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agents-shared-space · 18 days ago

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Finding Declan

(This takes place around 2 - 2.5 years after S2/OE.)

“Hey Marie, Ceph’s been kinda mopey lately,” Callie whispered, a worried look on her face. “He’s done nothing more than lay around the outkeep these past couple days.” Marie let out a small, sad sigh. Her face changed from her regular neutral expression to one of sadness. She motioned for Callie to follow her so Ceph wouldn’t hear them. Checking to make sure that he wouldn’t move anytime soon, Marie turned her attention back to Callie.

“Ceph recently had his heart broken,” Marie told her, a few tears running down her cheeks. She hated seeing her favorite agent like this. “He saw Jojo in bed with someone else.”

Upon hearing this, Callie's face was adorned with a look of anger. Her body shook, her hands balled into fists, and growls could be heard. Marie was a bit shocked at her reaction. While she knew that Callie saw Ceph as something of a younger brother. Marie didn’t think she’d have this sort of reaction to hearing the news.

“WHA-!” Callie’s loud, shrill cry was cut short by Marie quickly covering her mouth.

“Keep your voice down,” Marie said through gritted teeth. Her brows furrowed. I don’t want Ceph to hear you.”

“What!” Callie whisper-yelled once Marie’s hand was removed. “Why would she do something like that?”

“Apparently she claimed that Ceph wasn’t ‘fulfilling her needs.’” Marie said with air quotes. She let out a sigh and sat on the ground.

“So she was a hussy then.” Marie just nodded to that. “At the very least, Ceph’s parents raised him right, waiting for marriage and whatnot. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try and cheer him up. But, I’m not sure how exactly to do that.” Marie’s voice started to get a tone of annoyance. “Aside from his agent work, schooling, and when he was with his now ex… I don’t know what I can do to help.”

“Oh! Maybe the Agent 4 Facto-”

“That’s outdated now. A lot has happened in the past two years.”

“Yeah, a lot has happened.” Callie had a slight smile on her face as she played with the silver band around her arm. “Oh, that reminds me. It’s date night. Samuel is taking me out to eat. Not sure where, but it’ll be good regardless.”

“You two have fun.” Marie stood up. “I’ll probably take him on a walk or something. I’ll see you later.”

Marie watched as Callie left through the kettle. Her resolve strengthened as she made her way over to Ceph. She was determined to make him feel better for both his and their sakes. It broke her heart to see her favorite agent in such a condition. Even if it didn’t do much, at least a walk would be doing something. Reaching Ceph, she crouched down and gently nudged him.

“Ceph, I hate seeing you like this.” She saw Ceph slowly turn his head towards her, his face red from crying. “C’mon let’s go on a walk. Some fresh air will help you some.”

__________

The two of them had been walking in silence for a while. Marie had her mask on to hide from the general public. Those who passed by the two assumed they were on a date or something. Marie wasn’t sure how exactly to feel about the (seemingly) knowing looks they were getting. While she did admit that Ceph was a pretty handsome man, she wasn’t sure if she would be open to the idea of dating him.

But she knew he wouldn’t be ready for a relationship so soon after heartbreak. She’d just be content with cheering him up and just being there for him. The two of them had been out for a while, and it was starting to get dark now. Marie was about to open her mouth when their stomachs grumbled.

“Ah. I guess it's close to dinner time.” Marie pulled out her phone to look up the nearest restaurant. As she was looking, a shrill cry pierced the air, startling them both. The two of them turned their heads trying to locate the sound.

The cry pierced the air again. Without thinking, the two of them made their way over to it. What they found disturbed them to their core. It was Octolings, or they appeared to be octolings. But they were different. They were covered with what looked to be fur, much like both Judds. One of them had something wriggling in their mouth.

“Oh my squid!” Marie exclaimed as one of the furry Octolings rushed the other one and smashed into it. Causing it to drop what it was holding, only for it to be caught in the mouth of the other one.

“I-is that a baby!?” Exclaimed Ceph as he ran forward without thinking. Several growls were heard as one of the Octolings jumped at him. His years of training allowed him to slide underneath the assailant, causing them to miss him and crash into some cans.

Ceph wasn't the only one that was attacked. Marie had one jump at her, but she simply blocked it with her umbrella. The covering was durable enough to where it wouldn't break unless really damaged. It was a custom-made umbrella she had. Many times fans of other groups would attempt to either prank or sabotage the Squid Sisters by throwing ink at them.

She watched at the fury Octoling bounced off the umbrella and growled louder at her. She wasn't going to let it pounce at her again. While she wasn't as good at close-quarters combat as Callie, she still could hold her own.

Before the furry Octoling could pounce again, she ran up to it and gave it a swift kick in the ribs. She expected there to be a good amount of give, but there was resistance. Resistance followed by a loud cracking sound. The furry Octaian let out a huge cry of pain, specks of red flew out its mouth as Marie could just stare in silence.

Just what had happened to these Octolings? Everything about them screamed abnormal, from the fur to the resistance she felt to the red stuff that came out. Something was wrong. This wasn't like the Sanitized Octarians that Caroline fought; those, at least, acted somewhat like their normal selves.

“C'mon Marie. I got them!” Ceph exclaimed, knocking her out of her stupor. She felt him grab her hand and pull her away. Looking back shocked her. Several of the furry Octarians were lying on the ground. Parts of their beaks scattered around them with the red liquid pouring out of them.

__________

When the two of them arrived at the hospital, they were lucky. There wasn't much of a wait. When the receptionist saw the damage, she immediately called for NICU. The baby was carefully taken from Cephs hands and placed in specially designed ink for babies.

As the two of them waited in the reception room, they were approached by an officer. They were asked what they'd been doing before, how they came across the baby, and what happened afterward. The two of them gave the officer as much information as they knew.

“I wonder if this is related to the missing persons cases” They heard the cop mutter. The two of them stayed quiet as they were sure they weren't supposed to have heard that. The officer nodded their head and left the two of them.

Their stomachs grumbled. In all that had happened, they'd forgotten to eat. There were some vending machines with snacks and drinks in them that could pass the time. They elected to use those.

__________

Several hours had passed since they first came in. Ceph had fallen asleep and had fallen on Marie's shoulder. She didn't mind it as Callie also liked to sleep on her shoulder. However this was a bit different.

A scent hit her nose, it was Ceph. During all that excitement he had sweated a bit, she hadn't noticed due to all the commotion that happened. But now that things had been calm for a while, she was starting to notice it. She didn't think it was a bad smell, in fact, she thought Ceph smelled pretty good.

‘Is this why Callie never complains about Samuel?’ Went through Marie's head as she watched Ceph's chest slowly rise up and down. ‘Does she think that he smells good?’

Her thoughts were broken as a nurse came through the doors and called for them. Marie gently woke Ceph up and told him they could see the baby now. Ceph got up and stretched as the two of them followed the nurse deeper into the hospital. The three of them walked in silence as they were led to the NICU, inside they were greeted by the sounds of machines when Marie saw it.

“An Inktoling!” Marie's hands shot up and covered her already-masked covered mouth in shock. Inktolings weren't unheard of in their society, but they were rare enough that if you came across one it was an amazing occurrence.

Their rarity was in part due to how Inkling and Octarian biology interacted. They were similar enough to be able to create offspring. But different enough to where such occurrences were rare. Rage boiled up in her as the pieces were fitting together.

“How… how can someone just abandon their baby” Ceph whispered yelled. He had connected the dots as well. While what the mother did to the baby was technically legal, it still was heavily frowned upon.

“Well we can't exactly bring them back to his parents now can we?” Marie watched as the baby was sleeping. “Who knows what'll happen to him then”

“Yeah. We were lucky to have been there the first time. Who knows if we'll be that lucky again”

“And our adoption system isn't the best.” Marie let out a sigh as she continued to watch the baby. “It could be years before he's adopted. If he even is.”

The two of them sat in silence for several minutes, lost as to what to do. Ceph had an idea, but it was not the best.

“Why don't you take him in?” Ceph suggested, much to Marie's shock. “Just think about it. He won't go back to whoever abandoned him, and he won't be stuck in the adoption system.”

“Hmmm,” What Ceph said did make sense. Thanks to the money she earned as an idol, she would have more than enough to take care of him. “I mean I guess. I will have to use artificial ink, even if it's not as good as natural breast ink”

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #agent 4 #callie cuttlefish #marie cuttlefish #new squidbeak splatoon

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theashen-fox · 2 years ago

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Main!/RWBY! Verse-Ash’s Team

The Team as a Whole-“Tricksters” is among the more polite things to call this little band. They consist of outcasts, mischief-makers, ne'er-do-wells, and more often than not, all of the above. How did these people end up in Beacon? Well, same way anyone does: airship. Jokes aside, they either attended different Combat Schools or otherwise proved themselves worthy of joining the Academy. During initiation, they were able to show that they were willing to be…unconventional in the way of combat, using tricks to defeat their enemies instead of outright charging into battle. While some would deem this cowardly, they have few, if any, traces of fear in the face of fighting. Their methods, while questionable, produce good results. They were given the name HALN (Harlequin) due to their mischievous tendencies and unpredictability. As it stands, they are not overly popular at Beacon, but any student who knows them knows not to cross them, lest they be a victim of one of their pranks, which are never lethal or physically painful but are always humiliating. It should be noted, however, that despite their mischief, you can generally count on them to do the right thing. Sure, they may cause some damage along the way, but in the end, they’ll beat the bad guys, save as many people as they can, and get out before anyone changes their minds. “Chaotic Good with Chaotic Neutral Leanings” would be a good way to describe their morality. One way or another, though, Ash is the saner one of the bunch, often covering for any antics they get up to.

