pecking his cheek.

AGGHHHHH THIS IS SCTUALLY SO CUTEE

[mrchiipchrome]

You Always Go To The Parties

W.C. - 5.7 k

okay so this is the project i've been working on for a little, hope y'all like it:) (also listen to American Wedding by Frank Ocean while y'all read this.)

To clarify, this is a lionesses x r series too, but this is literally just the chapter of introduction so that we can get to know the characters.

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

“Do I really have to go? I can’t even drink legally here.” You groan, there was nothing stopping you from collecting your things and getting the hell out of that apartment in Boston, well except the manners instilled in you from an early age. There was nothing you’d like more than to crawl up in bed and sleep for the next few weeks.

No way Emma would let you do that. 

The sophomore defender had been one of the only people that had come back to college early, having been asked to show you around the campus and the facilities. She had quickly taken you under her wing, which meant that she wouldn’t let you sulk in bed the rest of August.

Brown cardboard boxes filled to the brim with different things, ranging from clothes to knick knacks, were stacked to the ceiling in the otherwise empty apartment. You didn’t mind, clearly, but it bothered Em.

You tuck your hands behind your head, staring up at the ceiling from your mattress that was placed directly on the floor. Your button up had the first few buttons undone, the top of your chest displayed for Em to see, you had even put your fancy trousers on for the stupid party you didn’t even want to attend.

“Yes, you really have to. How else do you expect to make friends, your cute British accent will only get you that far, you actually need to put in some effort okay?” Rolling your eyes at her words, you were quickly made to get up off the makeshift bed, getting pushed towards the door.

“But-” 

“No buts, you are going because I need someone to drive me home when I’m black out drunk tonight, you don’t want me to drink and drive right?” You can’t help but contemplate over her words, feeling the girl’s hand come down on your shoulder harshly. 

Clearly she didn’t like that.

“I mean you could just, I don't know…not drink?” She looks at you like she’s disgusted you’d even think about saying something like that, like she has to drink.

“Wow, it really is obvious your parents are rich.” You lock the door up as you look at her through the corner of your eye, a slightly judgemental look in your eyes.

Your parents were rich, but they didn’t spoil you so you weren’t one of those snobby rich kids, you were just like anyone else. Only you had access to more money than most.

“Shut up.” Emma puts her hands up in the air, like she’s surrendering to you, but you see the way she’s smiling slyly at you. Note to self; don’t get defensive when Em brings up your rich parents.

“You know, I could use a new Gucci bag if you want to contact daddy dear.” She looks up at you pleadingly as you make your way to her car, there was no way you’d use your car, it was far too expensive to be left outside a frat house. You really had to get a more beat up one.

Maybe you’d sell it, and donate the money you got for it to charity. 

“Aw, we’re taking my car?” Em whines, clearly she wanted to take your cool car.

“Aw, I’m not leaving my really expensive car outside of a frat house for hours.” You roll your eyes at her almost like she’s stupid, throwing her the keys so that she could drive, you didn’t even know where it was you were going.

“You know, you are really sassy for being a rich kid.” Em pulls out of the garage, the apartment complex you were living in was just off campus, so near that you walked there every day for pre-pre-season training (absolutely destroying Em every single time without fail).

“Yeah well, I grew up in the public education system in London, so that’s where I get it from.” You look on as the girl in the driver’s seat taps her fingers against the steering wheel, waiting for the red light to turn green.

“Really, I would’ve thought that they had you in private school from the second you popped out.” The green light stands out against the quickly darkening sky, starless and rather bleak, but that’s what you get for living in a big city.

“Nope, they wanted me to have a normal childhood, so here I am.” You motion to yourself, feeling the bumps and dips of the road beneath you, damn potholes.

“I mean fair enough right.” A certain quietness envelops the space between the two of you, it wasn’t uncomfortable, just present without any real purpose.

Your eyes slip shut, with Em turning the radio on, playing soft instrumental music like you weren’t in the middle of Boston where most people prefer hip hop and bubblegum pop. That was probably the biggest culture shock you'd been given so far, the music.

At home it was different, in a neutral way. It was neither better nor was it worse, but it was simply different.

You sink into your seat, the cool air blasting across your skin in that refreshing way, the summer’s heat canceled out by the air coming from the car. Slowly, sleep starts to take over your body in that calming sort of way that you’d wished for earlier.

It had only felt like moments since you’d fallen asleep as Em shakes your shoulders to get you to wake up, the pulsing music coming from the frat house a walking distance away already making your ears hurt. You look around at the surrounding nature, it wasn’t familiar to you, not the trees you’d found yourself memorizing nor the architecture present in Boston.

Even the people looked different, shirts with the printing of a dog on the front instead of the three books representing Harvard. Stupid of you to assume that Em would be rational for once.

“Where are we Em?” You ask, voice riddled with a sleepy kind of innocence that suggested that not everything had registered yet.

“We are in Connecticut, home of the huskies and what might be the best parties you’ll ever experience.” Your eyes shoot open wide, a more than flabbergasted look on your face at her naïve words.

“You kidnapped me and then drove me all the way to Connecticut for a party we could just as well have found in Boston?!” You ask her incredulously, like you couldn’t really believe her. And you couldn’t.

“Yeah, technically I did but you’ll also get to experience the party of your lifetime, so I think that it’s fine.” She tries to justify her actions by trying to reason with you, and whilst it doesn’t work in the way she wishes, Emma’s just happy you’re not totally freaking out.

“Come on grumpy, let’s go. Who knows, you might even have some fun.” Em pulls you along towards the house spewing flashing lights in a hundred different colors.

You let your eyes adjust to the blinking lights as you enter through the open front door, seeing the entire bottom floor of the mansion-like house covered with hundreds of students, packed together tightly like a sweaty sardine can.

The house reeks of bad body wash, moldy pits and strong cheap alcohol, and in a sense of the word Em really did tell the truth, you’d never seen anything like it before. It was almost like those frat boys couldn’t afford to buy deodorant.

If your arm wasn’t as firmly attached to your body as it was, you were sure that Emma would’ve torn it off by now, the resistance of the sweaty bodies pushing against your own as she leads you to the kitchen proving to be a difficult task for her weak arms.

Reaching the entrance of the large kitchen, the first thing you notice is that it’s not as tightly packed as the living room, only a few stragglers here and there with the stereotypical red solo cups can be found in every single person’s hand. Future alcoholists.

 “Okay, base rules since you’ve never been to a college party before, don’t take a drink from anyone you don’t know, don’t accept anyone’s request to go upstairs or somewhere private, you’ll most likely get robbed, don’t be too snarky, people don’t appreciate that and… I think that’s all. Have a nice night!” And with that she’s off to the living room, plucking a cup from a random man’s hand and taking a sip before leading him to the dance floor.

Yeah, base rules or whatever.

Standing alone in the kitchen, you suddenly feel so awkward. The only real parties you’d been to were the one’s your friends threw when your parents were away on their stupidly long business trips, just the chaotic friend group drinking together.

So this, college parties, was something that was totally out of your comfort zone and you’d never hated anyone as much as you hated Em right at that moment.

Spotting a boy out of the corner of your eye, you approach him with confident, yet still relatively hesitant steps, a question at the tip of your tongue. He looks up at you when you’re close enough to smell the odor of old spice deodorant and way too much sweat, his hat turned backwards on his head to hide the greasy hair still somehow poking its way through.

You almost feel bad for the poor thing, well that is until his mouth opens and you’re staring into the hell that is a frat boy’s gob. 

“‘Sup dude, what can I do for you?” His eyes run all along your body, from your ankles up to your face where he notices the annoyed expression.

“I was wondering if you had anything non alcoholic.” You smile staley, eyebrows furrowing together when his eyes light up like a kid on christmas. His laugh feels slightly insulting, especially when his hand comes up to point at you, but there’s really not a lot you could do.

“Dude totally, say the thing though.” You look at him confused, like you didn’t know what he meant. Spoiler alert; you did. “Y’know bo'ohw'o'wo'er.” 

He laughs again when you roll your eyes, and even if all you desire is to punch his stupid face in, you still say the phrase. Was it worth it for a coke? Eh, debatable.

He opens the fridge and throws you the can and laughs once more at your dirty look.

Sipping the drink slowly as you make your way around the house, the UConn students around you stare unashamedly at you, like they knew your face from somewhere, but you weren’t familiar per se. 

Your face scrunches up at the metallic taste of the American coke, much preferring the Mexican one they had in the canteen. You couldn’t complain too much though, you were the one who actually let yourself get dragged to the party.

It’s sudden, the way her eyes catch yours. Deep pools of endearing brown that capture your entire soul in a single second. The girl was mesmerizing as she stood leaning against the wall across from you, her long brown hair falling so effortlessly down her back.

Her gaze is just focussed on you for a second or two, her attention soon being stolen by the man standing in front of her, a sleazy smirk on his face as his eyes ran all along her body. It was clear that she was uncomfortable purely by the way her lips were turned downwards and the way her hands fiddled with the hem of her crop top.

There seems to be a lull in their one sided conversation as she looks to you almost pleadingly, getting the hint almost immediately, you walk over with confident steps, dropping the now empty can on the floor on the way.

The man is almost as tall as you, his burly shoulders disproportionate to the rest of his awkward body, his meaty hands gripping the red cup tightly like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. His hooded eyes do a once over when he spots you nearing them, almost turning a green pale at the sight of you.

You don’t understand why, there was no way you knew him and being recognised as Harvard’s newest addition would be unlikely. Especially in Connecticut.

“Everything alright here?” The girl seems startled by your accent, but she quickly schools her features so as to not show her surprise. Her hands wrap around your waist, and when you look down at her she looks back up at you with pleading eyes, asking you to just go along with it for the time being.

Your arm wraps around her shoulders and she leans into your body almost subconsciously, like you’ve known each other for much longer than you have.

“Yeah, everything’s going good.” He says, not backing down despite having been nervous at your mere presence only seconds before.

“Really? Because from where I stood it looked like you were flirting with my girlfriend.” You don’t even get the satisfaction of watching his gummy smile fade from his thin lips as he takes in your words, because he walks away from you before you can see it.

It makes you chuckle, especially since he walks up to another girl almost immediately, getting turned down in the same second.

