#tried to do something new with the shading :333

[sunnysssol]

bro flexed and the damn sleeves fell off

[ ᴄᴏᴍᴍs ᴏᴘᴇɴ | ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ]

[throwaway-yandere]

The Boar Prince/ss (Tighnari/Reader)

A/n: Tis I, your secret raccoon @riabef offering you a humble present for this day 🦝 🎁!!! It is probably wet cuz my trash animal brain tried to wash it by the creek but eh, hope ya like it!!! I can't say I celebrate Xmas, but happy holidays, belated happy birthday and best wishes for the new year!!! <333 - with love, ansytea

CW: none!!! Pls trust me– they're just sassy children being sassy children. Just wholesome fluff-crack vibes with added soulmate elements (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Unreliable Synopsis: Seven-year-old Tighnari meets his soulmate in the forest on the eve of Celestia's Day. Hilarity ensues.

----

Tighnari was FREEZING!

He was just a kid! Why was HE the one tasked with picking up branches for the fireplace?! That's not fair at all! Just because he had maintained his ears and tail better than the rest of his family doesn't mean he's best suited for this job. Sure, it doesn't snow much in Sumeru, but he's not the most resilient fox compared to his relatives! Tighnari's too young for this. The place is positively humid and there is little to no room for his whining unless he would devolve into a fit of sneezes. 

With "Grrr"s turning into "Brrr"s, young Tighnari cloaks himself up with the same scarf by adding more layers to protect his neck. When he went out, Tighnari's hair was wild and unruly, constantly falling in his face as an act of immature defiance. He didn't care how much his mom preached about appearances as the kid fennec stomped to the rainforest. 

The rainforest was positively duller than it was in any other season, and he can't even perceive colors. All greys and darker shades. Then again, he's just a kid so that's only natural. He's not as lucky as his mom and dad who found each other back when they were five. And yet, woe is Tighnari for being seven years old and unable to tell plantains and bananas apart. 

Grey… grey… grey… everything was dreadfully grey. Why can’t it snow here now like it did in Liyue? That’s not fair. He wanted to see something lighter and more cheerful than this cold sight.

Tighnari trudged through the place with his tiny legs, hoping to pick up what he needed and head home fast. He whined and his shoulders sagged. In the common egocentric view of children his age, he complained loudly as he picked up a branch as if he was Atlas and it was the Earth. Tighnari rebelliously waved the stick at the sky for a bit when he did pick it up.

Now would be a good time for him to gain a vision, Celestia! It’s Celestia’s Day Eve! Do you hear his thoughts?! A pyro vision would be great, thank you very much!!! 

When Tighnari noticed four mushroom boars cuddling up to one another, he came to a complete halt. The cold must be hard on them too, huh? They stand out against the less vivid background because of their lighter fur. Tighnari might be able to bring some home. 

He instinctively reached for his bow but stopped midway.

Hold on– Dad didn't send him out here to hunt! He's supposed to bring back lumber like a grown-up!

Tighnari pouted. 

Ngh… but hunting's much more fun, though!– 

Hold on.

His eyes widened. His ears jolted upwards as Tighnari revolved his feet on an axis. He turned his heels around in an alert stance. There was no danger around him– there were no ruin guards, no eremites, no fungi– but his surroundings drastically changed. Tighnari kept shooting glances at the new world– the real world around him.

… What is that...?

“What color is that?!”

His hold on the branch tightened, squinting at the small leaf that grew on its side.

Green… green! This has to be green!

He grabbed his tail. Green– dark green? This is green! Are all of these leaves green? 

Tighnari grinned widely. 

His young and simple mind had decided that he liked the color green.

… Green… Yellow-green…

Those were the first colors he saw, but they didn’t come from the trees and the sprouted leaves surrounding him. What do other colors look like? As he was about to hastily scout the area for Sumeru roses, a dire thought occurred to him.

... Why did he start to see colors?

His heart dropped as he looked at the herd again.

… Green… Yellow-green boars…

Oh… oh no… to think he was just planning to kill them earlier...

Is his soulmate… a BOAR?!

His knees buckled down to the ground, the dewed tall grass scraping it slightly. No, it can't be. Tighnari laughed humorlessly. His parents take great pleasure in their son's innate intelligence and curiosity. It's only natural that he likes reading books– he leafed through some encyclopedias so there’s no way for Tighnari to miss that boars…

… have a life expectancy of 10 to 14 years.

"Ngh...!" Tighnari nearly teared up.

How… how can he fall in love with a boar, especially when they'll die before him? H-how can he kiss a boar? Is that even okay? Won’t his friends make fun of him?! Then again, if it's love, then there shouldn't be anything wrong with it, right?

But the rainforest… it’s greatly affected by the withering…By the time Tighnari graduates, he may not even see his soulmate frolicking in the grass anymore...

… That’s it.

The child clenched his fists. Tighnari’s knuckles grew pale– he had never felt this much resolve in his childhood years. It doesn't matter how long his soulmate lives, as long as he can help extend what little time they have, he'll make the most of it. Tighnari wasn’t going to let them die young, nu-uh! Especially not after he saw how beautiful the world is in full color.

He made up his mind. Starting today, he’s going to be a forest ranger to save his soulmate’s natural habitat!

"I-I…!" Tighnari puffed his cheeks out. The child didn’t care if he looked stupid, especially when his only audience was the silence of the rainforest. "I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE UGLY! I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE A BOAR!"

He shut his eyes tight, mustering the courage to accept his (hilarious) fate. If he had them open, Tighnari would’ve noticed two (h/c) protruding fox ears at the center of the bewildered herd.

"I’M GONNA LOVE YOU!!! I'M GONNA BE FOREST RANGER AND I'M GONNA PROTECT YOUR HOME!!! PLEASE STAY STRONG AND DON'T DIE YET!!!"

“W-Why are you screaming?!”

An unexpected voice called out. Tighnari froze, opening his eyes. 

A fox, you, suddenly appeared in the sea of yellow-green fur. Your face was coated in dirt, and your wool jacket was littered with hair that wasn't yours. You were a bit smaller in stature, probably younger than him, and you pulled your ears down to feign meekness and pain from Tighnari’s previous wailing. But most notable of all, you donned a nervous yet mischievous smile– a smile Tighnari will increasingly grow accustomed to for the entire duration of his life, and it gets better each time he sees it.

Your (e/c) eyes blinked, groggily realizing something was amiss. 

“O-Oh, woaaahh, COLORS!!!” You gawked in awe, mimicking the same movements Tighnari did when he gained the ability to see in full colors. “Hey, are you my soulmate?!– Achoo!!!”

Wait, is his soulmate one of the boars or…?

He shyly combed his hair down, now hyper-aware of how embarrassingly messy it was. Tighnari should've listened to his mom earlier. He didn't know he was meeting his soulmate today!

“I… I’m not sure…” Tighnari blinked, visibly perplexed. He glanced at the boars, troubled. A person was cuddling between those stinky animals? How could a fox's nose even handle that? He could barely keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

“Whack!” You blew a raspberry, your small fennec ears drawing back down. “W-Who else would it be other than ME? The boars???”

He grumbled. 'Well, excuse me, prince/ss', that was exactly what Tighnari thought earlier since you were hiding under their fur like an egg waiting to hatch.

“Never mind that! How about you? What are you doing here alone? Where are your parents– and why are you snuggling with them?!”

“C-Cuz it’s cold, alright?!” You sneezed again. Your voice echoed, cute and high-pitched. “M-My parents are adventurers and I wanted to follow them cuz they’re leaving me alone on Celestia Day b-but–”

You sneezed for the umpteenth time.

“B-But I don’t know where they went... I just wanted for us to drink hot cocoa b-but..." You sniffled. 

"S-so I’m hanging out with my REAL family now! They’re nicer and they gave me mushrooms. HMPH!!!”

You proudly put your hands on your hips as your fluffy ears pricked up. You mimicked a "dignified" posture you observed in exaggerated storybooks, pointing your chin upward.

Tighnari clicked his tongue. “Whatever, Boar Prince/ss. Get out of there before they ram their noses to your butt!!”

His weak threat only made his fellow fennec grouchier. “H-Hey! My name is (Y/n) and I’m five years old, th-thank you very much!”

(Y/n)... That’s a really pretty name… He wouldn’t mind saying it often.

“Whatever, I’m still gonna call you Boar Prince/ss. My name’s Tighnari. I’m seven so I’m two years older than you.”

“T-Tighnari, Tighnari. Heh. S-Sounds cool. What’s your last n-name?”

“Huh?”

“O-Obviously I don’t wanna keep my papa’s last name after they abandoned me, so I’M taking your last name, soulmate.”

“Gah– D-Don’t say things like that, you big lummox!!!” Tighnari huffed, his angry breath visible in the cold air. “And they probably didn’t abandon you, you’re just stubborn and you didn't listen to them like a bad kid.”

You purposefully ignored his last remark. “Why not? Aren’t we going to get married someday?”

Tighnari paused, his face heating up. Technically, you're right, but he didn’t want to admit that. 

He reached his hand out to help you get out of the boars’ place. “S-Shut up! Before you freeze, why don’t you come over to my house? My parents can make some pretty good hot cocoa.”

Your eyes beamed at the suggestion. “Drinking hot cocoa? Hmm... But I wanna do that with my cousins though.”

Tighnari's eye twitched. So much for "soulmates".

“HMPH! If you don’t wanna drink cocoa at my place then be one with the forest!”

“W-Wait up!”

Tighnari walked faster, a few paces ahead of them. You profusely apologized to your "new family" as you swerved out of the herd. Unfortunately for him, despite nearly shivering to death, you're a faster runner than Tighnari. Your hand seized his tail, and he felt his face and ears warm up. You could have yanked him playfully, but you chose to look at him and catch a glimpse of yourself in his eyes.

You decided at that moment that you like the color green, too.

“Hehe, your tail’s prettier than mine.”

He felt his heart race again. 

“W-Wa…” Warm...

“Wah?”

Tighnari trembled in jittery frustration.

“W-Watch your step, our place is near s-so it shouldn't be long until we see mom and dad. And grab my hand instead, won't you!” Tighnari huffed. His place WAS near, but that doesn't mean he won't complain about being ordered to pick up wood earlier.

You did what was instructed, and Tighnari suddenly recalled that you referred to him as your soulmate numerous times. He looked down and noticed how much your hands fit perfectly with his.

A perfect fit... A perfect match...

"Hey, soulmate?"

He answered reluctantly. "...Yeah?"

"I like how warm your hands are too..."

"Ngh!"

Tighnari's hand is sweating and his heart can't take it. It's physically impossible for him to fire a sassy retort to that. He closed his eyes again, overwhelmed.

Slightly, he wished that he couldn't see colors so that he wouldn't notice how cute his soulmate is with that "pink" blush dusting their face.

—----

“Oomph– y-you surprised me, love.”

Neither of you can believe it’s been 14 years since you both found each other– and this would be your 12th year spending Celestia's Day together.

Tighnari, now visibly older but just as energetic as he was before, captured your waist from the back. He put his head on your neck, humming contentedly as he basked in your presence. 

"Sorry, I just missed you…"

You smiled and ruffled his hair slightly. "I missed you, too…"

That's right, 12th year. You're finally home after a two-year-long expedition in the Chasm with Miss Yelan. Suppose being a bit adventurous does run in your blood. However, you weren't too late to not witness the nation of Sumeru change because of the traveler's influence. Since your return, Tighnari frequented your house more often– leaving the rangers with more work. Not that they mind, they’d rather pitch in than see their forest watcher mopey and depressed. Besides, you might've missed the Sabzerus festival, but you won't leave your fiance at his lonesome again for Celestia's Day. 

It’s impossible for him to keep under wraps just how much he adores you. Tighnari sighed dreamily, his expression softened as he looked at you. His fingertips shyly brushed against yours until he intertwined your hands. Although you were slightly tense, you relaxed into the hug and squeezed him back.

He whispered in your ear, his soothing tone complimenting the crackling of the fireplace. "I'm not letting you go… Ever…"

"I know."

"You know what? I'm locking the doors."

"Then what's the point of inviting the others to spend Celestia's Day if you did that, hmm? Do you want poor Collei to be alone on the holidays?"

His nose scrunched. The kid was sleeping soundly upstairs after she got tired of waiting for the traveler and Cyno. Tighnari's never going to abandon her, she can't be alone when she got the best parental figures with her. Better than those boars, at least.

"Collei can stay in, she’s like your daughter at this point. The others can perish."

"OUR daughter. Plus, last time I checked, it was your idea to invite them."

His hug tightened, "I made a grave mistake. I don't want to hear Cyno's jokes under the pine tree." 

By no means a novice to his snark, you chuckled softly. As time flew by, your old playful happy-go-lucky nature refined to be more serious, but never dull. You've both matured into fine adults. However, you're behaving rather timidly compared to your usual banter, which only pushed him to act skittish.

Tighnari pouted intentionally cute. “Honey... you know there’s no one else in the world more gorgeous than you, right?”

You tell each other everything, and this is often his best conversation starter for it. “What is it this time, love?”

“Hypothetically speaking, what if I told you I accidentally gave the others the wrong map?”

“...The wrong what?”

“The wrong map to your house.” His voice was muffled this time as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You’re used to the sensation of him hiding his meek expressions behind you. “What if I told you I mailed them Collei’s drawing?”

You put your hand on your chin profoundly, your ears drooping down. You're something of a schemer yourself, so it's in your nature to doubt his claim. “Ah yes, because I’ll definitely believe you did that accidentally after you just said you don’t want them to come over.”

“Yes– cause this time I’m not lying.”

“Sure, you rotten fox…” You grumbled. “I can’t believe you’re exposing to everyone that I’m the Boar Prince/ss. It was supposed to be a secret!”

Tighnari laughed, his joy so contagious that your pretend dismay collapsed in an instant. The both of you stood by the fireplace for a while, your ears listening to the sound of your soulmate’s breathing.

It's the warm and comfortable moments of silence like this that can wash two years of loneliness away.

Life has kept you both so busy that the beginnings of your somewhat haphazard love story have been buried behind numerous tasks and research papers. Nevertheless, regardless of the conflicts you two had experienced, it all comes down to one tale. It is a wonderful serendipity that both perspectives coalesced into a single, cohesive narrative of a child who believed a boar was his soulmate and another who was unexpectedly adopted by the herd while looking for their parents.

Tighnari traced the engagement ring in your hand. His eyes were intensely green yet soft whenever he gazes at you. 

Green’s such a beautiful color, especially when it paints his features. You'll never grow tired of observing his face.

“(Y/n)... I'm so glad that you're alive, unlike a boar's lifespa–”

As if to ruin a magical moment in a Fontaine rom-com film, the door busted open, revealing a particularly unamused scribe with a mercenary, a dancer, a general, a gliding champion, and a traveler trailing behind him like lost puppies. You flinched at the sound while Tighnari put a distance between you and the “intruders”. He only relaxed when he saw Cyno lazily raise his hand.

“Motherfu– See? I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, Dehya.”