Harlequin Alichino

Age-18-23

Motif-The harlequin/jester

Appearance-Harlequin is dressed in rather flamboyant attire, including a traditional jester outfit, complete with a white “comedian” mask. (Think of the Harlequin costume from Assassin’s Creed Brotherhood.) Behind the mask, he has short brown hair, bright green eyes, and is quite tall and thin, which allows him to be quicker and more agile than the average person.

Personality-Harlequin has a reputation for being theatrical, often using dramatic gestures and sophisticated language for someone his age. Case in point, he tends to treat a battlefield as a stage, his allies as actors, and himself as the director. As such, he tends to hang back, only intervening when things get out of hand and his allies are in dangers that he knows they can’t escape from, just as how a director would do if there was a dispute between actors. Despite this, he is by no means a coward. He is simply a pragmatist. He knows that being the leader means that he must be the one who determines what strategies to take against the enemy, and that if he dies, the team may very well fall apart. Being well-versed in theatrical matters, he is not half bad at acting himself. For example, if an enemy approaches him directly, he will begin whimpering and groveling before them, begging for mercy, before stabbing them to death or neutralizing them in some other way as they begin to come closer to either finish him off or boast.

Abilities: Knife-fighting, explosives, agility, strategic planning, acting.

Semblance-Weave

Harlequin is capable of manipulating the fabric of his own clothing or someone else’s. The applications of this include controlling a person’s movements, choking them, or simply causing discomfort. The catch is that for it to work, the clothing has to be made of natural materials, like wool or cotton. The more natural the cloth, the more control he has.

Name-Lucius Promethea

Age-19-25

Gender-Male

Color-Golden

Motif-Prometheus

Semblance-None; he is instead a technological genius, capable of hacking and gaining control of nearly any kind of advanced machinery.

Appearance-Lucius is a muscular, handsome young man with short yellow hair, blue eyes, and wearing a casual white suit. He constantly carries about an expression of scorn and arrogance.

Personality-More often than not, Lucius can be quite prideful, boasting about how he is “destined” to lead the world into a new age. However, his pride doesn’t fully blind him to reality. He knows that there are things that he cannot do, heights he cannot reach, opponents he cannot beat. So he resolves to improve himself so that he can conquer these challenges. This is what motivates him to want to become a Huntsman: to be able to push himself past limits he never even knew existed. In addition, his arrogance does not prevent him from genuinely wanting to protect the innocent, although it does prevent him from being polite or modest when doing so.

Weapon-A swarm of drones and turrets, and failing those, his own two fists, feet and numerous high-end firearms. .

(I just want to say that yes, the following name does follow the Color Rule. Why? It’s associated with Dionysus, which makes you think of wine, which is red. Voila.)

Name-Nysus Kokinos

Gender-Male

Motif-Dionysus

Color-Red

Race-Human

Age-19-22

Appearance-Nysus is a slender, effeminate man with shaggy dark hair, maroon-colored eyes (which become full-on red when his Semblance is activated), and wearing clothes that are quite loose and “indecent”, albeit not overly revealing.

Personality-“Wild child” doesn’t begin to describe Nysus’ attitude, though if you’re looking for a simple label, it’ll do. He is a world-class troublemaker, which says something, since he’s on a team of self-proclaimed “tricksters”. It is truly a wonder that he hasn’t been expelled from Beacon with the amount of mischief he causes. What is truly odd is how he does “petty” types of pranks rather than defacing monuments or damaging school property. Some examples: spiked punch bowl? Nysus. No soap in the restroom? Nysus. Books needed for an upcoming exam missing, despite you being sure you “set it right here”? Nysus. However, in spite of his wild and irresponsible nature, he has standards. For example, none of his pranks go to perverted lengths, such as peeping into the girl’s locker room or something of that nature. Also, he doesn’t stand for bullying, and tries to see to it that bullies are on the receiving end of his mischief.

Semblance-Frenzy

Nysus is something of a lunatic. As such, his Semblance is rooted in madness. While he acts loud and rambunctious most of the time, in combat, his Semblance is one to be feared. His eyes glow pure red, not just the irises, but the rest as well. He begins to laugh maniacally, then he attacks his opponent with (seemingly) unrestrained ferocity and bloodlust, ignoring pain dealt to him, possibly injuring himself to get closer to his foes. However, this can prove to be a weakness as well, as his maddened state causes him to lose all rational thinking until the opponent or himself is dead or too injured to continue.

Weapon-A staff with grapevines engraved into it known as the Thyrsus. He conceals a long dagger inside, for which he has a variety of poisons or explosive chemicals that he inserts into the staff, some lethal, some not. He can even use the aforementioned poisons as ammunition, launching darts filled with them.

#main!/rwby! verse #about muse

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mayihavethisdancedear · 2 years ago

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Signed yours truly

(Azul x reader) + wingman Cater

♡ Reader is gender neutral ♡

◇ No warnings ◇

♧ 1.8k words ♧

You go to Mostro lounge's special masquerade party! Your crush, Azul is going to be there, and since most of your other friends are busy. Cater accompanies you! What will happen when you do a slow dance with him? Will you both reveal your feelings or is it only one-sided?

You have been invited to Mostro lounges masquerade ball, they said it was a promotional event for the business. I guess it worked since you're going and of course, you had to buy a ticket beforehand. You asked anyone else if they wanted to go and deuce, Grim, and ace all had to study because they were falling behind (Not because they were scared of the infamous trio). Cater overheard you discussing it and said he would go with you for his magicam photos and that the two of you should get a makeover.

So that is what the two of you did and went to Sam's shop and he was right he really does sell everything even the most perfect outfit for you. Sam also had these fantastic masks in store too with all kinds of animals and just general plain ones. You picked out your favorite one and it went along great with your outfit. Cater picked out a red diamond-themed mask and said he already had an outfit ready. You both then headed back to his dorm since he had everything you could have to look good in magicam or just in general.

"Do you really think I look good, Cater?" He put down his makeup brush and said "Um, duh I did your outfit, makeup, and hair. Of course, you look good!" You look at him and smile "Thanks Cater I'm just nervous I normally so busy with the boys that I never get a chance out." He looks at you and laughs "Omg, you sound like a parent! But listen up, just enjoy yourself. I'm sure you'll have a great time." You nod and then think about Azul you can't deny he had your interest before he overblotted he just looked so interesting.

Cater looks at you sitting on his desk chair as he sits on his bed doing his makeup. He stops and turns to you and says "Are you going because there's a cute boy you like?" Your cheeks start feeling warm and you say "What?! I mean what are you talking about-" "Omg, you do! You gotta tell me I'll be your wingman." He does a little pose as you laugh, "Oh lemme guess, Kalim?" "Cute, but no." "Umm, Jade?" "No, but they're in that dorm." He stops and thinks and then he says "I know it's not Floyd... omg, I got it! Is it Azul?" You stop and get flustered and you hide your hands behind you face and he stands up.

"It's Azul!? After he scammed you and everything? I mean you do you." He sits back down and you put your hands on your knees "Yes, it's Azul, he just so charming and handsome, he has a soft spot he just doesn't like to show it." You think back to when you all went to the museum after you fixed everything. "Alright then, Mx. Ashengrotto, you ready to go then? "Stop Cater!" You playfully yell at him "Fine, y/n but I'm gonna help you get your man."

You both finally arrived at Mostro lounge while walking along the way he gave you a pep talk, talked about how amazing we both looked, and took some amazing photos. You both stand at the door and walk in to be greeted by Jade. "Ah, y/n and Cater it's nice to have the both of you here." He smiles politely at you two and then Cater says "Where's you boss?" You nudge him a bit and say "Cater!" He looks and you confused and then smirks a bit when Jade says "Ah Azul, Are you looking for him Cater?" "Nope, just my friend here." He winks as you sigh.

"I'll go fetch him for you." You quickly grab Jade's arm and say "Nope, you don't have to Jade. We'll go find him!" You smile and quickly walk away with Cater. You two eventually just hang out and get those expensive drinks but luckily they were included in the ticket. You two dance a bit and have fun as time passes until you see Azul. "Um, Cater." He looks at you and then spots someone "Omg that's Vil! Maybe he'll be in my magicam post! Brb y/n." He quickly runs off before you can say anything. Your back faces him until you hear footsteps getting closer to you.