“You okay?” You question the girl in your arms, her hand still resting on your waist as you take her in. You can feel her hair against your arm, her nails digging into your skin ever so slightly and the rest of her body pressed so tightly against your own.

“Yeah, he just wouldn’t leave me alone, thank you for the help.” She smiles at you sweetly, her brown eyes shining under the flashing lights. You smile back at her softly, noticing the way her grip loosens, you quickly let up on your grip of her shoulders.

Her unsure steps catch your attention as she takes your hand in her soft one, just like Em had done earlier in the evening.

“Where are you taking me?” You laugh through the sentence as she tries to pull you through the crowd of people, stumbling over her feet clumsily every so often.

“Do you like burgers?” She questions hastily, nearly having pulled you all the way to the front door already, she was a lot stronger than Em that’s for sure.

"Doesn't everyone?” You smile goofily when she looks back at you, her eyes narrowed playfully when you send her a wink. It’s only when you’re already out the door that you realize that Em is still in there, with people you don't know. Strangers.

You stop walking, the girl’s hand still in yours as she too stops, looking back at you confused.

“I’m sorry but my friend, Em, is still in there and I don’t want to leave her alone with strangers.” Her eyes light up again and you look at her weirdly, not understanding why she looked so happy that you had to leave.

“Em Whitmore?” She giggles at the shocked look on your face, clearly you didn’t know much about Em, the girl thinks to herself. You look at her suspiciously, how did she know Em?

“Yeah…how’d you know?” You ask her, still suspicious of her pretty intoxicated form. Her laugh carries all throughout the empty night, no one out and about except you and the mystery girl who’s soft hand is still in yours.

“I know her brother, she comes to a lot of parties here, because she knows she’ll be safe.” The brunette starts pulling you along again and you let yourself follow her, no longer worried about your Harvard counterpart. Her brother wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

By the time you reach the 50’s themed diner, you’ve already walked for ten minutes, side by side with the dark haired girl. You’re lucky that it wasn’t too far away, the half stumbling girl beside you probably wouldn’t have been able to walk that far without falling over.

The bell at the top of the door chimes when she pushes it open, the bored looking cashier perking up when he sees your companion. It was empty in the diner and you couldn’t imagine that keeping it open for this long wasn’t only for the drunk college students looking for a quick snack.

She drags you over to a booth in the corner, decorated in red and white stripes, a glass with straws standing in the middle of the table with a napkin holder beside it.

“Welcome to Donna’s Diner, what can I get for you?” The boy from the counter comes up to the booth after you’ve both settled, handing the two of you plastic menus. The dark haired girl smiles up at him, that fantastic glint in her eye once more.

“Come on now Alex, no need to be all professional.” You look up at him from where you’re sitting, his blonde hair curling around his ears, green eyes staring into yours kindly, thin fingers clasping the small notebook in his hands.

“Alex, this is my new friend, she knows Callum’s little sister, mystery friend, this is Alex and he’s in one of my classes.” You smile at him softly, sticking your hand out for him to shake, and he does take it in a confident grip, sending you a smile of his own.

“I’m Y/n.” Now the mystery girl looks up at you, finally a name attached to your face.

“Nika, I already know what you want, but how about you?” He looks to you when he speaks, obviously you wouldn’t know what to order, it being your first time there and all.

“I’ll just have whatever she’s having with a chocolate milkshake.” Alex disappears behind the counter again, your eyes following his retreating form. Looking away from the kitchen door, your eyes quickly meet the ones of the girl you now know as Nika.

One of her hands was tucked under her chin, keeping her head up in order to look at you. Relaxing into the cushions behind you, the small smile slowly taking over your face suddenly becomes full blown.

“What is it?” She giggles under her breath at your inquisitive look, and despite not knowing much more than her name, you already felt like she knew your soul inside and out.

“Nothing…it’s just that this is the last place I would’ve thought that you would bring me to.” The furrow in her brow is frankly quite adorable, her head turning to the side just in time to catch Alex walking out the kitchen with your food. 

You see the way her eyes light up again, the platter of pure greasy goodness at the center of her attention right at that moment. All you could think about at that second was how thankful you were that the season hadn’t started yet, because everything there broke every single diet you could think of.

Looking to the brunette, the laugh bubbling up from the pit of your stomach is almost one of wonder, because the beautiful girl had already managed to get through half the burger that was in front of her. It seemed like her intoxicated brain only was focussed on one thing, satiating her hunger.

It isn’t long until you follow her lead, picking up the burger and just trying to get the most you could of it in your mouth. You can’t help the groan that escapes you when the exquisite flavours hit your taste buds all at once, having to lean back into the cushions of the booth to be able to take it all in, closing your eyes fully to enhance the experience even further.

It’s only when she laughs that you finally open your eyes again, only to see her looking right at you like you were made of glass, like she could read you like a book and then play you like a fiddle.

“I understand, I had the exact same reaction when I tried it.” She continues to giggle at you when you start to eat like a poor man starved. It was a funny sight to be fair, the way your fancy act completely disappears when in contact with amazing food.

“How’d you even find this place?” You question her when you’ve swallowed and wiped your mouth off with a napkin, you still had manners after all. She smiles at you, gesturing at your surroundings, at the tables and the booths, the chairs and the ketchup bottles, at everything.

“I was drunk after a party once in freshman year and I just stumbled across it.” You nod in response, completely understanding the randomness of how she’d found the place. When you’re drunk, all you want is some greasy food.

“So it’s a well guarded secret between the students then? I assume there’s usually more people here at this time of night.” You take a sip of the milkshake when the last word has fallen from your lips, heat spreading across your face at the intense look you’re getting from the brunette in front of you.

It’s probably just because she’s drunk, you think quietly to yourself, almost trying to convince your mind that the stupidly attractive smile on her face was just one of momentary value, that it was only because it was late and you were tired that it affected you in the way it did.

“Yeah, something like that.” She responds, a comfortable silence enveloping you two as you continue to eat.

The only thing that could be heard was the murmur of the fan across the room, the patting of the fingers of the boy, Alex, at the counter and the sound of shallow breathing. Well that was until her accented voice breaks it with a question.

“So, how’d you manage to befriend the girl with the scariest brother ever?” Nika asks you, her fingers playing with the napkin she’d taken only moments before. Her teeth capture her bottom lip softly as she looks at you tentatively, she’s positively driving you nuts with her pure unfiltered beauty.

“Well, for starters we both play football for Harvard, but she was the first one there to greet me, to help me pack up the necessities and all that. She never did mention a brother though.” You relish in the way she looks at you, all flustered and sweet despite you not having done anything in particular. It was adorable. Pause.

She nods absentmindedly, opening her mouth to speak before closing it and then opening it again, resembling a fish out of water more than anything.

“Were you going to say something love?” You ask the now blushing girl, and she hides her face in her hands at the embarrassment, clearly having zoned out for a little while there.

Reaching over, you pat her shoulder comfortingly before you ask her your next question.

“How about you? How do you know Em’s brother?” Nika reaches over the table to steal a few of your fries, laughing at the betrayed look on your face.

Maybe it was the drinks or maybe you were just funnier than you’d originally thought, either way the angelic sound of her laughing had graced your ears many times that evening. Not that you minded, you didn’t even mind a little bit.

“He plays basketball, I play basketball, and sometimes we train together.” You can’t help the feeling taking over you, the burning feeling that makes you question everything you’d ever known about yourself. Just the thought of your friend’s brother getting to enjoy her company makes the feeling inside you that much worse.

 It seems like she sees the way your expression changes just that little bit before it goes back to normal.

“So, you’re like…close?” You ask the basketball player timidly, rolling your eyes only seconds later when the brunette decides to take a sip of your milkshake.

“No, not especially close. I mean, we talk when we have to at the shared training sessions, but not outside of it. But realistically though, who in the world of college sports doesn’t know Callum Whitmore?” Looking at her cluelessly, you sarcastically shrug as if to say you, because you truly hadn’t known a single thing about the man before she had told you.

By the third time Nika reaches for your fries, you decide to just push them towards her and let her have them, you weren’t even hungry after the monster burger you’d just consumed. It wasn’t at all just because she was too pretty not to get whatever she wanted. Pause.

“You want to switch?” She gestures to your drinks, she’d gotten a strawberry milkshake that she didn’t seem to fancy all that much right at that moment. Sighing goodnaturedly, you give her a nod and allow her to take whatever was left of your shake, smiling softly as you sip absentmindedly at the pink shake she’d given you. 

Soon enough, the only thing that could be heard over the natural noise of the diner was the slight slurping every so often.

“I just got to go wash up, then I’ll walk you home, okay?” The brunette nods as she looks at you leaving, pulling out her phone to seemingly start to text someone not long after.

You walk up to Alex, who’s still standing at the counter and he smiles in your direction when you near, only seeing you out of the corner of his eye. Pulling out your wallet, you hold out your card to him.

“Could you do a to go order? God knows she’ll need that in the morning.” You nod your head in Nika’s direction, Alex smiling widely at you.

“You know, I’ve never seen her with you before…” His voice trails off, as if to tell you to fill in the blanks.

“Yeah, we only met tonight.” You smile at him staley, not understanding why the timeline of events was so important.

“You must be special then if she brought you here, it’s not often she brings anyone other than her friends here after a night out. Nico, drop me two burgers on the grill, one choc milkshake and a strawberry one.” As you walked towards the bathroom of the establishment, putting your card back in your wallet, you started to think about his words, wasn’t this place well known? What made it so special to Nika that the server had to point out how she never brought strangers there?

Wiping your hands off on your trousers, you go up to your table to collect Nika before swinging by the counter to pick up your to-go order, the brown paper bag looking out of place next to the two of you. It seems like she’s sobered up at least a little as she looks at you questioningly, her eyes soon falling to the bag in your hands and then back up at your face.

The bell chimes again when the two of you exit the diner, the cooling air of the late night a contrast to the warm atmosphere of the diner.

“What’s that for?” The furrow in her brow is so endearing that you almost feel the skip in your heartbeat, her eyes narrowing at you ever so slightly. Her arm threads through yours, one of your hands in the pocket of your trousers, creating the perfect space for her arm to go through.

You sneak a glance at her, flyaways being highlighted by the streetlights you were passing. Her head meets your shoulder as you start to walk back to the party, her apartment couldn’t be too far from it considering she hadn’t mentioned anything when you offered to walk her home.

