#which is an entirely other can of worms that I don’t have a clue on how to open | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fahrni · 11 months

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Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

I haven’t reported on Ms. Gracie’s sleep schedule for a while. She’s finally — FINALLY — letting me sleep longer. It seems I can get to bed around 11:30 and she doesn’t need to do her business until 5:30 or so so. Sometimes 6:30! It’s been wonderful. Puppies really are like human babies in a lot of ways.

On with the links!

Justine Tunney

It’s called apelink.c and it’s a fine piece of poetry that weaves together the Portable Executable, ELF, Mach-O, and PKZIP file formats into shell scripts that run on most PCs and servers without needing to be installed.

This is kind of cool and, again, I like having an open solution folks could evolve.

I can’t figure out how to put together a good search query to find an article on it but macOS does this today with its application bundles. I suppose it’s not exactly the same but the idea certainly is.

Tim Carmody • kottke.org

The ideas Dave is talking about in this podcast are serious (even if he is laughing a lot), and he spells them out in text at a site called Textcasting.org.

I think I get what Dave is saying but I’d need to spend more time thinking about it. To get buy in from all the big platforms would mean either compromise or extensions to the format that only certain platforms would use. In other words, it’s a can of worms.

That doesn’t mean it can’t be done and that it’s not worth doing. It just means it’ll be difficult.

We already have blogs, links, and RSS. I publish posts to my blog to other sources automagically. But, that means my platform has to know how the API to that platform works. If there were a standard format for uploading RSS or some other structured document format I could see that being appealing.

Would the publisher push the changes to various other platforms or would each platform pull the post, like RSS works today? 🤔

Ivan Mehta • TechCrunch

Instagram head Adam Mosseri said today that a Threads API is in the works. This will give developers a chance to create different apps and experiences around Threads.

I like it when API’s are created to open up platforms but I have a feeling this one will be extremely limited. And what happened to using ActivityPub and Fediverse support? Why not do that? Oh, right, it would mean completely opening Threads to developers. They don’t want that because they need those eyeballs clearly focused on Threads.

Hey, how about starting with RSS? Let me subscribe to a users RSS feed for their posts. That would be really nice and allow me to follow some brands without cluttering my Threads timeline.

Also, give us Mastodon integration. 😀

Jon Schwarz • The Intercept

Former president Jimmy Carter said Tuesday on the nationally syndicated radio show the Thom Hartmann Program that the United States is now an “oligarchy” in which “unlimited political bribery” has created “a complete subversion of our political system as a payoff to major contributors.” Both Democrats and Republicans, Carter said, “look upon this unlimited money as a great benefit to themselves.”

I know Jimmy Carter is seen as a Presidential failure by many, but there is no questioning his commitment to humanity and everything he’s given post Presidency. He’s a national treasure and someone we should listen to.

Of course nobody will. Nobody except we commoners not part of the political establishment.

I have no clue how to change this stuff but I’d like to see it happen. The unlimited money pouring into campaigns needs to be reined in.

Could a set of laws be created to give all campaigns an equal amount of money with equal amount of airtime and web presence to level the playing field?

Lucidity

I saved my company half a million dollars in about five minutes. This is more money than I’ve made for my employers over the course of my entire career because this industry is a sham. I clicked about five buttons.

This story made me chuckle a couple times. Corporations can get so bogged down in process and politics it’s amazing they can accomplish anything, much less a useful computing infrastructure.

David Corn • Mother Jones

Mike Johnson Hates America, But He Believes He Can Save It

It seems like Mr. Jones is quite the Christian Nationalist and hasn’t the slightest clue what our founding fathers intended for us.

Having a national religion is an abomination. The First Amendment to the Constitution is pretty clear on the matter.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

It’s right there in black and white. We have the freedom to choose a religion. That can include Satanism. You don’t have to like it, you just have to live with it.

v8.dev

A new way to bring garbage collected programming languages efficiently to WebAssembly

Here’s a bit of light technical reading for you! It’s incredible what hoops we jump through to achieve amazing things in computing.

I still believe the CLI standard should’ve been the runtime of choice for the browser.

Indivisible

We’re stepping back from the increasingly dangerous and dysfunctional ‘X’, and we’re sorry it’s taken this long

I suppose we’ll continue to see this. The big question is where do they land? They’ll probably have to have a presence on Mastodon, Blue Sky, and Threads.

Liberty Dunworth • NME

Record labels and recording companies have been working to prevent artists from re-recording their albums like Taylor Swift, according to reports.

Can you blame artists for wanting to own the rights to their work? I certainly can’t.

The record labels should be ashamed. It’s kind of a scammy business and it’s too bad musical acts haven’t figured out a why to band together and move record labels out of the picture altogether.

I say that and of course I can’t do anything about my reliance on Apple to get my app in front of millions of people.

Jacquelyn Melinek • TechCrunch

Sam Bankman-Fried, the co-founder and former CEO of crypto exchange FTX and trading firm Alameda Research, has been found guilty on all seven counts related to fraud and money laundering.

I guess he effed around and found out!

For me this brings up all the Orange Man trials. Why did this one happen so quickly and his are dragging out?

Anywho. I’m sure SBF will be taking these charges to the next higher court, then the next, and so on. The rich and famous have such an advantage in the legal system.

Elizabeth Blackstock • Jalopnik

It’s getting tough out there for the poor folks who have never faced systemic inequality but desperately want to feel oppressed. That’s why America First Legal — a conservative legal group led by Stephen Miller, a former adviser to former President Trump — is claiming that NASCAR is actually racist against white American men. That’s a first!

This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Have you ever watched a NASCAR race? It’s probably 99% white faces in the stands.

They’re just pissed NASCAR finally came into the 20th century and banned Confederate flags from NASCAR races.

Poor racists and their “But ma heritage!” Yeah, a heritage of hate and enslaving people. Great heritage. 🤬

Jay Barmann • sfist.com

Downtown Tech Office Shuts Down Its Free Cocktail Bar For Employees, CEO Says ‘The Office Is Dead’

Not even free booze could bring employees back to the office.

If you’re interested in socializing you should go to the office. It’s fine. I know a lot of people who prefer it to working from home.

I’ve seriously considered going into the office one day a week to change things up and hang out around other people. I’ve been to our office less than 20 times since folks started returning. I got COVID last summer during a group on-site and more recently had an on-site to nail down some API design and someone had COVID and didn’t know it until they returned home at the end of the week. Thankfully I dodged that bullet.

Maybe they should open a pub. Might as well do something useful with that liquor license, right? 🤔

Ryan Erik King • Jalopnik

Bubba Wallace’s No. 23 Toyota Camry will be doing a special Star Wars paint scheme for the NASCAR Cup Series season finale this weekend at Phoenix Raceway. The livery is intended to promote 23XI Racing sponsor Columbia Sportswear’s upcoming Star Wars collection, but the design is far more than just a couple of logos and movie characters slapped onto some bodywork.

If you’re a Star Wars fan or a NASCAR fan you owe it to yourself to go watch the video. Not only is Bubba Wallace’s car sporting a Star Wars theme so is Tyler Reddick’s.

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merakiui · 2 years

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We got Childe with actress darling, so how about Azul with idol darling?

Fanboy Azul who hide his fanboy life from everyone, who would spent money just to buy idol darling merch, who would stay up late at night just to wait for darling new MV to drop

Fanboy Azul who knew about idol darling from idia (ofc), scoffed about it at first but end up curious, watch one (1) MV and got hooked afterwards

Fanboy Azul who learn a Few dance here and there (it would be funny if idol darling concept is cute and soft)

Fanboy Azul who planned to kill one of his classmate after he hear one of them bad mouthed darling, by saying that they're only got pretty face

🐏 anon

Aaaaa thank you for putting this worm in my brain!! orz

(cw: yandere, obsession, azul is a hater, unhealthy behaviors)

Everyone around him seems to be talking about you. He can’t fathom what’s so special about a bipedal creature who puts on elaborate and expensive outfits and sings into a microphone while telling the audience how much they love and appreciate the support. He’s seen this plenty of times in business and, unsurprisingly, it always works. Something about singers and idols always garners lots of money, especially if they act like a loving friend or a personal cheerleader. He’d like to try his hand at building an idol from the ground up, but that takes time, experience, and money. And he’d rather make more money than waste it on meaningless endeavors with no certainty of success.

It feels like he can’t escape you or your influence. Wherever he turns, you’re there. The twins are constantly checking your socials and scrolling through old photos of you when they have time and Idia has been enthusiastically relaying your entire life’s story at the board game club. And Azul, not knowing a clue about idol culture or you, asks what the appeal is. A dumb question, considering he can recognize the monetary appeals right away. But a question nonetheless. Idia’s happy to answer and he becomes so animated when talking about you and how your journey and struggles have made you such a strong, independent idol.

That’s not fair. Azul’s struggled, too. Why isn’t he famous? Why isn’t he raking in lots of money for simple things like dancing and singing? He realizes there’s more to it than that, but even so… How can your success feel so genuine and easy when his was mired in darkness? Always cutting back on meals to slim down. Turning away from mirrors to avoid looking at his face. Dirty deals on land and in the sea in order to get the things he couldn’t ever hope to possess. Lacking friends and a social circle because that same circle turned their backs on him and called him stupid, clumsy, weak, a crybaby.

Your motto is ‘work hard to achieve your starry dreams.’ His motto is ‘if you can’t have it, take it.’ And, frankly, your motto is a falsehood that you peddle to the masses like a cult leader selling the idea of self-destruction to brainwashed fools in need of so-called salvation.

One evening, after the Mostro Lounge has closed, he finds himself cooped up in his VIP room, phone in his hands as he analyzes one of your music videos. The production quality is amazing. The outfit and the scenery and the overall feeling have been perfectly tailored to fit the song and its themes. He hates to admit it, but you’re good at what you do. Perhaps even better than him. Maybe you’re up there with Vil. Who is he kidding? You’re probably acquainted with Vil, which isn’t too surprising to consider. Celebrities flock to other celebrities for exposure, to feed the tabloids and media new gossip, to stay connected and network through the rich and famous.

“Azul’s really staring, huh.”

“Indeed. I don’t think he suspects we’re here,” Jade adds with a chuckle. “It seems someone has charmed him.”

Azul’s head snaps up to view the twins as they lean over the desk, gazing at the visual on his screen with glee-filled eyes. He swats at them with a grumble. “This is research. I am not charmed.”

“Oh! That’s our cute, sparkly shrimpy.” Floyd snatches Azul’s phone for a closer look at you as you execute complicated dance moves with flawless grace. He pouts. “You haven’t even liked the video after all of our shrimpy’s hard work?”

With a scowl he reaches for his mobile, but Floyd holds it up and out of his grasp. “Jade.” He glances at the more mature twin. “Tell me. What’s so special about this…idol thing? Be short about it and spare me the earful.”

Jade smiles, razored teeth glinting in the dimness. “Idols like (Name) are usually charismatic individuals who have amassed a loyal following through music, fan interactions, and engaging interviews and collaborations.”

“So why do you like them so much? They’re a money siren, if anything.”

“They’re cute and they wear cool shoes!” Floyd lifts his leg to give Azul a view of his leather uniform shoes. “These are boring and dull. The shoes (Name) wears are colorful and I’m going to own every pair!”

“You’re throwing your money away. And get your foot off my desk!”

“You’re being stingy with yours.” He sticks his tongue out at him, brows furrowed in annoyance.

“I enjoy their captivating performances,” Jade admits, a hand over his heart. “(Name) has an energy that is difficult to describe. It’s…invigorating. Perhaps you are correct when you say they are a siren. If that’s the case, Floyd and I have found ourselves thoroughly entranced.”

Azul steeples his hands as he ruminates. Eventually he hazards a glance at them and asks, “You saw one of their performances recently, did you not?”

“Ah! That’s right!” Floyd drops Azul’s phone, which Jade catches expertly before it can shatter on the ground. Floyd digs his mobile out of his pocket to showcase the pictures and videos he managed to take. “They made us put our phones in these gross covers, but it kept them safe while we watched. Look, look! Isn’t (Name) really adorable? I wonder how they’d look with a tail. Hey, Azul, turn them into a mer.”

Azul gazes at the photos as Floyd swipes through them, stopping at a group photo where the twins pose with you. “You certainly enjoyed yourselves,” he says with a scoff.

“In more ways than one.” Jade’s smile sharpens. “We did invite you, but you refused to join us.”

“I made the right choice.”

“Aha. That’s no fun. You really missed out. (Name)’s crying face is delicious.”

“No need to rub salt on a poor octopus, Floyd.”

“The both of you are fools,” he declares after a minute of trying and failing to form an eloquent comeback. “However, if (Name) were to perform at the Mostro Lounge… Or perhaps we could work alongside our friends at the Mystery Shop once again. An event jointly sponsored… Sales would certainly increase.”

“What’s this? Azul wants little shrimpy to dance for him?”

“Oh my. I wonder if Azul has changed his tune.”

“Perish such idiotic thoughts. This is simply business.”

Yet he can’t help but wonder who you truly are beneath that glimmering façade. Surely you’re not as sweet as your fans claim you are.

- - -

Azul is on his way to Pomefiore to deliver another moisturizer when disaster strikes. The minute he emerges from the mirror and is standing in front of the elegant dormitory someone crashes into him. The force sends both him and the stranger tumbling, the delicate bottle of moisturizer flying from his hands and shattering into shards on the cobblestones. Azul remains on the ground, ferociously stunned into silence as he eyes the damaged product.