You turn around and see him, his outfit is amazing, very detailed with his coat, shirt, and especially his hat. You see his mask is made of tentacles with a bit of purple and black. "Good evening y/n." He lightly smiles, "Oh, yes good evening Azul!" You smile and bit hoping that, and the dimmed lights will hide your blush. "My, my, y/n that outfit looks stunning on you, especially your mask. Very elegant." He puts one of his hands up to his chin before you can respond to him, he says "A little eel told me you were looking for me?" "Oh, oh yes! It was mostly Cater saying that." He frowns a bit, "But I did want to see you."

He smiles and says "Great, we're you looking for a contract?" You can tell he's joking, you hope. You laugh and say "I might, I have a hypothetical question. Can you make people fall in love with you?" He looks quite surprised and a bit upset but resumes his posture. "Do you... like someone, y/n? I could of course make someone go out with you but now, my interest is peaked." You feel flushed for even asking that question and his response just made you feel even warmer. "I think it's better if we discuss this later, don't you think?" You nod as he looks at the dance floor and says "Y/n, may I offer you a dance?" He bows and smiles while looking up and you. "Yes, of course, Azul!" He then takes your hand his gloved one and leads you over to a waltzing-like song playing.

He puts one hand on your waist and the other in his hand as you put your hand on his shoulder blade. This all feels surreal, I mean sure he knew you but is this act of kindness or fondness? You two waltz and dance around as you notice Azul trying to keep up but he stumbles now and then. He looks down at his feet and then at you and says "I must admit I didn't know how to waltz until a few days ago. It was Jade, who taught me the twins are much better at dancing than I." You giggle a bit and say "Don't worry I appreciate the effort you put into this, yo- Mostro lounge looks beautiful." You hope he didn't notice your mishap in your sentence. He smiles and states "I'm glad you think that, dear."

The song is close to an end as you almost trip he catches you and holds you up a bit, you look at him a bit embarrassed. You both get back into your position and smile about being in Azul's embrace until you look over your shoulder and see Cater with his phone out pointed at the two of you. You shoot a glance at him and he gives you a thumbs up. You shoot a glance at him and he gives you a thumbs up. Azuls facing the opposite way of your looks straight, not meeting your gaze. "Are you looking at someone, y/n? Is it the one you wish to date?" You look at him kinda surprised I thought he said he didn't want to talk about it right now.

"No, it's not I'm just worried I don't know if they'll like me back or not. They feel way out of my league. Oh sorry for spilling this all out on you." He looks at you "Nonsense, I'm sure anyone would be glad to have you." You are shocked now, "Really you mean that?" He nods and smiles and says "I mean you look quite divine tonight, here among these vibrant lights." He smiles and spins you around and catches you and fall back into your places "Pure delights surround us as we dance." The song ends and he pulls away and gets on one knee to kiss your hand.

"Signed yours truly, the octopus."

(I was going to end it here but let's keep going)

You look down at him shocked, you then smile as he gets back up and says "I'm sorry if that was embarrassing." He nervously chuckles and you respond "No! Not at all Azul. I enjoyed it." You grab his hand and hold it with both of your hands. You both hand, in hand walk off the dance floor and he says "Would you like to discuss the contract, in my office?" You nod as you both go into his office it's much quieter and away from everything.

He sits down in his chair as you sit across from him, he takes off his mask and sighs "So, who's the lucky gentleman?" He smiles almost sadly. You shuffle with your hands and look at him. "Well, he's charming, smart, and I guess you could say he's very alluring." He put his hands together on the desk while looking at you. "Well y/n, that doesn't give me much information, if it's someone I know, I can perhaps guess." "Oh? So who do you think it is?" He gives a curious gaze as he looks at the wall. "Hmm, oh, you do hang around with Jack, don't you? He is good boyfriend material, Strong, pretty smart, and charming." You sigh and grab his hand "It's... you Azul. You have all those features and even before and after you overblotted you always seemed so unique and handsome..." You smile and he shows a stunned expression.

"R-Really? I mean this is quite unexpected." "After you danced with me, I truly knew I liked you." He smiles and says "I guess we don't need a contract then do we?" "Only a date time." "Well, I'll meet you at mostro lounge, Thursday, at 7:30?" "How'd you know that's the only time I'm available?" "I have my ways."

After-party:

"Bye Azul, I'll see you later." You blow him a kiss as Jade, Floyd, and Azul wave farewell as you leave with Cater. "Ohhh, Azul has a date with shrimpy!" "Floyd-" "Azul finally gets their first lover. How unexpected." "Jade!" "We're just kidding Azul." Azul sighs as the twins laugh.

"Wait till everyone here's about this, especially your freshman friends." Cater states, you laugh and say "They're gonna freak out."

Next day:

"Y/n! Why does Cater have a post of you saying hanging out with the lovebirds #relationshipgoals #mostrolounge #cutiepies with you and Azul dancing in the background!?!?"

Authors Note: I loved writing this and didn't want it to end so I kept going! Hope you all love it as much as I do, and I probably should've been working on my assignments but whatever! :p I hope you guys know the lyrics I put into this, thanks to miracle music. I also think it's quite obvious to tell what kind of characters I like writing for. Again hope it's not cringe or too sappy. Hope you all enjoy it!

Masterlist

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doopdevil · 3 years ago

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Hi! Just wanted to say I love your blog I just found it not to long ago and your work is amazing! 💕 Also I wanted to know if I I could request an HC of Curt Connors, Otto Octavius, and Norman Osborn (separate if you don’t mind?) With an S/O who’s an artist and is trying so hard to teach them how to draw but it’s like not working at all? 😂💕 And again thank you so much!

sinister 5 villains x reader | artist!s/o hcs

MASTERLIST

warnings: mild cursing ; body insecurities ; art is difficult ; overall fluff and goofs

pairings: otto octavius x gender neutral!reader ; norman osborn x gender neutral!reader ; curt connors x gender neutral!reader

word count: 1,187

summary: your boyfriend is astonished by your artistic abilities. although trying to teach him takes quite a bit of work.

a/n: thank you so much for the request! for the hcs i also added some stuff on general artist s/o things. this was a lot of fun to write, i hope you like it! <3

OTTO

Otto definitely has an appreciation for the arts! Although his passion lies in science, he can enjoy more artistic and expressive endeavors. The man is a romantic at heart and takes a thoughtful approach to the art he sees.

If you create art thought? You’ve blown him away. He’s absolutely captivated by your work, in both awe and utter confusion!

“The process is quite simple, actually. I decided to use more saturated tones in order to accentuate these lines, making a callback to the centerpiece. In the foreground, I made sure the hues were far more subtle.”

“I see!”

“You do?”

“...Not really. I have no idea what you just said. Regardless, it’s gorgeous. It makes me feel… hopeful,” he muttered, brows furrowed in concentration as he surveyed your work.

“I’m flattered by your support, Otto, really.” You sighed, “...But you’ve been staring at it for 10 minutes. It’s not finished, sweetie.”

Sometimes you’ll affectionately call him your “Vitruvian Man,” especially when he dons his extra arms.

Otto was pretty confused when you tried to teach him how to draw. He’s flustered at all the details a viewer doesn’t tend to take into account when looking at art. All in all, he’s unprepared, but his curiosity beats it by far.

“Where does the light hit the sphere, Otto?”

“From the lamp,” he replied simply, gesturing towards the light hanging from your ceiling.

You released a sigh. This would be a long night.

A few days into your lessons, he surprises you!

“Otto, this is wonderful! But what is it?”

“...It was supposed to be you.”

“OH-”

It takes a bit, but Otto is a fast learner, and eventually gets the hang of it! Within weeks you’ve established the basics with him and now he understands your process so much more.

After drawing with him, at work he finds himself absentmindedly doodling in his notes. It seems you brought out his creative side.

If this occurs before his accident, expect to be helping him with sketches for his prototype. When he first sees it he’s overjoyed to finally see his vision come to life.

You draw Otto. A lot. When you first show him a drawing you made of him, he’s both flattered and shocked! Before meeting you, the man hadn’t expected someone to draw him. Seeing it in person is almost surreal.

If he ever feels insecure about his appearance, you make sure to tell him how handsome he is in vivid detail.

“Your soft features make you all the more attractive to me. Every crease I see displays a sign of strength and survival, tying you together. Your-”

Otto is blushing furiously. It seems you broke him. He nearly shattered when you continued gushing over him while stroking his cheek.

When you’re creating something large, like a mural perhaps, he’s happy to pick you up with his tentacles if you need assistance.

NORMAN

Although Norman can appreciate the work that goes into art, sometimes he struggles to find meaning in it. But that changes once he meets you.

Norman has a particular interest in more historical items, evident by his mask collection in his manor. He adores hearing you talk about art history, allowing you to explain the context of various pieces. Sometimes though, he just asks so he can listen to your voice.

He is incredibly supportive of your vocation. Do you need some supplies? Done. Are you having an art show? He tries his best to attend every single one. If you accept commissions, he definitely mentions you to his connections, eager to spread your name.

“Darn, I need more cadmium red,” you sighed, gazing upon your empty tube of paint.