“It’s for you, I just know that hungover Nika is going to crave Donna’s diner’s milkshakes to calm her raging headache.” You tease her softly, but there was definite truth there either way.

If there was one thing you knew about being hungover, then it was that good food usually helped at least a little (well, after the spells of throwing up everything from the previous night.) You give her a cheeky smile as you near the party once more, the booming music being heard from miles away. 

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” She speaks sincerely, you just smile at her in response, did you have to do it? No, but she’d kept you company all night so you did it anyway.

“Hey, can I just stop by my friend’s car before I walk you home? I just have to get something.” You were so thankful that you’d stolen the keys from Em before you went into the party only hours before. Leading her to the beat up truck, unlocking it and opening the door, you place the bag on the ground before you look through the glove compartment.

Finding the cartridge of painkillers and the pen that you were searching for with a small ‘aha’. The post-it notes Em always kept in her car finally came to use when you stole one, writing a quick message on it before sticking it to the plastic of the painkillers and dropping it down the brown paper bag.

You lock the car up, despite it being a piece of shit that no one would ever steal, Em always insisted on you locking it. 

Walking up to her side once more, you open your mouth to speak.

“So, lead the way home love.” You gesture for her to take the lead, it was her apartment after all. Taking your free hand in hers, the girl starts to lead you towards her apartment building, walking calmly side by side with your hands swinging between your bodies.

After passing countless trees, and even more cars, you suddenly find yourselves at the bottom of the slanted hill leading up to where she lives, and when you actually start to walk up the long walkway, it’s slowly almost like you’re both resisting the natural order of events.

But you had to leave her, both Em and Harvard were waiting for you and no matter how much you tried to resist, you knew that’s ultimately where you had to go, it was your life even if the girl you’d just met seemed far more interesting than anything.

When you reach the top, just meters away from the door, you hand her the bag, smiling timidly when she reached out to hug you, her inviting perfume enveloping you in a blanket of warmth. When she pulls away, she thanks you one last time for your kindness.

“Really, it’s no problem.” You reassure her, smiling softly when she turns back towards you one last time before the distance between you becomes larger and larger, her fingers soon punching in the code to open the door.

“Wait!” You call out for her right as she’s about to enter the building, her head turning back to you questioningly. ���Don’t forget to put it in the fridge when you get in.” She smiles and nods before disappearing behind the door.

You start your walk back to the party a few minutes after the door has closed, something just keeping you rooted to the ground. It wasn't until you heard your name get called by that familiar voice that you turned around, seeing Nika through her open window, waving at you as you walked away.

It almost felt like you were in some cheesy romance movie as you waved back, turning to walk away after she closed her window. 

Truth be told, the evening had felt like something straight out of a romcom and some part deep down loved it. It loved the cheesy moments of pure unbridled love, the ability to express yourself freely, to dance in the rain, be your true authentic self in front of someone else was something you didn’t even know you longed for before you met Nika.

You shove your hands into the pockets of your trousers, every step you take moving you closer and closer to the frat house, closer to Em and closer to getting back to Boston.

Seeing Em sitting out on the steps of the house has you confused, why was she out there?

“Em? What are you doing out here?” You ask the clearly incredibly intoxicated Emma, your loud voice not even startling her, her slow movements showing just how drunk she is. The squeal she lets out when she sees you has you covering your ears, the intrusive sound killing your tired head.

She tries to stand up, but it just looks like Bambi on ice, stumbling and falling at every second. You come up and sling her arm around your shoulder, bringing her over to her car and sitting her down in the passenger seat.

“I’m not cleaning up if you throw up in here, just so you know.” She nods drunkenly, clearly not understanding a word you were saying.

“The reason why I was sitting outside is a long story.” She leans her head against the window, and knowing Em, she was probably imagining herself in a music video right at that moment.

“You can tell me tomorrow.” The car starts with a rumble and you pull out of the parking space on the side of the road, quickly pulling out and starting to drive on the main road.

It’s quiet for a while and you almost believe that Emma’s asleep, well almost since her feet move back and forth against the floor every so often.

“Where were you huh? What were you doing?” Her words are incredibly slurred and you can barely make out what it is she’s trying to say.

“None of your business mate.” She snickers at you, reading way too much into your response than she should have.

“You got some.” The way your face turns red doesn’t help your case even in the slightest, especially when she herself points out your reddening cheeks.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Em.” Your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, still embarrassed by her insinuation.

“Mhm, you totally got some pussy.” You sigh as she laughs again, she was clearly getting a lot more joy from the situation than you were.

“Go to sleep Em.”

“Mhm.”

Maybe she had been right after all, maybe you had fun and maybe, just maybe the decision to go to the party was a good one. Not that you’d ever let her know that.

[prinzrupprecht]

When someone else gives you gifts

Featuring: Tesla, Apollo, Qin, and Thor ( part 1 )

You can also read Part 2 and part 3 for more characters

CW: mostly fluff and jealousy. Yandere tendencies with some of them

Tesla

He came home from a long day of work expecting you to be asleep but he noticed you on the couch reading a book. “Why are you awake? You didn’t have to wait for me.” He was right, it was nearly midnight while you waited for him.

He was very into his research and his passion for science sometimes made you question your insanity as to why you fell for this man if science was more important than you— his partner.

“Oh, I did? I guess I was too into this book. Also, thanks for the flowers hun.” You walked over to him and raised your toes to kiss him on his nose. He looked at you with confusion. Flowers? He didn’t get you flowers.

“Flowers? I didn’t get you any,” he felt bad when he saw the large bouquet on the table. Did someone give these to you? An unknown feeling formed in his chest.

Quickly he walked over to it and grabbed them tossing them in the trash. “Hey! Why did you do that?!” You shouted angrily but he stopped you from taking them out of the trash.

“We’ll plant a whole garden of roses, besides…” he grabbed your waist.

“I prefer if other men didn’t give you such things when I am the only one that has that privilege,” he kept you close while your heart was racing in your chest. A whole garden? You liked the sound of that instead.

Apollo

He noticed it right away. The new necklace that you were wearing. “This is new.” He lifted the chain up with one finger, but he knew it was a stupid question. You most likely found it in the pile of jewelry he has given you over the years.

You were dumbfounded at first and looked down at the necklace. “One of your followers… he— he gave it to me as a gift,” you stuttered. There was a long pause between you two before he clipped the necklace off.

Apollo didn’t like the idea of another giving you luxury things. He was trying to keep calm but he laughed while holding the necklace in between a few of his fingers while holding it up over his head.

“A cheap thing like this? I could give you anything you want," Apollo pulled you closer to him with his arms tugging around your small body. You knew you were trapped with him and he wouldn’t let go. Was he afraid that someone would steal you away from him? Nobody could steal you away from him. More so you used to be jealous of his herd of women and used to ignore him. He took more interest in you than the other way around in the beginning.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I— I won’t accept any more gifts from your followers.” Apollo liked hearing that as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

With you being his only beloved, he would be the only one to give you things. Was he jealous? He wouldn’t admit if he was. He believed that jealousy was a disgusting trait and nothing beautiful about it.

With you in his arms, he deeply sighed dramatically. “Now my dear, go put on something nice that was from me this time.” his lips were near your ears as his breath tickled down your spine. Without any hesitation, you nodded happily to your beloved before retreating to go back to your shared room.

Qin Shi Huang

You knew Qin as a child because of your affiliation with Chun Yan who introduced you two. You were treated like a daughter to her but she wasn’t your biological mother. You treated Ying as everyone else and not some creepy kid that everyone thought he was. Over time this made him fall for you and ask you to stay with him even after Chun Yan died.

Fast forward to the present as Qin Shi Huang— also known as Ying Zheng became king as he promised to Chun Yan. You still were by his side even when other nobles offered their daughters to him as concubines or an arranged marriage, he dismissed them all. Normally jealousy filled you and you thought there was no chance for a commoner like you could be his empress.

As you wandered the halls of his palace, you ran into one of the young maids who told you she had something for you. It was a very fine patterned robe that only nobles were granted to wear. “I can’t wear this, it’s forbidden for someone like me to—” she cut you off by telling you that it was fine and Qin said so. Qin?! Were you going to believe her? Did she have some ulterior motive? You reluctantly tried it on. It was dark red with flowers on it. The maid wasn’t around which was odd. Your former clothes were gone as well. Huh?!

You found the main hall looking for your room to possibly change, but Qin noticed you even with his blindfold on. Thank god he can’t see you with the noble robe on, right? “There you are, you had me worried for a minute.” He grabbed your arm but that was a mistake. He felt the expensive silk of the robe. The sleeves were long so of course he knew what kind of material you were wearing.

“Oh? It’s not like you to be wearing such a thing.” He chuckled before a smile appeared on his lips. He wasn’t mad?!

“Your maid told me to wear it and said that you were fine with it, but she left and took my clothes…” you frowned but Qin was more upset that someone was trying to get you in trouble. He could never get mad at you. You were too pure and kind. You had accepted him for who he is and stood by his side.

“Now tell me who it was, I’ll make sure she’ll get punished later.” You wanted to object but you can’t because he was your king. You nodded and felt bad that the maid would most likely lose her job. He still held onto you even though you were shaking a bit. He told you to wear more of those robes since they look good on you. Even just hearing him say that brought a bubbly feeling in your heart.

Thor

You were again stuck inside the Asgard palace bored again… The entire city was nearly destroyed by titans and many civilians were rebuilding their homes and businesses. You looked out of the window and spotted Forseti talking to a few of the officials. You loathed the man, he didn’t do anything during the invasion and only worried about Thor.

A knock was heard from your room, you had expected that Thor had returned but then you remembered he doesn’t knock. You grumbled a lowly come in and of course, Loki was at the door looking smug than ever. “The hell do you want?” You frowned, why would you ever be so hopeful that Thor would free his time up for you? You two weren’t even married either but acted like it. Odin had tried to forbid any relationship between you two, but Thor didn’t obey that order.

“Why so snarky? I just wanted to come to check up on my future sis-in-law,” he mocks that last part since the marriage thing was off the table. You didn’t say anything. Was he here to try to make you angry?

He quickly changed the subject and pulled out a small doll he made. “I made this, it does look like you, right? Here take it,” he put it next to you. It sort of creeped you out but you kept quiet. Were you terrified? Maybe.