He was working on a time constraint, as always.

He wrung Floyd of his moisture, despite his protests at drawing the shortest straw once more.

He had everything perfect, as always.

He was going to uphold his end of the deal, as always.

Along with the now broken vial, his hopes are perfectly, undeniably fractured.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“You fool!” He turns on the cause for this mishap with a nasty glower. “Do you have any idea how important that was?! Haven’t you land folk ever heard the saying ‘watch where you tread’? You’ve ruined everything now and I can’t possibly make—wait.” He stares at the person cowering before him, a look of genuine grief plastered to their face as they spy the damage. You’re wearing a disguise, but there’s no mistaking your familiar voice. He’d recognize it in a crowd of hundreds after spending many sleepless nights watching your music videos, interviews, and much more just to commit your stunning voice to memory. For research purposes, of course. “You’re (Name), aren’t you? That idol from the surface…”

“Shush!” Your hands are quick to cover his mouth. He blinks at you, his flustered face betraying his initial anger. “I… Look. I’m sorry. A few fans recognized me and they were chasing me down. I wasn’t looking where I was going… I’ll pay for the damages. Just please be quiet.”

Azul considers his options. On one hand, he can’t make another moisturizer unless he wrings Jade out and the eel won’t agree to something so painful without proper compensation. On the other, he could just use his own moisture, but that still takes time and effort and he doesn’t want to subject himself to that. You aren’t a mer, so he can’t wring you out. How is he going to make a new moisturizer by the end of today? If he can’t get Vil his moisturizer, he’ll have broke his own contract terms. He absolutely can’t have that.

But you’re you. Jade is fond of you. Maybe he’ll do it for your sake.

“Why are you here?” he asks instead.

“I’m here to see Vil Schoenheit. He invited me to test a few makeup products for a Magicam livestream, one of which is this moisturizer he swears by and…oh. That was the moisturizer, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” He rubs his temples, willing himself to remain as the composed, suave businessman he usually is. “Yes, it was.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“‘Sorry’ won’t reverse it.” He inhales a breath, holds it, and then exhales slowly. “Let’s be sensible. If you’re close with Vil, you can just explain what happened. It’s not ideal for me, but the fault still lies with you. Although it wouldn’t look very good if I broke my own contract…”

“I can explain it to him, but you’re right. I can’t exactly fix whatever contract you wrote up. Maybe I can help you make a new moisturizer instead.”

“Hm.”

Looking at you this closely, Azul realizes you really are attractive. Humans have always appealed to merfolk, but you’re in another league entirely. You aren’t wearing any makeup and instead rely on your natural beauty to charm those around you. No wonder why Vil associates himself with you. You’re so naturally you. No wonder why you have so many fans.

Perhaps through his weeks-long research Azul has allowed you to strike his heart like a cupid with terrible aim. And he can’t believe that, of all the humans to adore, he’s fallen for one that is a star—out of reach, destined to shine brighter than him.

But stars can be bottled and kept safe from implosion. This is a fact that he, as a dutiful collector, knows well.

“I’ve got it!” He rises to his feet, brushing himself free of dirt, and holds his hand out to you. “From today onwards, we are business partners. If you help me solve this little predicament, I’ll consider overlooking your clumsy error.”

“All right. As long as you keep my being here a secret.” Your hand fits into his and he tugs you up from the ground. “So how can I help?”

Azul flashes you a sly grin. “What are your thoughts on transformation potions?”

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst #🐏 anon #bitter and jealous azul is a delicious flavor of azul >:)#but so is obsessive fanboy azul who would do anything for you #even changing himself just to suit your tastes

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safertokiss · 4 years

Text

Lost in Translation

A/N: Heyyyyy guys...remember when I used to post like every two weeks? Yeesh that’s awkward...but I’m backkkkk woooooooo party time! I was so excited that my discord buddies organized another fic swap because it was so much fun the first time. This time around I was chosen to write a doozy for the wonderful @writing-in-april and I have decided to bless you all with a beautiful subby boy. Sub Spencer lives in my head rent free, no cap. So sit back, relax and pretend it's you getting fricken railed. Peace out girl scouts;)

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: SMUT hehe oh yeah and fluff

Word Count: 4.8k

ENJOY:)

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

For as long as she could remember, Y/n had always wanted to learn Russian.

So, naturally, when she found out that their newest case involved two lovers who also happened to be Russian criminals trying to escape the United States government, she simply couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity to become more involved in the investigation.

It’s not that she’d never been on a stakeout for the Bureau before, in fact she’d probably been on so many at this point that she’d lost count. The only difference that this specific stakeout brought to her life was the fact that it was her first one to have ever been shared with Spencer Reid.

Her and the young doctor had lived in the same apartment building since her first day at the BAU, but their relationship pretty much began and ended at that. Of course they greeted each other whenever they passed in the halls of their building and ricocheted off of each other’s theories whenever necessary during their meetings in the round table room, but it would be a lie to label their relationship as anything other than casual acquaintances as well as amicable coworkers.

She had never been able to fully get a grasp on the elusive Dr. Reid. The fact that he was already such an integral member of the F.B.I. at the ripe age of 25 astounded and, well to be honest, perplexed her. Not that she doubted his abilities or intelligence in any way, quite the opposite really. She admired how utterly brilliant he proved to be day in and day out, even with the shy exterior he presented himself with to the world. Well, shy was definitely more of an understatement.

She had never met someone more socially awkward in her entire life, but with that being said, she couldn’t help but find it endearing and pretty dang adorable. Y/n constantly found herself enjoying his pathetic attempts at human interaction on a daily basis. From the nervous stutters to the out of this world hand gestures, there was much for her to dissect about the young doctor. And while she could openly admit that he was quite easy on the eyes, in a boyish-innocent kind of way, she had never really been able to see him in that sort of light.

If she thought his normal social interaction skills were entertaining to witness, his reactions to any of the conversations that took a more raunchy turn were to die for. The speed at which his features would ripen red like a tomato whenever anything of a sexual nature was brought up during cases was truly amazing, impressive even. However, unlike the rest of their team, she knew he wasn’t completely innocent. The walls in their apartment were as good as paper when it came to thickness, so it wasn’t that big surprise that the sounds created within them carried fairly well.

Or at least that was what she had discovered after the first night she heard him touching himself just through her bedroom wall.

Yes, it was less than ideal that their bedroom walls just happened to be adjacent to each other, but what could she do about it? It wasn’t as though she never sought out her own pleasure while alone in her apartment...although she would bet money that she was much better at withholding her noises. Instead, she learned to adapt to the sounds from next door and continue on with her life, having accepted that guys will in fact be dudes, no matter how innocent and meek they may appear.

When her boss had explained the nature of the assignment to them, there wasn’t anything of significance that had jumped out at her. It was all pretty standard instruction. They would wait, parked, in a government issued SUV overnight at a location close to the whereabouts of the criminals and simply translate their conversations using the mics that were planted prior. While Hotch knew that Y/n herself couldn’t understand Russian, it was common knowledge that the resident genius easily could transcribe the language.

And that was how she found herself cramped next to Spencer Reid in the stagnant vehicle, pen and paper in hand, patiently waiting for the translations to begin.

It was almost completely silent inside the car, apart from the quiet whirring of the heat coming through the vents, and she could basically feel the nerves coming off of the man next to her in waves. That’s why she was completely thrown off her game when his timid voice was the first to break through the silence that had encompassed the space they inhabited together.

“So um Y/n..h-how have you been recently?”

She did her best to hide the small smirk that started to form on her face from the stuttering mess that spilled out of his mouth. She definitely didn’t want to make him feel even worse about himself so she decided to humour his adorable attempt at conversation with her...well...sort of.

“Oh ya know Reid, just counting the days until I get some action. How about you?” If she thought he was sputtering nervously before, that was nothing compared to this treasure.

“Oh um well uh I-I mean...I don-I don’t...uh...w-what was the question a-again?”

This time she couldn’t stop the airy chuckle that escaped her lips as she leaned over and patted him gently on his thigh.

“Relax Reid, I’m just fucking around with you. Well for the most part...I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to some action, but that’s a whole can of worms I am not about to open during a stakeout”, Y/n laughed, not at all missing the steadily spreading blush that coated his sharp features.

“Yeah...no..yeah right of course...I t-totally knew you were just um fu-messing with me! Uh we should probably um r-review our assignment...you know just so we’re all s-set before we start.” How adorable.

“Aye-aye captain Reid. Ok so..”, she muttered while fiddling with the listening device to secure the right frequency. “...we just have to wait until they get back so we’re in range of their conversations. That’s when you’ll have your time to shine and prove yourself as the resident genius once again. And I’m sure that you’re aware that I don’t know a lick of the Russian language so I will be the best damn transcriber for you that the world has ever seen”, she finished with a smirk.

Even Reid chuckled a bit at her words, the ever-present blush slowly creeping back upon his face and neck.

“I’ll uh-I’ll hold you to that then.” Y/n had to admit she particularly liked to see the boy smiling, especially when it was the result of her own words. His innocence seemed to call out to her like a siren and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Oh-oh there they are! Ok get the pen and paper ready because as soon as they’re in range I’ll start translating.”

Getting themselves situated, they waited the few seconds it took for the couple to get close enough to the vicinity of the SUV for their conversations to begin to be broadcasted through their system.

“Как вы думаете, они идут по нашему следу?”

“Do you think they’re on our trail?”, Spencer easily understands, leaning slightly closer to her so his words were clearly heard.

“Ни за что. У этих глупых американцев нет шансов поймать нас.”

“No way. Those stupid Americans don’t stand a chance at catching us.”

At this point, the couple had already disappeared behind the door at the entrance of their current base, leaving only their words to give the closely listening agents much needed context clues.

“Я когда-нибудь говорил тебе, как сильно мне нравится твоя уверенность?”

“Have I ever told you how much I love your confidence?”

Even Spencer let himself smile at the chuckle that left Y/n’s lips. “Awww how cute...they’re flirting with each other over mass murder. I strive for that kind of intimacy.”

“Да у тебя есть. Но почему бы тебе не показать мне, насколько тебе это нравится.”

“Yes, you have. But why don’t you show me just how much you love it.”

Uh oh, Y/n thought to herself. Not a second after the untimely thought permeated her brain, the sounds of wet lips sloppily colliding against each other filled the otherwise silent vehicle. After the few seconds of shock wore off, their heads whipped to face each other, eyes wide and mouths wide open. “Huh...well this was certainly an unexpected turn.”

“I uh um-uh well w-what do we do now?”, Tomato Boy nervously sputtered out over the chorus of moans and groans that were currently bouncing off the SUV’s walls. As unexpected as the present situation was, she was absolutely eating up his reaction to the crude sounds.

“Well, Hotch did say he wanted us to take down every single word that was shared between them so...I guess we’re just gonna have to keep moving forward with the translations. You can do that, can’t you Reid?”, she explained, not even attempting to hide the growing smirk on her face.

“Yeah! Yes! Mhmm I can do that, I c-can definitely do t-that.”, he gushed, trying to subtly clear his throat to clear the steadily growing tension in his body.

“Good to hear, Doc.”, she cheekily replied just as the raunchy sounds echoing through the system transitioned to different methods of communication, more legible ones.

“Ты была для меня такой хорошей девочкой. Я думаю, ты заслуживаешь награды.”

Quickly clearing his throat once more, he jumped back into action, with what Y/n noticed was considerably less confidence than before. “You’ve b-been such a good g-girl for me. I think you deserve a r-reward.” Spencer’s voice had noticeably dropped to a whisper by the end of the sentence, forcing Y/n to lean closer to be able to hear his translations, only magnifying the already present tension in the air.

“Пожалуйста, папа, я сделаю что угодно.”

“P-please daddy.” His voice broke at the end igniting something deep inside Y/n’s being. “I’ll do anything.” In that moment she truly believed he would do anything, his own words or not, based on the obvious strain in his pants that her eyes glanced over, and also by the way his skin completely succumbed to goosebumps as her warm breath caressed the shell of his ear. She didn’t really know what the hell was happening, why her body was absolutely loving the way he gradually leaned into her’s, submitting all of his vulnerabilities into her hands.

“Тебе это нравится, не так ли, маленькая шлюшка. Как член папы глубоко внутри тебя?”

She watched the way he inhaled a deep breath and released a high-pitched sigh before continuing on, subtly pressing her legs together to control the excitement thrumming through her body at his pathetic tone and mannerisms.

“You like t-that don’t you, you little-uh-you little s-slut?” From their close proximity, she could clearly make out the speedy heartbeat clambering against his chest as he spoke. And if that was the case, he must’ve been able to feel hers as well. “Like daddy’s c-cock deep inside of y-you?” She could’ve sworn she saw his dick twitch slightly in his pants.

“Маленькая шлюшка уже придет за мной? Тогда умоляйте об этом. Бля, умоляю позволить тебе кончить.”

Y/n certainly did not miss the airy sigh that escaped his lips, watching as a bead of sweat dripped down his temple, confidently guessing it was not from the heat that had been coming through the vents.

“Is the little-little s-slut gonna come for me already? B-beg for it then. Fucking beg f-for me to let you c-come.” Spencer was speedily falling apart at the seams and she was loving it. More than loving it. She was craving it. Craving the little noises that he was trying to stop from escaping his lips. Craving the way he slightly bounced his leg in an attempt to control his arousal, which was futile because it had obviously already reached its full potential in the confines of his khaki slacks.

“Пожалуйста, папа. Пожалуйста, позволь мне прийти. Мне это надо. Пожалуйста.”