Norman merely slides his credit card towards you.

“Go nuts,” he winks.

Norman found himself caught off guard at the idea of him trying art. Him? An artist?

You’re one of the few people he shows his gentle side to. His soft demeanor and tenderness had proved to you that he held a great capacity for more emotional artwork.

Norman clearly had a lot on his plate; especially once the goblin came into play, and you’ve been working together to help him find ways to relax. That’s how you came to organize little art therapy sessions for the two of you a couple of times a week.

He’s incredibly frustrated at first.

“I don’t get what I’m doing wrong,” he grumbled, “Why does it look like this?”

“Well Norman, why shouldn’t it look that way?”

“It’s a mess! A literal pile of brush strokes and scribbles.”

“It’s abstract. Did you enjoy painting it?”

“...Yes.”

“Then scribble away.”

He was hesitant at first, but he grew to enjoy painting. They’re not always the most detailed or elegant, but it’s a tactile way for him to express his feelings. Norman also feels a lot closer to you during the activity.

But then you tried to teach him drawing.

So many precious pencils had broken in the crossfire. But with patience, he learned to enjoy drawing as well. Much like his paintings, they’re amalgamations of lines, abstract in every way. Norman’s feelings are incredibly complex, especially when dealing with his alter ego, so words can’t always convey his frustrations.

Once he got the hang of it, he drew a lovely picture of Harry as a baby.

“I don’t think this is so bad, actually,” he paused, “Harry was just a weird-looking baby.”

CURT

Curt is incredibly captivated by your work. Even before you date, several of your pieces occupy his home. He feels like your artwork is just another wonderful part of you.

“What do you like about it?” You smiled.

“I like that you made it.”

As a scientist, objective data and facts are more up his speed. When it comes to art, the man can be a bit confused. But he’s got the spirit.

“Wow, this is great!” Curt said, trying to spark conversation while you tour an art museum. In order to impress you, he had done a bit of research into several of the pieces, eager to show he knows a thing or two. But he hadn’t looked into every piece, nor were you naive.

“Curt. Even I don’t know what the hell this is.”

“Well it’s obviously a… a…” he stuttered before sighing dejectedly, “Christ, I don’t know. A butt?”

Curt had become proficient with his left arm and hand, additionally developing particularly neat handwriting. Although he never considered using it to draw.

When you’d explain to process to him, he’d listen intently, impressed by your understanding of the craft itself.

Sometimes to help him find a good angle, you’d gently cup his hand in yours to guide him. Eventually, some of the mistakes he’d make would be on purpose.

Inspired by his profession in herpetology, he would draw lizards! But only lizards.

“This lizard looks amazing Curt! Next time I’ll show you how to draw people-”

“No. I want to draw more lizards.”

You made him a drawing of his lizard form that he keeps in his office. To him, it’s like your way of saying you accept him, no matter what.

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ganymedesclock · 3 years ago

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I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: “Beauty doesn’t have a one to one correlation with moral purity” is a very 101 basic concept people think they’re over in like fifth grade but it’s staggeringly insidious and omnipresent.

I’m talking about how in Sailor Moon, Usagi can have character dilemmas about being fat, and in the ghibli Earthsea movie, Therru can have backstory and character reactions about a disfiguring facial burn, and in the former you literally cannot see any part of Usagi’s body that’s even slightly thicker than any other character’s, and in the latter the disfiguring facial burn that characters react to with surprise and alarm is a faint pink patch under one eye.

I can talk about the visual difference between Jafar and the Sultan in disney’s Aladdin (the original animated version, I have not seen the live action remake)

I can talk about how half the point of Hans in Frozen is for once that we were given a villain that looks and talks like a disney prince classic, and how there was an immediate rush to look for (or write) his tragic backstory and what possibly led him to this, and when that’s done to Maleficent, the casting of Angelina Jolie also made her prettier than the original.

I can say this not as a finger-wagging scold of how all these works are morally impure, but rather, hoping to make a point about how deeply this is entrenched. How this threads in with stories where a villain’s behavior is motivated by their disability or disfigurement, or stories where said disability or disfigurement is their most prominent and talked-about trait, or where they “brought this upon themselves” because of their character flaws- Dr. Doom’s metal mask is directly narratively entwined with his cruel perfectionism and personal vanity.

I don’t think this means all of those characters and stories are bad. I’m not arguing that we must wipe clean every story that’s failed about this. But I think we should think about it, and I think it’s very important to ask questions if those stories also feature disabled or just plain honestly ugly heroes and neutral characters who aren’t depicted as tragically struggling with it like it’s a mark of evil. In the case of Jafar and the Sultan, they’re both old, but one of these people has aged into a comedy santa claus without any wrinkles that don’t make his jolly little cheeks look chubbier, while Jafar’s mouth is set in such deep lines they lend a striking, distinctive quality to his facial features.

And frankly, I feel like we can also talk about how deconstructions of this trope (or just stories in general) are far more willing to make both heroes and villains beautiful than they are to feature more “ugly” characters... or in the case of a thousand beauty and the beast homages, they make their ugly heroes just ruggedly handsome monsterfolk who are treated as ugly because they have horns or fur.

Similar to how it seems so much easier to write a rebellious character when we culturally no longer or never did consider the standard they’re rebelling from to be desirable (like corsets)

#writing ruminations #it's just good to think about #rotate in your mind like a rotisserie chicken #what's the message here #what are we communicating about bodies and appearances #because conveniently the people with the most power are the people who can set the standard of beauty #and if you think they can't set it in their favor...#remember fatness used to be highly desirable back when it was hard for most people to ever get there

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pyro-doll · 3 years ago

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Nights Like these Dottore x reader

Summary: soft one shot with dottore where I brainrot about how I think he can be sweet.

Content/Warnings: fluff :>

Reader Pronouns: None, you/yours, gender neutral

A/N: I am simply tired of people writing harbingers as abusive partners that can't be fun for the simps. Here again I offer a snack to the dotty simps.

(More content under the cut! 💫🎀)

The house was always cold when you came home. You pushed open the door causing the bitter moonlight seeping through door to illuminate the various gadgets that were strewn about the halls. To your surprise a candle was lit in the entry way.

He was home.

You stepped into the dust laden hallway, the small living quarters were generally left unlived in, you and your partner were both busy people. The soft ticking and clinking that usually offered it's words to the stifling air of your home continued, unbothered. Through the mechanical music you heard a laugh upstairs and you followed the sound with sleepy steps. A bright light was pouring out of his workshop, and you could see the white coat back as the harbinger bent over something on a table. the bright light illuminated him as he gripped a screwdriver tightly in his hands before plunging it towards the table. The scene may have been unsettling, but to you it was the sign of a genius at work. You knocked on the door frame, leaning against the wall and the man started. He turned around ruby eyes widening in pleasant surprise.

"Good Evening- or? I supposed morning is the right word." You said smiling. Eyeing an elaborate clock on the wall confirmed your suspicion.

He jerked around, hiding his surprise as he straightened up, proudly. "Any reason you snuck up on me like that?" Dottore sighed. Though he acted prideful you could tell he was pouting a little bit. Evidently your sudden entrance had made him jump and you tried not to laugh. You raised an eyebrow as he harrumphed turning back to his project. "And good morning to you." He mumbled.

That was Il Dottore for you. Proud and stubborn. You walked into the workshop, it was nice to see it in use again after some weeks time. He used it for smaller projects, hobbies, trying new ideas, the lot. You peered over his shoulder and he cast you an irritated glance and you stepped away.

Most would interpret that as hostility, but really he just preferred personal space while he worked and he would never voice it to you so you learned to read the hints. He gave you another look at you raised your hands apologetically and went to admire the handsome clock you had checked earlier. He relaxed, and after a few minutes he finished tightening the last screws into place. He laughed to himself again and presented to you his invention, with a proud grin on his face. Clearly his work had gone well.

A tiny wind up bird sat in the palm of his hand. You let out a soft "ooh!" And Dottore smirked. The tiny bluejay was covered in intricate detail work, the metal scraps even had small engravings covering them. He twisted the winding key on its back and it opened it's delicate wings and the beak opened, making a small chirping noise. "Small yet you see it's still incredibly complica-"

You cut him off. "Adorable. It's incredibly adorable."

He put the metal creature on the work table with a huff and you giggled. You often teased him and he would tease you back, but evidently he was too tired for such shenanigans. Dottore yawned, removing his mask, ruffling his hair in the process. He set it carefully next to the bird and turned to look at you. Dottore had a scarred face, but not unhandsome. It was smug, and there was always a glint of childish mischief in his signature smile but now, in the dead of the night he looked simply tired.

His hands found your waist and you leaned in, planting a kiss on his forehead. "You can tell me all about little mechanical birds once we're in bed, my love." You whispered. For a split moment, you melted together as Dottore smiled into your shoulder, placing his head in the crook of your neck.

These nights were not often, and you cherished them always.