“Why are you making voodoo dolls?” You detested the plushie and hoped Thor would come back sooner.

“Who said it was for that kind of sorcery? It’s just a gift! I swear!” Loki was faking his emotions while you quietly mumbled ‘whatever’ and reluctantly accepted it while holding the doll as he took his leave. What a weird guy…

Hours had passed by as you fell asleep on the couch but you had awoken to someone moving you. “You’re back?” You looked up to see Thor holding you with both of his arms. His expression wasn’t calm like usual. He seemed irritated. Did something happen?

“Mhm…” he was quiet but you saw how different his expressions were than usual.

“He came here when I was gone,” he grabbed the doll that was next to you squeezing it so hard that the head of the doll popped off. How his cousin was gifting you such things. Creepy things. Thor wanted to beat sense to him but held back his anger.

“Sorry, I didn’t know what he would do if I rejected it.” You frowned but Thor's left hand touched your cheek as you stared up at him. He genuinely smiled.

“He won’t hurt you… I’ll make sure of it.” The reassurance you wanted the most as you buried your face in his chest. You just wanted his comfort and nothing else.

Note: no eta when part 2 will come but if I do another it’ll probably be Susano’o, Buddha, Loki and Anubis. Edit: I forgot about Poseidon. So probably 5 characters for part 2.

[viivenn]

making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

[tenroses07]

My final thoughts on the neil gaiman allegations;

Do I believe the women?: Yes. While I do find it still a bit odd that there’s missing context, I think that’s a fault of the podcast and not the fault of the women. I hope that they come forward to more reputable news sources and give their stories fully soon.

Do I think this is a right wing conspiracy: Yes and no. I do not think all of this is one big lie, but I do think the journalism here is clearly biased and I do not think these women’s stories would’ve been aired if they (the journalists) did not believe there would be any political gain. I do believe that it could be possible that tortoise media is trying to slander those who have worked with him. I do not blame the women for this.

Do I still wish to see more proof?: Of course. I think it’s possible to believe victims while also still wishing to see more proof. It’s important to be critical still, but once again this does not mean that it’s okay to say these women are lying because you haven’t seen proof.

Do I think any fandoms for media he created should interact with him again?: No. He clearly has a record of abusing his position of power, and I do not think any fans should interact with him again for the sake of their own safety. This includes on any social media. If he returns to being online, don’t send asks or react to them. Don’t return power to him.

Do I think anyone who was worked with him is obligated to come out with their reactions immediately?: No. It’s entirely possible the news hasn’t made it to them yet. It’s also entirely possible that they could be still processing things after working personally with him. If we as fans are shocked in disgusted, then imagine how those who have worked with him feel. Do not condemn them for speaking out immediately, they have lives too.

Do I think you can still watch his shows?: I feel mixed about this personally. I think it’s a better idea to 🏴‍☠️, but I also understand he is not the only person who worked on these shows. 🏴‍☠️ing affects more than him, so personally I don’t see a problem with watching his shows as long as you condemn him.

Do I think you can still read his books: Yes, but it’s a bit different here. I do not think people should be buying his books now. If you want to own them, buy second hand. If you don’t mind reading online, then 🏴‍☠️. I wouldn’t really recommend checking them out at a library as that still does give him support since the library could decide to purchase more of his books.

Do I think you can enjoy media he’s worked on or created without supporting him as person?: 1000%. His actions and alleged perversions do not translate into any of his work from what I’ve seen. I think it is 100% possible to separate him from his media in this case, especially with Good Omens and his shows.

Do I think you should burn/trash your books or media by him?: I don’t see a point, but I understand why someone may want to do this. Everyone is angry and upset, and if you want nothing to do with his works anymore that’s 100% valid. I just personally don’t see a point since they’ve already been purchased, and unless you bought them recently and can return them, you’re not taking any money away from him. If you don’t want to keep his books anymore, I’d suggest donating them to a thrift store or a library.

Edit: I wanted to add a section here about the relationships he had with these women since I didn’t really mentioned it before, so here (TW FOR SA);

While the relationships themselves were consensual for the most part (besides the two allegations of SA) I still do not think they were right to be had. The power imbalance and age gaps are gross. They’re not illegal, but morally they’re incorrect in my opinion. I know one of these women was a fan of his, and I believe he took advantage of that. And im also pretty sure he was 40 years older than her at the time. That’s gross.

As for neil’s current response as featured in the article, I don’t think he’s telling the truth. He admits to having relationships with those women, which adds to fact that I believe he’s not a good person for having those relationships already where he clearly was the one in power. The false memories claim could have some nuance to it (it’s possible that it could be something that happens to that woman without it being stated on medical records) but I personally believe it’s an excuse on his end, true or not.

Of course, continue to be kind to each other online. Don’t berate those who are upset and confused, and don’t berate the victims either. For those who believe it’s still all a lie, you have no reason to believe he wouldn’t be capable of any of this. You don’t know him. He doesn’t know you. I urge you to rethink everything about this situation and take some time to process it on your own. Denying everything is not the way to go about this.

I believe that’s everything I have to say. If you read all this, I appreciate this. If you think my wording is odd in some places or if it seems I said something I didn’t mean, please let me know. I’m writing this all on a bit of whim so I can put my thoughts out there instead of keeping it all inside. Thanks again, and stay safe

[twoelectrichearts]

Not even surprised at the way some people are acting right now with using the death of a celebrity to wish death upon Noah. The fact that it’s by people who consider themselves “humanitarians” is beyond laughable. This is exactly why I don’t take them seriously. The majority of them are fake and performative and don’t even realize how narcissistic, racist, bigoted, antisemitic, etc. they actually are. The people that accuse Noah of being a vile, hateful person who makes jokes out of people dying really need to take a look in the mirror. They won’t, though. They’ll keep living in their hypocrisy and believe that they’re such amazing, moral people when they’re the total opposite. You know what true humanitarians would want? Peace for EVERYONE. Not just certain groups of people, certain countries, certain religions, certain ethnicities, certain races, certain genders, etc.. It seems like that’s a crazy statement to say right now, which is beyond sad. Call me crazy, but I don’t think genuinely good people would harass, bully, threaten, and torment someone in person or online. Celebrity or not. Because believe it or not, celebrities are human beings just like me and you. They can read whatever you put on the internet about them. You don’t like them? Fine. The block button is right there to use. It’s extremely easy to use it, just a click or two. There’s tons of celebrities and people I don’t like. So what do I do about them? Oh yeah, block them! I don’t leave them hate comments, because what is that going to do? Nothing. And even if I don’t like them, part of me still feels guilty for the idea of leaving them a hateful message directly or indirectly. I don’t even truly know them to begin with. Seriously, just block or ignore. You don’t like or agree with what I say or believe in? Do us both a favor and block and ignore me! Because that means I also don’t agree with you. It’s a win for the both of us. I’d rather leave kind, supportive messages to people and celebrities that I like than put my energy and focus into being hateful towards celebrities and people that I don’t like. If someone with mental health issues gets triggered by something that I say about them and does something that they can’t undo, I don’t want to be responsible for them harming themselves or worse. That’s why I just block and ignore. Even if I don’t like them. Shocking to some of you, I know. As someone who struggles with mental illness, I know I wouldn’t be able to handle all the hateful, disgusting, abusive messages that Noah and so many other celebrities get. There’s no way I’d be able to deal with it. If I know I wouldn’t be able to handle it, why would I do it to others? Makes no sense.

Leaving kind messages to people and celebrities I like brings me joy. It makes me happy knowing that something I said can help someone feel better if they’re having a rough time. Leaving a hateful message instead wouldn’t make me feel good at all. I guess that works for some people, not for me, though. Again, the people you leave messages to will see them. Sometimes you might even get a reply. Just remember that when you’re sending a message to someone. Celebrity or not.

[acerathia]

equilibrium || Aventurine

Summary:

Aventurine found you by chance, and kept you. Yet, was he any better than the others vying for you?

Wordcount: 4.7k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Aventurine / Slave!Mermaid!Reader

Tags/CW:

slave reader, implicit trauma, mentions of gambling and human trafficking, slight spoilers for Aventurine's backstory, Hopeful Ending, maybe slightly ooc

Note:

I wrote this for mermay, and for my bday, congrat to me, yippie!! also, unedited bc i rlly wanted to share edit: sequel - delirium

The bustling of the people surrounded Aventurine, the murmurs waves hitting against him with each step he took. Normally, he wasn’t someone to appear in such a place, much less participate in whatever activities they try to hide. His place was at a table, a couple chips in each pocket and luck to gamble on. 

Yet there he was, making his way towards the rendezvous point he was given on a crumpled piece of paper. And if this meeting weren’t so crucial for the plans he has built inside his mind, topping it with his inherent gift, he wouldn’t even be in such a place. A place reminding him too much of who he used to be. 

So, keeping a pace in his steps, he tried to hurry without giving the impression that he wanted to leave as soon as possible. 

Finally, arriving at the place he has been given direction to, the first thing Aventurine noticed was the stage, still empty, the curtains still closed. He almost frowned, but he caught himself, keeping his face relaxed with his usual smug smile. Instead of worrying about whatever was happening behind the stage, he turned to look for the person of interest. 

The moment he spotted them, he leisurely walked over, immediately taking a seat beside them, not caring if it belonged to somebody else, or if there were other free spaces available. He leaned back in his seat, resting his elbow on the edge of the back, as he turned to slightly face his opponent in this upcoming verbal gamble. 

But before he could prepare the bait onto his tongue, the lights dimmed and the curtains began to shift as they slowly revealed what was hiding behind it. And Aventurine wasn’t interested, not only that, he was outright disgusted, his neck itching but he refrained from even acknowledging the burn in his throat. 

Especially at the sight exhibited in front of the murmuring crowd, gasps simmering down to amazement. Their eyes glued to the tank posed in the middle of the stage. For a moment, Aventurine tried to reign himself in, to focus on his target, but watching said target not even glancing at him, he had to see for himself what could catch the mind of so many people with its simple appearance. 

The moment his eyes fixed themselves to the front, everything clicked into place. 