Without even hearing the words translated back to her, she could hear the utter desperation in the girl’s voice. She no longer needed to understand the Russian language to be able to finish the translation, and as she sat there with her thighs tightly pressed together, she knew exactly what it meant.

“Please!” The utter need that was present in the original audio was somehow mirrored perfectly by the young doctor’s breathy voice, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, a prominent vein popping through the skin of his smooth forehead. “Please, p-please, please let me come. I n-need it. Please!”

“Приди за мной, детка.”

Deciding that she could regret her actions in the morning, Y/n quickly grabbed his face before he could translate, angling his head so she could whisper directly into his ear at the same time he spoke the last line of the night.

“Come for me baby.”, they both spoke at the exact same time.

Pulling away as fast as possible, she watched his clamped eyes shoot open as the most obnoxiously loud moan she had ever heard escaped the poor kid, his whole body spasming as a result. And using the large stain on the crotch of his pants as a guide, she was pretty certain she knew what had happened.

For the next few minutes there was silence in the SUV, apart from Spencer’s heavy breathing as he came down of course, leading them to believe the couple had fallen asleep after their...activities. Of course she wanted nothing more than to tease the trembling mess next to her, but she could already tell he was mortified beyond belief because of what happened so she didn’t want to make it any worse for him than it already was.

After waiting a few extra minutes just to make sure that they had actually gone to sleep, the pair drove away from the stakeout location, Spencer not having said a word since his...big finish. As much as she loved watching him fall apart in front of her, she really didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable around her.

“Well that was certainly an unexpected turn of events for the night, huh?”, she said, lightly chuckling with the intent of lightening his mood. She was very glad to see it had the intended effect.

“Uh y-yeah...you could definitely say that again.”, he mumbled with the ghost of a smile on his plump lips, though she could still clearly make out the blush coating his features.

“So hey, I know that you usually take the metro, but I’d be more than happy to give you a ride home after we drop the SUV off at the office if you want.”, she warmly smiled in his direction without taking her eyes completely off the road.