#binnie writes!#il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you

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the-force-awakens · 2 years ago

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''i don't have anyone anymore.'' ''you have me.'' with poe?

gender neutral reader; nothing romantic happening in this one besides some crushing. hurt/comfort, discussions about having to heavily mask while in an unfriendly environment with unaccepting friends/family prior to the resistance. autistic!reader, and autistic!poe bc yes.

The Resistance was everything you hoped it would be. On paper, it was a paramilitary organization that surveyed First Order activities, working in between the lines to help those the New Republic had turned their backs on, and desperately trying to prove to an increasingly ignorant Senate that the First Order was a legitimate threat.

In reality, it was a paramilitary organization held together with space tape. There were only 400 members, give or take, and everyone knew each other — not just from living on D'Qar together, but from the past as well. Most were former government employees who'd followed Leia, or pilots who deserted the Defense Fleet when it had abandoned them and their morals. Then there were the veterans from the Alliance who'd already fought in a war together, and knew the parents of the next generation they were now fighting alongside.

It meant that the Resistance felt more like a family than anything else, and they'd welcomed you with open arms.

You'd been reserved at first, afraid to drop your guard or be yourself after so many years of masking or having to watch what you said. Maybe that was why after speaking with you for a few minutes, General Organa had Poe Dameron give you a grand tour of the base.

Or perhaps it had just been logical, since you'd wound up with the bunk next to his.

Either way, you were grateful for it because he'd made you feel a little more at ease, despite the fact that he made your heart skip a beat the first time you saw him properly — he was unfairly handsome and you're not responsible for the first thought that flitted through your mind when he held his hand out and introduced himself.

But it hasn't been easy, either. It's been a month now since you made the decision to leave Hosnian Prime, move away from your family and all but cut ties with them to join the Resistance, and that choice weighs heavily now on you.

There are a lot of good spots on base to hide when you don't want to be found, but one of the lesser used hangars towards the encroaching treeline you've found to be the best: so when your thoughts become a little too much to handle, you go there.

When you arrive, however, it becomes clear that it is not empty as it normally is. Instead, when you step inside the darkened hangar, there's a lantern glowing softly underneath a grimy looking X-Wing: but it does nothing to light up the room by comparison to the shower of sparks that abruptly soars across the space.

The miniature explosion is followed up with a series of swears and panicked beeps, and your medic instincts kick in before you know what's happening, rounding the frame of the starfighter to find Poe Dameron on the other side of it, face covered in soot and grease.

“Maybe we should've found something else to do, buddy,” he muses morosely to his droid who beeps an affirmative, before lighting up when he spots you. "Hey, stardust. Whatcha doing?”

You come to a stop, stride faltering over the softness of his tone and the usage of a nickname. Were you really at the place of your friendship (did it count as a friendship? You thought of Poe as a friend, probably, but you hadn't really known each other a long time either) that nicknames were a thing?

"I heard…” you gesture helplessly at the X-Wing and then at Poe. "I thought maybe someone had gotten hurt.”

"Nope! Nobody hurt. Well, maybe my dignity's a little wounded but I think anyone on base would be happy to tell you I don't have a lot of that left.” Poe pulls out a rag from his pocket to clean his hands of the grease on them, still smiling at you.

“Well, you don't look very dignified right now,” you admit with a small laugh, reaching for the cloth. "Can I? You've got some…”

"All over my face?” Poe guesses, handing the rag over. You snort, and it's not a pleasant noise at all, but it makes his smile tick impossibly higher.

"Little bit.” You confirm, stepping closer into his space. You have to stand up on your tiptoes in order to gently wipe his face clean, and it takes a lot of mental energy to ignore the way his dark eyes are studying you carefully, how you can feel how warm his body is, and the slight shadow gathering around his jaw — never mind the rosy-pink of his lips.

"It wasn't that loud. The X-Wing, I mean. How'd you hear it all the way out on the tarmac?”

You pause where you'd been carefully and lightly scrubbing some grease off the thin skin under his eye, your own flicking up to meet his. Instinctually, you start to go for a lie, but it's - becoming harder to come up with covers for your actions when there really hasn't been a need to lately.

So instead, you swallow thickly and fall back on your heels, twisting the rag between your fingers. “I like coming here to clear my head sometimes. There's usually sentries up on the top of the bunkers so - this is a good alternative.”

For the first time this evening, Poe's smile tightens a little. He steps a little bit closer, taps the side of your temple. "What's going on up here, then?”

You press your lips together, the truth lodged in your throat and begging to be released. It's never been easy for you to just talk, to say what you're feeling or to explain what's wrong.

But something about Poe makes you want to try, makes it easier. Maybe it's because you know no matter how long it takes you to articulate something, he'll be waiting to listen.

"It's been a month since I left Hosnian Prime,” you begin to explain. “And I keep thinking about…everything I left behind, how much happier I am here with the Resistance, and what that means about the life I had before.”

"What does it mean?”

You lower your gaze from Poe, if only because your eyes begin to sting. “That I was never going to be happy there with them, and…now that I'm starting to get an idea of who I am without them, the thought of going back - of going back to who I was pretending to be - scares the kriff out of me. But what's scarier is that I don't have anyone anymore.” No friends, no family, none that would ever accept you exactly as you are without complaints or disappointment.

Before you can comprehend the sound of his boot scuffing against the duracrete, Poe's nudging your chin so you'll look up at him, standing closer than he was before and cupping your elbow with his other hand. “You have me. Alright? You're not alone, and you don't ever have to be that person again, not if you don't want to.”

You lick your lips and nod once, ask hoarsely, "What if I end up not liking who I really am? Or whoever all of this makes me become?”

“Then I'll be here to remind you of how great you are, just like you'll be there to patch me up everytime I do something reckless and foolish.”

You huff a laugh at that, shoving the rag at Poe's chest, but you're buoyed by his words and his vow, the shadows that had been chasing you since you woke that morning finally being extinguished by the ray of sunshine that is Commander Poe Dameron and his huge heart.

And when his eyes crinkle a bit at the corners as he takes the cloth from you, pulling his hands away from you to fiddle with it like you had been, you soften and say, "Thank you…flyboy.”

Poe lifts his head incrementally at your own new nickname for him, surprise being quickly overtaken by a stomach flipping crooked grin. “Always. Now, is there any chance I can get your medical opinion on this X-Wing?”

"I think it's beyond saving unless you happen to actually be a mechanic, Dameron, which neither of us are. And in my medical opinion, I think you should move away from a ship that's already tried to set you on fire once tonight.”

But Poe's already getting down onto the ground to inspect it from underneath. “Where's the fun in that? You can stay if you want to make sure nothing else goes boom.”

Then he disappears under the frame of the X-Wing, leaving you to share a glance with BB-8. When you cave and settle down into a lotus position on the ground just beside the starfighter, it's only out of sheer concern for your friend and not an excuse to keep talking to him until the early hours of the morning.

Definitely not that.

#buckyisdisabled #myfic #poe dameron x reader #i didn't have me revamping my oldest fic verse in the bingo cards for this year but bet #*hey

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andromachos · 3 years ago

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yandere Diavolo makes you eat his lice for sustinence.

Yandere!Diavolo feeds a hungry Y/N

tw: i have never written lices, i hope the depiction is accurate

You walk down the beautiful streets of Sardinia. The description i'm about to write is so specific you could feel like you're looking at images of the city on google

But not everything was sunshine in Sardinia

"Mmmmmmmm I'm so hungry" you say

You were hungry

You walk around the streets but nothing was open. Weird. But whatever.

You continue walking until you spot a hidden place, inside an alley. It had a red sign with white diamond grid and it read "Ma Pidocchi, Authentic Italian"

Must be a new shape of pasta. You eagerly walk in

You enter the cold, dank room and wait in the dark for some seconds. Something was wrong. There was no hand disinfectant! This hole in the wall didn't follow covid-19 procedures, it wasn't safe! You need to get out right freaking now!

But the door closes behind you and you hear a sound effect

You are now seated with a bag covering your face. Well it counts as a mask so...

You hear the characteristic queef sounds of leather loafers being worn without socks approaching you

"Tch tch tch tch, ma what do we have here?" Despite being an Italian in Italy, they didn't have an accent. You were more intrigued that scared now

"How did you find this place, bambina neutrale rispetto al genere?"

He removes the bag from your head and you're greeted with a handsome GNC Italian stallion of a man looking at you. His fractured toxic green irises bore into you, and you could feel your own eyes get the size of a big pizza pie.

But you were in a situation

"I just walked in, I'm just very hungry. Please don't kill me"

You hear a sound effect and the pinkette is now standing 10 steps away from you, deep in thought

Truth is that Diavolo, while being a yandere mafia boss and therefore not an empath, never had sympathy for people. But when he heard your case, he couldn't help but remember the time his tummy hurt once. It was a painful moment, that marked him as a kid. But he overcame that. And now the past rots behind him. Perhaps, he can help you leave that behind too.

Another sound effect happens and now he's standing next to you, holding your face with his two hands gently, like you're a burger.