Because there you were, floating in the shallow water given to you, limp and listless. And while he normally wouldn't keep his eyes on such a spectacle for such a prolonged time any other time, too busy with too much work and gambling, this time he couldn't, as his eyes noticed something too familiar close to your collarbone. Something still red and swollen, something that made his skin burn with memory. 

He had to rip his eyes from the all too familiar sight, only to notice what had truly caught the attention of all these people. 

Despite the lack of movement, maybe especially because of the lethargy, the shine of the headlights sparkled off you. Because instead of the pair of legs someone would expect from a person getting sold, your bare skin tapered off into something similar to the skin of a fish. The scales glittered within the small waves of the water, the fins not even trying to hold you, still, lifeless, the same way your eyes just seemed to look through everything in front of you, mind in a faraway place, maybe even safe and sound. 

His eyes on yours, but there was nothing to meet. So, he looked away, trying to get his focus back onto his task at hand. But his target was too transfixed to be dealt any deals of his, so Aventurine decided to wait this out. He could be a patient man if it meant more profit in the future. 

So, he waited and watched. Watched as the price climbed, as hands shot out without any hesitancy. The price rose, unfurling, and he was not surprised, it was nothing but a spectacle after all. A show that went both ways. Who had more to give, more money, more possession, more desire. 

He flexed his fingers. Something hot running through them, making them cling uncomfortably to the skin of his gloves. And before he knew it, his hand was raised, if only for a moment, barely enough for the number to be called out. One that didn’t last any longer than it took for him to let his hand come back to clench against his thigh. A failure. Something he hadn’t experienced in some time. But he supposed that his luck, Gaiathra Triclops, was trying to tell him something, and he could do nothing but accept it. 

Without raising his hand again, without tearing his gaze away from you, catching the slight raise of your chest, the only sign of you being more than a glorified corpse. Even if you might as well be one in your state. 

He only listened, trying to understand what was being whispered between the ranks of the competitors, anything that could be used against them, any information that could prove itself useful. But as much as he tried to divert his attention, it always returned back to you, to you and that red shimmering in the water. 

In the end, the man by his side has won the battle of wealth, gaining the unspoken status, and you. And Aventurine finally got his gaze away from you, if only to finally face the task he was appointed, if only to flee this place as soon as he was done. 

Talk and gamble, a quick tongue and quicker hands, that was all he had, his luck aside, yet those were often more than enough. They had to, they were the only things that could never be truly ripped away from him, unlike the memories gaining a certain hazy quality the more he draped himself in luxury, the more often he was called by a different name. And those skills would always accompany him, even if they ripped everything away from him once again, leaving him bare and shivering, at their mercy. 

But at this point, Aventurine would rather disappear into the depths of the universe, back into Mother Fenge’s embrace, than to return to that state. But before it comes to that, he would continue using his skills, his life was one big gamble, and in the end, there will be only one winner, the same one as the loser. 

A twitch of his fingers, a substitute of shaking his head to regain his senses, as he could not afford to show any weaknesses. 

He faced the man, the one now owning you, and he began doing what he was best at. It didn’t take long until his task was wrapped around his finger, or rather in his debt, his being now transferred to the IPC, as they expected him to after this meeting. 

Only one thing did Aventurine decide to keep to himself, something that the IPC wasn’t aware of yet, and they would be, without doubt. Yet, he took that one thing to himself, as some form of payment of sorts. Jade would surely understand that he too desired… 

A shuddering breath escaped him the moment he stepped out of that glamorous space, leaving the excited shouts behind him, leaving the lingering ache behind him. Only taking two pieces of paper with him, one neat, kept in a folder, the other folded in his pocket, hidden for his eyes only, for as long as possible. 

He took a moment for himself, tucked into the shadows, to collect himself, to build the mask back up. The one he couldn’t afford to let crumble in front of anyone, not even himself. 

Pulling his shoulders back, he started making his way back to base, and to the only place he might ever call his own, not quite home, but something analogous. And it was more than enough. 

After delivering the papers, thus fulfilling the task assigned to him, he let himself take a step into the place belonging to him, if only in name. The inside of the small space was meticulously clean, no dust despite the little amount of time he actually spent in there. And despite its size, it remained impersonal, nothing alluding to the way Aventurine draped himself in luxury and secrets, almost like if one touch too much might lead to the doom of him. With the life he was leading, he could not afford to get attached, much less to an empty space, one carrying his name, but never truly his. 

He rid himself of his coat, slowly plucking the rings of his fingers to pile them up on a table, scratch marks the only indication of any use. And, for some reason, he decided to take a peek into the bathroom, only the necessities standing in a line, and the moment his eyes connected with the bathtub, a frown pinched between his brows. This was ridiculous. This whole idea was idiotic, and he should–

There was a knock on the door, startling him out of the bathroom. He was not expecting anyone, nobody should come to this place unless necessary. Yet, the knocks remained calm, no urgency in their rhythm. 

For a moment he was keen on ignoring whoever was in front of the door until they left eventually. But he was feeling tired, and he couldn’t know how long they would just keep knocking, and knocking, making noise without any consequences–

And he was already at the door, opening it. Whoever was waiting took their chances and just walked in, but not alone. There were a couple of people just storming this place, and then his eyes landed on the thing they were carrying in. 

A tank. 

A protest died on his lips as they left as fast as they came, not even an exchange of words, not to him, not between themselves. And as quickly he was all alone once again. 

Just, this time he wasn’t that alone anymore. The tank just stood in the middle of the room, taking some space, enough to be noticeable, but not that much to be much of a bother. The lid not allowing any sight into its contents, blocking any light from getting in simply by being a plate of black. 

The mere thought of being stuck in such a space, barely enough for someone to lie in, made his skin crawl. Aventurine was never one to feel any kind of claustrophobia, even if he did grow underneath the open sky, the wind on his skin, the ground steady under his feet, free to walk and turn and jump. But this tank, the mere thought of being stuck in the same stagnant place, nothing more than the necessary surrounding him, felt uncannily familiar, and he hated that. 

So, he shoved his fingers to find some kind of grasp underneath the edge of the lid, and once he had one, he pulled it off, almost throwing it away as it plopped away much easier than he would have expected. (Almost like they didn’t expect you to get away, but it didn’t take long for him to remember that you had no other choice, no way to get away no matter how much you tried, how much you might have wanted to.)

Fingers running through his hair, he looked down into the tank, to the content he was expecting, yet wished to be null and void. 

There was no gaze to meet, no eyes to see him as he peered into the water, the one barely covering you, barely enough, barely clean. Just enough to keep you alive, and the way the water seemed to be muddled and greasy made him uneasy. Or rather the memory of being kept just alive, being constantly threatened by the environment in itself, never secure, never safe. 

Abruptly, he stood up and walked over to the bathroom, only to stop at the doorway, darkness in front of him, the bathtub still where he had known it to be. A moment of hesitancy, before he shook himself out of it. For this moment he wasn’t sure if you would have wanted help, if you’d rather take another way, one Aventurine had considered often if not for the promise to his sister. Yet, he decided to pull through, you could still decide to decline whatever he may give you once you come back to your senses, if you ever do. 

After flicking on the light, he opened the faucet, allowing the water to slowly fill the water. During this process, Aventurine kept working, as he began to push the tank closer to the entrance of the bathroom. He didn’t know enough to just grab you and heave you into the water, you might not survive any longer periods out of it, jostling you might startle you, leading to some ugly trashing before he even would have the chance to get you close to the tub. And he’d like to avoid as many injuries, especially to his face, as much as possible, thank you very much. 

Once the tank was as close to the tub as physically possible, meaning it just laid there besides the door just outside, the bathroom too small for it, he shut the flow of the water, as the tub seemed full enough, almost dangerously full if you were to ask him. But those were details he didn’t have the concentration for. 

His focus laid entirely upon your prone body, as he tried to think of a way to lift you up without slipping through his fingers. He doubted he would be able to grab your arms and drag you to the tub, your tail seemed like most of your weight came from there, especially due to its sheer size. 

After rolling his sleeves up, and with no other choice in sight, he began sliding one of his arms underneath your shoulders, trying to stabilize your torso as his other arm slung over your tail, pressing it to himself to not lose grip. 

A breath and he straightened up, paying attention to not simply let you slip from his grasp, the water between the layers of skin a dangerous player. With quick steps he crossed the bathroom and as much he wanted to throw you in to get rid of the weight, he bowed to let you down slowly, his arms trembling. 

Your figure immersed itself immediately into the fresh water, and he thought he might have seen something flutter at the column of your neck. But he avoided looking in that general vicinity anyway, rather turning around to get rid of the tank, or at least to put it somewhere less restrictive. And then, then he had to see what he might do about your presence in his place, occupying his bathtub. 

***

It was way too early in the morning, and yet Aventurine was awake, at least that was what he tried to tell himself as he stumbled through the room towards the bathroom. If he had the possibility, he would have stayed in bed longer, yet work called and he did not want to neglect his alleged duties just yet. 

His hand tapped around the wall looking for the light switch as he stepped inside, expecting to be able to get through his morning routine as fast as possible.

But before the light illuminated the small space, his eyes caught sight of two reflective disks floating in the dark, turned towards him, and he took a surprised step back, ready to strike back against whatever was invading the place. 

His hand brushed the switch, and the light flooded the bathroom. Blinking, he tried to adjust faster to the sudden change. 

Muscles still tense, he looked into the direction of the earlier glow. But all he saw was you, arms leaning against the edge of the tub, your head laying on top of it. Your gaze stayed on him, even if you did squint your eyes, almost like some form of mistrust. 

And was he not the right one to understand how you might feel. At the same time, he did not have the time to indulge in your curiosity, or his. Rather, he turned around towards the sink and acted nonchalant, as if your mental presence didn’t come as a surprise. 

He almost felt the way your eyes traveled over his form, catching onto the word on the side of his neck. The one so similar, if not identical to yours. And your confusion could be sensed even without you moving in the slightest, without him even daring to glance at you. 

For a couple of seconds, he acted as if the water coming out of the sink was the most interesting thing to ever be seen today, until he realized how much he must have been stalling and shut it off with a click. 

And he couldn’t help it, he turned towards you, ready to look you in the eyes, look at your current disposition. But before he fully faced you, there was a barely heard splash, and the only thing he could see was the tail end of yours slightly peeking out of the water. 