“Relax, Haitham, what matters is we’re here now.”

“We would’ve gotten here earlier if SOMEONE didn’t trust a crayon map.”

“I’m sure Tighnari didn’t mean to send us that one.”

“Stop defending him, Cyno, you’re not his damn lawyer.”

While carrying a sizable sweet madame, Lumine shrugged at the very back and looked directly at you and Tighnari. Paimon drifted next to her while sluggishly drooling.

"Happy Celestia day!"

Despite being worn out, the traveler tried her best to ignore the miserable arguments being had by everyone with a large smile.

You snorted behind your hand as Alhaitham brushed off the snow in his cloak by the carpet. You found it funny that none of them, except the scribe, ventured to doubt the quite literally sketchy map. It's impressive that they managed to read Collei's handwriting.

Deciding not to point that out, you helped them get inside. Dehya stood behind him with a sheepishly amiable smile with Nilou directly next in the queue. Nilou giggled as Alhaitham muttered a string of curses under his breath about how he’s too feeble of a scholar for this amount of legwork. Meanwhile, the person who you assumed was "Amber", looked around for any signs of her Sumeruan friend.

Your satisfied smile never left your face as you watched your friends chat heartily. Celestia's Day with friends and family... it's just like what you asked for 14 years ago.

"I'll go and wake Collei up," Tighnari muttered before he pecked your cheek. You nodded along. It was your idea to surprise Collei with Amber after all.

"Bring out the mugs and hot cocoa too."

"On it."

Alhaitham noticed the fox was about to leave and scoffed, his face souring in an expression similar to his housemate's. Oh, he's pissed.

“You…" He pointed an accusatory finger at you. "Why did you send us to the middle of the rainforest? And why on earth is it jam-packed with boars? Is this some high-level joke I can’t comprehend?”

“That’s what I would also like to know too, actually,” Nilou mused, but by the teasing lilt of her voice, it seemed as if she already guessed the answer. “Why did you mark the boars’ habitat as (Y/n)’s home?”

You and Tighnari looked at each other in unison. Your shoulders shook as you both silently held back your laughter.

“Yeah, well, about that…”

----------

Ansytea: happy holidays, riabef!!! hope you liked this <33!!!

[minamill]

hii!! your soft spot post is gorgeous!! if it's not too much trouble, could you share how you edited it? thank you in adavance?? <333

thank this is so sweet!! this is going to be really long, so i'll put it under the cut

resources: preset, gradient, clean and sharp action, letters and topaz clean

left is the unedited screenshot taken with srwe and right is after placing the gradient and setting the blending mode to color dodge and opacity to 7%

on the original layer i ran my personal action, then the clean and sharp action again, uniform monochromatic noise (not sure what percentage though) and two filters from the filter gallery i haven't tried before. it's been a while since my last edit, so i wanted to experiment more, especially with neon lights and colored highlights since i have very little experience with those, but i'll get to that later. i also fixed the glitch on talia's neck and some clipping on her forearm. using the liquify tool and the smile bar i gave eden and talia more pronounced smiles and otis a subtler one on a duplicated layer. then i erased the right sides of eden and talia's mouths to make it look more like a smirk

left is after the actions and filters and right is after i filled in the sims skin and eden's hair (erasing the clothes, eyes, teeth and jewelry) with a black brush on a new layer and set it to soft light 10%. the diffuse glow filter already lightened their skintones a bit and i wanted a base to stop it and the highlights i'll add on later from washing them out

now the fun part, shadows and highlights! i made a folder with two subfolders, one for shadows and one for highlights. it helps me keep it organized and for something i'll mention later on. i draw shadows with the basic soft brush in black, changing the size depending on how big the surface i'm shading is. then i use gaussian blur to soften the effect and erase the excess. the quick select tool leaves harsh lines, so i manually erase. usually i set the layer to soft light, but depending on the shadow sometimes it can be multiply or even normal. for this edit every shadow i mention will be soft light unless i specify otherwise. i try to keep shadows on separate layers to avoid accidentally blurring ones i'm already done with. usually i (try to) pay attention to the light source and add shadows and highlights depending on the angles, but since there are so many light sources in this one i just casually eyeballed it. besides the shadows on the sims themselves i also darkened the store window behind otis to bring more focus to his face with a black brush and layer set to normal and added shadows to the sides of the edit to create a subtle vignette effect. for the eyes i draw a thicker black line following the upper lash line, blur it, erase everything apart from the whites of the eye and set it to soft light. a subtle shadow on the upper eyelid crease also help the eyes pop

the process for highlights is almost the same as for shadows, i draw with a slightly smaller white brush, blur it, set blending mode to overlay (sometimes soft light, i'll specify when). i also tend to make the highlights softer than shadows and really focus on the layering. usually i'll draw a highlight, blur it, set to overlay, then on a new layer do the same thing with a smaller brush and less blur. for the eyes i focus on the middle of the eyelid, inner eye corner and just under the last line. for the iris i drew a highlight on the brightest part (a half circle on the bottom part), blur slightly and set to overlay with low opacity to make the colors stand out. for the catchlights i drew over them with a really small brush, used no or very little blur and duplicated the layer two or three times, merged them, set blending to normal and opacity to 90% and then erased the excess. if the catchlights aren't visible i add them anyways, the bigger they are the effect will be more cartoony, but i personally like that to keep with the style of my default eyes. here's the difference with the highlights added and a close up of eden's eye before and after both shadows and highlights

now the light sources. usually i take a big brush in a light beige color and click twice on the light source instead of drawing, blur heavily and set the layer to overlay, then on a new layer do the same with a smaller brush and less blur. repeat that for a more intense look or lower the opacity for a subtler one. i did that for the lamp between eden and talia. the colored pixels and harsh look was intentional since i was going for a grainy, cluttered vibe for this whole edit, but if you want to avoid that, don't use the filters from the beginning, make less duplicates of the light source highlights and avoid having a light source right behind a very dark color (talia's hair). here's a before and after for that light

now the neon lights and colored highlights were a lot of trial and error, but overall i'm pretty happy with the results. hopefully i'm feel more confident in them after more practice. the process is different than the one for the lamp, not just because of the colors, but because i also wanted to give them that sharp intense led glow. i'll use the sign next to otis as the example, but the process was almost exactly the same for the fake neon sign and light between talia and otis. first i started by drawing over the sign with a white brush staying inside the lines of the sign, not blurring it and setting it to overlay and 50% opacity. duplicated that layer, set it to normal and blur it. then i made a new layer, drew over the sign with an orange brush and made that layer a clipping mask, both set to normal and 100%. then i duplicated that second white layer and blurred it even more and set it to vivid light, made another orange clipping mask and set it to normal. repeated that but instead of vivid light i set the white layer to hard light. duplicate that last white layer and clipping mask and set the white layer to 60%. do one blurred white vivid light layer with a red clipping mask for the red circle above it. then i drew a highlight on the side of otis' head and shoulder the way i did all the sim highlights, duplicate it and add a clipping mask with the matching colors

the colored highlights are very similar, (white brush, blur, overlay, duplicate layer) i just add a blue clipping mask to the top white layer and if there are spots missing a blue hue that aren't edges (of an arm in this case) i use a blue brush and draw it in changing the mode to overlay. this latter way will show the color, but won't be brighter than the background, so i used it for the area where the arm casts a shadow on the shirt under it. here's a comparison of the version without any highlights, plain highlights and with the clipping masks

i added some bits here and there like the lights from the openings in the door, the blue light above the sign left of the door, shadows under talia's breasts since the shirt was pretty flat, made the little circles by otis' hand fake lights... now that all the shadows and highlights are done i duplicated the folder containing both subfolders, hid the layers that were too dark/bright and played with the opacity of the folder until i was satisfied with how it looked. i settled at 20%. here's the before and after all the shadows and highlights

now i picked the letters i needed from the pack i linked in the beginning and spelled out their names with them. i used invert on some of them (switching black to white, white to black) and added a lot of clipping masks with colors and splatter. i played around with a lot of different blending modes for the clipping masks (color burn, subtract, exclusion, darken, multiply, difference and normal). then i merged all the letters without the clipping masks, put them under the original letters, inverted them and moved them slightly to the lower left creating a sort of shadow. then i merged all the letters and clipping masks together, ran the clean and sharp action and added a lot of noise

and that's everything! hopefully this was helpful, i in no way consider myself an expert in editing, i just fuck around until i find something i like, but if there's any other question i can answer don't hesitate to ask. again, thank you so much for this ask and all the love i've gotten on this edit <33

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Hello! I would like you to play matchmaker with me and ship me with someone of the outsiders, please? <333

I'm an average heighted female with pale skin (literally it looks like fucking milk even in summer😭). I have long wavy dark brown hair that is somehow always messy. My eyes are a mix between grey, green and blue and nobody (not even me) can make out their exact colour for the life of theirs since it seems like they are changing colour (from lightning, etc) at every second. I am very fond of the coquette style of clothing, I'm an hyperfeminine girly that loves to dress like the doll she feels like she is. I'm talking full on short white lacy skirts with red heart-shaped sunglasses, cherry lipstick and pink tops with a white ribbon on my hair!

Moving onto my personality; I'm a very sweet girl, I'm the literal mom friend of every friend group I've ever been in. I never shy away from complimenting anything and everything about a person, someone got a new shirt today? "oh my god, that looks so good on you!", someone is trying a new hobby "that's great! tell me all about it!", someone tried a new hairstyle? "you look utterly gorgeous/handsome!"

I consider myself as a very touchy person, I like to hold hands, hang onto someone's arm, legs/shoes touching while sitting, hugs (a lot of hugs) and cuddling! I love cuddling! /all of this both with platonic friends and romantic partners. Though I will back off and tone it down if someone's uncomfortable with so much physicall or verbal affection and resort to gift-giving (hand-made trinkets or small things that reminded me of that certain someone, etc) as love-language. I am a very sensitive gal when it cames to being gifted something, I will fr tear up 😭. I literally cherish every little thing that my friends give me, even if it's a fucking bubble gum wrap paper, it's getting a spot in my 'memory box' lmao.

I laugh at almost everything, and I consider myself pretty much easy-going, I'm okay with every and any kind of plan as long as it's with my friends. Even if I'm sweet and have literally no idea how to even throw a punch, if someone tries to mess with my loved ones you bet your ass I'm gonna throw myself at them and try and do as much damage as I can, even if I end up with my face all bloodied and pretty much more hurt than the one I was trying to hurt 😭 (i just love my friends that much). BTW IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS TOO MUCH TEXT LIKE LITERALLY SORRY AND I HOPE UR HAVING THE GREATEST DAY 😭

No, I actually prefer whenever people provide more information as this allows me to do a deeper analysis of which character and you I think would be great together!!! And I am having a mediocre day, but thank you for wishing me the best!!! Also personality wise. I just think that I’m the sassy gay version of you like if someone gets a new shirt that I think looks good. I’m gonna be like a bitch. You’re literally slaying that respect towards you. We love people who complement people.  also I think we’re literally the same person because I have such pale skin. My friends call me vampire and I have to do like the whitest shade of foundation ever and every time I go into a Sephora it’s like they’re shaming me and I also have color changing eyes, and I never know what to say on those quizzes that are like what color are your eyes because I’m like I don’t have a mirror on me. How am I supposed to know? 

Your outsiders ship: Sodapop Curtis

(I like Soda and Dallas with you for different reasons I think that soda pop and you would have the healthier more beneficial relationship and more realistic, but the enemies to lovers tension between you and Dallas Winston is like SKEPS HAJANSNS)

Explanation: starting off with your physical appearance, I think that he would be incredibly attracted to you as you’re one of the girls that he would typically like. He thinks your eyes and hair are both really gorgeous and he loves the fact that they color change for your aesthetic. I think that he also really loves it and it’s one of the things that made you stand out to him as a person. Out of all the greasers, he’s definitely the one that embraces his femininity the most, and brilliant admires anyone who does so the same I mean, I think his favorite nickname or one of his favorite nicknames to be called is definitely pretty boy because he knows he’s pretty he flaunts it and you can’t tell me he doesn’t. Personality wise I think you guys are pretty similar and I think he loves the fact that you just go up to people and complement them whenever you have something to say and it’s not fake either you don’t do it to do it you just do it because you genuinely feel like they deserve a compliment and you wanna lighten their world in that way and I think that he incredibly admirable and admirable. He’s also a very touchy and cuddly guy, and I think that he would constantly want to have his hands on you someway he’s not necessarily clingy, but I think if you were standing nearby him, he would want to have his hands on you, whether that be just you know, linking pinkies or full on grabbing his arm around your shoulders, I think he loves physical touch. As for you and your sensitivity to giftgiving, I think he would absolutely love that because he can’t give you a surplus of gifts due to the fact he doesn’t come from a stable financial household so I think that he would give you one very well thought out gift and found out that we weren’t mad that he couldn’t give you something more expensive or nice or something or just more. due to you not being able to fight too well I think he would be extremely overprotective of you and he would absolutely beat someone up for you if you wanted, but he would always make sure to check in with you and not be overly aggressive when he doesn’t know the full situation. I SHIP THIS SO HARD 💚💚💚💚

[belladoesmakeup]

Hi guys,

We finally have a new Kylie Cosmetics lip product. We all know Kylie is famous for her liquid lipstick formula and now in her vegan formula she has released a collection of matte and creme bullet lipsticks. I have only ever tried her liquid lipstick formula so I'm really excited to try something new . Since I have enough matte lipsticks for now I decided to get one of Creme Lipsticks (£22.00) in shade 333 Not Sorry.

Before we get into this lipstick itself let's chat about the packaging. When I picked up the lipstick I originally thought I got the wrong shade because the outer packaging had a red lipstick swatch on the front but it turns out they all do so don't let that trick you. The lipstick itself is in the very pretty baby pink Kylie Cosmetics packaging with Kylie's name across the bottom of the lipstick.

Now back to the Not Sorry Lipstick, I picked this shade because it was the lightest shade in the shade range. It's a gorgeous pink toned nude shade that I personally would like everyday. This formula is a creamy lipstick so it sits on the lips effortlessly but has longer lasting  colour  payoff compared to other creme formulas. Now do you need this product? If you are a fan of Kylie Cosmetics and are a bit over liquid lipsticks then I think you're gonna like this formula. But I would say you can find some gorgeous cream lipsticks at the drugstore for half the price.

As always all products mentioned in my blog post are linked above!

Lots of love

Bella x x

[squishymochiuwu]

Eddie Munson Headcanon

Eddie Munson headcanon thoughts ft. what dating him would be like <33

reblogs, likes, and comments are very much appreciated!

(Not my GIF! ctto @suledins) god look at that smile, he's so pretty <3

Now my headcanon thoughts!

Though he may be a repeating three-time senior, I believe that Eddie is surprisingly good at math, more specifically statistics. Though he may be a complete mess, army crawling his way to graduate, I think that he’s a really smart kid.