"Poppetina mia, you must have endured so much. I will spare you, just this once, but you have to grow stronger. The world is unfair to gender neutral y/n's whose tummy hurt"

You close your eyes for a kiss but instead he pries your mouth open with two fingers.

You watch in horror as he grabs a fistfull of his watermelon hair and starts popping the seeds off it. Wait those aren't seeds...

"You must overcome this. It hurts me more than you. But hopefully you will learn, and grow to build your own MLM scheme like me"

He gives you a kiss on your forehead, leaving a plum colored mark. A Maybelline™ wax seal of your fate. You both cry as he brings the first lice closer.

Years later, we see a matured y/n, looking at their city, their fucking city. Who knew reselling cosmetics from a magazine would lead you to currently have the town's politicians as your puppets. Puppet... Poppet. You touch your forehead and look outside the window. The handsome man never appeared after that bizarre lunch, but someone always sent you hot pink and black flowers to your desk. Also your competition always disappeared. Wherever could he be?

#jjba #diavolo #jjba diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x you #delusional yandere #women in mlm schemes #men in mlm schemes #nonbinaries in mlm schemes #not pro mlm just romanticizing it ^_^

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bride-of-jason-voorhees · 3 years ago

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Oooo a Jason x reader where the reader accidentally walks in on Jason changing and sees him shirtless for the first time and gets all flustered bc he’s so big and strong and has nice muscles and scars ahhhh

I did my best! I've been swamped with homework but I tried to throw this together. Sorry if it's not the best! Shirtless

Jason x Gender Neutral! Reader

Fluff!

After a long day of work, reader finds Jason without a shirt on. How will they react?

Today was a brutal day at camp. Not a bad day, just a very long one. The campers were antsy with excitement as the summer was nearing its end and they were preparing to go back home. You had to speak as loudly as possible to get their attention, chase a few around who thought rules no longer applied to them and just generally had to put extra effort into everything. Now, you were more than ready to get back to your cabin. A cabin you now had a visitor in.

You and Jason had only been dating for a short while, how long had it been? Six months? You two had moved in together into your cabin about a week ago and were both still settling in. When it came time to change or shower, you chose to be in separate rooms to undress, not yet ready to fully expose yourselves to each other. Hell, you still hadn’t seen Jason without his mask, which was going to be a whole ordeal when he did finally decide to show you, you were sure. You would never pressure him into showing you his face though, you weren’t stupid enough to potentially anger the camp grounds killer after all. Date him? Yes. Become his next target? Hell no. He was just as respectful of your privacy, which made you happy. Jason wasn’t yet bold enough to try and look at you in anything less than your pajamas or uniform, it probably would’ve overwhelmed him if he did.

The thought of him getting all flustered made you giggle as you made your way inside, calling out for him as you shut the door behind you. You dropped your bag to the floor and began to look around. Where was he? “Jason?” You called out again, making your way down the hall to your bedroom. You opened up the door then froze in place, seeing his bare chest in full view as his shirt dropped to the floor. Holy shit. You figured Jason was muscular due to his size and overall strength, but my god was he a unit. His chest and arms had some scarring on them due to his death all those years ago and hunting down people who he felt broke the rules of the camp. Your entire face turned red as you took in the full view of him. “Wow…” You gasped, catching his attention and making him look over at you in surprise. “You’re so handsome Jason..” He tilted his head slightly as you made your way over and ran your hands over his chest. Your hands were so soft, he felt like he could melt under your touch. You weren't repulsed by him? Usually everyone ran in fear just seeing him from a distance, but you, you called him handsome. It made his heart race as you looked up at him with adoring eyes, you truly did love him didn't you? In a bold move, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in closer, making you squeak. “Hiya…” You giggled nervously, returning the hug, now being able to feel his back muscles. It was nice and a bit shocking, that the both of you relaxed into the moment so quickly. Jason allowed you to feel him up as he laid you both down on the bed, sensing you needed some love because of how tired you looked. You nuzzled your face into his chest and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to indulge in how good he felt. He tilted his mask slightly and kissed the top of your head, making you squeak. Was he really teasing you right now? If this was how he was gonna react now, how would he react to seeing you in a state like this? You made a mental note to try that out as you kissed his shoulder. Maybe next time you could make him walk in on you?

#jason x reader #jason voorhees x you #gender neutral reader #fluff #jason voorhees #writing request

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biconicfinn · 3 years ago

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Sam/T'Challa Headcanons

just some general headcanons for my faves <3

i dont remember much of the mcu timelines anymore but whatever have this post okay thank you

i'm thinking maybe they get together post-ca:cw, t'challa helps shelter steve, bucky, sam, clint, scott, and wanda in wakanda for a while so they can recover

obvs bucky goes into cryo and then i'm thinking maybe clint takes wanda under his wing and goes on the run, maybe scott joins them too idk i didn't spend too much time thinking about it

so it's just steve, sam, and cryo bucky

steve spends most of his time talking to bucky and moping and being generally Emo but eventually starts going stir-crazy so he turns his usual captain america suit into the nomad one, and heads off to go be a vigilante fugitive

meanwhile sam decides to stay in wakanda; he hasn't had a chance to just be in a long, long time, not since captain america first knocked on his door asking for a safe place. he stays in a small little apartment in the capital city, kinda near the palace so people can still keep an eye on him

over several weeks sam establishes a routine: wake up, go for a run around the neighbourhood (cutting through the public gardens at the palace), come back home and work out, shower, eat breakfast, go out on a patrol with the border tribe around the area, explore the city and practice xhosa along the way, check in with sarah, lunch, check in with steve and bucky, read, sleep, repeat.

he finds a purpose in the help he gives his neighbours, helping the older lady next door with errands at the market, telling the kids stories about what it feels like to fly with your own wings, joining the border tribe on their patrols around the city

occasionally he runs into the generous (and gorgeous) king who gracefully allows him to stay in wakanda in peace while running through the palace gardens

t'challa rises with the sun and often runs in the morning to get at least some form of training in; crucial on days where he's stuck in meetings

sometimes the two run into each other—once literally, and okoye never lets t'challa hear the end of how he was so very flustered by sam wilson taking off his shirt to cool off and the sight of him all hot and sweaty and half-naked made him freeze and run right into said man—and sam has to come to terms with the fact that getting lapped by superhuman attractive men (though he personally prefers t'challa over steve) is just his life now

typically sam opens their conversation with a cat pun that makes t'challa fight back a smile and respond with something so dry and deadpan, couched in the characteristic diplomatic quality he uses it takes sam a minute to reply and react

but when sam does understand, t'challa is met with a charming half-smirk half-smile that makes his heart trip and he relies on all his diplomatic training to remain neutral or at the most amused at sam's comments

the conversations grow slowly, from casual one-liners and sarcastic quips to sam's stories of riley and sarah and his community back in delacroix, and t'challa's anecdotes about growing up in wakanda

soon enough, what starts off as a brief conversation during a part of their respective runs becomes a standing daily routine run together, the two becoming fast friends, admiring one another's loyalty, dedication, honesty, and determination

of course, because sam and t'challa are sam and t'challa, the platonic friendship with a side of appreciative attraction slowly becomes a crush

and it's not just the funny stories and misadventures they share with one another, but the sleepless nights and trauma and grief and healing too

sam couldn't sleep one night and went for a walk in the gardens he ran into an equally sleepless t'challa and so began yet another routine for them; to sit in the gardens at a clearing where the stars were bright and plentiful and visible, so vast that sam felt an ache in his bones to be up there, to be in the skies along the stars, and he realised that if there was anyone he wanted to be up there with him, it was the man sitting next to him in quiet contemplation, shoulders slumped slightly, expression handsomely brooding; the man behind the mantles of king and black panther

t'challa found himself wandering towards the gardens on those nights he couldn't sleep, when the weight of the crown and his legacy and the nation weighed so heavily on him that he felt he would crumble under it, he sought out the clearing in the garden, and more importantly, the man with his soul in the skies, his heart wherever he could help people

some nights were quiet for the most part, a brief check-in with one another before just simply taking comfort in one another's company. others were filled with conversation, those deep talks you only feel safe having in the dead of night, when the only thing awake and alive is nature, when every word is just that much more honest and real

losing parents and partners, the responsibilities of leadership, recovery and healing; just some of the things the two talk about when they can be just them, no titles or nationalities or protocol there to censor them

over morning runs and late-night conversations, sharing music and food and language and culture, and impromptu excursions to the city or beyond they grow close and find that their feelings are getting more and more difficult to ignore, both wanting more than just a friendship

it's not during a morning run or nighttime confession that they admit their feelings, but over a shared lunch together

they're eating a simple picnic lunch near the warrior falls where t'challa will soon undergo the first part of his coronation ritual and offer the people of wakanda to send a representative to fight him in ritual combat for the throne

the view of the falls is spectacular, and sam's wide-eyed face of awe and wonder, bright smile shining with all the warmth of the sun makes t'challa feel like he could take on the entire country in ritual combat and come out the other side victorious if sam continues to smile at him like that and if they had more time then they would probably go for a swim, but they don't so here they are, alone at the falls, the rush of water and the sounds of the river fauna their only company

they're laying on a blanket on the grass, watching the clouds, and sam feels just as at peace on the ground with t'challa next to him then he's ever felt with his wings in the skies

during a discussion about the coronation where t'challa answers the questions sam asks him. the subject turns to his duties as king, and sam asks about whether t'challa is expected to marry a woman in order to produce heirs for the throne. he knows wakanda doesn't discriminate against people for sexuality or gender identity, but the duties of a king are to ensure the legacy of the royal bloodline is preserved isn't it?

t'challa laughs, and says that while the royal bloodline is important, there is no restriction on who the king (or queen) marries, as long as they would be able to connect with the people, serve and help the people of wakanda the way any good ruler should

"so what i'm hearing is all's fair in love and war"

"i guess you could say that"

"so if gender and sexuality don't matter; does nationality?"