“Oh um..yeah that would be perfect. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it Reid.”

~~~

The rest of the ride back to the office was pretty much spent in silence, but it was much more comfortable than it had been before, which was a huge relief. After dropping the keys to the SUV in the lock box inside, the two agents piled into Y/n’s car to go back home to their shared building. On their way back she considered just asking him if he wanted to ride with her everyday just to make his life a little easier in the long run.

Once they got to the parking lot and exited the vehicle, they began walking towards the entrance together, the awkward tension from before creeping back into the air around them. Soon enough, they found themselves standing in front of their respective doors, both unsure of how they were supposed to end the night’s interactions. After a few moments of painful silence and eye contact, Y/n was the first one to rip off the band-aid.

“So...I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Reid?” He seemed to be broken out of his trance by the sound of her voice, snapping back to attention.

“Huh? Oh yeah uh yes of course. S-see you tomorrow Y/n. Goodnight.” He scampered into his apartment before she could even get a chance to respond to his bidding.

“Goodnight.”, she whispered to no one other than herself as she unlocked her door and headed inside to shower quickly before diving into her soft sheets.

She was sitting up in her bed, book in hand, with only the small glow of her reading lamp illuminating her room when she heard it. Of course she knew immediately what they were, a talent that had developed and strengthened from living adjacent to a pretty much pubescent boy.

The tell-tale sound of moans and groans vibrating right through her wall.

She knew she probably shouldn’t be listening, something about a violation of privacy or whatever, but she just couldn’t help it. He sounded so desperate it was driving her insane. So much in fact that she was in the process of skimming her own hand downwards when she was interrupted by a certain something from the Doc’s room.

“Y/n! Oh god, please. Please.”

Oh. Oh.

Not even giving herself a second to consider her actions, she was up on her feet basically sprinting to his door, pajamas and all. Not even bothering with knocking, she noticed it was unlocked and let herself in, beelining for what she assumed was his bedroom by the increasing volume as she approached it. Standing in his doorframe, she was utterly mesmerized. There he was, sprawled across his sheets, completely bare with sweat coating his hair as he rapidly pumped his angry, red cock, her name tumbling from his lips like a chant.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” She smirked as she watched his head shoot up to where she was standing, his hand immediately stilling it’s rapid movements. Watching the panic spread on his face was intoxicating to her as she slowly approached his bed.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I uh-I didn’t um...” His words trailed off and his eyes widened as he watched her slowly begin removing her clothes as she moved closer to him.

“Shhhhhh.” She managed to remove both her shirt and pajama pants in the short trip over to his bed and she had no intention of stopping there. Now standing directly in front of him, she let her eyes wander over his still frame completely, soaking in the amazement in his dark eyes and the slight tremble that was periodically rippling through his body. Maintaining eye contact with him the whole time, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it pool on the floor next to her.

It was honestly shocking his eyes didn’t actually fall onto the floor with how far they bulged out of their sockets, a small moan leaving his mouth.

She giggled at his enthusiasm before bringing her soft hands up to caress his face gently, his body shuddering at the contact. “Do you want me to keep going baby boy?” Taking a second to process the question that had left her lips, he slowly nodded while looking her in the eyes, his own full of awe.

Happy with his answer, she reached for the edge of her panties before pushing them down to join the other pieces of clothing already inhabiting his floor. Spencer couldn’t speak. He could barely even breathe. Five minutes ago he had been jerking off to his neighbor, who also happened to be his coworker, and now said neighbor was crawling onto his bed, completely naked, with a wicked smirk on her face.

Straddling his lap, but making sure that there was no actual contact, she reached up to cup his face again, slowly rubbing circles into his defined cheekbone. “Is this ok baby boy? Is this what you want?”, she cooed.

Spencer looked like he honestly might cry from the pure compassion laced within her words, but still found a way to nervously nod his head in affirmation of her questions. With a warm smile on her face, she leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on his lower jaw before continuing up the side of his face, basking in the small whimpers that fell from his pretty lips. Finally reaching his ear, she let her warm breath tease him before proceeding.

“Do you want me to take control of you? Is that what you want sweet boy?” While the whine that immediately escaped him was answer enough, she pulled back searching for a more concrete answer to her question. “Hmmmm, you’d like that?”

“Yes.”, he whispered, nodding his head anxiously.

While he was answering she had leaned back towards his face, placing soft kisses all over. “As you wish baby boy.”, she whispered, changing course to attack his neck with her eager lips as soon the words left her mouth. Spencer gasped instantly and she couldn’t help but smirk against his pale flesh, increasing the pressure in which she was assaulting his neck.

Through the groans that spilled past his lips, she was able to make out his pathetic attempt at words, not slowing down her lips at all. “J-just make sure not to leave any m-marks. We’ll g-get in trouble at w-work.” Of course Spencer would be the only person on the planet to remember their office guidelines while getting his neck sucked like a vampire.

“No marks...that’ll be difficult. I want everyone to know just how thoroughly I fucked you.”

Feeling extremely satisfied by his enthusiastic response to her vulgar words, she slowly lowered herself down his body, pausing with her mouth right above his groin. Somehow the poor kid already looked completely fucked out and she hadn’t even done anything yet. Hearing him wince as she gently grasped and started stroking his cock, she knew this was gonna be fun.

Staring directly into her eyes, he watched the string of spit leave her mouth and drip directly onto his dick, eyes bulging at her bold actions, still in shock that any of this was actually happening.

Entranced by the way his chest expanded rapidly as he watched her curiously, she leaned forward and licked the tip, his head falling back onto the pillow behind him. “I’m gonna suck your cock...but only because I want to see if you can not be a spaz about getting head from me.” Her words made Spencer whimper and she smirked as she took him fully into her mouth, soaking in his pretty noises.

Y/n had only been going for a minute or two when she heard his groans get louder and felt him twitch in her mouth. Pulling off of him with a pop, she hummed at the sight of the completely wrecked boy in front of her, panting and shaking adorably. It wasn’t long before the perfect idea infiltrated her head, her body thrumming with anticipation and excitement.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me. I think you deserve a reward.”, she smirked, reciting the words that they had heard verbatim. Seemingly catching on to what she was pushing for, he responded accordingly.

“Please Y/n. I’ll do anything.”

She quirked her eyebrow in his direction questioningly, slowly grinding her dripping core against his achingly hard cock. “Anything, baby boy?”

Snapping his heated stare directly to her eyes, he cracked a beautiful smile. “Anything.”

She couldn’t control the grin that overtook her lips as she lowered herself down onto his erection, writhing in pleasure at the feel of him inside of her and the sound of his wanton moans. “Good boy.”

Wanting to give Spencer time to fully adjust and control himself, she started her movements out slow, lifting herself up until only his tip remained inside before dropping down completely into his lap repeatedly. He was a moaning mess on the sheets below her, sweat coating his body along with goosebumps covering every visible expanse of his skin as he panted like a dog. He was so fucking pretty like this.

Deciding enough was enough, she picked up the pace considerably, bouncing like a mad woman on his dick, while her sharp nails scratched down his creamy, pale chest in front of her, leaving angry, red streaks in their wake. Spencer had devolved into a blubbering mess underneath her and that lit her soul on fire.

“You like that don’t you, you little slut? Like your cock deep inside of me? Huh?”

Y/n was pretty sure that he was short circuiting below her, his brain cutting off all control over his body as he spasmed uncontrollably and moaned for the entire fucking building to hear. Good, she thought. Let them hear how whipped he was for her. Even though it had only been a few minutes since she increased her speed, she could feel his cock starting to twitch violently inside of her and she knew he was close, really close.

“Is the little slut gonna come for me already?” All he could do was whimper in response, having to nod his head emphatically due to his loss of speech.

“Beg for it then. Fucking beg for me to let you come!” She was on fucking cloud nine right now, floating through the motions, as his whimpers increased in volume and speed. Mustering up all the strength he could, he spit out as many audible words as possible.

“Please! Please, please, please let me come! I need it! Please!” He was crying now, tears rapidly pouring from his eyes and spilling down his cheeks out of sheer desperation and need to release the tension built up within his body.

She was in awe of him. As she watched the tears pour down his face, she couldn’t help but whimper too. Desperately needing to finish, herself, she brought one hand down to make circles around her clit, while the other she brought up to wrap gently around his flushed throat, leaning over to whisper in his ear like she had earlier that night.

“Come for me, baby.”

She once again pulled back to witness his reactions to her hushed words, the outcome only more amazing than before. She watched as his eyes rolled back as far they could possibly go into his head as his mouth dropped open in pure ecstasy, high-pitched whines escaping his lips, his release shooting up into her like it had always belonged there. Maybe it had.

Watching him come undone below her, combined with her hand speedily rubbing circles on her clit, she was catapulted into the most amazing climax of her entire life, her body buzzing with excitement as she tightened around him and collapsed on his chest, weak as could be after that activity.

The pair laid silently, apart from the heaving breaths whirring through the room, still in shock over what had just transpired minutes before. Slowly shifting her eyes to the shivering boy below her, she saw he was caught in a trance, his eyes dazed, a soft grin on his lips.

Breaking him from his stupor, she gently cupped his cheek with one hand as the other drew lazy circles on his blotchy chest. Rubbing the skin on his face lightly, she leaned forward and kissed his nose, making him scrunch it up and giggle as a result. “Such a sweet boy for me. Such a sweet, sweet boy.” Her words made him melt inside and words tumbled out of his own mouth before he could even think about stopping them.

“Вы красивы внутри и снаружи.”

She looked up at him in shock, before breaking out in giggles. “Did you just serenade me in Russian? How romantic.”, she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

He couldn’t seem to control his giggles either, a fact that warmed her heart. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

Smiling up at the adorable boy she just had to ask. “What does it mean?”

Y/n watched as his signature blush quickly coated his features once again as he looked down at her with a shy smile. “You are beautiful, inside and out.”

With the warmest grin she could muster, she leaned up and kissed his jaw once more before snuggling up against the young doctor who had melted her heart.

Tag List: @hopebaker @pastathighs @psychedellic-phase @gloryekaterina @sleepysnapesnake @racharr @etherealgubler @furiouspartyrebelhoagie @andiebeaword @liaabsurd @cielo1984 @starkeybaby @victomizedbyreginageorge @rainsong01 @moonlight-jukebox @gretaamyk @httpnxtt @rachelxwayne @goldnratio @cheyxminds @kricketc29 @cupcake525 @pinkdiamond1016 @slutforthegubes @shadyladyperfection @emilysallysmith @babblingbrookex @legendaryanimeaestheticclou @sunstspidey @ashwarren32 @pixels-impulse @eviewildflower @spencerreider @awkwardsadaa @dirty-pan-goblin @spencerspecifics

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fic #spencer #spencer reid #dr reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg fic #spencer x reader #cm fic #spencer reid smut #cm fluff #cm smut #spencer reid fluff #smut #fluff #many thoughts head full #oneshot

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wagner-fell · 3 years

Text

Mari kicked down the dressing room door with a bang so loud Kevin jumped and spilled his hot coffee cup all over himself. Hearing his yelps of pain, Astrid peaked her head out of the curtain, laughed at his expense then shut it again. Maria ignored that.

They strutted out to where the boys were sitting and struck a pose. “Can I rock cottage core or can I rock cottage core?”

Kit didn’t trust himself to speak. He simply nodded instead. While the baby blue dress with short, ruffled sleeves looked a bit out of place paired with Mari’s bulging muscles, she looked absolutely stunning.

The Merry Hoes were located in the back room of the antique store Kevin’s family owned. The Chu’s just got a large donation of vintage clothing. Mari had just gotten their pay check from the downworlder gym she worked at. Kit and Astrid really didn’t want to do their maths homework. It was destiny.

Despite being downworlders both Blessica and Kevin still lived at home. Mari, though, lived with the rest of their pack in an old Edwardian mansion a few blocks away from school. However the five of them slept over at each other’s place of residence so often they blurred together in the young Herondale’s mind. He could really only tell them apart by their smells.

Mari’s reeked of dirty laundry as they were one of four folks on the feminine side of the gender scale out of the lycanthropy of London, Blessica excluded. Her house smelled like Ube, a type of yam her Filipino parents put in everything. Kit couldn’t complain. Ube flavoured ice cream was the best thing he’s ever eaten. Aside from Mari. Though he wasn’t usually the one… Nevermind.

Kevin’s house smelled of Longjing tea and red wine. A peculiar combination that oddly enough, worked quite well.

Astrid had two homes as her parents divorced at the age of six. Stepping into her mom’s house was like stepping into a cookie factory. Which made sense as her mom owned a bakery and lived above it. Kit didn’t know exactly what Astrid’s dad’s place smelled like, let alone looked like, but he could make an educated guess that it was similar to the Los Angeles Institute because it was in LA too.

After they separated, Miss Yang fled to Devon to dodge the possibility of seeing her ex-husband when they exchanged Astrid. Kit related to her on a deep, personal level.

Now Astrid spent her summers in America and Kit drained his battery on international phone calls.

Her three months in the USA each year helped him bond with her better when they had first been introduced. For example, her ringtone was the Perry the Platypus theme song. Blessica, Kevin and Maria had no clue what it was but when the music reached Kit’s ears, the two sang an epic duet that put Kiss Me More (the second most iconic duet in history) to shame.

“How much is this anyway,” asked Mari, turning in a circle to see if there was a price tag. In the process she sent the fabric fluttering as she went. It made them look more magical than ever.

“There is no price on fabulousness,” said Astrid. She had on loose, black dress pants, a white shirt, and black suspenders with gold blemishes.

“Yes there is,” replied Kevin. “54 euros.”

“54 euros,” exclaimed Mari.

“Well it would have been €34 but you made me spill my coffee and this shirt was 20 so..”

“Seriously, Kev. I will fuck your mom. You think I won’t?” A pause. “Wait, only twenty €20?”

“Oh, I know right! There is this incredible thrift store down on Fleet Street and-”

“Don’t care,” interrupted Mar. She took one last look in the mirror before turning back to him. “I’ll give you your parents' price, not your dramatic ass’s one.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Fine. But it’s an extra €10 for the shoes.”

Mari looked down at her tan sandals. They leaned against the door they just excited to take the footwear off. “Racist,” she muttered under her breath.

“I’m literally Chinese.”

“Homophobic, then.”

“Pansexaul,” he sang.

Mari was silent for a moment before she banged on the door into the room Blessica was changing into her rose pink gown. “Blessie! Do I have permission to call Kev transphobic in your name?”

“Hey,” said Kevin, looking up from his task of rubbing a paper towel across his sheer, white shirt. “That’s cheating. Blessie, don’t listen to them!”

The nickname ‘Blessie’ was what her family exclusively called her. She turned red when they had first found out. Granted, it wasn’t hard to make Blessica blush. All she had to do was stand in Kevin’s general area.

“Blessica,” called Mari once again. When she still didn’t answer, Maria stood up and pressed their forehead against the changing room door. “You okay?”

“No,” Blessica croaked out finally. Her hoarse voice was laced with sorrow. Upon hearing her speak, Kevin abandoned any hope of saving his top and joined Mari at the door. Kit and Astrid were quick to follow.

“Hey,” said Astrid gently. “What’s wrong?”

Blessica began to sob. “The dress doesn’t fit right,” she whimpered.

“That’s okay,” soothed Kevin. “We have other sizes.”

“Kev, it doesn’t fit my body because it wasn’t made for my body. I just feel so ugly.” All the other Merry Hoes made various sounds of distress. Kit was instantly reminded of Dru,

He was suddenly fifteen again. In Ty’s bedroom as he told him of all the times she’d been told she wasn’t pretty by members of the Shadowhunter society. And all the times Emma or Julian or another member of her family had reassured her that she was. The thought occurred to Kit that maybe they weren’t Emma-y as Blessica needed them to be.

“It’s just like,” started Blessica, “I started taking Estrogen seven months ago, you know? And I still don’t have anything to show for it.”