Speaking of academics, being a DM for campaigns means his writing must be over the top Michelin star shit. I like to imagine Eddie carrying a notebook around to scribble down notes, ideas, and drawings for upcoming campaigns. Besides notes for his campaigns, some pages contain songs recommended by his lover and facts about their interests.

Though we didn’t see Eddie carrying a backpack around school and Hawkins, I like to think Eddie carries a messenger bag with patches and pins reflecting his personality. Imagine Eddie Munson walking towards you with a messenger bag slinging on his shoulder. Fucking hot. 

Speaking of said messenger bag, Wayne got the bag for him at a thrift store as a present as he got a bonus from work. 

Eddie probably throws everything in that messenger bag, his multipurpose notebook/journal, mixtapes, a cassette player (which he saved up for), some candy, those really good inky pens that you randomly find, and some black nail polish.

Eddie’s the type to wear reading glasses when he writes or reads at night, glasses slipping down his nose bridge as he frantically scribbles down an idea.

“Beth” by KISS is Eddie’s warm-up song. This man sings this song to warm up his vocals during gigs at the hideout, or when he’s in the mood to write. Just his go-to song to get in the feels <33

Imagine him writing songs at the foot of his bed, guitar perched up on his lap as fingers press chords and strum a soft melody. Notebook nearby for lyrics, the faint sound of him humming and singing softly as the desk lamp gives his room a cozy vibe <333

Eddie has a cookie tin that serves as a sewing kit container, complete with pins, thread, and a cushion with needles. Imagine a craft store run with Eddie? Eddie looking for a certain shade of black thread, to stitch a patch of said color, as someone’s grandma helps him out while you pick out a certain fabric for an art project.

Though Eddie is described as a “freak” I do believe that elderly women adore him. Eddie’s the type to flatter the elderly while helping them out. Imagine Eddie helping out the elderly in the trailer park <33  Eddie probably learned how to sew patches on his battle vest from a grandma he helps out on a daily basis.

Eddie for sure sniffs his shirts before wearing them, he’s just lazy to do laundry on some days; but when he does, he’s quite particular with how much fabric softener is needed to make his clothes smell good.

Though Eddie smokes, I like to think of him trying to cut back on them when you mention you’re sensitive to smoke. Cue Eddie sucking on lollipops every time the urge for a cigarette comes.

Do you remember the number of mugs in the Munson trailer? What if Eddie and Wayne collect them? Like it's something they both like collecting? Imagine Eddie letting you choose a mug as “your mug” for you to use whenever you come over <33

Eddie may be into heavy metal and rock, but I like to believe listening to Madonna is his guilty pleasure/little secret. Like, imagine him singing to “Like a Virgin”?? 

Tries your red lipstick to see if it would match him after seeing Paul Stanley ( Starchild of KISS) wear it.

Imagine rainy days with Eddie?? Drinking hot chocolate as your head leans on his shoulder <33 Rainy day cuddles on the porch in silence as the pitter-patter of rain lulls you both to sleep.

A/N: Please do tell me what your thoughts are! I'm completely new to writing and would love to hear what you think of my work!

[playgroundfadings]

Hello! I hope you're doing well! I have another request, if that's okay. I was wondering if you could do another Brahms x female reader where the reader gets hurt and is in shock for a couple of minutes? Like she falls down the steps or something? If not, that's okay. Thank you.

HI HI HI. Sorry it took so much time for me to complete this, my week at work has been crazy :’) You are always welcome to request anything darling, it’s a pleasure to write for stinky wall man <333

Tw: not beta read, getting hurt.

|| Brahms Heelshire, falling down the stairs ||

You made peace with the noises and cracks you hear from time to time. When you first came into the manor, you used to jump and yelp at the slightest noise. After all, you were supposed to be alone. With a doll, but alone nonetheless. 

Now, you calm yourself by thinking it’s due to the wear and tear of the foundation. The manor was quite old, after all. When was the last time any renovations were done? It was just normal for aged wood to creak once in a while.

You woke up earlier than usual, and spent that extra time in the kitchen whipping breakfast; you tried your hand at a typical British meal. Sausages, fried eggs, baked beans, grilled tomatoes and toasts soon fills, the aromas permeating the air. There’s a smile on your lips, as you’re visibly happy with the results. Not bad, for a first attempt.

You set the table, ignoring the noises happening behind the walls -old manor, old wood, just old wood - then leave the kitchen to fetch Brahms. You’re a bit early on the schedule, but you figure the doll will not mind. It means spending more time together, and wouldn’t that be fantastic? 

The stairs stretch before you, the wood creaking under the weight of your body. One step at the time, you reach the top before you catch something from the corner of your eyes. A shadow, large, appearing downstairs. 

You turn, unsure if you saw correctly. You’re alone in here, you would have heard it if someone came through the door. There was no way- 

The floor seems to give out under you; when you turned, you did it fast. Too fast, however. And now, you lost your footing.

A scream escapes you before you feel the edges of the stairs hitting at your body. 

White dots flashes before your eyes, and the last thing you see is a looming figure. 

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

The aching of your body is the first thing you feel the moment you open your eyes. Bruises are probably forming all over your limbs, coloring your skin in various shades of blue and purple. A groan escape your lips as you try to sit up. But the bed is way too inviting, coaxing to stay within its safety. And so, you lay back down… before shooting back up, despite the pain reverberating through your whole body.

Why are you in a bed?

There’s a chair next to the bed. That’s new. By the looks of it, this is your room; you never had a chair in here. How did this -

A gasp, then the sound of rushed footsteps, snaps you back from your thoughts. Hands are on your shoulders, pushing you back onto the mattress. 

‘’You shouldn’t move!’’ the voice is masculine, too rasp to be the delivery boy. You can finally focus on the man in front of you, the one who seemingly saved you. 

His clothes appear to be run down, spotted with stains here and there, his hair a mess of dark curls. But what really catch your attention is the porcelain mask pressed on his face, hiding his identity from you. Though, you do not need to see his features to know who exactly stands before you. The mask too similar to that doll’s face, and green eyes peaking through the holes reminding you of that painting in the hallway.

‘’You’re alive.’’

Though shocked, you remain calm while Brahms sit back on the chair. He’s not meeting your eyes, preferring to stare at his hands. Fingers are twirling together, nails picking at his skin. Everything in his body language, from the way he’s ached over to his breathing, tells you he’s nervous.

‘’Did you carry me here?’’ There’s a pregnant pause before the masked man nod. ‘’I appreciate it, Brahms. I will need to see a doctor, that wasn’t a pretty fall and-’’

He’s up before you can even finish, hands on your shoulders again as a way to keep you down. There’s panic clouding his pretty green eyes. ‘’You can’t leave! You can’t leave me, it’s against the rules!’’ The male voice from earlier is gone, instead replaced with a pleading, child-like tone. It seems so foreign, strange, coming from such a large man. 

You place your hands on his, squeezing lightly in reassurance. ‘’I need to make sure I don’t have a concussion - a brain injury. It would be really bad if I had one. You understand that, Brahms?’’ There’s a tentative nod from him, but he doesn’t let go. If anything, he grips you harder. 

‘’I will nurse you back to health. I will, I really will. You can’t leave me. Pretty Y/N, you can’t leave’’.

There’s not much you can do, not with Brahms forcing you down on the bed, hovering above you. Though you just met him, or at least the flesh version of him, you’re positive he would try anything to keep you here, in the manor. 

He must realize you’re pondering on what to do next, because he backs away from you. Brahms sits back on the chair, slightly shaking - you wonder why - before taking hold of your hand. He presses your palm against the side of his face, eyes finding yours and pleading silently.

‘’Okay’’ you relent after a while. ‘’Okay Brahms, no leaving. But I do need to see a doctor. Is that alright? I can call them here, they will make sure I’m not injured.’’

There’s a shadow of doubt crossing his eyes while he remains silent, most likely thinking over your words. ‘’Can I still take care of you?’’ he asks. Though it hurts your whole being, you let out a giggle. 

‘’Of course you can, Brahms.’’

You will have to ask him where he has been all this time, if he was the reason behind all the creaks you heard. But for now, you simply enjoy having him fuss over you.

[shurisneakers]

shut in [8]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, guns, anxiety

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: oh my god oh my god sam stans how are we feeling djkghdfjkhgdf. no thoughts only sam wilson in ep1 of tfatws <333

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Hey, I’m just going to step out for today.��� You looked up from the doodle you were making on the corner of the paper. “Catch you later? Just find me if you need anything.”

“You okay?” You automatically sat up straighter, blanket creasing under you. Something was amiss in his body language.

“Yeah, just-” He seemed like he was struggling for words. “-Brooklyn.”

You didn’t get what he was making a reference to until it suddenly dawned on you.

It was the codeword he had suggested right at the beginning of your time in the house. If he was in danger you were sure he’d tell you, at least an inkling of information.

But no, this was for some time alone, further confirmed by the distant look in his eyes.

“Oh.” You blinked. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here if you need.”

He gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, turning around and leaving the room.

You were left staring after him, the drawing you were making of the house layout discarded on the bed. You were working on strategies, vantage points- anything that could help in case something went wrong.

Was it because of the dumb ‘moment’ you had shared two days ago? It didn’t seem like it because he hadn’t brought it up at all and God knows you would never. Was it something else that had happened, something you did?

Stop overthinking. He probably just needs a day to himself.

You had spent almost a month in each other’s company and he had never once complained. He had a tendency to be petty about minor inconveniences, like you trying to watch a movie when his favourite segment on the local news channel was going on. He liked the cooking show they hosted.

He had never made it a point to specifically tell you that he needed some time to himself, much less use the word.  

“Get yourself together,” you whispered to yourself, shaking off the nagging feeling you had.

If he had an issue, he would have voiced it. He never shied away from doing that before and you knew he wouldn’t start now.

You forced yourself to think about something else, grabbing the copy of American Gods you had already gone over once before but were subjecting to a reread. Opening the page you had last left it at, you were determined to distract yourself.

Nearly twenty minutes later and exactly zero pages since you had started, you realised that no matter how much you forced yourself to get into it, you went over the same line over and over again, not a single word registering in your head.

“Motherfucker,” you groaned, letting the book fall on your face. You took a long look outside the window, mind drifting.

It was a nice day out. Maybe some sun would help.

You lifted your legs off the bed, taking your book with you to the kitchen. You could get a nice sandwich-- the same as the last three fuckin’ weeks but you digressed-- a glass of water, and you could sit outside for a while. A mini picnic.

You opened a new packet of sliced bread, taking two out before stopping. You pondered over whether you should make him a sandwich for when he returned, knowing that he didn’t eat lunch before he left.

You thought about it for a good minute before rolling your eyes, pulling out two additional slices to make him one as well. It was just a sandwich. It wasn’t a big deal.

Tucking your book under your arm, you carried your lunch and a glass of water to the patio around the back.

The wind rustled the leaves and the sun wasn’t harsh. The low buzz of insects was the only sound that kept you company.

The air was crisp and you instantly felt better than you had all day in the room.

Setting your stuff down on the bench, you sat down, inhaling deeply.

The book suddenly didn’t seem so impossible to complete as you tried once more, slipping into the pages easily. Even after you finished your food, you continued to lounge about there, too engrossed and content to move.

You didn’t notice the afternoon go by, evening coming and going just as swiftly. You swatted at the occasional fly but nothing else bothered you.

It felt like summer break. At least what you thought it would feel like. You never had one, being homeschooled about things from various people in the organization. There wasn’t a singular, long break. You were just forced to adapt.

You didn't know how to deal with the suffocating realisation of knowing there were so many things you missed out on. It grew the longer you spent time away. You just shoved it away, forcing yourself to deal with it another day.

He comes back when the sky is slipping into shades of orange, a backpack on his shoulder. There was a patch of sweat around his neck and his head was hung low as he walked.

“Hey,” you hoped it didn't look like you were waiting for him. It could easily be taken as you camping out there, waiting for your husband to return from a hard day in the fields.

Sam looked up at your greeting. You noted that the bruise on his nose was starting to change colour but the swelling had reduced from how bad it used to be.

“Left you a sandwich on the counter if you’re hungry,” you added. He nodded in acknowledgement, making his way up the stairs and into the house without another word.

You let out an exhale, feeling a little better knowing that he was at least back in one piece. No reason to believe otherwise other than the anxiety you had developed over imagining the worst case scenarios.

You picked up your book again, intending to finish off the last bit before you went back inside for the day.

About half an hour later Sam re-emerged from the house, your attention snapping to him as the door opened and shut. He had changed into a new pair of clothes, looking a little cleaner like he was fresh outta the shower. He had a sandwich in his hand that he had already taken a few bites out of. You wondered if it was the one you left for him.

You didn’t expect him to take a seat next to you on the bench. He didn’t look at you or open his mouth to talk so you followed suit. You continued reading, or at least tried to, as he just sat there, finishing his sandwich without any kind of other interaction.

There was a strange tension he wasn’t addressing. He instead leaned back, arms crossed behind his neck to support his neck and closed his eyes. His foot tapped against the wooden floor and rather than getting annoyed, you found solace in the repetition.

“They recruited me on this day,” Sam said to no one in particular. His eyes were still closed and his feet still tapped against the ground. “Parents died when I was a kid, I got shifted around orphanages and homes a lot. Finally Ransone had someone pick me up.”

You closed your book softly, setting it down beside you. That’s what was bothering him.

Secret adoption is what they called it officially in the business, but around the organization it was just known as the recruitment process. Every record of Sam being alive would have been destroyed to maintain anonymity.

To the world he just… disappeared.

It was a day that clearly brought with it so much pain. You were too young to remember when you joined, and no one had kept track either. You supposed it was for the good.

It was supposed to be a happy day, one filled with new beginnings. Maybe that’s what he would have thought when he got picked. It’s what you did.

“I’m sorry,” you said, not having anything else to offer. You relieved your memories everyday in your head. Having a morbid anniversary of sorts would no doubt drain the life out of you; remembering one singular day that would trigger the rest of the decisions you made in your life.

He didn’t say anything in return. You turned your attention to the sky, finding it easier to look at that than the disturbed look on his face.

“Do you regret this?” he asked out of the blue.

“All of it,” you replied, without skipping a beat.

“Every single one, huh?” Sam’s one eye opened to peer at you.

“It wasn’t up to me to take someone’s life away.” You were just a child. You knew nothing other than what you were taught; so then why was it so fucking hard to forgive your past self for straying into this. “Even once I realised that I couldn’t leave.”

You didn’t form any relationships while you worked with Ransone. Whoever you did allow yourself to care for ended up dead or worse, sometimes as a cruel lesson to not make friends in the organization you worked in because all they served as were distractions and liabilities. Others were plain scum; people who you knew were using you but you didn’t care. The loneliness hurt worse.

“What about you?”

“I’d give anything to go back and change things,” he admitted. He didn’t have a say either. It didn’t make things easier.

“You regret all of ‘em too?”

“Mostly,” he said. “One of them I don’t.”

“That one must have deserved it then,” you deduced. It was the only logical explanation you could think of; the worst of the worst.

“Nah. I let him go.”