"perhaps in the past yes, but i feel wakanda is changing, and that it will not be such a concern moving forward"

"even if the king were to be with, say, a fugitive american ex-pararescue-slash-ex-avenger?"

t'challa turns to face sam, heart caught in his throat as he processes just what sam said, takes in the hopeful and tentative look in his eyes masked by a slightly wavering tone of jest and hunour, as he shifts to mirror him.

the moment stretches out for what feels like an eternity before t'challa can respond

"for you, my falcon, i think we can make an exception"

their lips meet, the two smiling too much for the kiss to be anything other than as sweet and warm as honey and sunshine, and sam wraps his arms around t'challa, bringing the king on top of him, and two exchange soft kisses and softer words until t'challa gets called away, promising to meet later not just for their near-nightly rendezvous, but for dinner in t'challa's private quarters

okay so that's all for now! i kinda hate how this turned out but whatever it's done!! taglist under the cut! if anyone didn't want to be added i'm sorry just let me know and i'll delete!

@sambuckies @thewondrouspickle @tchalcons @like-butterflies-and-glitter @shadowyenthusiaststudentus @vodka-infused-unicorn @cassleia @finger-lickin-fuckboy @twisterss

#skyrambles #t'challa #sam wilson #samchalla #black panther #king t'challa #the falcon #idk what else to tag uhhh #t'cham #???

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boytouya · 4 years ago

Note

READER SOCS X GREASER DABI- IM -yes pls omfg - 💫

𝙂𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙙

a/n: flashback in italics!

Warning: brief fight (rumble) scene, one (1) mention of homophobia, 1960s society

Words: 1.3k

The outskirts of the East rest on jagged roads and blend into smooth pavement, that of which belongs to the West. There’s nothing like it, a clear outline that separates the fortunate from the unfortunate, rich from poor, privileged from oppressed. The only grey area is a Drive-In. It sells the best popcorn you’ve ever tasted, with butter that melts right on your tongue.

In the West, Socs litter every corner. Whether they’re walking their dogs or going after an ice cream truck, you can expect to see people with well-clipped hair and ironed clothing. The sickeningly green grass was always trimmed, and it seemed that they were always attending parties. It never mattered, because their parents were the ones giving them enough money to swing by in school without even trying. They were all fast cars and dirty mouths, anyway. But you’d never say that out loud, they were your friends. And you were a part of the group too.

…

“Tuff,” Dabi whistles, watching his little brother-Shouto- wheel in a shiny car. He’s stripped of his leather jacket, instead it’s sitting in his hand. The car was a Mustang, all silver and an engine that revved a great amount of noise. They were getting pretty popular, but there was no way it was their replacement car. Too expensive, and Greasers didn’t go around owning cars anymore. “Who's is it?”

The boy shrugs, patting the car with a heavy hand before popping the hood and throwing a towel in Dabi’s general direction. The older makes a face, twisting his eyebrows and shifting his weight from one foot to the other, clearly waiting for an actual response. Sometimes he curses Shouto for picking up on his own habits. “Clean looking man came by, he looked scared. Then he asked if I knew how to fix cars. I said I didn’t, but I know someone who does. He gave me a card.”

“You go around telling my whereabouts to a nobody and expect me to do it?”

“He’s not a nobody, he looked very important.”

“Even worse, a Socs.” Dabi grunts. His little brother was always so neutral, if the kid knew how to be a little more intimidating he wouldn’t be dragged into so much of his shit.

”He offered a lot.”

And that’s enough to get the scarred man moving.

…

After all the partying, greasy food was the best way to soak up the alcohol in your system (or so you’ve been told). The Drive-In was the best place for that, and you got to see a good movie during it too. The uncomfortable back and forth movement of your best friend's car is almost unbearable as your friend ‘gets some.’ You try not to let it bother you, instead munching on your popcorn and crossing your legs on the hood of the car as it moves.

Not everyone is sitting in their cars, and since the Drive-In was the only area both Socs and Greasers stayed, there were a few motorcycles tied to metal poles. You subconsciously wondered what it would be like to ride one. You nearly jump out of your skin when an arm wraps around your shoulders, and you’re grateful for the dim lighting; parking so far in the back.

Your boyfriend, all scars, dark hair and sharp canines looks so smug as you playfully push him away. He settles on the hood of the car, almost hyper aware of how he shouldn’t be sitting on a Socs’ car, and grabs a handful of popcorn, “What’d I miss?”

“Just about the whole thing.” You try not to frown, you really do, but you only get to see him once a week, twice if you really begged hard enough. Your schedules were completely different, and no one could know you were together anyway. The only dates you’ve ever had were on his rooftop or driving around the outskirts of the East.

You met Dabi when he was getting jumped by a subgroup of Socs, he was hunched over and gripping a baseball bat while he got his stomach kicked in. You considered begging them to stop, almost risked your own life and thought about beating them up yourself, but you couldn’t risk your status. When the group left you said you’d stay behind, making up the excuse to ‘be sure the hood wouldn’t snitch,’ but you really just wanted to make sure they didn’t kill the poor guy. It was an unfair fight. Five against one.

“They really did a number on you, huh?” You offered your hand, wrapping one around his shoulders before he shrugs you off. He didn’t accept your support, instead pushing himself off his knees with the help of his baseball bat. You didn’t notice till later, but it had blood on it.

“You boozed-up or somethin’? Better get goin’ ‘fore they get on your ass too.” You could tell he was holding in his groans, and he looked just about ready to collapse. His leather jacket slung off his shoulder, and there was a rip in the arm.

“They?” You said instead of mentioning the obvious pain he was in, patting down your slacks. They were speckled with dirt.

“The Fuzz,” He shrugged, and there was a loud crack resounding from his shoulders. His face contorted into a mixture of a grimace and anger, and he turned to leave. “Wouldn’t want a rich, handsome fella like you involved with someone like me, would you?”

“Wait!” You stepped forward, mentally cursing yourself for being so loud. You lowered your voice, and instead gently grabbed the hem on the leather clothing. He didn’t turn to meet your gaze, he simply tilted his head to the side. “Your jacket.”

“Pretty tuff, ain’t it?” There was pride dripping from his voice, and under the grime, blood, and deepest shadows, you could tell he was incredibly handsome.

“It’s ripped.”

“Oh, really?” His voice was flat, and the emotion vanished. He still wasn’t fully facing you, but he looked as if he was ready to scram at any moment. You wished you could have met under different circumstances.

“I could fix it for you…?”

“Right now I go by Dabi. I’m sure you could, prince charming.”

“Don’t be like that,” Dabi’s gaze shifts from the large projected screen and back to you, his eyes lidded and a lazy smile on his face. You absentmindedly trace the cross stitch you used to fix his jacket the night you met. If there was one thing you hated about Dabi, it was the way he was so nonchalant. You met his brother once (and by accident), and it seemed to be some sort of familial attitude. It was hard to get under his skin, and his ability to mask emotion until it popped was intimidating. You saw it when people called you slurs, you saw it when he mentioned his father, and you saw it when you left to go home with your friends. Where your Sun set his had just risen, and you wished you could be on the same side of the world. “Always got things to do, hun.”

There’s humor lacing his voice, and you ignore the suggestive bite to his lap as you settle into your spot next to him, hesitating before you give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. His staples pull against his skin. One day you’ll ask how he got them, but for now you’d rather just admire them in their beauty. You know that after this you’ll go back into your separate lives, pretend to like other people just for the approval of your family, and go to bed thinking of the Greaser with a sharp tongue and sweet nicknames.

“Goin’ sweet on me, sugar?” He teases, shrugging himself out of his signature leather jacket and placing it over your shoulders. Dabi was different from any other person you’ve ever met. He didn’t judge you, not for the way you looked or dressed, not for who you liked either. Hell, maybe you even loved him!

And although you don’t have all the time in the world, you have tonight. And that might just be enough.

#💕.dabi #get it the title is based off pony boy’s favorite book #dabi x male reader #anime x male reader #my hero x reader #mha x male reader #mha x trans reader #bnha x you #bnha x male reader #touya todoroki x y/n #dabi x you #x male reader #x male oc #💫 anon

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nocapesdahling · 3 years ago

Text

As the World Falls Down - Chapter 1

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Summary: You are the head of Research and Development for your squad in Sokovia and also serve as its handler. Your leader is the esteemed Colonel Helmut Zemo, your best friend though you’ve often sometimes wished that it could be more than that.