His mind was racing a mile a minute. “Yes you do,” he said.

“I do?” she asked, sounding dubious.

“Your voice!”

“You do have a really nice voice,” agreed Astrid. “You could totally narrate audiobooks or something.”

“No it’s not,” grumbled Kevin.

“Kevin,” said Mari, glaring daggers at him. ‘Kevin’ in this case didn’t mean Kevin. It meant ‘Shut your mouth right or I will actually kill you’.

“No, not like that! It’s just…” he was blushing profusely now. “Her voice is like the rain. Most of the time it’s soft and warm and it wraps you in one big, wet hug. You can’t help but feel, well, blessed to get to feel it touching your skin.. But when it rains hard you feel every single drop land. But no matter what kind of rain it is, the impact is always enormous. Uh, yeah, her voice is like that.” There was a moment of prolonged silence, where Blessica had stopped crying but no one was brave enough to talk.

The door opened and Kit, Kevin and Astrid stumbled backwards. Mari didn’t. Stupid gorgous jock, Kit thought as she survayed her inferiourors.

Blessica stood in the open doorway. Her eyes were puffy and red. The dress looked perfect on her. Not that this style hadn’t looked perfect on Mari but their arms were so thick, they filled up the entire selve. Blessica was so petite you could see her bones clearly through the skin. It highlighted the flowness of the gown extremely well. “You guys like my voice?” Then, “why are you all staring at me, is it that bad?”

“Blessie,” said Mari. “You can’t just put on that in front of four people who like women and expect them not to stare.”

“Respectfully, of course,” added Kit.

“Just tell us if it makes you uncomfortable,” agreed Kevin.

“Step on me,” breathed Astrid.

“But then again,” said Mari, “you validate yourself too.”

“Run me over with a cement truck.”

“We can see your hot as fuck. But more importantly you have to believe you’re hot as fuck.”

“You could literally kill me and I’d get on my knees to thank you.”

Blessica was blushing as hard as Kevin now. They sheepishly smiled at each other before turning away. “Simp,” said Kit and he held out his hand. Astrid dutifully rewarded him with a high five.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am on the trans spectrum but I am not mtf. If you are and you feel misrepresented please feel free to private message me or just leave a comment tell me how I can fix it.

@the-wckd-powers @book-dragon-not-worm @thechangeling @the-blackdale @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @illusions-give-reasons-to-live @shelvesofgold @arangiajoan @maxboythedog @noah-herondale-lightwood @its-taff @cncnbr @sofiatheskeleton @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @adoravel-fenomeno

Let me know if I left anyone out. Also let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list.

#The Merry Hoes #Kit Rook #Kit Herondale #mari the werewolf #mari machado #astrid yang #blessica reyes #Kevin chu #dru blackthorn #drusilla blackthorn #ty blackthorn #tiberius blackthorn #tsc

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krappykawa · 4 years

Note

Okie so Can I request some headcanons for atsumu tsukishima and kuroo who has an s/o who's more reserved and likes to read and often likes to just be comfertable like they climb into their lap while reading or using their laptop because they feel more comfortable that way in public or not,and the s/o has really dry humor and makes jokes about some of there classmates but in a super subtle way that makes you have to really think about what they said.1/2

ATSUMU, KUROO, AND TSUKISHIMA WITH A S/O THAT LIKES TO READ

atsumu x reader, kuroo x reader, tsukishima x reader

genre. fluff

warnings. language

word count. 2k

part 2 of the ask

note. there was a lot of stuff in this request so i hope i got most of what you were asking for!!

ATSUMU

— you two met because you were reading at the park when suddenly a ball came flying over your head

— like straight up WHOOSH (probably could have taken your head off lmao)

— you were just trying to finish this book you were reading, and so you were really irritated when this blonde guy runs up to you

— “oh shit sorry! did ya get hit anywhere?”

— now, of course you knew who he was because how could you not when this dude is notorious for being an asshole at your school

—you’re not really one to really judge until you meet someone though, so you didn’t immediately tell him to go away

— you mumbled something like “does he usually almost murder people on a daily basis?” under your breath

— atsumu heard you and had the nerve to smile

— “i’d never attempt to murder someone as pretty as you, darlin’”

— you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes

— you ignored him and he was like “whaaa??” cause this dude could get any girl to talk to him and you just ignored him

— at that point, he’d picked up the volleyball and was just watching you as you went back to your reading (not in a weird way or anything lmao)

— you knew he was staring, but you refused to look up

— “whatcha’ readin’?”

— “don’t you have anyone else, like literally anyone else, that you can be bothering right now?”

— he smirked and then shrugged “no, not really”

— you ended up looking up at him and then back at your book before standing up and leaving him where he was standing without saying another word

— oh man, this doof is whipped from then on

— let’s just say he warms up to you because you find out that he’s actually kind of funny (like he’ll make jokes about the classmates that he knows don’t like him and you have to fight a laugh because this man has absolutely no shame and says what you’re thinking but are too afraid to say out loud)

— you know you should be telling him off for doing so, but you agree in your head so it seems hypocritical to tell him to stop

— he’s funny in other ways too

— like he straight up guffaws with this ugly laugh and you have to wonder why exactly it is that this guy is so popular with the girls

— well it’s this guy that wormed into your heart, so really you can’t be talking

— he’s also strangely interested in your books? he never reads them, but he genuinely listens when you rant about this character or this ending that you don’t like because he likes how you don’t have a filter when absolutely bashing a character or book

— when you start talking about how annoying a character is and how you wish they’d fallen into some sort of pit ... atsumu’s on the floor with laughter

— he gets all heart eyes when you talk about something in the book that you do like because you have that cute little smile on your face that you never show him otherwise

— so when you eventually start dating him, he fully understands how much you like to read (he doesn’t mind it either because you’ll sometimes go to his practices and just read on the sidelines, or when he doesn’t have time to spend time with you because of volleyball he doesn’t feel as bad because you were gonna catch up on your current book anyway)

— LOVES it when you climb on his lap and curl up against him while you read

— he’s like a giant tsum tsum (pun intended)

— if he’s not doing anything while you’re on his lap, sometimes he’ll lay his chin on your shoulder and read along with you (which he turns into some kind of game because he has to read extra fast so that he can read the whole page before you turn the page)

— you eventually catch on to what he’s doing so you make it your personal vendetta to read faster than him

— one day he catches you reading a book on the couch while wearing his sweatshirt

— he thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world

— he’s already taken a picture of you and made it his lockscreen before you even notice what’s happening

— he may or may not also have that picture on his wall just so he can smile at it before falling asleep

— this guy hates paying attention in class, so when you send him a text about how something just happened in your book in the middle of class, he eagerly responds right away

— has absolutely no clue what you’re on about because he doesn’t really pay attention to what’s happening in your books, but he’s genuinely interested in you talking about them because he likes the way you get so excited

— will text like “what?? no way” or “hell yea get him!!”

— basically really short texts because he’d much rather read about you ranting than actually contribute to the conversation

— sometimes you’ll send him updates about your book while he’s at practice or while he’s sleeping so he can’t answer right away

— he absolutely crashes no later than 12 AM because he’s tired from practice, so he doesn’t read your 1 AM screaming session until he wakes up in the morning

— he’ll laugh at his phone because there’s just this stream of messages about you freaking out over something

— osamu hits him with a pillow sometimes when he starts loudly laughing at 6 in the morning after reading your texts

KUROO

— THIS MAN IS A STRAIGHT UP NERD

— like he literally reads chemistry books for fun (i know he does. you cannot fight me on this. he does.)

— he’s best friends with kenma so he already knows what it’s like when someone he cares about is super engrossed in something that they don’t want to be bothered with

— he’ll come over to your house just to do homework while you read

— sometimes if his hand starts to cramp up while writing he’ll plop down right next to you and try to get a look at the page you’re reading

— you literally have to fight the urge to swat him away

— because HIS HAIR

— HIS HAIR GETS IN THE WAY

— like you’ll be reading and suddenly this big mess of black hair obscures your vision

— one time he did that right as you were about to get to the really good part of the story and you almost took scissors and cut all of his hair off right then and there

— after the first time he does it he realizes it annoys you

— so naturally he does it as many times as he can

— you started to catch on after he did it a few times, so now every time he gets off his bed while you’re reading, you literally sprint to your bathroom and lock yourself in

— cue his hyena laugh

— will literally stand at the door of your bathroom and bother you until you have no choice but to come out (you glare at him when you do and he thinks it’s so cute so he does this a lot)

— to get back at him you start to climb into his lap while he’s doing homework and refuse to budge

— at first it’s just for revenge purposes, but he is literally the most comfortable pillow

— you take any chance you get and crawl into his lap after that

— you stole his shirt once because it was a graphic tee of this character from one of your books

— kuroo’s eyes nearly fall out of his head when he sees you wearing it

— “take my entire closet. take it. you can keep anything forever because you look so good wow.”

— one time he was doing homework when you slammed your book shut and screamed into your pillow

— he just stared at you for a good minute while you did that

— when you stopped screaming he waited a little bit to ask what was wrong because he was kinda scared to ask

— when you told him it was because of your book he practically melted

— “literally marry me right now oh my god???”

— sometimes you’ll text him in class about the book you’re reading, but he won’t read it until after the class is over because he actually pays attention in class (which you tease him for)

— after class though he’ll greet you by asking about what happened in the book because he is literally invested in anything you text him about when it comes to what you’re reading

— like he literally yelled “WHAT??” in the middle of the gym after one of his practices because he was so distraught over you texting him to say that his favorite character died

— everyone on the team thought they got in trouble or something, so when this absolute nerd goes “oh shit sorry *insert character name here* just died in this book Y/N is reading” the team loses their shit

TSUKISHIMA

— you two met because you sat next to him once in the library

— he doesn’t usually spend time in the library, but yamaguchi was out sick that day so he decided it was his best bet since he wasn’t keen on talking to anyone that day

— he practically glared at you when you pulled on the chair across from him and sat down

— at first, you thought he was glaring at something behind you, so you turned around and there was nothing there

— you realized that he was glaring at you, but you were not phased in the slightest

— “are you alright? you look like you’re envisioning a very slow and painful death for me.”

— he actually almost smiled at that. almost.

— after that, he stopped glaring at you, but he didn’t say a word in response

— you didn’t mind because you were just there to read in silence anyway

— he came to the library more often after that

— he told himself that it was because he didn’t want to give kageyama or hinata the chance to corner him for homework help, but really he was there because of you

— he always sat at the same table and you always sat in the seat across from him

— it became like a little routine between you two

— one time he was doing his homework and you were reading when you caught him sneaking glances at you

— you kept quiet about it though because you knew he’d deny it if you asked

— after a few months of only seeing each other in the library and never talking, he’s the first one to break the silence

— “do you … do you read anywhere else?”

— at first, you’re offended

— but then you look closer and see the little blush on his cheeks and suddenly you realize what’s going on

— you don’t look up from your book when you say, “i read at the bakery down the street sometimes. i think i’ll be there this saturday at noon”

— low and behold he actually shows up at the bakery that saturday

— he’s sitting at one of the tables with a plate of strawberry shortcake and he’s picking at it like he’s angry with it

— “gee, what did the poor shortcake ever do?”

— he looks so nervous when he looks up and you think it’s the cutest thing ever

— you both consider that day in the bakery your first date (spoiler alert: it actually went really well)

— after that, you would meet at the library and one of you would state a place and a time where you would be and just hope that the other shows up

— he always shows up to yours. you always show up to his.

— you two never really have a talk about making it official, it just sort of happens??

— dates with him after you two become a “thing” consist of you reading while he watches weird documentaries about insects

— he just likes the feeling of having you around so it doesn’t bother him when you don’t want to watch the documentary with him

— you two will sometimes sit at the park during a date and just make weird assumptions about the people walking by and each assumption becomes an inside joke between the two of you (“i bet he went to a culinary school but can’t cook” or “she probably has three cats at home that she knits little sweaters for”)

— he is not very keen on physical affection (even when you’re alone)

— but he eventually warms up to you. just a little bit.

— it takes you a long time to convince him to let you sit on his lap for even a second so the second time that you decide to crawl into his lap while he’s watching another documentary he goes

— “what are you doing?”

— you’re kind of a little shit so you just smile to yourself and say “reading.”

— you can practically hear the gears turning in his brain

— for a second you think that he might actually push you off

— but then he relaxes

— he doesn’t put his hands anywhere on you while you’re in his lap but you already know that him letting you sit there for longer than a minute is one of the longest showings of affection you’ll get from him so you just snuggle further into him and he relaxes

— you also send him a lot of texts about your books

— literally his number might as well be saved as goodreads on your phone because his number is like a review dump for you

— i’m talking full-on paragraphs of analysis and little reactions that probably span as 15 messages in a row

— sometimes he replies and sometimes he doesn’t

— when he doesn’t reply, he’ll ask you about the book the next time you see each other though

— he might say it’s annoying but you know that he secretly loves it when you text him your reviews and reactions

— when he can’t sleep he’ll text you at 1 AM and ask you how the book you’re reading is going

— he falls asleep with a smile on his face after he basically gets a whole novel worth of text messages from you

requests are open!!

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo x reader #atsumu headcanons #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu!!

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lilxberry · 4 years

Text

Lost Then Found - Bofur

Requested By: @prestongoodplayisbabey

Could I have a Bofur x reader where the reader gets lost (she’s part of the company) and when Bofur and the rest find her she’s eating a bear she caught with her own hands? I loved ur fic for @iwazoomingouttahere 💕

It’s probably a little different to what you were expecting but who doesn’t love a surprise amiright?! Also, I’m really glad that you liked the other fic so much that you wanted to request something for yourself so I hope that you like it

Warnings: A lil bit sad, wouldn’t say angsty though. Fluff. Mentions of death (animal). Mentions of blood. Mentions Bofur without his hat lmao. I think that’s it, don’t quote me on that.

Words: 2,713

Pairings: Bofur x Reader (female reader)

_______________

It was definitely NOT your fault when you had become separated from the company. Everyone takes a wrong turn occasionally and loses the entire group they were travelling with. Right? It’s not like you heard a strange noise a bit away and went to investigate and when you returned, you found that they pressed on without you. If anything, it’s THEIR fault you were now separated from you. The big knuckleheads are completely oblivious sometimes. Anywho, that isn’t the point. It most certainly, definitely, absolutely WASN’T your fault.

Honestly, you actually had no clue in which direction they took off in but nevertheless, you followed your gut. They’re quite the noisy bunch so it shouldn’t be too hard to find them if you were on the right track. So, when you hear no rowdy group of 13 dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard, you deducted that you either went the wrong way of they finally learnt the meaning of the word silence.

_______________

You huffed as you sat down on the damp ground as you were surrounded by forestry. The towering trees and shrubbery provided great cover for when you slept alone at night. You brought your knapsack that contained your bedroll over to your side where you rested against the mossy tree. You wrestle your bedroll from its confinement within your sack and roll it out, ready for when you rest when it gets darker.

As you finish up sorting your sleeping arrangement, you turned and looked at the slight clearing which you’ve chosen to set up camp before groaning slightly and setting out ready to find whatever you could for kindling the fire you plan to build. You set out slightly away from where you’ve set up your bedroll and knapsack and begin searching the ground for anything that isn’t to damp and will burn.