It took a while to register what he said.

“What?” You twisted your body to look at him.

“First mission I ever did.”

His hands were shaking lightly, barely holding on to the gun. This wasn’t what he was taught. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

He had already managed to get his way into the house through the back. His partner had taken care of most of it and Sam only had to knock people out. He hadn’t had to kill anyone yet.

But now his partner was injured outside the door. Quick shot to the leg, a punch in the face and he was out cold. Sam was already in the master bedroom by the time it happened. He had no idea about where his partner was, only the crippling fear of being left alone and the nerves from the threat posed to him if this didn’t go right.

He knew he didn’t have enough time. He had only a few minutes to kill him and get out of there before his family returned.

The man itself was sitting at the study table, his back towards Sam. Just pull the trigger and get out of here. It was deadly silent.

“I know you’re here to kill me,” the man said suddenly. Sam nearly jumped but instead tightened the grip on the gun.

“Stay where you are.” He sounded confident.

“I’m not planning on going anywhere.” His chair swiveled around, letting him face Sam. His hair was white with a beard that matched. He was dressed down in his pajamas, a robe covering him. He didn’t look nervous.

“Stop talking.”

“You’re younger than what I expected,” the man observed, not paying heed to what Sam was in. He was a considerable distance away. “You’re not even legal yet, are you? I got kids, I would know.”

Sam didn’t say a word, only lifted his gun up to align with his forehead. “I said, stop talking.”

“I’ve made mistakes. Several, actually,” he mused, “It’s why your boss sent you here. I’ve accepted my fate.”

“Then it should be easy.”

“Oh, it never is,” the man chuckled. “It doesn’t get lighter. You learn to ignore it but it’ll weigh on you for the rest of your life.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. It would get easier. It had to.

“I doubt that’s what you heard, however,” he continued. “Ransone’s a bit… unstable. It’s in his blood, but you- you don’t look like you could live with it.”

Ransone’s history was well known enough that rival gang leaders knew it too, apparently. The man would have been delighted at his infamous reputation.

Just shoot him. Just shoot him and end this.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, taking a sip from the tumbler he had in his hand. “You’re going to be the last person I talk to. It’d be nice to have a name.”

“Sam,” he whispered, inwardly cursing himself.

“Sam. That’s a strong name,” the man said, clicking the roof of his mouth with his tongue. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Sam?”

It wasn’t.

“I don’t have a choice.” He hated how defeated he sounded. It was a weakness.

“They want you to believe that. It takes away your freedom. I would know, I’ve used it.” The man smiled, setting down his glass. “I’ll tell you this though, Sam. You always have a choice.”

“Stop talking, man.” Sam pulled the safety off.

“Once you go down this way, there’s no way you can escape. Someone will always have to die; either him or you.”

“That’s not true.” He could leave at any time. He just needed-

“You’ll see for yourself.” The man leaned back on his chair, resigned. “But for now, go ahead. I’ll make it easy for you.”

He simply closed his eyes and sat back.

You waited for Sam to continue.

“Couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “Son of a bitch got in my head and I knew what he was doing too. Told him to get the fuck out before my partner shot him in the face.”

“Does Ransone know?” You were still reeling from the incident he recounted. You didn't know what else to say.

“Holds it over me every damn day,” he scoffed. “Some fucked up way of saying that I owe him one.”

To be frank, you were surprised Sam was still alive to tell you. Everyone knew that Ransone forgiven the first mistake someone made, but this was huge. If it were anyone else, he would have had someone try out a hundred different ways to push Sam to the brink of death and back; having him begging for the release that death would bring.

“He hasn’t ever cashed in that favour?”

“He did. Had me take out the leader of the Ten Rings after that.”

“So then why did you still continue?”

“I did something extremely dangerous a couple of years ago that he found out about recently. Used that to get me to come for this mission.”

He didn’t elaborate what he meant and you didn’t ask him to. You supposed it was a story for another day. This was heavy enough.

“He wants to get rid of me as much as I want to get away from him, trust me. We’re the weird, toxic relationship those self-help Instagram pages warned you about.” Trust Sam to make a dumb joke during a conversation like this. “Probably the only time someone from the gang let their target go and not died.”

That wasn’t as true as he thought he was but you didn’t want to seem like you were one-upping him. You didn’t want him to think you were making this about you.

“You remember the big break you were talking about?” you tread carefully, gauging his reaction before you continued. “The one that pushed me up the ranks or whatever.”

He gave a small hum of acknowledgement, bringing his hands from behind his head to fold across his chest.

“Similar story, ‘cept Ransone doesn’t know.”

“What?” His eyes shot open. “How?”

“I was so tired of him treating me like a child. Everyone around who joined after me was out there doinghardcore missions and I was stuck with petty shit.” You didn’t know any better. You wished you had. “So he told me if I made it through this one, he’d send me on more.”

This wasn’t your first mission. You had handled hits before, mostly in the shadows, from a distance.

This was different. It was broad daylight, waiting behind a wall near the gated entrance of the house for a car to pull up.

A challenge, Ransone had posed, with strict instructions to do it in broad daylight. If you got out of this undetected, he’d consider sending you on more sophisticated missions.

“Highly stealthy. They’re dangerous,” you were warned. “You won’t know what hit you if you’re caught off your game.”

The low rumble of the car outside the gate alerted you of your target’s arrival. The gates weren’t going to open, the guards were dead.

The car stopped, waiting for the path to open up. When it didn’t the car’s engine slowed to a stop. The man in the driver’s seat got out to open the gate, giving you a clear shot.

You took a deep breath, clenching your eyes shut for a second before taking aim.

The body hit the gravel and you quickly made your way to the car. You could see the woman in the backseat gaping at where the man was standing a few seconds ago. She was struggling against the door, trying to escape.

She finally succeeded, the door opening suddenly as she stumbled over herself trying to get out.

“Stay there,” you commanded. She slowly looked up at you, face white as a sheet.

“Please,” she croaked. “Don’t hurt us.”

“I’m sorry.” You truly were.

Her face changed, dropping the facade immediately. She just looked on in acceptance, not making an effort to move. Manipulative. She almost had you convinced

You held the gun over her, pulling the trigger. A single shot. Her body slumped over.

You stared at her in silence, expressionless. You let out an exhale, tucking the gun back into the waist of your pants, stepping over her body to leave.

A small, staggering breath made you stop in your tracks. It was so slight you barely heard it. You took a step back, trying to trace where it came from.

You ducked your head to peer into the car, your heart stopping. Your hand instinctively reached for your weapon.

“What the-” you muttered, facing a boy who looked only a few years younger than you. He was staring straight ahead, muscles in his jaw tight.

The son wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be abroad, according to the case file. Unless there were two of them you didn’t know about, this boy wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Listen,” you began, but he didn’t look at you. Just stared straight ahead, body trembling. He was scared. He didn’t show it.

“Show no mercy,” Ransone’s voice rang in your head.

“He’s a child,” you murmured to yourself. Your gun felt heavy in your hand.

Show no mercy.

You could only imagine what would be in store for you if you returned to Ransone with some tale of sympathy. This boy was only a few years younger than you. He didn’t have anything to do with this.

Show no mercy.

“Kid,” you called out. He slowly turned his head. “Go on. Get out of here.”

“What?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“Leave. You can’t be seen if someone comes back,” you urged. “I won’t be able to help you.”

“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.

“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”

When he didn’t shift, you slammed the hood of the car, scaring him enough to pull at the door and stagger out of the car.

You turned your back to him, not waiting to see where he was going. The more deniability you had, the better.

“Did he make it?”

“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.

“And Ransone doesn’t know.”

“There’s no record of this kid. He thinks he was at boarding school.” You shrugged. “Wasn’t going to correct him either.”

“If he did find out-” Sam trailed off.

“I’d be dead,” you concluded. “Being his favourite wouldn’t matter.”

“Why was it such a big deal, this mission?”

“She was a part of a major gang that Ransone was losing to.”

Sam just nodded knowingly, looking ahead again. You knew he’d done missions like this as well. Things like this were common so it didn’t need further elaboration.

“This job sucks,” he let out.

You gave a short laugh. That was an understatement.

“I want out. Can’t keep doin’ this for much longer,” he continued, however, to your surprise. “Don’t wanna keep doin’ this.”

You bit your lip, eyebrows knitted in concern. “You will.”

“How?” You hadn’t seen him like this before, this hint of desperation in his tone that left as quickly as it came. “I’ve tried, everything just comes up short.”

“I’ll help you.” You wanted to, God you did.

“You gonna kill him for me?” He looked at you. “‘Cause that’s really the only way out of this.”

If you were pushed to the limit, if he was on his knees in front of you and there was a gun in your hand pointed at him; would you be able to pull the trigger? Would you be able to kill the only constant you’d had for more than half your life?

“I can’t,” you muttered, dejection making its way into your thoughts.

“I know,” Sam said softly, “I wouldn’t ask you to either.”

You took a moment to observe him. The sun did him good. There was a soft glow to his skin, the colours of the sunset dancing in his dark eyes. Laugh lines were becoming more prominent around them, only adding to its charm.

He was a good man. He deserved better.

“I’ll find a way,” you sounded determined, “I promise.”

You didn’t say that very often. Your word didn’t mean a lot to people in the business, but it seemed to, to him.

“Thank you.” He appeared taken aback but didn’t show it in his words.

You simply sent him a smile, a reassurance. You knew what you had to do, just weren’t sure how.

He was right. There wasn’t a way out of it other than the one he proposed, but it wasn’t an option. You had to find another.

You would. You’d figure it out.

“It’s Cinnamon, by the way,” he said without any context.

You looked at him in question.

“My embarrassing nickname.” This was not where you saw the conversation heading but you were delighted all of a sudden. “My ma used to call me that all the damn time. Mortifying.”

“Cinnamon and Buttercup.” You didn’t bother hiding the grin that spread across your face. “World’s best assassins.”

“If that name ever leaves this conversation, I’ll know who to murder.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” you said playfully, nudging his shoulder.

He shrugged, face relaxed. “T’was worth a shot.”

An unintentional pun you snickered at. You didn’t tease him any further, just filed the name away as a memory. Maybe you’d use it later.

“Have you ever let anyone go after that?” You didn’t want to keep coming back to this conversation but you liked having someone to relate to.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “Didn’t want to test my luck.”

“Me too.” One had been enough. You lived in fear for so long, waiting for someone to pull the plug and tell him what you’d done. That fear only grew everyday, finding a place at the deepest corner of your mind to fester.

“It’s what I meant when I said Serpentine had a motive to want me dead,” Sam said, piquing your interest once more.

“Huh?”

“The man I was supposed to kill- he was their old head. He disappeared after that and no one heard from him but it pissed off everyone, right from Ransone to their stupid gang’s janitor,” he explained, your eyes going wide with every word. “So the irony is, if we’re right, I might have led us into this situation. They’re looking for revenge.”

“Holy shit,” you uttered under your breath.

“I just assumed he died of old age if someone didn’t get to him first. He looked like he was one birthday away from the grave anyway.”

“How are you still alive, Sam?” you asked in wonder.

“I’d do it again.” He laughed, a deep one from his stomach.

He was reckless, clearly. Happily and unashamedly so. And if you continued to hang out with him after this was over, he’d probably get you killed in some stunt or two.

But maybe you’d deal with that if the time came. 

He leaned back again, this time no creases on his forehead from stress. He looked at peace.

You sat together in silence. You occasionally stole glances at him as the sun set in front of you, a small smile on your face.

You leaned your head on his shoulder tentatively. You could feel him tilt his head to look at you and you prepared to have him ask you to move.

It never came. Instead, he scooted closer to you, letting you rest against him more comfortably. Your heart skipped a beat; barely but surely. 

A realisation quickly hit you, suddenly before consuming you. Your stomach sank.  

“Fuck.”

Next part

[orbitariums]

love lessons | neville longbottom x black slytherin reader

omg this was requested sooo long ago and i’m only just completing it. reader, whoever u are, i hope you’re still out there to enjoy this in full <333

here’s a lovely playlist in honor of neville longbottom— i didn’t make it but i adore it!

love lessons | neville longbottom + black slytherin! reader

     You kicked the crunchy, orange-hued fall leaves underneath your brand new combat boots, which were laced tight all the way up to the top just like you liked them to be. You shrugged your crochet cardigan around your shoulders, the cold breeze nipping at the nape of your neck. You scrunched your shoulders up as you folded your arms, irritated by the uncooperative weather. You actually liked being outside on the empty quidditch fields, it was the one place you felt you could be alone with your thoughts. The rest of the Slytherins were always rather loud and obnoxious, constantly trying to one up the next person. You preferred staying to yourself, only proving yourself when necessary, which hardly ever was. 

     People, including the other Slytherins, tended to stay out of your way. You were quiet and smart, but it was no secret that your mouth was quick and sharp, and that if you ever were challenged, you were very no-nonsense. You ended things just with the bat of an eye, or a cool glance in someone else’s direction. No one really bothered you much for that reason— they knew what you were capable of. Still, you always felt crowded in the buzzing, magic-filled halls of the castle, so you spent as much time alone outside as possible.

    You had just settled down in the stands, quill and journal tucked safely in your lap so you could reflect through your writing, when you sensed another person in the quidditch field. Looking up, you could see clearly that it was Neville Longbottom, the Gryffindor in the same year as you. He was trudging around quite stupidly, lugging his broom at his side, and glancing up worrisomely at the sky every now and then. You scoffed as you watched him, rolling your eyes. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but every part of you had noticed him, and it felt like his presence was a complete invasion of space. All you wanted was to be alone, and here he was ruining that. 

Neville noticed you in the stands and went red in the face, apologizing,

    “Sorry, I-I didn’t realize anyone was here, I was going to practice on my broomstick, I’m quite terrible at broom riding. I’ll just be going, then, sorry to bother you—”

You rolled your eyes, shouting back to him,

    “It’s fine. Just keep to yourself, don’t make any noise and we’ll be fine.”

Neville seemed grateful, huffing out a great sigh of relief and nodding appreciatively your way,

    “Sure, sure! Thanks!”

    “Whatever,” you muttered to yourself low under your breath.

    You went back to journaling while Neville steadied himself on his broom, hoisting himself up into the air and trying to keep his balance as he trudged half-heartedly in the air. You weren’t paying much attention to the boy, so any awareness of him disappeared as you journaled. You liked to spend time writing in your journal, just getting your thoughts out and reflecting on your life. You had no one to talk to about your life, as all your Slytherin friends, if you could even call them that, were much too self absorbed and not at all understanding. You liked solitude because it was your only way to find peace, your only way to feel understood. All you had was you, and that was all that mattered. You were just getting to the next page in your journal when something interrupted you— a loud, hoarse scream that seemed to be growing louder and louder, followed by a sudden thud. 

    Confused, you looked up, and when you saw the blob writhing around in pain on the ground, you realized instantly that it was that pitiful Longbottom boy, who you’d long since forgotten about. Your first reaction was annoyance— he had been doing so well all this time making no noise and not bothering you, and now he’d ruined it. But then, your humanity settled in and you were worried, and so you rushed over to him. With a huff, you kneeled beside him, and he rolled over pathetically and looked up at you, wincing. 