Shifting his weight slightly, he furrowed his eyebrows. He truly didn’t know what to expect or what to do. So, he did what he thought best, he turned around. Only, the hold of his feet was much too precarious as his balance tipped over, all because of a little puddle against the tile floor. 

His reflexes caught on faster than his brain, and his arms were holding him, clawing at the edge of the basin as his legs slowly slumped to ground. Only once he was secure on the ground did he allow himself to breathe again, the air releasing after the sudden fall had almost choked him. 

He began to lessen the tension in his arms, only to suddenly be face to face with you, inches barely between the two of you; only him slightly looking down on you. 

Your eyes were wide open as they stare him down, and the moment you opened your mouth he couldn’t help but glance towards them; expectancy rushing through him. But all he got were a couple of clicks, coming from the depth of your throat. 

And it seemed like you sensed his confusion, as you put your arms at the spots where his once were and stemmed yourself higher, to be at the same height as him. Releasing one of your arms from the spot, you let it slowly approach his skin, his neck, his code. 

Surprisingly, Aventurine didn’t even think of dodging your careful touch, rather, he anticipated it. There was just something about the way you barely let your cold fingers touch him, how it was more about making sure it was real than about the contact itself. Cold water dropped down the column of his throat as you continued to trace the one thing you both shared, at least externally. 

His breath shuddered as you began to apply more pressure, and with that he pulled away. He couldn’t afford to slack right now, even with the frown you were giving him, the slight tilt of your head as you let out a couple of clicks, a question tinting them. 

He sighed as he brushed his hair aside, his wet fingers letting them stick in place. There was no way to know if you understood him, but he had to try, right?

With a couple of sentences he explained that he had to go, work and people were expecting him. And even if it seemed like you grasped what he meant, the frown never left your face. Yet, you let him go without trying anything. 

So, he left. 

***

The day had worn him out. Aventurine knew the gamble, was the best at it, yet it didn’t mean that he had to enjoy it. The only thing he got out of this work were the benefits, some better than others. 

He wanted nothing more than to lay down, yet the absent buzzing of the background made the calm and quiet almost oppressive, almost like his ears were stuffed. 

With a sigh, he went through the same motions he did every time he came back. Only to falter slightly the moment he heard a splash coming from the bathroom. 

Right. You were still there. 

Loosening his collar, he made his way to the bathroom, this time expecting the ominous glow of your eyes. But when he peered inside, there was only darkness, the light switch was off and your eyes covered by the water. The only indication of your existence were the almost too loud waves of the water. 

His fingers found the switch, and light flooded the small space. Once again, all he could see of you was part of your tail, and he realized that the bathtub might be just a tad too small for you. 

The moment the light touched the surface of the water, the movements of the waves intensified, and as he slowly stepped towards the basin, your  torso emerged out of the water with a sudden jerk, only to come face to face with him once again. 

As much as he wanted to say that he was better prepared, he still flinched slightly at the sudden jump. Your movements had sprayed water all over the floor and all over him. Aventurine could feel the way spots of his clothes slightly stuck to his skin and the water droplets running over his skin. 

With a couple of clicks, you grabbed his hand to tug him closer. Taking a couple steps closer, he carefully kneeled beside the tub and ignored the way the puddles on the ground soaked into the tissue of his pants. Rather, he put his focus on you, the way your cold fingers were gingerly holding his wrist while you led his own to your skin. 

Warm meets cold, and this time it was your skin reacting to his touch. Yet, you didn’t relent, rather you applied more pressure, until he noticed where you had put his finger onto. 

Your own code. The one warmer than the rest of your skin, red edges and raw borders. 

His mind tumbled. Was he any better than these people buying and selling, acting like everyone was nothing but profit? Wasn’t he acting the same way, taking and keeping people, hidden under the dark. 

He jerked his hand away from yours, abruptly standing up, his soaked pants cooling him down to an uncomfortable degree. 

And this time, he left without any words. 

***

This time, HE kept the lights on, as some kind of mercy. But whatever effort HE put into this little thought of HIS only brought more pain. Your eyes were killing you, the shine of the lamp above searing your retina. Still not used to the lamps of the land, as the water below remained dark, always.

So, you kept them close, and stayed underwater, the only comfort for your hot eyes and burning mark. 

Resting your head against the bottom of the bathtub, you couldn’t help but frown. You had no idea what you were doing in this place. Most so-called owners of the past were people equipped with handling you, big tanks, so much space (and the eyes, never leaving you, always staring, always desiring). Some grew tired of you, others couldn’t keep maintaining the tanks and the technology, while a couple simply went out cold, or whatever. It didn’t matter to you, as you kept being handed around, sold to whoever got feverish with the idea of owning you.

And you, you had given up on going back home. There was no such place anymore. At least from what you understood from the conversations over the edge of the tanks. They sucked it dry, and whatever wouldn’t bring them enough profit was left to rot on top of the hot sand. 

So, the only thing you could do was nothing. Nothing but survive. You couldn’t fight, you couldn’t run away. You were completely dependent on whoever was keeping you in their palm. 

Your fingers brushed against the mark on your shoulder, the dull throbbing intensifying with each stroke. You had never had one of these before, every owner wanting to keep you as beautiful as you were, only selling you to private people. But you supposed these traders didn’t care for such pretenses, thus officially marking you as property, as something to own, to sell and buy. 

It bothered you, really, just being in this place, having no idea what was expected of you. HE never seemed to have any favorable reaction to your existence, which boils your blood. You didn’t want to be in this place either, HE was the one to bring you to this space. 

But the image of HIS mark flashing through your mind calmed you a little bit. You didn’t quite understand why HE had one, yet could walk around so freely, but you knew that HE was in some way aware of the situation you were in, how living had been like this. 

So, you decided to cut HIM some slack, even if you wanted nothing more than to understand HIS intentions towards you, besides the impossible freedom of course. 

Curling your fingers, long nails soothingly scratching your skin, you let your mind wander. 

***

It took some time until HE visited you again, it was almost like HE was actively avoiding you. Thinking back on your last encounter, on HIS facial expression HE probably was. And you didn’t mind the solitude, even if the small environment quickly grew boring and dull. But that too, was nothing new to you. You just dived into yourself in the way you would dive into the deep water. 

So, you barely noticed HIS arrival, simply floating in the unmoving, almost stale water. The thing alarming you of HIS presence was the noise. The scratching of HIS rings, the glide of HIS clothes against each other, HIS oh-so-careful yet confident steps. You knew HE was in this room with you, yet you stayed underwater, suddenly so unsure what you were supposed to do. 

An image flashed through your mind, one so unpleasant that your body almost flinched on itself. You didn’t know if it was a good thing to be reminded of your expected behavior like this, but it was a reminder nonetheless. 

Collecting yourself, you emerged slowly, only allowing your head to break the surface of the water. 

You didn’t know what to expect (an imposing figure looking down on you, ready to strike–), but it was not HIM once again kneeling as low as possible beside the bathtub containing you, almost like HE was trying to be on the same level as you, how absurd–

“I’m sorry,” He softly murmured, His voice careful and almost hesitant, yet His eyes stayed on you, unwavering. 

You had so many questions, but you could never convey them to him, and you shouldn’t, it wasn’t your turn to speak, who were you to try to talk. 

Out of instinct, your head moved slightly to the side as you blinked slowly at Him, and He slowly raised His hand, reaching out to you. 

(Skin against skin, a sharp sting, over and over again–)

His fingers carefully touched your cheeks, barely any contact, yet the difference in temperature something to shiver at. But you didn’t dare to, you didn’t dare to move. 

Trailing your skin, your throat as you swallowed, He only stopped when His skin was about to meet your marking. Another whisper, another apology fell from His mouth. 

And for some reason, you did something you would have never dared to, you took the hand touching you, your other hand carefully meeting the skin of His, fingers carefully around His neck. Slowly, you pulled Him closer to you. 

With a soft click of yours you let his forehead rest against yours. And as if he understood everything you wanted to tell him, the tension melted away from his body as he slumped against you. 

Holding him against your skin, a small equilibrium between you, you think that everything might turn out alright after all. 

[sugarandspicewriting]

I am humbly requesting some headcanons for Genshin women,,, can I get Ei and Arlecchino dating hcs, I am asking for myself.

Anything for you pookie

Summary: General dating hcs for Ei and Arlecchino

Warnings: Does Scaramouche count as a warning. 828 words.

A/N: Arlecchino's section includes Scara and is set before he erased himself.

Arlecchino

You’d have to be a high ranking member of the Fatui or a harbinger to get close to her.

She’d have to come to like you on her own terms. No amount of flirting or seduction is going to get her to like you if she doesn’t already. 

She will not waste her time on you if she doesn’t see value in you. So if she does express romantic interest in you, it’s probably because your goals are closely aligned.

That being said, the way she flirts/shows affection can be vaguely threatening.

“Can you run in those shoes?” 

“What?”

“I said, can you run in those shoes? It would be horrible if something were to happen to you…”

Hey queen! What did you mean by that.

Anyways, romantic threats aside,  she’s very old fashioned in her courting rituals.

She absolutely calls it courting

SHe carefully arranges dates for the two of you. You really should be grateful she makes time for you in her busy schedule.

She enjoys inviting you to her residence in Fontaine at the hearth and drinking tea with you while chatting. 

She takes you on walks to places where she’s noticed beautiful scenery.

She keeps correspondence with you through letters when she’s away

But in the brief moments you get alone, she is open to receiving  physical affection.

She enjoys having you on her lap. To her it represents the power she holds over you. If you’re lucky she’ll allow you to do it while she’s working at her desk.

“Are you a child?” Scaramouche sneered. His face contorted into a look of disgust. Arlecchino continued writing, choosing not to dignify his statement with a response. You tore your gaze away from the iron cast  flickering fireplace from your spot on her lap.  

It wasn’t a good idea to indulge Scaramouche by replying to his insults, but the compromising position he had found you in left you feeling defensive.

“And what if I am?” you retorted, your voice steady despite the irritation bubbling within. “It’s better than being an insufferable fool.” Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more.

“If you two are quite done,” Arlecchino’s voice rang out from behind you. “I have work to finish. Do say what you came for and leave Scaramouche.”

She isn’t a conversationalist, but she’ll allow you to discuss whatever you’d like. If anyone else wanted to discuss their favorite light novel with her, she wouldn’t allow it. But you get the privilege of discussing trivial things with her. 