All you can think about as you collect fuel for your campfire is of the company, more specifically, a certain dwarf who had captured your heart with his whittling, singing and goofy hat that never leaves his head. You sigh, wondering if he even cared that you had disappeared, if any of them cared really. You had been separated for almost a week, surely, they noticed at least.

You shake your head. ‘Of course, they care.’ You groaned as you realised you practically came to a standstill as your mind wandered instead of doing what you intended on doing so. You look at the singular stick within your hand and huff. “It’s gonna be a long night…”

_______________

Bofur’s mood had been off lately, everyone could tell, especially his brother and cousin. They all dearly missed Y/N and were concerned about where she is now and whether she is safe, but it’s Bofur who’s losing his mind over his missing One.

Bofur knew the moment he first laid on the girl that she was his One, he almost instantly confided in his brother and cousin about the subject. He even asked Balins’ ear off over what he should do. He loved how Y/N’s smile always happened to brighten up his day, or how her laugh could lure any man for it was easily mistakable for a sirens call.

He even loved how she was the only person to truly make him flush a deep red. She matched him perfectly when it came to humour, making him flush when a sarcastic, dirty joke passed her lips.

The dwarf sighed as he sat himself down on a log beside his cousin and the young princes’. The three all shared a concerned look towards each other then turned their gaze towards the love stricken, hat wearing whittler.

“Don’t worry Bofur, we’ll find her.” Fíli spoke, placing a comforting hand atop his companions’ shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah. She’s probably right on our ass knowing her.” Kíli joked, attempting to lighten the mood. Bofur could only offer a solemn shrug and a smile that couldn’t meet his eyes. The brothers turned to Bifur, hoping he would know what to say.

Bifur shook his head and shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly before looking towards his cousin and offering him the most comforting of smiles he could muster up. “We will find her soon. I promise cousin. We will find your One.”

Bofurs’ smile a tad bit more genuine at his cousins’ words. He sat up that little bit straighter before standing and facing towards Bombur who stood near the campfire. “I’m gonna see if Bombur needs help lads, thanks.” And with that, he slugged his way over, looking down towards the ground and sighing out deeply.

“Where the bloody hell are ya, lass…”

_______________

You head away from your camp and towards the deeper parts of the woods, ready to hunt for your meal. Crouching low to the ground, you spot small tracks, a rabbit most likely. You slowly and quietly followed the small tracks, hoping to come across meat for your food.

A small crackle within the bushes before you forced you to snap your head up. You smiled victoriously as you raised your bow and arrow, steadying your breathing, bringing your elbow back past your ear, forcing you to stare down the length of the piercing wood with a steel pointed head. ‘Got you, ya bastard.’

Just before you released your arrow to send the arrow piercing through the air, the small rabbit emerged from behind the bush, standing on its hind legs, revealing itself as not a small rabbit like you intended to find but a large, burly bear covered in a dark, fur coat.

You fell backwards from your crouched position on to your behind, clamping a hand over your mouth, your breathing becoming increasingly heavier, almost hyperventilating. Your eyes were wide with fear as the bear raised its snout into the air and sniffs, almost as if it were searching for you. You slowly crawled away backwards, putting some distance between you and the beast.

Your efforts had practically been futile.

The bear whipped its head towards you in a flash, staring at you for moment, a moment where you could only hold your breath and pray to whatever God could hear you. The beast released a loud, ground shaking roar, a heavy growl underlining it before it burst out into a run towards you. You scrambled to stand quickly and take lengthy steps back as you drew your sword, unsheathing it from its position at your hip, your bow and arrow long forgotten on the dirt ground.

It lunges towards you and you let a piercing scream tear its way through your throat. You drove your sword up into the chest cavity of the beast as it fell down from the force of its attack, impaling the beast on to your weapon.

It bawled out and whimpered in pain as it laid dying atop of your smaller form. You struggled to worm yourself out from underneath the beast and laid yourself beside it, sprawled out like a starfish and chest heaving heavily as your tried to catch your breath. “I’m sorry…” you whispered to the bear, a tear escaping from the corner of your eye.

You rolled on to your side and slowly came to a stand. You retrieved your dagger from your belt and stepped closer to the corpse. Embedding the blade into the bear, you began to skin and salvage any possible meat from the beast, your body quickly being covered in the luke-warm crimson liquid.

“I’m so, so sorry…”

_______________

The company had sat around the fire, eating whatever Bombur had been able to form into an appetising broth when they heard the loud roar of a beast. They all momentarily paused, all either halting their chewing or stilling the movement of the spoon coming closer to their mouths.

Their eyes travelled along each other as they sat a few moments in silence, some slowly lowering their bowls down, cautious if any over the few decibels they were making would draw whatever it was to them. But once they heard the feminine scream moments after, they jumped up and raced towards whatever they hoped to find.

Everyone was hopeful that it was their missing lass, all the while they wished it weren’t. The scream could never be a good sign. Bofur was the first to spring to action and burst through the treelines to head deeper into the woodland. All he could think is that his One could be in danger and he isn’t with her to protect her.

The others followed suit, rushing towards whatever it was. They dodged and weaved through trees and climbed over and under branched and roots. They ran and ran until they came across the carcass of a bear, a large one at that. It was partially missing some fur along with most of the meat that once encased its bones.

They searched the area, high and low. As Kíli crouched low towards the ground, he noticed the strange disturbances the ground had gone through. He assumed it was that of someone shuffling backwards in a vulnerable state. He brought the scuffle evident in the dirt to Thorins’ and the companies attention.

They backtracked the marks in the dirt and found where they had started, near a bush. They continued to search but one discovery had sent everyone into a state of panic and fear. Your bow and a singular arrow.

“She must’ve been here. You cannot deny it is hers!”

Finding your own tracks that came from your boots hadn’t been difficult to do. So, with that, they hastily followed your footprints, double and triple checking they were on the right track. A million thoughts whirled through their heads. What had happened? Were you alright? Had you been injured?

Bofur felt an array of emotions as he tailed the company, perplexed about what he had hoped to find. He so desperately hoped it was you, but what if they found you in a condition they so desperately didn’t want to come across. What he didn’t want to come across. He would never forgive himself if you had been injured or worse, never forgiving himself for not being able to protect you. His woman, his One.

He prayed to Mahal all throughout their search for you and soon, he found his prayer answered. There you were, sat beside a small campfire atop a thick coat of black fur, turning large chunks of meat over the fire, roasting it for your meal, all the while you were still covered nearly head to toe in nearly crisp dry blood.

Bofur dropped his weapon to the floor and rushed over to you, causing you to jump near enough a foot off the ground. “Mahal, Y/N, I’ve been worried sick!” He enveloped you in a bone crushing hug, dis-concerned about the blood, your shocked face and the other members who watched on. He pulled back ever so slightly and cup your face in between his hands, staring at you intensely. “Where did you run off to?!”

You swallowed down the dry lump that had formed into your throat and looked into his eyes, the other members of the company momentarily forgotten. “I uh-I heard a noise, so I went to check it out and when I came back, you guys weren’t there…” you trailed off, tears forming in your (E/C) orbs, threatening to spill at a moments notice. “I…I thought you guys didn’t care…”

The dam had broken and you now openly sobbed, tears had begun to stream down your face like salty waterfalls. Bofur had reacted quickly, bringing you into yet another hug, seeming more desperate than the last. You clung on to him like a scared child would cling on to their mother as you wept and wept into his chest. The other members all watched with saddened eyes, their hearts breaking the slightest at the thought of you thinking they hadn’t cared that you had disappeared.

“We’re right here lass, I’m right here. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Bofur whispered sweet, soothing words in your ear as he laid a gentle kiss upon your forehead. “I ain’t ever letting you out of my sight ever again, ya hear?” You sniffled and even released the faintest of giggles as you lifted your head up to look Bofur in the eye. He smiled down at you and you could do nothing but return it with a tiny one of your own. “Aye, there’s my lass and that beautiful smile. Not as beautiful as mine though.” He spoke to you with such love and care.

You had laughed once more, always thankful for Bofur and his attempt at making others smile. “I missed you.” You whispered, leaning your forehead against his own.

He beamed towards you as the words passed your lips. “I missed you more, amrálíme.” He spoke not even a decibel louder than you before planting his lips firmly against your own. You froze, shocked by what was happening, but before you knew it, you melted into the kiss and matched his passion and love, raising your arms to wrap loosely around his neck.

The company all had smiles etched across their faces, some of them cheering and realising high pitched wolf whistles. You two broke the kiss as if remembering you were surrounded by others. You flushed a deep red whilst Bofur only seemed to beam towards you once more.

“I would like it if you would allow me to court ya and braid your hair, lass.” He spoke with such confidence that it almost made you neglect the pink tint his cheeks adorned. All you could do was nod and smile sheepishly as your blush intensified. He grinned from ear to ear and kissed you once more, one you happily returned.

Parting, he stood and extended his hand down towards you. You placed your smaller hand into his own before his encased yours and pulled you gently to stand beside him. As soon as you gained your balance, Bombur had rushed towards you and crushed you in his own embrace, him clearly missing you a lot just like his brother. You chuckled as you hugged him back, the company also finding Bomburs affection amusing. It even elicited a deep, throaty chuckle from the ever-brooding Thorin.

You all headed back towards the camp the company had set up, not without grabbing your belonging along with the meat and fur you obtained for the bear you had the misfortune of running into. Bofur had a protective arm around you the entire time, not even removing himself from your side once you had reached the camp.

Bombur and Bifur had taken it upon themselves to cook yet another meal for the company, seeing as you had salvaged much meat from the beast. You all sat and ate, they barraged you with questions about the week you had been separated from them. They even asked about the bear you had taken down and how you lugged so much its meat back towards your makeshift sleeping area.

As you talked and talked with the company on how you had no clue if you were even heading in the right direction towards them, Bofur stared at you lovingly, afraid that if he were to blink, you would become separated once again.

He thanked Mahal a million times over in his head, thankful that they had found you again, that he had found you again. He smiled, removing his hat which he then proceeded to place atop of yours. It fell past your eye, obstructing your vision, causing you to push it up whilst you giggled.

Bofur released a chuckled of his own as he brough you further into his side and rest his head on top of yours. “Amrálíme?”

You smiled as you hear his hushed use of the affectionate name. “Yes Bofur?”

“I love you.”

You turned and looked up at him through your eyelashes, that hat of his threatening to fall over your eyes once again and smiled. “I love you.” You snuggled further into his warm, loving embrace and you both sighed in happiness and contentment.

He’ll be damned if he ever got separated from his One ever again. And Mahal help whoever stands in his way.

_______________

First fic uploaded in 2021, lets gooooo!

It’s a little different to what the requester probably envisioned but the overall plot is still there so all I can hope is that they like it

BRO I HATED THAT I HAD TO WRITE ABOUT KILLING A BEAR, THAT SHIT SAD BRUH lmao

I hope you all enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

#bofur #bofur x #bofur x reader #bofur the dwarf #x reader #x female reader #x fem reader #x fem!reader #the hobbit #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x #the hobbit x reader #fluff #thorin's company #thorin's company x reader

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darkzonediaries · 2 years

Text

Is Lyekka a plant? A bio-weapon?

Despite former “Bio-Vizier” Mantrid addressing her as “plant lady” (“End of the Universe”) I don’t think that Lyekka actually is a plant. Rather, I suspect that her species was engineered by weapons scientists (who probably then went the way of the folks behind the Claggia-worm from “Eating Pattern”) to look like plants, as cover for their man-eating ways.

There are a number of clues to this. Perhaps most obvious, Lyekka never, so far as we know, performs photosynthesis. When she gets hungry, as in “791,” she doesn’t ask the crew to find her a sunny planet; she asks them to take her to prey animals. Neither do the “sister-Lyekkas” plant themselves in Earth’s soil and start absorbing rays during season four. Instead, they live in a closed-up asteroid-ship (so, no sun), intend to eat everyone on Earth, and have already destroyed all life on several other planets.

Lyekka herself is semi-benign, or at least not an existential threat to the entire human species. In “Garden,” the dream-derived copy of her shows the forethought to ask who will tend the garden if she eats the gardener. Put together, though, the sister-Lyekkas exhibit a rabid desire to destroy whole ecosystems, regardless of whether it serves their long-term interests. As Kai points out (I’m trying to think of which episode it was; maybe “Lyekka vs. Japan”?), they will, sooner or later, run out of planets. They brush him off by noting that there are still a lot of “tasty” planets out there.

This strikes me as pretty close to how an unethical bioengineer/weapons scientist, operating on an interplanetary level, would want his/her creations to think: Mass cooperation within a hive mind, focused on the goal of devouring everything in sight, even if it leads to their own eventual starvation. The only thing missing is an effective “kill switch” for when they quit being useful. Again, all of this sounds like the backstory of the worms from “Eating Pattern.”

Of course, the Lyekka-sisters have a far more sophisticated design than the worms. Their pods can maneuver through both vacuum (“Lyekka”) and air (“Apocalexx Now”); when not swimming, they look like harmless, stationary plants. Note that only the pod has this static, plant-like form: Lyekka herself can melt into a liquid and assume the form of, at minimum, any humanoid she wants. Sure, evolution produces some amazing disguises, but this is a strangely specific disguise for something that can function, without technological assistance, in environments ranging from Vietnam to outer space. It’s a lot like the disguise you’d make to infiltrate a society of people who 1) knew about plants and 2) considered them stationary and more or less harmless.

TL;DR: I adore Lyekka, but I also think that she’s probably a genocidal science project gone wrong. And I adore LEXX, because where else would the above sentence make perfect sense?

#reposted from my site #lexx #meta #lyekka #lyekka and lyekka-adjacent characters #mine

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silksandcravats · 4 years

Text

Minor Disagreements

Summary: A short piece in which Flip cannot possibly understand why you might want to live in a van...

masterlist

warnings: explicit language, female reader, arguement, brief reference to sex

You and Flip were pretty different people, you’d known this since the beginning when you started dating. You were free-spirited and adventurous and Flip was down on the ground, head in the real world with his grown-up job and pessimistic realistic worldview. The two of you should mix about as well as oil and water, but for whatever reason, that wasn’t the case. Somehow you seemed to compliment each other.

You made his life exciting, you helped him explore his passions, You helped him get the full human experience. And he kept you from drifting off the edge. He shoved just enough routine in your life to keep you sane, and provided you a safe place you could run back too when “living the dream” fell through. You made life worth living and he made sure he was around to pick you up when you reached too far and got knocked down.

It really was all sunshine and rainbows between the two of you, except of course for the times when it wasn’t...

“You’re out of your damn mind.”

“Oh come on honey think about it! The world is so big! I could see so much of it!” You gushed, you felt a tinge of sadness that your excitement wasn’t being met by your boyfriend.

“No, absolutely not,” he stated firmly.

“I wasn’t asking” you reply, feeling your blood begin to boil at his outright dismissive attitude.

“Don’t care, you’re not living in a fucking van, forget it.”

“You’re not even hearing me out Flip!” you pushed.

“You’re right, I’m not.” his response was entirely unapologetic.

“I am a grown woman Phillip, I can do whatever I want,” you snap.

“You sure can honey, but if you think for a second I’m gonna let you lock yourself in a box parked out in the open, where anyone who knows how to pick a car lock can get their hands on you-” his anger was quickly rising to match yours.