    “Ohhh,” he groaned, and you sighed loudly, rolling your eyes. 

No one else was around, so now you’d have to take him to the infirmary. After all, you couldn’t just leave him there. Most Slytherins would expect you to, but you were at least a little decent. 

    “You idiot,” you spat, still unable to conceal your irritation at your alone time being so abruptly interrupted. 

    “‘M sorry, I fell off my broom,” he said hastily, and you rolled your eyes,

    “Yeah, I can see that. Come on, get up, I’ll take you to the hospital wing.” Poor Neville tried getting up, but by the way he was wincing and moaning, you could tell that that wouldn’t be possible. You sighed again, burying your head in your palm and rubbing your temples, thinking, Merlin, if I help this blithering idiot, I better get perfect marks this semester.

    “Oh, honestly,” you growled, standing up and reaching your hand out for him to grab.

He hobbled up and you pulled him up to your height. 

    “Put your arm around me,” you commanded. He looked at you as if confused. “Just do it.”

He slung his arm around you, and you suddenly felt all the weight of his body on you at once. He was limping and hobbling around, barely able to walk on his own. You sighed, heaving and hawing as you trudged through the empty quidditch field and through the halls, hissing at any one who made your journey any longer than it needed to be.

    “Out of the way!” you bit at a couple Hufflepuffs gathered in the middle of the hallway. 

They cleared the way immediately, and you made your way to the hospital wing, where you were met by a worried Madam Pomfrey, whose brows immediately knotted together when she saw you and Neville.

    “Oh, my dear! What happened to you?” she asked, sort of eyeing you in a way that told you she was suspicious you’d done something to him.

You rolled your eyes.

    “He fell off his broom. Do they just let anyone into Hogwarts these days, honestly?” you said the last part under your breath, watching as Madam Pomfrey escorted Neville away. 

You followed because you figured if you’d wasted this much time already, you might as well see this through. You at least wanted to know if the bloke would be okay. As you sat beside him, watching Madam Pomfrey observe him and declare his injury a broken leg, you could see the color drain from Neville’s face. He started to frown and whine,

    “I knew I shouldn’t have tried getting on my broom by myself, I knew something like this would happen. Idiot.”

    “Yes, well, it’s good that you wanted to improve your skills, dear, but-” Madam Pomfrey glanced down at Neville’s twisted leg. “Please do so with proper supervision next time. You’ll have to stay here and recover for the next few days, but you’ll be alright. I’ll be back.”

You glared at Neville, and he finally looked over at you apologetically, tripping over his words as per usual, 

    “Th-thank you, really, thank you, I-I wouldn’t have known what to do, I’d probably be there for hours alone. I’m really sorry, I really didn’t mean to bother you, you seemed to be-”

    “Save it, honestly,” you sighed.

Neville’s face went a few shades darker, and he nodded. 

    “Well… I-I’m Neville.”

    “Yeah, I know who you are.”

    “Y-you do?” Neville looked surprised, raising his eyebrows. 

You nodded calmly, 

    “Yeah. We’ve got potions together, don’t you pay attention? You get yelled at by Snape almost every lesson because you can’t make potions to save your life.”

Neville blushed again here, but explained himself,

    “Yeah, I-I know. I just didn’t think you would’ve noticed me, that’s all…”

    “Yeah, only reason I notice you is because you’re an idiot,” you chuckled to yourself, though you were almost meaning to make a joke between the two of you.

Neville smiled sheepishly, 

    “Well… I know you too. You’re YN. The Slytherin girl.”

    “That is correct. Save the formalities, Longbottom, you owe me.”

Neville started talking incredibly fast, 

    “Yes, yes of course, of course. I-I’ll do anything, I’ll… I could help you with Herbology, I know you hate it.”

You made a face, squinting at him.

    “How do you know I hate Herbology?” you interrogated.

Neville laughed nervously, 

    “I overheard you talking about it in Potions once. I’m actually okay at Herbology, I could help you out.”

You looked long and hard at Neville. Typically, you’d have no interest in being tutored by anyone, especially someone like him. You liked your solitude. You’d honestly rather struggle on your own. But, some part of you told you that this might be worth it. So, you’d give it a shot. 

    “Fine,” you said, after a long moment of silence. “But you better make it worth my time. Meet me in the library, Thursday evening.”

You stood up, and Neville nodded frantically, watching as you began to leave,

    “Yes- I’ll see you there.”

You were due to meet Neville in the library in a few minutes. It was after class on a Friday, so everyone was looking forward to the weekend, and hanging out in the Slytherin common room being loud and vivacious. You on the other hand, still had your school robes on and you were carrying a stack of books in your arms, trying to discreetly make your way to the library to meet Neville. You didn’t want any of the Slytherins finding out what you were doing and with whom, not because you cared, but because you knew they’d never shut up and stop being so childish. 

    “Where’re you going, YN?” shouted out Draco Malfoy from his typical corner of the room, surrounded by his idiotic goons. 

    “Library,” you replied shortly without looking at him, making your way out of the common room and down to the library.

You found Neville there sitting at a table near the Herbology section of the library. True to his nature, he had a plant in front of him whose leaves were stretching out in all different directions, moving like squiggly arms. You sat down at the table, but he was so immersed in the plant that he didn’t even acknowledge you. You waited a moment, watching him with a raised eyebrow, but he still didn’t budge. Growing annoyed, you slammed your hand on the table in front of him, making him jerk up in surprise and look at you with wide eyes.

You rolled your eyes when you made eye contact, shaking your head,

    “Still as much of an idiot as you were the last time, I see.”

    “S-sorry, I’ve just been watching this plant for a few weeks now, he’s only a baby.”

    “I’m kidding, Neville,” you said, and for the first time you cracked a smile that was more than just a slight tug of your lips.

Flustered, Neville’s cheeks grew red, and he shook his head, chuckling,

    “Right. Err, so. We could… get started, if you’d like?”

    Surprisingly, Neville Longbottom made for a great teacher. He was actually interested in the subject and while you thought he was insane for being so wrapped up in something you found mind numbingly boring, you couldn’t help but be engaged in the lesson. He made something you hated into something interesting for the hour and a half you were in the library together. You even found yourself softening up around him, laughing quietly and sharing smiles. His awkward demeanor could never really die, but his walls seemed to fall a little as he tutored you, as if he were comfortable. You found yourself admiring him even, and who were you, a Slytherin, to be admiring the silly Gryffindor boy like this? Hell, he was even a little cute. A little. 

When you’d finally finished, you had pages chock full of notes and textbooks that were annotated to the core. Neville was just asking if you wanted to meet again, and fretting over whether or not he’d done alright when you interrupted him, turning fully in your chair to face him.

    “Neville,” you said, and he cut himself off, pausing to look up at you. There was a slight pause and silence hung in the air before you continued, a bit sheepishly, which was not in your nature. But you also weren’t used to being as nice as you were about to be. “Thank you, really. Thanks loads. You’re… you’re great… at this. Really…” you awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. “Er, thanks.”

Neville’s face was burning bright red and he knew it, because he started stammering and looking anywhere but directly at you. Normally, you would’ve been irritated, but this time around, you couldn’t help but grin amusedly.

    “Er- it-it’s really nothing, ‘m not all that good, just—”

    “We should meet again, yeah?” you interrupted him again, and he looked up.

    “Huh?” he asked stupidly.

    “We should meet up again?” 

    “Oh, of course, if-if you’d like, no pressure.”

    “Of course there’s no pressure on me, Neville, I came up with the idea,” you snorted, shaking your head. It was hard not to find him adorable, honestly. 

    “Right,” Neville blushed again, scratching the nape of his neck. 

    “Maybe we could share a pumpkin juice,” you smiled, meeting his eye as he snapped his head up in shock, both your eyes meeting with a warm sparkle. 

Neville cracked a grin, goofy and wide,

    “Yes. I-I’d like that.”

You smirked, gathering your things and getting up out of your chair. Perhaps there was more to Neville Longbottom than you’d previously thought, and some part of you was desperate to figure it out. 

    “See you around,” you gave him a three-fingered wave and smiled softly at him, the softest smile that had been brought to your lips in a long time, its warmth melting some of the ice in your heart and blowing Neville away.

[freakygirlie]

🌙 so currently it seems that J is very focused on getting what he wants, apparently regarding emotional fulfillment. So it seems that they were having issues deciding how to move forward with their dynamic, which makes sense now that both have different jobs and are having to be physically separate. I've had an itk info abt them deciding to re-define their relationship bc it was causing a lot of emotional burden, not sure how true it is but it fits well with the reading. They're together but-

+  🌙 instead of feeling the pressure to behave in a traditional way, I guess they apparently decided to be more free in terms of their relationship labels, but not sure how true that is. Regarding to tarot, it does seem there was an important decision made, and that it mainly came from J, and Jen went with it but didn't necessarily want to. Jen seems to be more emotionally sensitive in terms of their connection, while J seems to be more practical and assertive (as in no shades of gray).

-

Honestly the fact that they’re away from each other for so long is probably screwing with their thinking ability a bit. 

I guess they apparently decided to be more free in terms of their relationship labels,- I feel like they do want to be more open, and we have seen a lot of activity from the both of them, so hey i’ll look forward to the future<33

+ 🌙 in general, I think the new working/living dynamic has affected them greatly. During quarantine I checked their emotional states often and Jared would always appear to be in absolute tiredness and anxiety. He seemed much better now tho. Atm they appear to be physically apart. I think J is much less comfortable with the whole deal than Jen, which I think is why Jen is always the one playing with fire during cons, and J is more alarmed to do that, tho he makes dirty jokes, he seems less cont-

 +  🌙 comfortable talking about their relationship and G as well. He always fumbles and gives really strange and dry answers, while Jen seems much more comfortable giving profound and heartfelt answers. So it could be that J is more like "no, let's just keep everything the way it is" and Jen accepts but doesn't necessarily prefers that. Tarot says J likes to remain comfortable and tries his best to avoid drastic changes. Jen seems more detached and willing to face changes.

-

I feel like this makes sense. They’re emotional states were pretty much wack during quarantine, and there were probably much decision making and plans to make/do. Not much to say here other than I agree.

+  individually, Tarot shows Jared feeling very pleased with a new beginning in terms of his love life (fits well if the thing about them redefining their relationship to be something less anxiety-inducing is true). Funnily enough, it shows Jensen is apprehensive about stepping into new territory. It fits interestingly well. As for the current dynamic: they seem to be in a state of structuring a more well balanced and stable relationship, that fits better with their chosen lifestyle.

+  🌙 for their future I see they will indeed find more balance ☺️. This is great, as I cannot even begin to imagine the burden that it must be to have this type of relationship. Glad they will eventually come to a place of better alignment. As per beards: J seems to be in a escape-state regarding Gen, although the dynamic is comfortable and calm atm. She seems to be getting what she wants-whatever that is lol. Jen is in a state of indecision regarding D, she seems to be going through an end -

about the Gen thing, I’m pretty sure it’s something to do with her being on Walker, she’s not anymore and to an extent she’s getting the publicity she wants.

This is deffo new ground for J2 so i’m not surprised they have differing opinions/state of minds regarding what is happening. I’m assuming they’re figuring how to navigate alongside whatever changes are happening and how to take their relationship from here. 

for their future I see they will indeed find more balance ☺️. This is great, as I cannot even begin to imagine the burden that it must be to have this type of relationship- OH THANK LORD. I imagine all of this is highly stressful, difficult and involves lotsssss of emotional stuff but I do have faith in them, they’ll work it out, I love them and they love each other SO MUCH, so I know they’ll be okay<333

+ (About Dani and Jen) f some kind. Major transformation. And they both seem to be avoiding conflict with each other. 🤔 huh interesting, this got me wondering if there'll be a divorce in the future: right now there seems to be a lot of confusion in their marriage (real or not), and there seems to be no real resolution of this in the near future, and Jen will be facing demands (maybe feeling pressured to either end or continue their partnership?). Interesting

- They have the Chaos Machine project and the directing company, so that’s probably creating some conflict. We haven’t heard much from both of them so there’s no telling. Maybe there is a divorce somewhere in the future.

(i’m combining the remaining astro asks into one, the ones which are continued and in a few more posts we’ll be done) (if anyone doesn’t believe/like astrology you are free to blacklist the ‘astro j2 ask’ tag, or ignore this<3 tyyy)

[merryfortune]

Day 6

Social Interactionism 2021

Day 6: “I’d like to formally propose that you hug me.”

Event: @hugsaku​

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Ship: Aoi/Go/Yusaku

Word Count: 1.4k

Tags:  Post Canon, Canon Compliant, Fluff with a Little Bit of Angst

AN: Big thank you to Serry for hosting Hugsaku, thank you so much, I’ve really enjoyed participating <333

  “Bye, bye, Shima, see you tomorrow.” Aoi said.

  Naoki scratched the back of his head and laughed, “Yeah, see you two Duel Club slackers tomorrow.”

  Yusaku exhaled funnily hearing the slight hypocrisy in that statement but he waved goodbye to Naoki as well, who was no doubt thinking to himself how unfortunate it was that he didn’t live in that general direction like they did. Then, they could be a real trio going to and from school. Although, what he didn’t know was that Aoi didn’t live in that direction either, but she did have plans with the hot dog van. Plans involving hopefully reviving Aqua but that was getting ahead of things.

  As a pair, Yusaku and Aoi shuffled along. It was getting a bit late, the skyline was dyeing orange with the evening as they walked in silence to the park. It was a comfortable silence, however, as they were both introverts and both knew that if any developments had happened during the day, then they would have much to talk about later, so it was best to save their breath.

  Or, at least, that was the unspoken agreement before they happened along upon an unexpected encounter.

  They were close to the park now, having walked for about fifteen, maybe twenty, minutes and there were a fair few people fanned out along the paths and such. The old man under a tree, reading a book; the mother pushing along a stroller with groceries tucked under the carriage; and the office lady with a reusable cup of coffee in one hand and her smartphone in the other. A whole host of people and with mild interest, Aoi and Yusaku observed just one: the runner in a dark navy hoodie who was up against the iron fence, catching his breath.

  He pushed off against the fence with his two fists tucked in and his shoulders square. He was ready for another round of long-distance running, it seemed, as his pace was staunch and somewhat slow. He passed by Aoi and Yusaku by a shoulder and out of curiosity, both of them flicked their gazes up to him and they met his eyes. Heavy set, a steel blue. He blinked.

  “Onizuka Go.” Aoi gasped with recognition.

  He let go of the tension in his muscles that kept him tight and compact, ready to run and run for miles. He looked at them both, tentatively confused but had the courtesy to bring his hood down even though he liked to keep his eyes on the prize like a racehorse in blinders.