If she has the time, she might even read the novel herself.

A relationship with Arlecchino would be unconventional, but it’s not something she’s concerned about. If a conventional relationship is what you wanted, you’d be with someone else.

Ei

You would need to be someone who worked in Tenshukaku. Ei very rarely leaves and doesn’t have anything romantic on her mind when she does. 

Yae will probably have to help her decipher her feelings. After having spent so much time in the plane of euthymia she would have forgotten how it feels to like someone in that way.

“I cannot recall ever feeling this way about anyone else. Just simply being around them brings me great joy. I find myself wanting to experience new things with them, and add them into my definition of eternity. What does this mean?”

“Ei… you’re so childish sometimes.”

Once she stumbles her way through her confession, she likes to give you little trinkets she finds when she does leave, or even something she finds around the building.

One day she might give you a rock that reminded her of the color of your eyes, another time she might give you an exorbitantly expensive necklace she saw on one of her rare outings. 

As someone who has been alive for hundreds of years and has her sights set on eternity,she sees both of those gifts as equally valued, and expects you to see them that way as well.

It’s important for you to help her get out of her head sometimes. If she had it her way she’d keep you in Tenshukaku, or even the plane of Euthymia at all times to keep you safe. She knows that’s not what you would want, so she won’t but she worries about you.

She enjoys sharing meals with you. Every time she discovers a new treat, her first thought is to share it with you.

“Have you tried this before? It’s called Daifuku. It’s a mochi stuffed with sweet filling! Doesn’t that sound delicious?”

“Ei, I thought we were supposed to be eating dinner, not dessert.”

“Not every meal has to be particularly nutritious. The Shogun doesn’t know everything.”

“Ei!”

Being with Ei as a mortal being will be an interesting experience. She doesn’t like when things change, and she knows you won’t always be around. But she is more than happy with spending a moment in her eternity with you.

[mmelionsblog]

LIGHT SHOWER [sam golbach x reader]

a/n: this was requested by a special someone in my inbox (tysm for requesting and reading my work!!)

warnings: angst, cheating, mention of slight sex, cussing, fluff

it was another normal tuesday night with the two famous youtubers, sam and colby. you were invited to their house just to hang out with them and some of their other friends of course. though your boyfriend of the time, daniel, had called you for the past 20 minutes and had spammed your phone with too many messages to count.

you rolled your eyes at your phone, deciding to finally answer him. “yes, dan?” sam perked up at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. his eyes glared at nothing for a second, but quickly switched back to normal when a friend of his called him to set up a ping pong game. “please- hic- could you please come pick me up?” you clenched the bridge of your nose, annoyed that you had to leave early due to your douche of a boyfriend. “send me your address.” you heavily sighed.

you walked over to the coat racket, bringing your jacket and placing it on your body. “well. looks like i’m leaving early tonight guys,” you smiled sadly towards your friends. “no.., please don’t tell me it’s because of your douche-y boyfriend daniel?” devyn whined. “i’ll be the only girl here now.” you noticed sam snapped his head a bit rather quickly when you told them the information. “you’ll have tara arrive in a few, you’ll be fine dev.” you gave her a hug, waving to the others and walking to the door.

sam jogged slightly over to you, “are you sure you’re okay to drive? i’m sober and can easily take you home.” you waved him off, “i’m fine really. i only had a drink, barely. plus i’m out to go get daniel. that little piss of shit is already drunk and it isn’t even nine yet.”

sam huffed at that, “i seriously don’t know why you’re still with him.” your heart hammered at that. “we’re… high school sweethearts, sam. even if i ever wanted to leave him, we live in the same apartment.” sam chucked at that, “you can always stay at ours. i’m pretty sure colby wouldn’t mind, we both love you you know.”

you gave him a small smile. “and i really appreciate it, sam. i’ll text you when we arrive home safely. goodnight.” you gave him a side hug, and departed from the party. you walked to your car and put the destination into your phone and it was ten minutes away.

finally arriving there, it looked to be a sketchy apartment building. your face reeked of disgust by the way it looked, ‘must be a 2 star review. or maybe even lower..’ you shudder as you walked in.

your eyes locked to the lady at the front desk who gave you a weird look, “i’ve never seen you around this part of town. who are you here for?” she asked with a thick accent, you sighed. “my boyfriend.” you responded. she awe’d and went back to whatever the generation type of computer looking was on her desk.

you called daniel twice now, but he had declined. he finally sent you a message two minutes later with floor six and room number 665. you groaned, already knowing that it will smell of frat boys in the apartment and that you’ll have to drag daniel all the way down your car. thank goodness the front parking spot was not taken. as you reached the door, something felt odd.

there was no loud, banging music, and there wasn’t usual girls and guys making out in the corridor the party would be held at. you gulped, knocking on the door. you waited for a minute but no one seemed to be home— though you knew daniel was here since you saw his regular blazer out in the front laying dirty on the floor. ‘gross,’ you thought.

your heart hammered loudly enough for you to hear, and without even thinking you decided to slowly open the wooden brown old door in front of you and take a peek into the room. the hallway light was on and you then heard it. moans. daniel’s moans specifically, and a girls one at that too. it smelt disgusting as well with whatever was living in here. almost vomiting, you held it in together and walked towards the living room where the light was on and you could clearly see daniel getting fucked by two blonde complete naked women. and you snapped.

“what the FUCK,” you screamed. the three heads turn towards you, daniel’s mouth wide open as it was being used by a dildo toy from a women sticking it down his throat. “bb-baby,” he struggled to get out, his hand grabbing towards you. “do not EVER, call me baby. don’t even think for a second you can come back to me or the apartment either.”

you look at the two women who seemed to already be in their thirties, and you looked at them disgusted seeing how daniel was only 25. “we’re done. daniel, have a good life.” before you left, you looked around to see if he had the keys to the apartment and you spotted them scattered on the floor. you picked them up with your pinky, careful to try and not to touch it seeing as it was on the dirty nasty floor in the room with them.

as soon as you got into the lobby, the lady only looked at you and sighed. “i should’ve said it sooner baby, but this apartment is only used to for partners to cheat on their significant other’s and mostly— it’s usually threesomes that are in here.” she gave you a sympathetic look but you only looked at her in disgust, quickly leaving the place.

you got into your car, locking the doors seeing as it was now 10 a clock and you did not want any type of stranger trying to get into it. your eyes were blurry, and you didn’t even know if you could even drive back home let alone if you even wanted to go there.

then, you thought of sam. you bit your lip, contemplating if calling him up would be ruining the party for the others too. but you said ‘fuck it, i need him more than they need him.’ so you dialed in sam’s number, and after a second ring he answered. though you could barely hear him, seeing as the party got louder and music was blasting. “sam,” you hiccuped into the phone.

at the other end of the phone, sam’s eyes widen. he ignored the calls for his name, and rushed out to the window to where it was peaceful and quiet enough to hear you. “hey, hey are you okay? what happened? what did douche bag daniel do to you?” sam asked, bombarding you with questions.

you hiccuped even more, tears finally streaming down your face. “please pick me up, i don’t think i can drive right now at a time like this. i don’t feel safe here either.” you asked him, and even though he knew you didn’t see him, he nodded. “yes of course i’ll pick you up. i’ll get colby to drive his car and i’ll drive yours. where’s the address?” and you sent him the address as soon as he asked for it.

you sat there for a good ten minutes till you saw colby’s car pulling up. he parked next to you, and the two men got out. you were drenched in your own tears, shaking so little but they could still see you were a complete wreck. “i’m gonna fuck him up,” colby rolled his shoulder, walking up to the glass doors but sam immediately stopped him and signaled his head to you. “y-you don’t wanna go in there, trust me that place is nothing but filth.” you got out. your face not knowing what to chose, confusion, disgust, anger, sadness.

colby’s face held sympathy for you, giving you a big hug from the front. “alright. well tell me when you two go to your apartment—“ you cut him off there. “i was wondering if i could still attend the party? i don’t think i wanna go back..” you mumbled, your hand softly tugging on colby’s sleeve. he smiled, “of course you can come. and i’m gladly willingly to let you stay here too of course, in my room…” he wiggled his eyebrows, sam glared at him for that. “or sam’s! or sam’s… i guess.” he shrugged. he peaced the two of you out, getting into his car and driving back to their own apartment.

“i told you, colby wouldn’t have minded.” sam smiled at you. the two of you outside of the side door to your car. “thank you sam really, this means a lot to me.” you hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go. but a cough made you jump from it being so quiet outside at night. “the fuck are you doing with sam?” daniel slurred, staggering left and right. “i told you were done, daniel.” you glared at him. sam felt the tension and placed you behind him, his arm wrapped around your waist carefully. “please leave her alone.” sam spoke

daniel looked at him with wide eyes, “don’t tell me what to fucking do with my girlfriend,” he spat, another stagger towards sam. “get in the car,” he whispered into your ear. your eyes widen at when he told you that, but you listened nonetheless. “the fuck are you doing with her?!” daniel shouted, shoving sam. your eyes looked to daniel in horror when he tried to open your door, but sam of course sam pushed him back. “she’s not yours anymore, you fucked up.” sam shouted back, “and you known what? i’m glad you did. she never deserved you. you’re a fucking asshole!” sam shoved him all the way back to the doors and the last push had daniel flat to the floor.

“you’re a dead man when i get to you, samuel.” daniel sneered out, “you’ve done fucked up.” sam started off, “and i am so glad you did. now,” sam looked back at you who was looking through the windows down at them.

“i have her all to my self. and i will treat her so much more better than you ever have and ever will, she’s a queen and you and i both know that. but you fucked up.” sam pushed harshly onto daniel’s chest, his eyes glaring deep into daniel’s green ones. “she isn’t yours anymore.” sam sneered, walking away from the drunk man and getting into the car.

he huffed out, blowing his hair. “well tonight has been crazy.” you didn’t pay attention to him, more to daniel the way how he looked at sam as if he was the devil. you grinned slightly to sam, “what the hell did you say to him?” you laughed lightly.

sam side eyed you with a gaping smile, pulling out of the parking lot and driving back to his apartment “you don’t wanna know sweetheart.” at the mention of that nick name, your heart beat raced up and your cheeks were a bit red but you thanked it was late because if it wasn’t, sam definitely would’ve seen.

by the time you to got to sam and colby’s place, colby texted sam that he threw the party out for you. your heart ached, “you didn’t have to do that colby.” you said as you entered the kitchen where he was, already cleaning up the mess. “they’d be as confused to why you returned with tears down your face. i didn’t want them to bombared you with everything while you’re still trying to comprehend it all.” he smiled at you. you gave him a smile back, hugging him tightly.