“It’s perfectly safe! Rosemary does it,” you cut him off.

“Like fuck it is,” he scoffed.

“What are you going to physically stop me?”

“Yes.” He spit it out, letting out a short bitter laugh as if it was obvious.

“You can’t stop me.”

“I will if I have to dearest!” He spit, the word “dearest” came out dripping with sarcasm. He was mocking you.

“I’ll leave you!” It was too far, you knew it was the moment it left your mouth, but you were so pissed at him for telling you what to do that you couldn’t take it back. You glared at him, waiting for his response, but he held back, instead throwing his hands up and walking out of the room.

It would be nice to say that you and Flip were the kind of couple who never went to bed angry with each other, but that wasn’t true. You were at a stage in your relationship where you spent most weekends over at his place. He had a busy work week and he didn’t always get to see you during the weekdays so it was your way of making sure you always got to see each other. It was a time both of you always cherished and looked forward to, and you both felt guilty for letting your special time together go to waste.

But neither of you could just swallow your pride and spit out an apology so you fell asleep, backs towards each other. There was no bedtime kiss, no goodnight bids. For the first time in as long as you could remember, you fell asleep on a Saturday night outside of Flip’s arms, and you both had a long, miserable night because of it.

And if you thought the guilt you had felt the night before was bad, it was quickly outshone by the deep sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you woke up Sunday morning.

The other side of the bed was cold and empty. It only makes sense that your Sunday morning ritual of being showered in sweet soft little pecks and being tugged impossibly closer against a big warm chest, and maybe a round or two of lazy sweet sex if you hadn’t gotten enough of each other the night before was forgone too.

You trudged down the stairs, trying to decide what to do about your heavy conscience. Threatening a breakup to get him to shut up was a low move, and he probably knew you didn’t mean it but that didn’t make it any less cruel. Flip’s job showed him the worst in this world and you knew he’d do anything to keep you safe. You still wanted that van life though.

When you arrived downstairs you found the house was empty, a little note sat on the counter. There, in Flip’s handwriting, sat a short message that told you everything you need to know.

Ran out to grab something, be back soon. I love you.

He couldn’t be too made then, you figured to yourself as you turned around to face his kitchen. You wanted to worm your way back into his heart and make things right, and you had a pretty good idea of how to get there.

30 minutes later the smell of something sweet filled the kitchen as you pulled a rack of banana nut muffins out of the oven. It was a recipe you knew you were good at, and Flip was a sucker for them. You turned off the oven, and decided to let them sit in the tray for a bit before you pulled them out of the tin.

You could swear he had some kind of 5th sense for things like this, because no sooner than you had finished did Flip come in through the front door. He pulled it shut behind him, following his nose through the house where he was sure to find whatever you had been baking, and you of course. He stepped into the kitchen cautiously, searching for clues to pick up your mood like the detective he is.

“I made you muffins.” You spoke first, your voice coming out almost shy. Your tone tugged at his heartstrings. He’d just come in to apologise to you and here you were baking to make things up to him.

“I’m sorry,” he responds, moving through the room towards you pulling you into him, “I was a bossy asshole,” he added what he was sorry for (you taught him that.) His embrace is a welcome change to the past nearly 24 hours of distance between the two of you.

“I’m sorry I threatened you,” You mumbled against him, slipping your arms around his waist to hug him back. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know honey.” He shushed you, giving you a little squeeze.

“I got you something,” he added after a moment, making you pull back and look at him with curiosity.

“What is it?”

“Why don’t you come outside and see?” He reached behind you, pulling a still-very-much-hot muffin out of the tin and walking back to the front door, knowing you were close behind. Just before you reached the door he grabbed your wrist, pulling you in front of him and clamping his massive palm over the top of your face covering your eyes.

You were so excited you nearly squealed. You reached out blindly behind you and grasped him, holding onto him as you stumbled blindly onto the front porch. Suddenly his hand was pulled away, you blink quickly, readjusting to the bright sun that was now about halfway up in the sky.

When your eyes refocused the first thing they landed on was a shiny VW bus in your favorite color parked in the driveway. You gasped in surprise, hands flying up to cover your mouth.

“Phil you didn’t.”

“You can’t live in it,” he stated quickly, still behind you. “But it’s all yours.” He reached around you, waving the key in your face. “And I’ll follow you wherever you wanna go, baby.”

tags: @aloneandsleepless @maryforyou @emeraldsiren20

#this was self indulgent af #I want to live in a van SO BAD #my writing #zimmermansbrat #flip zimmerman fic #adam driver fluff #flip x reader #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip Zimmerman x you

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omg-just-peachy · 4 years

Text

three small words are so big when they’re for you

3.6k, stevetony, high school au, popular tony stark + smol steve

Tony is the most popular kid in school and he has a massive crush on smol, photography-loving Steve Rogers, who has no clue.

On AO3

***

“Steve! Hey,” Tony calls, almost breathlessly. He looks like an idiot, he’s sure of it, his hair's a mess and his backpack’s flopping off his shoulder and threatening to fall down his arm. He’d all but chased Steve Rogers across the courtyard and into the cafeteria, and for what, exactly? Just to say hi and moon at him because he was wearing the red shirt that makes his hair look extra blond and his blue eyes stand out?

Tony can hear Rhodey laughing at him from across the school and mentally shushes him.

In front of him, Steve blinks in surprise before shooting him a crooked little smile. “Hi,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose with a finger. God, the glasses. Tony is really and truly done for. He hefts his bag up onto his shoulder and looks at Steve some more. Say something, anything , he wills himself, but when he finally opens his mouth, Steve’s already talking.

“Um, I’m supposed to go meet my friend Bucky? But it was, uh, good to talk to you, Tony,” Steve finishes, then hurries away through the throng of students and over to his friends.

Tony groans, his disappointment mounting when he looks up to find not just Rhodey but Pepper, too, grinning at him from their usual table. He’d never hear the end of it now.

Steve wasn’t exactly unpopular at school. He was just kind of...quiet. He had his small group of friends, and he didn’t play sports or go to parties; he kept to himself. His smallish, perfectly built, glasses-wearing self.

Tony Stark, on the other hand, is probably the most well known kid in their class, possibly even the school, thanks to his famous last name, and yet he couldn’t get the attention of the one person he wanted it from most. It’s laughable, really, the plot of a teen romcom with a terrible soundtrack in the making.

Which is why, when he bumps into Steve outside the school a week later, Tony is more than a little surprised.

“Hi,” Tony says, because when it comes to Steve, he’s good at this part, and this part only.

“Tony, hey,” Steve says, his voice is soft but not entirely shy, and he smiles at Tony like he always does, because more than anything else, Steve Rogers is nice . It makes Tony’s palms sweat.

“Waiting for someone?” Tony manages to say. He knows Steve usually goes home with Bucky and Natasha and Sam, all of them piling into Bucky’s car like an exclusive club Tony can only dream of worming his way into.

“If the late bus counts as someone ,” Steve replies, rolling his eyes. “Bucky left early today and my phone was off so I didn’t realize until after the newspaper meeting, so...” He shrugs his slim shoulders, looking at Tony and then down at his shoes, his long eyelashes skimming his cheek, and for once, Tony’s mouth does its job.

“I can give you a ride home. If you want. I mean, unless you like the bus, then...” He’s babbling, but it’s better than silence, right?

Steve does this adorable blinking thing, like he’s sizing Tony up and weighing his options, and then nods. “If you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Tony insists. “You’ll just have to tell me where I’m going. I’m parked over there...” Tony points, and Steve follows him to his car, waiting as Tony unlocks it and throws their bags into the backseat.

“So,” Tony says, once they’re out of the school parking lot and on the road. “You work on the newspaper?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he says, “I mostly do the photography for it, but I’ve written some articles, too.”

“Oh,” Tony says, then, a beat later. “That’s really cool.” And it sounds almost sarcastic even to his own ears, but he really means it. Steve could tell him just about anything and he’d think it was cool. God, he’s the worst at this.

Steve looks at him. Tony can feel his gaze from the passenger seat, like he’s trying to decide if Tony was making fun of him. He must decide that he isn’t because he continues talking. “Yeah, it’s fun. I only joined because Natasha wanted company at first, but... I really like it. Oh, um, make a right up there on Lakeshore.”

Tony turns. “I ended up on the football team for that reason, so I get it,” he says, smiling wryly. “Rhodey just wanted to see what it was all about. At least, that’s what he told me. Three years later and here we still are. I love it, though,” he adds.

“You guys are having a good season,” Steve says, and Tony’s stomach flips. Had Steve been to any of the games? Seen him play? The idea would have been ludicrous up until a few minutes ago, but it would make sense for the photographer to go and take photos, if nothing else. Tony wills his brain to calm down, and makes a left when Steve tells him to.

“We are. Knock on wood,” Tony says.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, just the radio playing softly between them, and Steve telling Tony when to turn. It’s not an uncomfortable quiet, though, Tony realizes. It’s… nice .

“This is me,” Steve points, all too soon, at a house on the right side of the street, small and unassuming but nice. “Thanks for giving me a ride. I really didn’t feel like waiting in the cold.” Steve gives Tony another one of his small half-smiles before hopping out of the car with a little wave.

“See you tomorrow,” Tony says, but Steve is already halfway up his driveway.

“He doesn’t know I exist,” Tony moans a few days later. He and Rhodey had just passed Steve in the hallway, and Steve had smiled and given him a wave, nudging his glasses up his nose like always, before disappearing into the crowd of students.

“He was in your car last week. He literally just said hi! What more do you want from him? To know by osmosis that you’ve been half in love with him since freshman year?” Rhodey asks, exasperated.

“I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m just being nice. I mean I am being nice, but it’s more selfish than anything, because he’s so… Steve. Rhodey, because he does that blinking thing? You know? Like he’s adorably confused and taking it all in, and… His eyes look so big with the glasses...”

Rhodey shakes his head, laughing. “Believe it or not, I don’t spend the day cataloging the movements of Steve Rogers.”

“You laugh,” Tony says testily. “But you and Pepper have been joined at the hip for two years now. Remember when you were in my shoes?”

“That’s different.”

Tony lifts an eyebrow. “Help me, Rhodeybear, my best friend in the world, light of my life. Please .”

Rhodey sighs. “I have English with Barnes,” he says.

Tony stomps a foot. “What! Why didn’t I know this!?”

Rhodey ignores him and continues. “Barnes is in my English class next period. I can try and talk to him, see if he knows anything about what Steve’s thinking.”

“I love you to the moon and back,” Tony says, throwing his arms around his friend. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than that,” Rhodey says, shaking him off. “Please, save it for Steve.”

“One can only hope!”

The next time Tony sees Steve, it’s right before a football game, and he very nearly crashes into him. Steve’s hair is windblown, and he has the school camera on a strap around his neck, ready and waiting for the perfect shot. He looks perfect in a Shield High t-shirt and dark jeans, complete with a cardigan to keep him warm against the cool fall afternoon. He cannot possibly not know how good he looks like this.

“Oh,” Steve says, blinking up at Tony and smiling. “Hey, sorry about that.”

“My fault, I was on another planet,” Tony says. Thinking about you , he doesn’t add. “Don’t be sorry.” His heart is racing though, between the high stakes of the game, and his new found knowledge that Steve thinks Tony is, for the most part, just humoring him with his attempts at friendship. In the end, Rhodey’s conversation with Bucky Barnes had made Tony feel about ten times worse about his prospects of ever being more than just casual friends with Steve.

Steve shuffles his feet. “Um,” he says, “I should probably get out there...” he gestures to his camera and then at the field. “And you, too, right?”

Tony nods vigorously. “Right. Yes. Football and newspapers. Try and get my good side, okay?” he jokes, winking before he can stop himself. Winking , god.

Steve laughs, though, a beautiful, musical sound if Tony’s ever heard one, and promises to do his best.

They go on this way, Tony doing his best to be smooth and show Steve he isn’t just humoring him by any means, and always coming up short. He does more babbling around Steve Rogers than he’s ever done in his life, even with his friends, even when he gets to talking about football plays, or robotics labs, or dark matter.

It’s a disaster.

By the time Thanksgiving week rolls around, Tony’s exhausted. The football season is coming to an end, but college application season is in full swing, and he really, really doesn't want to think about that right now. All Tony wants to do is go home and work on his latest project, a small robot he’s programmed to clean up around his room. The little guy apparently hates socks though, because he always leaves them on the floor, even when everything else is spotless. Tony’s lost in thought about possible bug fixes when

he finds himself face to face with Steve on his way out the door at the end of the day.

Impossibly, Steve looks more rundown than Tony feels.

Steve makes a valiant effort to look pleased to see him, but Tony can tell something’s just… off about him. He’s pale, more pale than usual, even, his perfect Irish complexion drawn and tired looking, and his eyes are shadowed and red-rimmed, going perfectly with the pink of his nose.

Tony’s heart gives an actual pang looking at him. “Oh, hi, Steve. You look um…”

Steve’s eyes roll so hard it’s actually impressive. “I know,” he snaps. Then he sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he apologizes almost immediately and his voice is huskier than usual, like it’s an effort to speak, and Tony shrugs.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean it like… I mean. You always look good ? But you just look less...like yourself. I mean, you just… you look tired,” Tony finishes, his face warming.

Steve gives a wan smile. “I think there was something nice in there,” he says, rubbing at his face.

“There definitely was,” Tony promises. “Do you...need a ride or something? I can drive you home, it’s no problem.”

Steve’s relief is palpable. “That would be great, actually,” he says.

“Great, yeah, absolutely. I’m over here again. I think I remember the way to your house but let me know if I lead us astray,” Tony says with a smile.

Steve’s quiet on the drive home, though, his eyes almost drooping shut a few times once the heat kicks in, and it’s all Tony can do not to stare at him. Even like this, pale and knocked out by whatever season cold plagued high school this time of year, Steve looks....pretty much perfect.

By the time Tony parks his car outside Steve’s house, he’s just about asleep in the passenger seat, his glasses sliding precariously down his nose. Tony lays a careful hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Steve… we’re here,” he says quietly. The last thing he wants is to scare him, or worse, embarrass him.

Steve blinks his eyes open, rubbing at his face in confusion before looking apologetically at Tony. “I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that. God, it’s like a ten minute drive,” he says, shaking his head. “I guess I was more tired than I thought,” he says quietly. He sounds vaguely congested, his voice low and thick and tired enough that Tony wonders how he ended up here, wanting to do grown up things like make soup and offer to run to the pharmacy, just because it’s Steve.

It’s unfair, really, how sweet and vulnerable he looks sitting there like that. Tony’s overwhelmed with the urge to hug him, walk him to his door… something. Instead though, he squeezes Steve’s shoulder lightly before letting go.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony says. “I could use a nap myself,” he adds, anything to make Steve relax.

Steve nods. “Thanks again.”

“Of course. I hope you feel better,” Tony tells him, sincerely. “No one should be sick for Thanksgiving.”

“It’s true, but this happens every year,” Steve admits. “Anyway, it’s not so bad. My mom makes a ton of food, and it’s usually just us and my grandparents and occasionally Bucky and his mom, so,” he trails off, looking over at his house and smiling a little, softly.

“Sounds nice,” Tony tells him, honestly. Far nicer than his own jam-packed holidays, which are more for appearances than anything else.

“Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?”

Tony hesitates. “Family stuff, lots of questions about the future,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s a whole ordeal honestly.”

Steve winces. “Yikes.”

Tony smiles. “Exactly.”

By the time Steve grabs his backpack and phone and thanks Tony for the millionth time for driving him home, it feels like something might have shifted between them. At least, it feels that way to Tony, like Steve might actually consider him a friend now.

A guy could dream.

By the time they go back to school the following Monday, Tony is mostly recovered from the grand inquisition that occurred over Thanksgiving break, and Steve, from the looks of it, has recovered from his cold. When Tony passes him by his locker early Monday morning, he can’t help but flash him a wide smile.