  “Do I know…?” he murmured before his eyes glistened. He recognised them back. Well, at least one of them. “You… Your Zaizen’s sister.” He turned his head to Yusaku and studied him closer. There was something familiar about him but he couldn’t place it and Yusaku, instinctively, shied away from the attention, all but scurrying to hide his identity – or, in this case, identities given it was Go. “And… do I know you?” he asked. “Like, from way, way back?”

  “Sort of…” Yusaku mumbled.

  Aoi glanced at him and Yusaku nodded awkwardly. “It’s good to meet you properly, Onizuka, it’s been a while.”

  “Y-Yeah,” he said, “and we never got that match, huh, Blue Angel?”

  “Yes, that is a shame.” Aoi said.

  Go rubbed the back of his neck, “I know I just had a breather, but I’m thinking we should sit down, maybe?”

  “I’d like that.” Yusaku piped up.

  They looked around and found an unoccupied garden bench in the park, in the shade of some trees. They sat, with not much space amongst them, with Yusaku in the middle, of all places. He felt just a little bit claustrophobic between them but did his best to withstand that middling pressure.

  Looking up at Go, even just in stolen glances, it was heartening to see that he had put some of his lost weight back on. He wasn’t quite as showstopping muscular as he once was but he had padded out to what looked good and healthy on him.

  He sat with his hands in his lap, twiddling his thumbs, and he looked at Yusaku, “So, you a fan?” he asked.

  “Kind of.” Yusaku replied. “My name is Fujiki Yusaku, but you might know me better as Playmaker.”

  Go’s eyes widened. He didn’t believe it – or maybe he didn’t want to believe it.

  “And just as I’m Blue Angel, as you know, I’m Blue Girl and Blue Maiden as well, but maybe you already knew.” Aoi added, she did her best to not sound wracked with surprise as she hadn’t been expecting Yusaku’s easy admission of his other self.

  “N-No, I believe it.” Go said but it seemed more to Yusaku than to Aoi.

  “I figure, since we have this chance to talk, you deserved to know.” Yusaku said.

  “Thanks.” Go said because he wasn’t sure what else to say.

  He hadn’t been expecting that Playmaker would be some gawky, awkward kid but it made sense to him that such a stoic person might be stoic because he was socially graceless more so than hardened and intense like a criminal.

  “No, I should be thanking you.” Yusaku said, feeling a little bit stronger and certain with what he wanted to use this opportunity for. “Or,” he added, “I should be apologising to you. But maybe both. I think both works so I’ll start with thank you. Thank you for trying your best to defend the Link VRAINS from the Knights of Hanoi. I was distraught when you were defeated by Revolver, admittedly, because I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “Playmaker…” Go breathed.

  Yusaku prickled. “I was scared. I tried pushing you – you and Aoi – away because I didn’t want to see you get hurt but that’s the thing about bonds, connections… even if you try your hardest to sever them all, push people away first, it just magnetises you to them all the more.”

  Go laughed. He tried not to sound bitter, but he did just a touch. He supposed that that was exactly what happened. He was pushed away by losing to Playmaker, by feeling unacknowledged by him, but that just made him go full throttle which in turn caused him to combust. But his laughter turned into a quiet smile.

  “I realise this doesn’t change the past but its how I felt – and continue to feel.” Yusaku said. He glanced at Aoi. “I don’t want you to feel left out, I’m sorry and thankful for you as well.” He told her.

  “It’s okay.” Aoi replied.

  “So, what now?” Go asked. “I still have a lot of my work-out routine to get through, sure you two have to hurry on along. But we should catch some up some more.”

  “Y-Yeah,” Yusaku stuttered out, words clogging in his throat only to turn into an awkward deluge, “but before you go, I formally propose that you should hug me.”

  Go laughed again. Playmaker was cute. His stoicism truly did not come from cruelty but from a place of hurt and awkwardness. Knowing that, his memories of their duel and other encounters made more sense to him in this new frame of context. His laughter was full-bellied and strong; Yusaku’s mouth twitched and then, without seemingly no warning, Go obliged.

  His arm flung up and then hooked around Yusaku with an energetic voracity. Go pulled Yusaku in close, to the crook of him and Aoi watched with a giggle. Yusaku stiffened as he had never been hugged quite so exuberantly before and Go grinned.

  “To better futures and all that, eh?” Go reckoned.

  Yusaku smiled as he put his hand on Go’s thick forearm, “Y-Yeah, something like that.” He said. “I’d really like to duel you again.”

  “I’d like that as well – oh and, Blue Angel, you get in here too, don’t want you feeling left out, we never got our Charisma match after all.” Go bellowed in good nature.

  “T-True, we never did.” Aoi agreed but she inclined to Go’s invitation.

  She leaned in on Yusaku, almost skittish, and hugged him from his other side. She put her hands on his shoulder and nuzzled in. Yusaku breathed with difficulty in the lock of Go’s arm but it was as strangely nice as it was overbearing. He smiled with hopeful thoughts.

[junhyukiscute]

to all the boys i’ve loved before (mcnd x reader)

100 followers special! thank you so much!

author note: thank you guys for 100+ followers!! i didn’t know how to express my gratitude so hopefully this ot5 mcnd x reader will help??? also this doesn’t fully follow the movie at all <333

my letters are my most secret possessions. i write them when i have a crush so intense, i don’t know what else to do. there are 5 total.

minjae, the star of my school’s football team and partner in english,

sungmin, the class clown who shows me magic tricks whenever i’m sad,

huijun, the shy nerd who helped me study for history when i was failing,

junhyuk, the artist who asked me to become a model for him,

and seongjun, but he’s my older sister’s boyfriend.

nobody knows about my crushes. no one except for me. until one fateful day.

“hey sis! you’re welcome,” your older brother, wooseok said.

“what do you mean?” you questioned while you ate your cereal.

“your letters, i sent them out,” he replied.

“WHAT?!” you slammed your hands on the table as you stood up, “wooseok, how did you even find those?!”

he grinned, “i was snooping through your closet to borrow some clothes and a box fell on me. i decided that since i’m such an amazing brother, i would send all those letters that were in the box to the guys you addressed. five guys, huh.”

“wooseok- those, those weren’t supposed to be sent out?! what’s wrong with you?” you cried out before grabbing your backpack to run to school. great, today was just not going to be your day, huh.

“good luck, lil sis,” wooseok cackled. you really were related to the devil. you prayed that you wouldn’t see any of the guys today.

your first period was pe, thank god. you shared the class with none of the boys. you were just walking around the track with your friend who was chattering very excitedly about this new rookie group’s comeback song called “spring”.

“hey (y/n), can i um, talk to you?” said a low voice. you widened your eyes as you turned around to see junhyuk in his tennis uniform. what was even worse was when you saw your mint green envelope in his right hand. oh great, you forgot that he was apart of the tennis team, who had practices during first period. your friend stopped talking and gasped as she pieced the situation together before wiggling her eyebrows at you and started to jog away. great. you were about to jog off with her but junhyuk grabbed your wrist before you could. “i read the letter last night and i was kinda shocked. did.. did you really mean it?” he asked with desperate eyes. his grip on your wrist tightened almost desperately as he grabbed your other free one with his, “please be honest with me and don’t give me any false hope.”

you gulped as your face turned red. “false hope..? junhyuk, i don’t understand..”

he sighed before looking at you again, “meet me at the tennis courts after school today. this isn’t finished,” he hesitantly let go of your wrists before waving to you with the letter in his hand, “see you later, (y/n).”

after the traumatic morning you had, it was second period. you walked slowly to class as it dawned upon you. great, you though, i have huijun in it. as you walked into the class, you avoided eye contact with everyone in class and waited for the teacher. the minutes felt like hours, but once your teacher came in, you let out the breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding in.

“okay class, take out the books in your desk and open to page 401,” your teacher yawned. you grabbed the book from the little space you had under your desk and a folded lined piece of paper fell out on your lap. “for (y/n)” it said in near handwriting. out of curiosity you opened it and it read with neat handwriting: hey (y/n), i received your letter. i didn’t know that you thought of me like that.. i feel the same. can we meet up at the top media cafe later to talk about this? love, huijun

“ahem, (y/n), is history that interesting?” the teacher crossed their arms. you got out of your shock from huijun’s small confession before shoving the paper in your backpack.

“uh- no, um i mean yes?” you meekly replied. the class laughed as the teacher shook their head before returning to the lesson. you snuck a glance at huijun who was writing diligently before looking up and waving slightly at you. you sighed before pulling out a pencil and paper.

it was passing period now and you were walking to your locker when you saw seongjun leaning against it while holding a brown paper envelope. nope, not today, you thought before turning the other way.

he caught sight of you before yelling, “(y/n), wait! i need to talk you!” you widened your eyes before running off to your next period: english. not a lot of people were there yet so you just sat at your desk and huffed. this day seemed to weird to be true. you buried your head in your arms. you weren’t even halfway done with the day yet you were ambushed by more than half of the boys already. deep in your thoughts, you jumped when you heard the chair next to you screech. minjae, you thought. you panicked because, well, he was going to be next to you this whole period. you pretended to snore so you wouldn’t have to talk to him until the teacher came. a few moments later you felt a jacket drape over you. the warmth it had was too inviting and then you actually fell asleep. 

the bell had rung, signaling for fourth period. “(y/n), wake up, you’ll be late for your next period,” minjae gently shook you. you lifted your head up drowsily and saw a few books standing up to prevent you from being seen by the teacher. oh, he took cover for you so that you could survive the whole period napping.

“hmmm...?” you rubbed your eyes to get a better look at minjae smiling softly at you.

“hurry up, (y/n), you slept through the entire third period. i covered for you because you seemed really tired. i’ll walk you to fourth period.” without thinking much, you grabbed your backpack and nodded.

“thanks for covering me, minjae,” you yawned as you guys walked to your next class. 

“yeah, no problem. i wanted to ask you about something though,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “so i got a letter earlier? did my smile actually brighten up your week?”

you inwardly cringed at the memory of writing such a sappy love letter to him, “haha, what letter?? it couldn’t possibly be the- oh” you stopped as minjae held up a pink envelope with a cherry pattern on it. you blinked a few times in disbelief as he carried it with him this entire time.

“this letter. i can’t believe that you’d write something like this, it’s kinda cute. i always knew you were a good writer,” he grinned as he waved the letter around.

“don’t just wave it around like that, give me it!” you said as you tried taking it away. it was unsuccessful as he lifted the letter up and away from you. he put it in his pocket.

“you’re not even gonna let me finish what i was saying?” he smirked. you guys reached your classroom and as you were about to walk in, minjae hugged you from the back and whispered in your ear, “come to the football game tonight, i’ll save you a front row seat,” before letting you go. your eyes widened at the sudden affection before looking around. great, now you see the minjae fangirls glaring at you. you shuddered at the ice cold tension that was in the classroom before making your way to your seat. 

it was only until the bell had rung when sungmin had ran into class. “safe!” he yelled out with a salute as you heard a teacher yell “detention!”. the classroom was filled with light giggles at his energy. you made eye contact with him and his smile slightly faltered before smiling again at his friends. ouch, you thought. you rolled your eyes before pulling out the materials for this class.

once fourth period was over, it was lunch. you sighed in relief to finally be able to eat your problems away. as you exited out of the classroom, a hand grabbed your shoulder. you let out a small shriek before whipping your head to see sungmin, with a small grin on his face.

“can we talk?”

you nervously laughed, “look, if this is about the letter, you can just forget about it.”

“well.. what if i don’t want to forget about it? (y/n), these are your feelings. you can’t just hide them forever or throw them away like it’s nothing,” he said, his grin never faltering. wow, where did the happy jokester go? you rarely ever see him being so serious, so this was probably really important to him. 

you cracked a small smile, “listen, sungmin. those feelings were hidden for a long time, it could’ve been forever if you never had been given the letter. i appreciate the words but i... really need to go now, i’ll see you,” you said as you walked away. 

“check your blazer’s pocket!” he yelled from across the hallway. you stopped and looked back, but sungmin was already gone from your sight. you found a paper sticking out of your pocket. that silly boy, he probably put it in when you weren’t looking. when you took it out, you saw a ticket to the school’s dance showcase after school at 5 pm with a post-it note saying “i hope to see you there <3 i’ll perform a song just for you”. you shook your head before putting it in your binder. 

once you entered the cafeteria, you got your lunch tray and walked outside to sit under one of the school’s trees. once you plopped down onto the cool grass, you sighed and leaned against the tree’s bark. you cursed wooseok for sending the letters and cursed at your horrible luck when you saw seongjun walking towards you. 

you were too tired to leave the relaxing shade so you just sighed as he stood in front of you. 

“(y/n)...” he started.

“before you say anything, that letter was a mistake. i know it was wrong to write a letter to my sister’s boyfriend. i don’t like you anymore,” you said a bit too quickly.

he crouched down to your level before letting out a smile small, “i broke up with your sister after i read your letter.” 

your eyes widened and you sat straight up, “you did WHAT?!” you shrieked, “h-how could you?! my sister really loved you! oh my god, seongjun! what the hell..?”

he ruffled your hair like he would always do when he visited you, “i know you wrote more letters. your older brother told me.” oh my god, you felt like such a horrible person. the guilt you had for liking him, the fact that you had probably ruined all these friendships you had, it all weighed down on you and you found yourself crying.

“i’m sorry.. i never meant for any of this to happen.. if only i didn’t write those letters..” you choked out.

he shook his head before gently pulling you towards him so that you could cry in his chest, “it’s okay, (nickname), you can’t control who you like. it’s none of your fault for liking someone, or should i say some people?” he joked. you punched his stomach lightly as he laughed out loud.

“not funny, seongjun,” you mumbled, “you know, i don’t know why i had liked you in the beginning.”

“well, for starters,” he said as he pulled out the letter from his pocket, “you said that i had a personality that was just so warm and inviting and-” you punched him one more time, a bit harder, as you sniffled, “okay, okay, i get it. who were the other people you wrote to? i think i’m the only one who knew of multiple being sent out, so you’re good.”

“.... minjaesungminhuijunandjunhyuk,” you mumbled.

for some reason, seongjun caught all of that and widened his eyes, “really?”

you sniffed and nodded, “yeah but can we go back to why you broke up with my sister so suddenly...”

he sighed, “man, you’ve always been really persistent, haven’t you?” he thinks for a bit but the lunch bell rings and cuts him off once he opened his mouth to speak.