“i don’t have any clothes to change to,” you spoke. you were in jeans and a silky sphageti silver top, so you felt uncomfortable in the outfit you picked tonight. “i got some clothes, go ahead and go take a shower if you want too,” sam ruffled your hair and you flipped him off, but thanked him and walked towards the shower.

after your nightly shower routine, you got out and called sam over. “i need underwear,” you breathed out awkwardly, embarrassment all over your face. sam’s face had reddened at that, “uh- uhm, well we don’t have any here… uh i can- hand you over some of my boxers?” he squeaked out. you chuckled nervously, “thanks sam. and a pair of tshirt and some basketball shorts maybe?” he nodded and left you, but came back a minute later. “here you go.” you thanked him once more and got dressed.

you walked out, dressed all in sam’s clothes and colby had spotted you. “wow, now look at that. sam is finally getting the girl,” your eyebrow raised. his face looked in horror as sam looked from behind him with a ‘she doesn’t know yet!’ look. “oh er— you know, kidding! kidding,” he laughed off. “i can help you clean,” you suggested. colby shrugged, “nah sam and i both got it. where are you sleeping by the way?” he asked you.

you totally forgot about that. “sam if you don’t mind…” you trailed off, your eyes towards his room. “of course! you can always use my room if you want. i’ll sleep in the living room.” your heart hammered. “oh! uhm, okay,” you gave him a small smile, then walked into his room.

colby looked at his best friend with a straight face. “dude. she clearly wanted you in there,” he spoke. sam looked at him, “it’s just—, i want to give her some time. as long as she needs. just because as soon as she’s off the market, doesn’t mean she probably wants to date just now.” he mumbled. “yeah but, you could at least comfort her more.” colby smirked. sam rolled his eyes at him, and flipped him off. “i’m gonna go talk to her,” sam spoke. “hey! you need to clean too.” sam waved him off once more.

he knocked slightly on his own white door, opening a crack. he saw you on his bed, comfy with your phone out. “sam,” you smiled. he smiled back. “hi,” he spoke. he closed the door behind him, and sat on his bed next to you. “you know you can sleep here too, it is your bed after all.” you said. sam’s eyes widen, “are you sure? i don’t wanna push you a bit overboard.” you giggled at that, “sam i’m inviting you too. this is YOUR bed.” and so he climbed, he was already in his pajamas and got comfy into the bed.

“i’m sorry about your ex.” he mumbled, playing with his thumbs. “it was bound to happen. he was getting rather annoying this past couple of months, and being such a dick to my friends, and especially to you more often. which i never got,” you scoffed. but you could feel the moment sam froze. “do you want to know what i said to him, when we were fighting?” he asked you.

you looked at him and nodded. “i’ve been thinking about that since we’ve got here.” sam took a deep breath and breathed. “we started fighting about you. i told him how he fucked up, you deserved better. that you are a queen, and he lost the only good queen he’d ever find in this life..” he mumbled, “and that i was glad he lost you.” you looked at him confused, and he looked at you right back.

“i was so glad to hear you finally had broken up with him, because ive liked you for too long.” sam breathed. your breathing came to a halt, shock was written all over your face. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna be a thing or a thing at this moment,” he reassured you. “or if you don’t even like me—“ he was cut off from you, when he felt lips on his.

his eyes widen at that, but soon closed softly. “we can take it slow.” you spoke after you broke the kiss, “please let’s take it both slow. daniel was my ever fist everything, seeing as he was my high school sweetheart. so sam, if you do wish to date me, i want to do it the right way with you.” sam nodded, his head softly placed on yours. “it’s okay if we cuddle though, tonight?” he asked sheepishly, you smiled brightly and giggled just a little bit, “i suppose it’s okay.”

and after a bit more talking, the two of you got into a cute night position. you as the little spoon, and sam as the big spoon, protecting you from anything that would happen.

A/N: it has been MONTHSS since i’ve uploaded a fic, but here is one that was requested! thanks to the one and only anon! tysm :) (even if it took two months because i felt unmotivated and a bit busy at the time)

[heyimdove]

More on why Persuasion is the real Jane Austen parallel to Aziracrow, and why Pride and Prejudice is not, because I can’t stop dwelling.

There’s a lot here so I’ll try to structure this in a way that makes sense. Wish me luck.

I’ve seen so many people equate Aziraphale to Lizzie and Crowley to Darcy, but these comparisons don’t make sense. Character-wise, they are far more like Anne Elliot and Frederick Wentworth, respectively.

We’ll start with Elizabeth Bennet, who I love with all my heart and is one of those characters I feel like I know (I’m delusional, it’s fine). Elizabeth is wonderfully intelligent, but she isn’t “accomplished” and isn’t a perfect specimen of Regency womanhood. Instead she’s sharp and headstrong. She wants to live how she wants and with someone she loves for a partner. She rejects a match that is, on paper, perfect and would solve all her family’s problems, because she won’t settle for unhappiness. You know who that doesn’t sound like?

Aziraphale, were he a Regency Era woman, would be considered very accomplished for the time; well-read, polite, even a music tutor. But he’s more unlike Elizabeth because he desires to “do what’s best for the family”. In other words, if Elizabeth Bennet was more like Aziraphale, she’d be married to Mr. Collins. She would’ve considered it her duty to marry him because it would protect her loved ones (see Aziraphale accepting the Metatron). For Aziraphale, his duty to protect trumps his personal desire.

So does that make Crowley our Lizzie? No, that doesn’t fit either, and not only because Aziraphale makes a terrible Darcy. Sure, Aziraphale’s status as an angel might be considered comparable to Darcy’s elevated status as a rich person, but Crowley has never hated Aziraphale, never even considered it, and wouldn’t hate him even after the rejection. Lizzie’s hatred is what spurs Darcy to grow. Darcy needed to be completely despised by her to decide to put in the work to be worthy of her.

Okay, so then is Crowley Darcy? Perhaps we could shoehorn that in somewhere because Darcy doesn’t seem good but actually is, or is considered grouchy, but it’s such a loose connection, it barely works-

-Especially when you consider how much better the two fit as the protagonists of Persuasion.

(And yes, shut up, I liked the Dakota Johnson one and I will be using the gifs.)

Where Pride and Prejudice is about two different people gradually seeing the value in the other, Persuasion is the story of two different people seeing the value in the other right from the start, but who then repeatedly make mistakes that keep them separate and in agony.

Aziraphale is *so* much like Anne. First, Anne is the only reasonable (read: likable) member of her high-born family, who believe people in other societal castes to not only be inferior, but disgusting.

Anne sees this is not true, and falls madly in love with the low-born Wentworth- only to be persuaded by outside input not to marry him. Station and familial duty play a part in this decision, and she regrets it for years. She is completely unable to move on.

Like Aziraphale, Anne is certainly more accomplished, for one thing, and she plays by the rules of women of her time and status. BUT her sense of mortality breaks often from that of her family. When she tries to impart her good morals upon them, they are dismissive and insulting, reacting as if Anne is the one who “doesn’t get it”.

She spends eight years with a family she barely belongs to, wondering why she ever thought the company of people like this was worth the loss of Wentworth.

For all of Anne’s kindness, she is a pushover. She’s rarely confident in herself. When she needs to speak up, or just have a direct conversation with Wentworth, she doesn’t. She can’t. She repeatedly makes Wentworth come to her.

Wentworth, meanwhile, is a far better match for Crowley than Darcy is. Wentworth will never be an aristocrat like the Elliots, but he carves out a life he considers valuable using new rules. Sound familiar?

Are Wentworth’s and Crowley’s morals obviously a bit different? Yes, of course. Crowley is a DEMON, after all. But Crowley conducts himself in such a way that he’s literally cast out of Heaven and removed from Hell- in other words, he’s twice been given “the rules” for how to act and has twice decided, nah, that’s not for me. Wentworth was given the rules for what he could have as a low-born man and became a wealthy, high-ranking naval officer. And Wentworth didn’t do that for love, either. He found the consideration of one’s wealth in determining whether they should be loved abhorrent. Wentworth did it for himself initially (bitterly too, maybe), just like Crowley saves the goats and the kids for himself.

And, of course, Crowley’s confession parallels Wentworth’s position in relation to Anne far more than Darcy’s position to Lizzie. Crowley says “if they (two apparent opposites) can do it, so can we,” because he knows he and Aziraphale love each other. At the start of Persuasion, Wentworth asks Anne to be his wife despite their differing societal rank because he knows they love each other. At the end of Persuasion, he asks again because he knows they have both been in agony, that they both love each other as much as they ever did.

Darcy, meanwhile, does not know if Lizzie loves him, but arrogantly believes she will accept on the basis that what he can offer her monetarily is better than what anyone else can, not knowing what she actually values. She demolishes him.

On that note, that’s really the only parallel between Aziracrow and Darcy/Lizzie, only Aziraphale is Darcy. Aziraphale believed Crowley would accept his offer because he believed Crowley would want to be an angel again. Crowley believed Aziraphale would accept his offer because he knew they loved each other.

These are all very different characters, but ultimately, I think we were gunning for Pride and Prejudice and wound up with Persuasion; the slowest, most agonizing burn with the most beautiful reunion. So we didn’t get “you have bewitched me, body and soul,” in S2. We got the events leading up to Persuasion, and will have S3 to watch them play out. Neil knows that Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship is the most compelling part of the story, so I doubt they’ll be separated for long. But everything is so messy, isn’t it? So it makes sense to keep them, like Anne and Wentworth, in close proximity, in mutual, bitter, unspoken pining, but still not together. It will be absolutely delicious to watch. Isn’t that what we loved the most from S1?

Because we know they love each other. And whatever catalyzing event forces them to say it out loud will be all the better if every moment they don’t say it hurts. I don’t want a “you have bewitched me” moment, I want “I’m half agony, half hope.”