“You’re looking better,” Tony says before he can think twice. His smile only grows when Steve rolls his eyes and brushes their shoulder together as he closes his locker.

“Yeah, much, thanks for noticing,” Steve says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“I always notice you,” Tony says, and it’s far too earnest for this hour of the morning, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, his face turns a little pink, and he falls into step with Tony like it’s something they do every day, walking each other to class. Tony’s so taken aback by this that he almost walks right by his first period class. Fury would love that, but Tony doesn’t have the patience for Principal Coulson’s office today, so he stops, reluctantly.

“This is me,” Tony says, jerking his head towards the door. “Maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, nudging his glasses up, “talk to you later.” And just like that, with that stupid half smile, Steve sets off down the hallway.

“Mr. Stark,” Mr. Fury says behind him, making him jump a foot. “Are you going to stand here smiling into the ether, or will you be joining us today?”

Tony blinks himself back to reality and joins them.

Tony finds himself driving Steve home most afternoons now. And though he wonders what happened to Steve driving with Bucky and Sam, he’s not curious enough to bring it up and ruin whatever this new dynamic is. Not now, when Steve meets Tony at his locker, and is starting to get to know Rhodey and Pepper, even if he is on the quieter side when they’re all together. Now when he has Steve beside him in the passenger seat, plugging in his phone while they drive, sharing his favorite songs with Tony and asking what he likes in return, a give and take Tony looks forward to all day.

It’s Rhodey who points out the change in Steve, says it out loud and puts it into the universe so that Tony has to acknowledge it.

“He likes you,” Rhodey says with confidence. “I’m telling you, this is his way of making a move.”

Making a move? Steve? Tony hadn’t wanted to think about it, didn’t want to jinx whatever was going on between them, if he’s being honest with himself, but Steve had been different ever since Thanksgiving. He’d come back after break still on the quiet side, but more… chatty, almost flirty with Tony in a way that made Tony feel as if a swarm of bees had taken up residence inside him.

“No way,” Tony says, even though deep down he wants to believe him.

“Come on , you’re not this oblivious,” Rhodey sighs. “You’ve been into him for months, and now he’s showing interest, what’s the problem?”

And it’s not a problem, not exactly, it’s just that Steve Rogers is unlike anyone else in Tony’s life. Kind and funny and gorgeous and he managed to make Tony feel more like himself than almost any of his friends, aside from Rhodey, of course. As much as Tony had flirted and pined and thought about Steve, now that there was the minute possibility of returned interest… he’s scared .

“Not a problem,” Tony says. “It’s good. Peachy.” And it was. Or, it would be, as soon as Tony came up with a plan.

Shield High has a winter formal every year, a kind of send off for the year right before winter break. Tony usually goes because his friends go, but he’d never actually asked anyone to go. But it’s coming up in two weeks, and he’s decided it’s the perfect chance to finally really show Steve how he feels. He’ll ask him to the formal and if he says yes, well then, Tony will know he feels the same way, and if he says no , then… Tony hasn’t really thought about that possibility, because it usually ended in an anxiety spiral that he didn’t have time for.

Steve would say yes, right? Right?

“Yes , Tony, god, stop asking me!” Rhodey says, meaning Tony had been thinking out loud again .

“Sorry, sorry, I just hope—”

“Hope I’ll be on time after class?” Steve asks, appearing at Tony’s side. The day’s over, and Steve is smiling at Tony from beside his locker door, and Rhodey smirks, walking backwards away from them.

“Yep!” He calls, “Exactly that, Rogers!”

“Ignore him, he’s the worst,” Tony huffs, grabbing his jacket. “Ready?” He looks at Steve’s adorably confused face, the winkle between that he gets between his eyebrows appearing, and Tony is, as ever, tempted to touch a finger to it and brush it away.

“So,” Steve says, sliding into the car beside Tony. “What was Rhodey talking about earlier? It looked like you guys were fighting or something.”

Tony hadn’t started the car yet, and now he wishes he had. It’s too quiet, with the reality of what he’s about to do hanging between them. His stomach gives a flip. Now’s as good a time as any, right? He looks at Steve, and his blue eyes, and his blond hair flopping over his forehead, and…

“Not fighting, exactly,” Tony starts, sucking in a breath. “I just… I was wondering. I mean, I know you didn’t necessarily trust me for a while there? But I think we’ve gotten past that? It seems like it anyway, since here you are, in my car after school. Anyway. Rhodey thinks I should ask you to winter formal and I kind of agree with him and I’m actually terrified you’ll say no since you’re so much—”

Tony would have kept going, talking himself into a circle while Steve smiled and looked at him and pushed his glasses up his nose, but instead, Steve Rogers had leaned over and cut him off with a kiss. Stolen the words right from his mouth and made the move Tony had been too nervous to make for months.

Steve Rogers.

He’s smiling into the kiss, though it takes Tony some time to realize it, he’s so distracted by how unfairly soft Steve’s mouth is, how his hand is drifting up and up into Tony’s hair, threading through the strands and pulling him in like he just can’t get close enough.

Tony’s pretty sure he’ll never be close enough to Steve.

He can’t say who pulls away first. Part of Tony thinks it might have been him, because he really cannot keep his mouth shut in the presence of this perfect guy, apparently. He stares at Steve, disbelieving, until Steve smiles at him, and Tony’s heart flips.

“Yes,” Steve says simply. Like it’s easy . “And I didn’t not trust you, by the way. I just… had to be sure you weren’t just… I don’t know. Being nice because I’m the small kid no one picks in gym or something. They pick me sometimes, for what it’s worth. I’m fast and small, so.” He smirks, and it’s the most perfect thing Tony’s ever seen, probably.

“Well I pick you for whatever that’s worth,” Tony manages to say. “God, the number of times I basically chased you across the courtyard just to say hi…” He trails off, smiling like he might never stop.

“I did notice that.” Steve looks ridiculously pleased by the information, Tony can’t help but notice. His cheeks heat.

“What else did you notice?”

“Lots of things,” Steve says, “That’s what I do, you know, the whole photography thing. I notice things.” His voice is teasing now, and Tony wants to know everything Steve’s noticed, every detail about these last few months getting to know each other, becoming friends.

“Like?”

But Steve’s looking at Tony’s lips, and giving him that ridiculous little smile, so when he just shakes his head and pulls Tony back in for another kiss, well, Tony can wait to find out.

#stevetony #stony #super husbands #steve/tony #high school au #fluff #my fic

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slytherflynn · 4 years

Text

Old and New | Pt I

Blaise Zabini x muggle!reader

word count: 1971

summary: y/n is new to France on a study abroad trip. Blaise is visiting France post-Hogwarts. rags to riches story of an unfortunate muggle falling for a complicated, ridiculously wealthy person who just so happens to also be a powerful Wizard.

a/n: this started with an idea, became a moodboard, then became an entire fleshed out fic! I thought it would be short but my brain had other ideas. enjoy! note: I did write this from my personal perspective in life. as a result it is not very inclusive. I plan to change that with my next fics, I’ve just been having a really hard time lately and have been writing a lot of comfort fics and/or self-inserts to escape from irl bc irl is rly shitty for me rn

It’s a brand-new start, in a brand-new apartment, in a brand-new city, in a brand-new country... an ocean away from home. I can bring Tacoma to France, right? At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. Study abroad is fucking... scary. I kinda regret it. It’s a good opportunity and for someone who doesn’t travel, it should be a fun experience. But I’m currently having an anxiety attack over taking out the garbage, so I’m not sure my positive self-talk is working.

I look out the window of my top floor apartment, wait until someone finally finishes walking down the stairs, and run out my door - I nearly trip about five times going down the spiral of death, my arms feel like jelly thanks to perpetually pushing my garbage deeper in to avoid this trip, and I swing with all my might to hurl my garbage bag into the trash compacting dumpster - only it hits the bottom lip and falls to the ground, splitting open.

“Great!” I say, sarcastically, “First they send my luggage to the wrong location, then they try to say my passport isn’t valid because my apartment was a temporary address, then I’m greeted with a fridge full of rotting food and no power, then I’m bitten up by fleas and now - I just- fuck. Why can’t I just- do anything- right-“ I cut myself off when I hear a screen door slide and blink a couple times to erase the threat of tears that had been creeping up on me while I ranted.

When I look up, I see a tall, dark-skinned guy about my age - handsome. He’s wearing a suit, and expensive jewelry. Combine that with the fact he’s living in the apartment building next to me, which is worth more than my life just for one month of rent, and I put together that he’s probably rich beyond belief. I quickly look away, not wanting to stare. I silently pick up my garbage, piece by piece. As I work, I feel eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. I ignore it. It continues, and I still ignore it as I finally shove my ripped garbage bag in the compactor and slam the door shut. I hear a slight jump up above, and chuckle to myself.

I zoom back up the stairs and almost make it to the top, but I trip 5 stairs away from my door - and fall, hard. Body laid out flat hard. Cheek scraped and stinging from the metal grating on the stairs, hard. Lost the goddamned slide that caught on the stair, and can see it gradually falling, bouncing and rolling down the stairs, hard. I lift my head and see blood on the stair. I feel it running down my face. All I can think is that this really fucking hurts. The tears come, a combination of pain and frustration, and I pick myself up and stumble my way into my apartment, completely forgetting about the attractive rich boy who just watched me be a danger and inconvenience to myself.

I rush to the kitchen and grab a roll of paper towels, and run to the bathroom, I see the markings in the mirror and can tell it will leave a sizeable scar. Do I need stitches? I don’t know. Anyway, I start dabbing at everything and blood is still oozing out of every nook and cranny, to my displeasure. I’m about to start bandaging my face when I hear a knock on my door. “Fucking Christ!” I mutter to myself as I slap a wad of paper towels on my face and sulkily go to fling open my door.

I’m not sure who I’m expecting, but to see the same rich guy on my doorstep, slide in hand, probably wasn’t it. “Hey, um, I saw what happened, and I thought you might want your shoe back.” His accent sounds very British - I was expecting it to sound more like a snooty Frenchman’s.

“Oh. Um. Thanks.” I say flatly.

As my muscles twitch to begin closing the door, he says, “Would you like some help cleaning that up? I have certifications to give medical aid... and stitches. My name’s Blaise, by the way.”

Doctor, maybe? Probably. “Sure,” I say, opening the door wider and standing back so the blood doesn’t drip on his suit. “I’m y/n.”

A few minutes later we’re in my bathroom, me sitting on the toilet, him sitting on the bathtub as he helps me fix my face. “So, Mademoiselle y/n,” He asks, “Do you find yourself in these predicaments very often?”

“Which one? Poverty, flea bitten, or bloody?” I say.

“I suppose whichever you’d like to think I was referring to.”

“Well, in *that* case - I’m usually caught unawares in all kinds of predicaments - though I’d say self-injury due to clumsiness is an uncommon one. And do you usually find yourself in predicaments requiring you to treat someone’s wounds?”

“I used to, though now it’s only on the occasion.”

“Sounds like an improvement,” I note. “I won’t guarantee it, but I think I’ll get the hang of walking up the stairs soon enough, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily mind it if I did worry about you once or twice more. Why were you running? It seemed like you wanted to get away from something. Does your garbage compactor smell that disturbing?”

“It doesn’t smell great,” I admit, “But truth be told, I’m not a fan of human interaction. It’s scary. Especially when everything is new to me.”

“How long have you been In France?”

“A few days, just enough to get myself physically settled.”

“I see. And you are from America?”

“Mhm. Let me guess, my accent gave it away.”

“And the slang, I’ve yet to hear someone from France use certain terms that you seem to favor.”

“Oh, most of my slang is specific to my city, not just my country.”

“Your city?”

“Yea, Tacoma. It’s near Seattle, if you know where that is. Tacoma’s better, though.”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there. My mother is a fashion designer, but she only travels where there’s inspiration or a business deal.” So that’s how he gets the expensive clothes. The rest of the money too, probably.

“Must be nice, having a handmade closet.” I muse. “Not that I care for having any more clothes than I brought. They’re pretty reliable, if I do say so myself.”

He laughs. “Yes, well, if the blood stains don’t come out of your jumpsuit you might need a new one. They shouldn’t be too difficult to remove, though.”

“Yea, I’ll just dump a bucket of Oxi-Clean on it and call it a day. That is, if any stores nearby have it.” I frown, realizing I have no clue if France carries any of the products I usually get. This is gonna suck. Hopefully the internet has some answers so I don’t have to ask anyone for help.

“Why don’t I take your jumpsuit back with me? Save you the trip. Believe it or not, I used to have chronic nosebleeds, so I know a thing or two about stain removal.” Blaise offers.

I smile, only just. “Well, if you insist. But I love this jumpsuit practically more than myself, so I expect it back right away!”

He returns the smile. “A fan of fashion? You ought to meet my mother.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure your mom would despise me - I only own seven jumpsuits and some athleisure for going on runs.” I pause, then tack on: “Oh, and some fuzzy pajamas for when I’m sick.”

Blaise cocks a brow at me. “And when you’re not sick?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I grin mischievously.

A wave of recognition graces his eyes, and he very quickly looks away, I assume for being flustered.

“You Americans, always so scandalous.” He tsks in mock scorn.

“That’s what we’re known for, is it not?” I say cheekily, “Beer, boobs and gun barrels. And all the other problems that come with that, but that’s a can of worms I am not looking to open today.”

He ties off his handiwork, and says, “It looks like my job is finished, other than stealing your jumpsuit off your back to fix it. I can wait in the other room, if you’d like?”

“Um, yea, that works. Lemme just, grab my next jumpsuit. Gonna have to do laundry early, I suppose-“

“I can wash your jumpsuit for you. I’m pretty good at reading labels, if I do say so myself.” He jokes.

“Oh?” I say, “Then you must be a real genius! Who taught you, Einstein?”

“No, but it was another white-haired, eccentric man, so you’re not that far off.”

“When all teachers are like that it’s kind of impossible not to hit relatively close to the mark.” I remark, then change clothes as quickly as I can, tossing the dirty outfit into a trusty plastic bag and tying it shut.

When I walk out to the living room, Blaise is toying with one of my sculptures. He’s definitely been meandering and lurking around. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, at which he jumps. “You’re rather skittish, Blaise.”

“And you’re rather quiet on your feet, y/n.” He observes. “But yes, I quite like your eclectic style. If only you had an apartment that let your customization shine. Something more minimalist.”

“Yes, well, it’s something I’ll forever dream of and likely never accomplish. I don’t suspect I’m going to be someone leaving the income level I was born into.” I say, just a little bit cynical.

“And why is that?” He asks.

“Because most people don’t, and the ones who do are the ones who make money. My career isn’t going to make me money.” I reply.

“So why did you pick it?”

I sigh. “Because somebody has to care about the people like me. The politicians don’t, the middle class don’t, and the rich are hell bent on keeping us there so they can have factory workers and have people going straight to prison after they graduate because we’re all desperate and miserable.”

He frowns. “That’s terrible.”

“It’s reality. And I don’t want to be like the people who get rich and stop caring because all they see is the wage difference and pretend it’s justified so they don’t have to feel complicit in the system.” I look him in the eye, my face grim. “Not all luck is by chance. Most of it is by design.”

He nods. “I understand, in a way.”

“Everyone does.” I say. “But understanding in a way and caring enough to do something about it are two different things.” I look away from him when I see his posture change. “I’m not trying to be rude, but it’s impossible not to notice the wealth gap between us when you’re wearing designer clothes and living in what looks like a mansion and I’m living in a building made in like 1900 with no elevator. It’s just the way things are, though.”

“I know.” He says quietly, thoughtfully. “I’d better get going. Your clothes?” He reaches out tentatively for the bag I’m still holding.

“Oh. Right.” I say, handing it to him. Our fingers brush against each other slightly, and it sends chills down my spine. He heads to the door while I’m rooted to the spot, collecting myself.

“I look forward to seeing you again, y/n.” He nods, meeting my eyes with a rather changed expression.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” I ask, not quite sure which answer I’m expecting.

He smiles, only just. “As soon as I am able.” Seconds later, he’s out the door, and I’m alone in my dingy ass apartment. How in the fuck did any of that just happen?

#Blaise Zabini #muggle!reader #blaise x reader #slytherin #hogwarts #lady zabini #harry potter #hp #imagine #fanfic #slytherflynn #part 1

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