“you’re kidding me!” you cried.

he stands up and gives you a hand to take. once you take it and grab your backpack, he ruffles your hair one last time, “if you want to hear the rest, then wait for me after school. i’ll walk you home and explain all of it, okay? see you (y/n).” the next actions shocks you as he mumbles “don’t hate me for this” and he kisses the top of your forehead before walking off. you blushed at the sudden contact before shaking your head and walking back into the school building.

fifth period had gone by quickly, and the last period was a self study period. you doodled on your notebook as you pondered over your choices. huijun had always helped you out whenever you needed help or was called out by the evil teacher. junhyuk was the shy boy who asked you to model for him because he found you pretty, and had gotten closer to you during the process. minjae was like a childhood friend you’ve known forever because you guys had always gotten along and always had each others backs. bic was like a breath of fresh air; he’d always cheer you up whenever you had a bad test score, there was never dull moments with him. lastly, there was seongjun, your older sister’s boyfriend, who had always treated you so well and listened to your problems while never criticizing you for your mistakes. 

you never imagined this happening to you, let alone, even have your feelings being reciprocated. you giggled a bit, you sounded like some main character in a wattpad fanfiction. you tapped back into reality as you thought about it. if you choose one, you would ditch the four others who would be patiently waiting for your answers. actions really do have consequences, you thought bitterly. your stomach dropped as you heard the last bell ring.

who do you choose to go to?

song minjae

bang junhyuk

[captain-jinguji]

NSFW alphabet for Tokiya?? ;333

Boy my fantasies went wild with this one.

TOKIYA ICHINOSE NSFW ALPHABET

Aftercare: how do they take care of their s/o after the act? Are they really into it?

Takes care of you and himself by cleaning up, getting new sheets, and making sure you guys stay hydrated. Even when it's about pleasure, Tokiya likes to keep things healthy and clean. 

Bondage: what's the furthest they would go in bed? 

Definitely a bondage man. Will tease his partner and edge them while they're tied up and blindfolded. 

Cum: where is their favorite place to cum? Are they messy? 

Inside but hates to admit that he actually loves the messiness of cumming on their face. It's just such a mess to get clean. 

Dirty secret: what's something they'd never admit to their s/o? 

He kind of wants a fifty shades of grey red room of pain but that's a lot of money and he has no idea how he'd hide the room from his bandmates.

Experience: have they done this before? Are they a virgin? 

Definitely done this before and is not a virgin. Knows what hes doing and definitely knows how to pleasure his partner good. 

Fantasy: what's their ultimate fantasy? 

To break you. Like seriously break you and almost make you dependent on him. It's kind of a chilling thought but he cant deny it excites him. 

Good girl: are they into the reward and punishment system? If so, more on his s/o or him? 

Oh yes he definitely is and always on you. Has different types of whips he likes to use and almost all of them are sure to leave you marked up. 

Hair: what's it like down there? 

Nearly trimmed. He doesnt like a lot if hair but clean shaving is too bothersome for him.

Intimacy: how are they? Is it sensual? Rough?

Teasingly rough. He will make sure you get what you deserve depending on if you were good or bad. He is a perfectionist though so good luck being good.  

Jackoff: Do they do it? How often? 

Doesnt do it a lot. Before his relationship it was more to get out the tension and so it wouldn't cause health problems.

Kink: what's their biggest turn on? 

Having an obedient partner. Hes very much a Dom and much like Camus, wouldn't mind the whole slave/master game.

Location: where's their favorite place to do it? Where's a no? 

The bed mainly because all the things he may or may not need are in the room and easily accessible. He wouldnt have sex on the beach or anywhere thats like, mostly nature, because sand or dirt on your skin is just not cool or attractive and a pain to get off.

Motivation: what gets them going? 

Obedience and soft little affections from his s/o. Caress his arm or leg softly and see him turn the game around.

No: anything they wont do? 

Share. Hes very much a one-on-one person and he isn't really comfortable with the thought of someone else having your attention.

Oral: receiver or giver? 

Receiver. He loves to see you below him as he guides your head up and down your shaft. However, he does reward good behavior and his mouth can definitely get your legs shaking and begging for more.

Pace: fast or slow? 

Agonizingly slow at first because hes such a damn tease. Will speed it up though because he prefers it that way, too.

Quickie: would they do it ? 

Contrary to popular belief, i can actually see him doing it. Not all the time and it's mostly when hes on tour and his s/o just happens to be there. 

Risk: are they into getting (potentially) caught? 

Kind of excites him but he wouldn't do it because he has a reputation to keep. 

Stamina: how long can they last? How many rounds? 

Oh he can last for what feels like forever. Edging and teasing is his game and he will drag it out as long as possible. Usually no more than one round because he fears your body won't handle it lol.

Toys: are they into toys? 

More into outfits than toys and your usual ropes and blindfolds.

Underlying motive: Do they have one? 

To break you. To make you sexually dependent on him. Still loves you though and will never take it past what youre comfortable with. 

Volume: how loud are they? 

Heavy breathing and low grunts. He isn't very vocal but he does feel the pleasure as much as you do.

Wish: what do they want you to do to them? 

Try to dominate him. He cant promise it will go far because he likes control but itd be nice if you tried.

X-ray: how big are they? 

A little above average. Hes more long than thick but still fills you up.

Yearning: how badly do they need it?

Embarrassed to admit it but actually has a higher sex drive once hes comfortable with his partner. 

Z-ZZZ: how fast do they fall asleep after?

Not very fast. He likes to clean up and make sure both of you are good and afterwards he wants to reflect on what happened. Pillow talk is a must.  

[moonb-eam]

25 for the shippy starters !!

thank you em!! ✨✨✨

(somehow SOMEHOW this turned into a 2.5k extravaganza of OVER-EMOTIONAL SAP? wow hOW ON-BRAND)

(i.....just leave me here on the ground, i don’t even know)

(oh man i hope you enjoy it)

no. 25 “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Lucas adjusts his grip on the plastic container he’s holding. “For the last time, it’ll be fine. We only need to stay for like, an hour, tops, and then you never have to pretend to be my boyfriend again.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” Eliott argues, shifting the bottle of wine he’s holding into the crook of his elbow. “It’s the fact that I’m going to have to face your dad’s entire family.” His eyes are wide. “Your cousin, the one with the hair, she terrifies me. She’s always giving me weird looks.”

The one with the hair. Lucas hates that he knows exactly who Eliott means.

Lucas’s cousin Sandra is the same age as Lucas, and takes it upon herself to drop by Lucas’s apartment, unannounced. Usually she only did it during holidays, but ever since she ran into Eliott once, when he was on his way out, her visits have doubled in frequency.

“Yeah, well, imagine a lifetime of having to deal with that,” Lucas grumbles under his breath. He’s looking forward to spending time with his dad, and his dad’s extended family, as much as he looks forward to the flu.

Only, his dad had told him, in no uncertain terms, that if Lucas didn’t come to his grand-mère’s birthday party, then Lucas would also have to stop asking his dad for money.

You never act like you’re a part of this family, his dad had said to him on the phone.

You’re right, I don’t, Lucas had thought. Because I’m not, am I? I don’t even think you want me to be.

Lucas’s family was his mother, Yann, Imane, Manon, and Eliott. It wasn’t his dad, his dad’s new wife, or any of his dad’s family.

But Lucas’s grand-mère has always been kind to him. And as much as he hates it, he does need help from his dad to pay rent.

So he’s going, but he’s not going alone.

“Here,” Eliott says, reaching a hand out to Lucas when they turn a corner, coming up on Lucas’s aunt’s house, with it’s tall windows and gated driveway and spacious yard. Eliott wiggles his fingers at him. “You ready?”

Lucas stares down at his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to hold your hand,” Eliott says, like it’s obvious, as though that’s something they do all the time. “We’re a couple now, right?”

Lucas hesitates. He hesitates because he only asked Eliott to pretend to be his boyfriend as a way to get his Aunt Edith and all of his cousins off of his back. He hesitates because he only asked Eliott to be his boyfriend because he needed someone there for him, someone to support him, and the party was supposed to be close family and partners only. He hesitates because he didn’t fully consider how painful it would be to hold Eliott’s hand and pretend, when all he wants is to hold his hand for real.

But Lucas craves the comfort more than air.

So he reaches out and takes Eliott’s hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing once. Eliott squeezes back.

“If it gets to be too much,” Eliott says quietly as they start up the driveway, gravel crunching under their feet, “just tell me, and I can get us out of there. I can fake a sickness or something.”

Lucas lets out a breath. “Thank you.” He turns to look up at Eliott, watches the way the sunlight turns his hair bright gold, his eyes ice-grey. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“Lucas, come on,” Eliott laughs. “We’ve been friends for years. I’d do anything for you. This is nothing.”

“Right,” Lucas murmurs, stopping them on the front porch, “nothing.” He presses down on the doorbell.

“It’s so weird places like this exist in Paris, isn’t it?” Eliott asks, his gaze surveying the elaborate garden and lush green grass of the front yard. “I always forget there are parts of the city that aren’t metal and stone and shitty apartments.”

“This isn’t Paris,” Lucas says, right before the door opens, “this is another planet.”

Aunt Edith greets them like Lucas is her long-lost son, pulling him into a hug and cooing when Lucas shows her the cookies he made. When she turns her gaze onto Eliott, it’s appraising, obviously curious.

“Lucas,” she says, a hand resting over her chest daintily. “Who is this gorgeous young man you’ve brought with you?”

“Aunt Edith,” Lucas says with a strained smile, “I told you I was going to bring my—”

“I’m Eliott.” He drops Lucas’s hand so he can lean forward and kiss Edith on both of her cheeks. “Lucas’s boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Edith says, eyes drifting from Eliott to Lucas and back again. She gives a light laugh. “How silly of me, Lucas, you did say you were bringing someone. I forgot.”

Lucas can hear what she’s not saying. I thought you were making it up.

He can feel his cheeks flushing because he did have to make it up. He had to convince one of his best friends to pretend to be his boyfriend.

“I brought wine,” Eliott says pleasantly, offering the bottle up. “For you, to say thank you for allowing me to come.”

“You are so darling. Come with me to the kitchen, I’ll get you both a drink.”

It goes the same way whenever Eliott meets any member of the family, the same wide eyes and disbelieving expression, the same, oh yes Lucas, I heard you were bringing someone but I didn’t think…

It’s a lot for Lucas, the judgement and embarrassment being thrown at him in every interaction. A particular comment from an uncle about queers makes Lucas want to throw his wine glass into the wall.

It’s especially hard because Eliott plays his part perfectly. Almost too perfectly. He’s attentive to Lucas, filling up his wine glass when it’s empty, getting him water when he’s thirsty, occasionally resting his hand on Lucas’s lower back, resting his arm over the back of Lucas’s chair when they sit down.

He’s acting the way Lucas always imagines he would act as someone’s boyfriend: sweet and charming and loving. (Acting the way that Lucas always imagines he would act as Lucas’s boyfriend, during those endless nights when Lucas is feeling particular lonely and lovestruck.) It’s a lot, to get a glimpse of that, and to know it will never be his. Not really.

They’ve only been there for half an hour, and Lucas is ready to leave.

He’s considering asking Eliott to fake an illness when Sandra comes tottering over to them on a pair of dangerously high heels.

“Lucas,” she says, but she’s staring at Eliott, biting down on her bottom lip. Eliott shifts on the spot, clearing his throat and looking away.

“How are you, Sandra?”

Her eyes snap over to Lucas. “I heard that you brought your boyfriend. Where is he?”

Fucking hell.

“That’s me,” Eliott says, flatly, and he’s staring back at Sandra now, eyes hard. “I’m Lucas’s boyfriend.”

“Really,” Sandra says. “Now that’s interesting because I’ve only seen you over at Lucas’s once.”

Eliott shrugs. “We’re both pretty busy with school and work.” He slides an arm around Lucas’s waist, tugging Lucas gently to his side. “I don’t see him nearly as much as I’d like to.”

Sandra still doesn’t look convinced. Lucas tries to project his silent mantra of stop asking questions, stop asking questions, out to her, as though she can read his mind.

“It’s just funny,” Sandra says eventually, taking a sip of her drink. “I wouldn’t picture Lucas with someone like you.”

Now, Eliott smiles. “I know,” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of Lucas’s head. “I’m so lucky. I don’t know what he sees in me.” He pauses, tilts his head down to meet Lucas’s eyes. “You really are the most amazing person,” Eliott says quietly. “I can’t imagine not being in love with you.”

Sandra’s face is beautiful a mix of shock and distaste, but Lucas can’t appreciate it because he might be on the edge of a breakdown.

He bites down on his tongue. I can’t do this.

“I have to—bathroom,” Lucas manages to squeak out, slipping out from under Eliott’s arm and fleeing out of the living room. He’s making a beeline towards the stairs up to the second floor, breathing hard, head swimming, when he’s stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Lucas.” And of fucking course it’s his dad.

“I can’t…” Lucas swallows down a shuddering breath. “I can’t talk right now, I need to—”

“You think you can show up here with him?” Eric Lallemant’s tone is biting, the inflection on him leaving no room for who he’s talking about. “You think it’s right to parade that in front of my family?”

My family.

“Dad,” Lucas’s voice is cracking at the edges. “You know I’m gay. You’ve known for years.”

“It’s one thing to know it, and another to see it,” Eric snaps and god, can Lucas get a fucking break?

“Excuse me.” There’s someone shouldering between the two of them, someone who is tall and warm and smells a bit like smoke. “I think that’s enough.”

Eric sputters. “You dare to—”

“You dare to speak to your child that way? What kind of person are you?”

Silence. Eric looks furious.

Lucas has to swallow three times before he can speak. “I’ve never been a part of this family, and I don’t want to be a part of it. We don’t have to do this.” His voice is small, but just being able to get the words out makes him stand a little straighter, makes him stop shaking. “We don’t have to pretend.”

Eric’s gaze shifts between Lucas and Eliott, his face a bright shade of red. Lucas is expecting him to start yelling, but all he says is, “I think you both should leave,” before he turns on his heel and strides out of the hallway.

“Fuck,” Lucas can feel tears building in his eyes, tries to blink them away. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. God, fuck him.”

“Baby.” Eliott is turning around reaching his hands up to cup Lucas’s face. “Baby, I’m so sorry. What can I do? Do you want to go home?”

Lucas hiccups once. He wants to leave, yeah, in fact he should have left as soon as he arrived, but. Baby. 

“Don’t,” he whispers. He doesn’t want to say it, but he suddenly needs to. Eliott needs to know. “Don’t say those things to me, I can’t…”

Eliott’s voice is quiet. “What?”

“I can’t hear it, Eliott. You can’t call me baby, you can’t tell me you love me if you don’t mean it.”

Eliott gently wipes away a tear on Lucas’s cheek with his thumb. “But I do mean it.”

“Not like that.”

There’s a brief pause, then, “Yeah, like that.”

Lucas pulls back, but Eliott is still there, holding his face so gently, eyes so serious. “Eliott, you can’t joke about this, I don’t think I can—”

“I’m in love with you.” Everything stops. Lucas doesn’t even think he’s breathing. “I’m sorry this is such shit timing. I was going to tell you after but, I just…” Eliott leans forward until their foreheads touch. “I’m so in love with you, okay? I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend because I had to know what it was like. I just had to know. Even though I wanted it for real.”

“Eliott.” Lucas grips onto his forearms, desperately holds on. Eliott.

“Your dad is such a dick. I’m sorry, but I can’t believe he talked to you like that. You’re so special Lucas, okay? You’re so easy to love. I meant what I said in the living room, and I hate hearing people say things to you that—”

“I love you too,” Lucas blurts out, rendered almost useless by the smile Eliott gives him, wide and generous and unabashed. He sighs. “And you’re right, my dad is a dick. I don’t know why I thought it would be okay to come.”

Eliott folds Lucas into his arms, one hand on the back of his head, the other across his shoulders, and Lucas buries his face in Eliott’s neck.

“No pretending, okay? Not anymore.”

Lucas nods against Eliott’s neck. Eliott kisses the top of his head.

“Can I take you home?”

Lucas nods again. “Please.”

Eliott gathers their jackets, and Lucas ventures into the living room to steal a bottle of Edith’s expensive rosé and to flip Sandra off when he leaves.

He turns towards the front door, and there’s his grand-mère, leaning on her cane and speaking softly with Eliott. She smiles when she sees Lucas.

“Chérie,” Her voice is warm. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Lucas’s throat is tight when he leans in for a hug. “Salut. Joyeux anniversaire.”

She scoffs. “When you’ve had as many birthdays as I’ve had, they become less of an occasion.” Her gaze slides back to Eliott. “I was just telling your young man here that he better take care of you.”

Eliott smiles, shyly, eyes cast down, but when Lucas says, “He does,” they to meet his, and Lucas’s breath catches, because Eliott is looking at Lucas like Lucas is a book, like Eliott can’t wait to open his pages and dive into his stories.

It’s consuming.

“Love is all there is, you know,” his grand-mère says sagely, squeezing Lucas’s shoulder with a gentle hand. Her smiles turns somber. “I’ll speak with Eric. He should know better.”

“No, that’s not—”

“I will speak with him.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, so Lucas nods, whispers a quiet merci into her ear when he hugs her goodbye.

“Enjoy that wine,” she tells him and Eliott with a wink before the door shuts behind them.

Both of them let out a breath when it closes; both of them wander down to the end of the driveway, the sounds and smells of Paris rushing back to their senses as though they’ve both just emerged from a deep-sea dive.

“So,” Eliott says, “what now?”

Lucas smiles to himself, bites down on his lower lip, while he thinks. “Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I know I said I wanted to go home, but I feel…I feel a bit restless.”

“Okay,” Eliott says easily. “So what do you want to do?”

“I want,” Lucas says at length, stretching his hand out between them, “to call my maman. I also want to walk down to the Seine, open this bottle, and I want to kiss you. Is that chill?”

Eliott laughs. “That’s chill.”

His fingers slide between Lucas’s, and Lucas is reminded again why he doesn’t need to come to these events, why he doesn’t need these people.

He already has a family.

Eliott squeezes his fingers once. “You ready?”

Lucas squeezes back. “Let’s go.” 

[firestcrm]

01 / ( alias / name ):  jana 02 / ( date of birth ):  january14th 03 / ( zodiac sign ):  capricorn  04 / ( height ):  5 ‘ 6 05 / ( hobbies ):  reading, writing, video games, RP,  06 / ( favorite color ):  i always say green, blue-green. =) 07 / ( favorite books ):  i work in a library this question is not fair. =P the truth about forever by sarah dessen (YA), The Prince & the Dressmaker by Jen Wang (YA), Between Shades of Gray by Ruta Septys, Get A Life, Chole Brown by  Talia Hibbert (AF), Tokyo Ghoul by Sui Ishida 08 / ( last song listened to ):  The Best You Had by Nina Nesbitt  09 / ( last film or show watched ): howl’s moving castle  10 / ( story behind url ): my old url was taken after I had a bad moment and deleted my blog. i had it saved, but something happened and i couldn’t get it back once i tried to use it again. so i had to come up with a new one. so i made a list and liked this one. one of sasuke’s elements is fire and he is like is a storm so WHAM smushed them together. :)  11 / ( inspiration for muse ):  hmmm exploring him more than what was given in the manga. there are aspects about him untouched, and plus i just like picturing him in different scenarios. I can bounce from AU to AU like no tomorrow. >.> 

tagged by: @heavensfyre​

tagging: you! please do this! let us know all your likes. i wanna know what you read bc books are <333

[viperbranium]

a shrunkyclunks meet-cute

Now that the patreon thing is over, I can finally share the reward fics with the rest of you guys. Have the first one, and thanks again to everyone who supported relena and I <333

As Bucky steps into his favorite coffee shop, Becca walking in right after him, he can’t help but let out a miserable whine.

The place is uncharacteristically busy for a Thursday morning, and the line of people standing between him and his very much needed shot of caffeine seems to be at least twice as long as usual.

He usually doesn’t mind waiting, really. The coffee shop is warm and nice, and the wonderful scent of coffee that fills the air is already enough to get his brain synapses going. Normally he wouldn’t be too bothered by having to spend an extra 15 minutes standing there, just relaxing and enjoying the smell and the sounds of the espresso machines as he watches people come and go.

There’s no relaxing around Becca, though. She’s already been rambling nonstop about who-knows-what all the way from Bucky’s apartment, and really, Bucky loves her, okay? It’s not that he doesn’t care about what Becca has to say. But god, he’s NOT a morning person. He needs coffee before he can do the words-putting-into-sentence-doing, and without it to reboot his brain, all the words coming out of Becca’s mouth just sound like gibberish.

So instead of being able to stand there in a half-comatose state until some wonderful barista places a cup of magical liquid productivity in his hands, he’s being forced to try to make sense of actual words like a full-grown, functional adult.

He’s also failing spectacularly.

He swears to god they’ve been here for 10 minutes already and the goddamn line hasn’t gotten any shorter, when he hears Becca say, “There’s a new Captain America ride in Coney Island.”

“Great,” Bucky deadpans. “I’ve wanted to ride him for a while, now.”

At that, the wall of muscle standing in front of them lets out a choked-out noise and shuffles a bit awkwardly on his feet, like he was about to turn around but managed to stop himself at the last moment. Bucky’s definitely not awake enough to ask the dude if he’s got a problem with his sexuality, though, so he just ignores him.

“Gross,” Becca says, scrunching her nose. “If I end up with trauma cause of the mental image, you’re paying for my therapy.”

“It’s a great mental image.” Bucky shrugs.

“It’s Stark’s doing…” Becca informs him, ignoring Bucky’s comment as she continues to scroll through the article. “He must’ve thought building just an Iron Man ride was too narcissistic even for him, so he’s giving every Avenger one. Oh, man, he’s gonna take your place as Cap’s #1 fan, there’s no way you can top this.”

“Not that I wouldn’t if he was down for it, but hey, as long as he can top me, we’re all good.”

The man in front of them discreetly clears his throat at Bucky’s comment, and Bucky’s brow furrows and he has to purse his lips to stop himself from saying something this time.

“Bucky, ew,” Becca scolds him as someone else leaves with their coffee and they all take another step towards the counter. “You’re my brother. I do not want to think about you two having sex every time Captain America’s on the news, thank you very much.”

It takes everything Bucky is not to comment on how he always wants to think about them having sex whenever Captain America is on the news. Instead, he just says, “Hey, you brought him up.”

“Cause you wouldn’t listen to me unless we talked about your crush!”

The sound, somewhere between outraged and embarrassed, escapes Bucky’s lips before he can stop it.

“I don’t have a crush!”

Becca smiled impishly. “Bucky, you have a crush so massive it can probably be seen from the ISS.”

“I’m a grown man,” Bucky grumbles. “I don’t have crushes.” Becca quirks an eyebrow at him like she’s not convinced, so he goes on. “I want him to nail me into the mattress, which is entirely different.”

“Oh, please,” Becca says. “You call him Steve like a nerd.”

God, Bucky’s really starting to regret this conversation.

“It’s his name,” he argues still. He knows Becca’s thoroughly enjoying poking fun at him and that he’s only spurring her on at this point, but dammit, she always seems to know how to get under his skin. The man in front of them seems to be really engrossed in their conversation too, probably taking lots of issues with everything Bucky’s gay ass is saying, and that’s also getting on Bucky’s nerves.

“You do know most people call him Cap, right?” Becca tells him, crossing her arms and smirking like she just won something.

Bucky lets out a groan and pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s not even sure how the conversation got to this point anymore, but this has got to be the dumbest argument he’s ever had the misfortune to find himself involved in.

“Look, he’s a person, not a military rank. And can we please just drop this?” He tells her.

“Wait!” Becca says excitedly as she grabs Bucky’s arm. Whatever she just thought of, Bucky knows it can’t be good. “Didn’t you write a paper about him in college?”

“Oh god,” Bucky practically whines. He’s more than ready to forgo coffee at this point and just bolt. To turn around and leave before someone recognizes him. But it’s already the turn of the man in front of them, so instead he just turns to face Becca and shoots her his best pleading expression. “Please, shut up,” he begs.

Becca is merciless, though.

““The Phenomenon of Captain America as a queer icon and the widespread reluctance to recognize him as such: How Captain America shaped the modern image of masculinity, and his impact on the generations growing up during the post-war era in the US”,” She recites. Bucky can’t even believe she remembers, the asshole.

“Becca, please! I come here every morning!” And it’s already hard enough to try to pretend his interest is only casual and not borderline obsessive as it is, god fucking dammit.  

Rebecca’s laughing in earnest now. Tears-in-her-eyes, hands-around-her-belly laughing. If Bucky didn’t love her so fucking much, god only knows why, he’d probably strangle her or something.

He’s about to say as much when, all of a sudden, Becca stops.

She’s staring right past Bucky at the now one-man line in front of them, a bit wide-eyed and with a hint of red coloring her cheeks. Bucky follows her gaze, and before he can even ask what’s wrong, he damn near chokes.

Because it turns out the guy Bucky totally assumed was some old dude, based mostly on the khakis and the old-fashioned hairstyle, is actually Steve fucking Rogers himself.

Yep. Bucky just spent the past 20 minutes standing right behind Captain America and repeatedly stating how damn much he wants the guy to fuck him til he can’t walk. Why can’t the ground just open up and swallow him whole when he needs it?

For a few moments, Steve Rogers just stares at him, standing there in all his 6’2” and 240 lbs of 100% American beefcake glory, freshly made cup of coffee forgotten in his hand and the deepest blush Bucky’s ever seen creeping up his neck. It contrasts nicely with Bucky’s own skin, which has completely drained of all color.

Since he’s apparently managed to shock Captain America so much with his raunchy comments that he’s frozen in place, Bucky should probably use this chance to either apologize or bolt, but his own brain keeps refusing to reboot. Then Steve Rogers is clearing his throat and taking a small step forward, and fuck, Bucky’s so, so, soooo dead.

Except Steve Rogers doesn’t look offended in the slightest.

Steve Rogers looks thoroughly embarrassed, yes –and in any other situation Bucky would definitely be focusing on how damn gorgeous he looks with his cheeks flushed that lovely shade of red—, but Bucky could swear it’s also amusement that he’s seeing in those piercing blue eyes.

Steve Rogers stops right in front of Bucky--the corner of his mouth turned slightly upwards and those eyelashes threatening to turn Bucky’s legs into jelly--, holds his hand right up to Bucky’s head, and says, “You must be this tall to ride.”

And then he just… leaves.

Bucky can hear Becca, standing half a step behind him, whispering, “What the fuck!?”, but it’s not until the barista’s trying to get his attention and asking him if he’s going to order, that he manages to kick his brain back into action.

Well. Holy fucking shit.

-

He almost doesn’t return to the coffee shop.

Not because he thinks anyone else besides Becca and STEVE ROGERS witnessed how he made a total fool of himself, or how Captain America, in an unprecedented act of diplomacy considering his history of telling men in charge to go fuck themselves, only teased him a bit for it instead of knocking him flat on his ass. No.

He almost doesn’t return because he’s too fucking ashamed of himself and of the whole thing, and being here where everything took place is only going to help his asshole brain provide him with a full HD rerun of the whole incident. Ugh.

In the end he figures not coming isn’t gonna make him any less mortified, though, and the place does make the best coffee in the area, by far.

Trying his damnedest not to blush and pointedly staring at nothing but his own feet --just in case he was wrong about the no other witnesses thing-- he walks into the coffee shop and heads straight for the counter… only to be stopped by a soft, “Hey!” and a gentle hand tapping on his shoulder.

When he turns, he finds himself once again standing face-to-face with Steven Grant Rogers.

Who’s not sporting quite the same shade of crimson he was yesterday, but still has a beautiful hint of a blush going on, and whose smile is so warm and inviting it makes Bucky’s skin tingle.

Or it would, if the urge to run in the opposite direction and go hide under a rock wasn’t so damn strong.

There’s an awkward moment of silence as Bucky just stands there shell-shocked, staring at him like he hadn’t already embarrassed himself enough, before Steve says, "So, I'm Steve, but I guess you know that already..."

“Yeah, I--” he tries, fumbling for words, but Bucky’s mouth still seems to be refusing to catch up with his brain.

Steve smiles a bit more, seemingly amused. “And you are?” he prompts.

That seems to do the trick. It takes a bit of stumbling over words, but Bucky at last manages to get the words flowing… and then they just won’t stop. “Ja-James. Bucky! I’m Bucky. I mean I’m James but everyone calls me-- oh god I’m so sorry about yesterday, I didn’t know you were-- And my sister wouldn’t shut up, and oh my god, you heard about the paper, that must’ve been so weird, I’m so fucki--ah. I’m so very sorry, I’m--”

“You can say “fucking”!” Steve cuts him off, not unkindly, and laughs “And you don’t have to apologize. Bucky, right?” he asks, holding his hand out for Bucky to shake. Bucky nods, and promptly does so. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

“I wrote that essay before you were thawed,” Bucky still feels the need to clarify. “I wouldn’t’ve… it must feel so weird to have historians everywhere speculating about your life, I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Steve reassures him, and then blushes a bit before adding, “I, um… I read it. Your paper, I read it last night.”

“You what!?”

Steve shrugs. “The title was intriguing, and... you were surprisingly accurate.”

And god, okay. Bucky really needs to sit down right the fuck now, because Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America, did NOT just say he had read Bucky’s stupid paper, a paper in which Bucky had talked at length about all the ways in which America’s Golden Boy was as rampantly queer as a sparkly unicorn, and said that it had been accurate.

“So, um…” Steve starts when Bucky does nothing but gape at him for 2 whole minutes. “You mentioned coming here every morning, so I thought…” He moves aside a bit and gestures to the table behind him, and to the two cups of coffee placed on it. “Have coffee with me?”

Bucky has to blink three times before he’s convinced this is really happening, and he still wouldn’t scratch the possibility of Steve having kicked his ass so badly the day before that he’s now hallucinating off the list. “You want to have coffee with me? After everything I said?”

Steve smiles again, and Bucky swears to god, every time he does it gets a bit warmer in here. “I want you have coffee with you,” he confirms. “Because of everything you said. I liked it. That thing about the rank in particular, but everything else too. So yeah, I’d like to have coffee with you, and discuss some of the things you mentioned in your paper a bit more, if you’re down for it? Then we can see about the riding thing, maybe,” he finished with a smirk, those gorgeous blue eyes of his crinkling playfully.

Well, hell yeah Bucky was down for it.