Rating: Mature (17+)

There is currently no explicit sexual content planned for this fic, but there may be things heavily implied as we move forward so rating it M to be safe. Please respect the rating.

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Canon pairing of Heike Zemo/Helmut Zemo; implied potential polyamory; Zemo likes to be called Sir; Referenced Age Difference; Angst will be coming in subsequent chapters.

A/N: Hi everyone! Helmut Zemo and this idea would not leave me alone. This is my first reader fic and my first fic published on Tumblr, so I would love to hear what you think. This will be a multi-chapter fic, covering Age of Ultron, Civil War, and TFATWS. The first three chapters will cover AOU. Zemo and everyone in this chapter are speaking Sokovian, but it's written in English. It is assumed that the reader’s nickname exists in the Sokovian alphabet.

Chapter 1: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 3k

Chapter Summary: Everything was normal. Well as normal as it could be in the day in the life of a handler for a Sokovian covert intelligence squad when robots began to attack Novi Grad and things…well, things went downhill from there.

You had met Baron Helmut Zemo years ago, though you hadn’t known he was a baron back then, in what felt like another life and had been by his side ever since. You served as the tech wizard and handler for his team of EKO Scorpions, outfitting them with gadgets, designing their suits and masks, and acting as tech support for their missions. Zemo had jokingly referred to you as Q when you presented him with his purple mask for the first time and to your slight embarrassment it had stuck. No one on the team had called you anything else since.

Now, machines had attacked Novi Grad and you had to do something for Sokovia, for her people. You tried hacking the machines to no avail. You’d get into one and then it would fall over lifeless as though it never worked in the first place. The algorithm was constantly changing and the AI was too complex without your specially designed work equipment, which was currently in your base miles outside the city and not your apartment, so it was time for plan B.

You focused on getting your people out of the city and saving as many civilians as possible. A swarm of robots attacking seemed like something that would attract the attention of the Avengers, but they weren’t here yet and you couldn’t sit idly by waiting for them to arrive. You called the members of your team and reached almost all of them. They were stationed around the city, doing their parts to help civilians as covertly as possible. Your team was not used to doing anything without their masks, which you did not tend to bring home, but this was an extraordinary situation so you would all do what you must.

You had reached everyone, except Helmut. He wasn’t picking up via his phone or his earpiece, and you couldn’t help but worry about him and his family. You had all been called to (well, ordered if you were being technical) to defend the city, but your squad wouldn’t function the same without its leader.

You needed Colonel Helmut Zemo.

This was the first time in a long time that you had been out in the field, preferring to be behind the scenes, but you were capable and skilled enough to be there. Zemo had made sure of it.

________________________________________________________________

Flashback:

You were designing an exploding pen in the lull between missions, just for fun, when you registered Helmut’s presence in the room. You had no idea how long he had been standing there as you often got lost in your head, especially while working on a diverting project. Your brain flitted from one thought to the next and fixated on solving different problems or creating new gadgets. The outside world became a blur to you. Helmut’s voice was one of the few things that could draw you out of it. It had been like that since you first met him. Maybe, it was the timbre of his voice that always seemed to reach you even when you were figuratively miles away. His deep voice was so lovely.

“How useful do you think that would be, my Q?” Helmut’s voice was amused and fond.

You turned to face your best friend ready to excitedly tell him the multitude of uses for the exploding pen in the field, when your breath caught in your throat. Sometimes, it took you aback how handsome he was. He was wearing his military uniform today and he looked too attractive in it. It wasn’t even fair.

His hair often fell on his forehead, giving you the urge to brush it away. It was difficult for you to resist the urge to touch that lock of hair and him in general, but you were succeeding so far. Somehow. You gave yourself a metaphorical pat on the back for that. You thought you deserved it.

A man shouldn’t look so good with a gun in his hand either, even if it was one you designed. There was something undeniably sexy about the way Helmut used your gadgets, which took you so much time and effort to make. He took the time to understand them and utilize their full abilities. It made you feel like he was making the effort to understand you.

His smooth and confident motions were also mesmerizing to watch via the screen, while you directed the squad on missions. You had never allowed yourself to get too distracted by him, but acknowledged the beauty of his savagery that he occasionally employed to get the job done.

It was a toss up between which look you liked better, the military uniform or the dark purple sweater and coat he wore for certain missions. You had made sure that his shoulder holsters fit under it and that everything looked smooth. God, you loved how he looked in that coat. (You would also admit to admiring how the shoulder holsters looked on him too).

You took him in. His hands were encased in black leather gloves and his hair was mussed from his mask, but he looked good like always even having just come back from a mission. You took a glance down at his hands.

No blood this time, thank goodness.

You attempted to snap yourself out of it, hoping Helmut wouldn’t notice. Your brain was being particularly uncooperative today, pointing out everything you shouldn’t notice. Your mind was filled with of images of how it would feel for Helmut to caress and handle you the way he did the guns and gadgets you presented to him, what the leather of his gloves would feel like on your bare skin, and how it would feel to trace the multitude of scars you knew he received from missions not just on his chest but all over his body.

Maybe, it was time to find a new romantic partner that Helmut couldn’t scare away. He had intimidated the last one away within minutes of meeting them, and you hadn’t bothered to try to meet someone since.

What was the point when Helmut vetoed them as soon as you introduced them?

Given some of your current thoughts, it was probably time to do something about the lack of romance in your life. With your luck however, they would take one look at Helmut and run for the hills in both a figurative and literal sense. The man was quietly intimidating at the best of times, but when he actually tried he oozed danger. You almost couldn’t blame your possible partner. Meanwhile, when his full focus and attention were on you, you felt flustered and hot in a way you had never felt with anyone else though you attempted not to show it. You thought that you had been rather successful at that, though who could tell with Helmut? The man might have known about your crush on him for ages, but hadn’t said anything to save your pride.

(Helmut did in fact know and found it adorable. He and Heike had once mused about adding you as a third and equal part of their relationship, because both had seen the way you watched them even if you might not have noticed them watching you back. That reminded him that he needed to bring that up with Heike once more when he returned home. He schooled his face to give nothing away before continuing to watch you as you stayed lost in your thoughts. He would coax you out of it soon, but enjoyed watching your face as your brain worked.)

You attempted to shake your thoughts away again, knowing that at this point if Helmut hadn’t noticed your inattention before then he certainly had now. The man was happily married to a wonderful and gorgeous woman, who you adored, and you were his son’s godparent for goodness sake. You might have had a chance at one point years ago. You had thought your friendship might have become something more, but that had been before Helmut had met Heike.

What chance did you have with a Baron, anyway?

Helmut had stepped closer, while you were lost in your musings and reached for your hand. “Where have you gone Q, darling? Have I lost you in your head again?”

You snapped out of it and almost jumped back because of his new proximity. His brown eyes bored into yours with slight crinkles in the corners, showing his joking mood. You shook your head and hoped again that he didn’t notice the reason for your distraction, though you didn’t have much hope. The man noticed everything.

“I was just thinking about the improvements I could make to the exploding pen and how you all could use it on your missions!” you exclaimed, excitement in your voice and face as you spoke of your work. You hoped your enthusiasm would divert him from questioning what had distracted you.

Helmut chuckled softly and played along, “May I?”. He indicated the pen that was still sitting in your hand. His lips were slightly upturned. He knew how passionate you got about your gadgets.

“Of course, Colonel,” you smirked back and handed him the pen. Your hands brushed, the leather of his gloves caressing your palm.

Helmut stepped closer to the light and examined the pen. “I can already think of several uses for this, my Q, though I did happen to notice something about this particular pen.” He turned on his heel and held the pen up for your perusal as though you hadn’t spent the last hour examining and perfecting it. You played along, leaning closer as if to examine the pen. Helmut loved his games, and you had never been anything but a willing participant.

“Hmm?” you made a questioning sound as you straightened your blazer and looked away to avoid eye contact in the hopes that he would come closer with your faux avoidance of his question.

You heard him step nearer, knowing that he could walk silently if he chose and that he wanted you to hear him. “Look at me, my Q. Where has this shyness come from, hmm?” His hand was on your chin, tilting your head up before you could respond.

At some point, when you weren’t looking, he had taken his gloves off and you had to stifle a shiver as his gun calloused warm hand touched the bare skin of your face. A brief thought crossed your mind of what that hand would feel like elsewhere before he let you go, staying a little too close for your piece of mind.

“There you are,” He smiled at you, a full one that was more rare than you would have liked. “Now, Q, you know what I noticed? This pen,” and here he drew your attention back to the pen by playfully flourishing it like the showman he was, “is one of mine. I am the only one on the team that uses this brand. Do you know how much a Mont Blanc costs, darling?”

You shook your head and smiled sheepishly. You knew vaguely that they were expensive, but it was the best kind of pen for this sort of thing so you hadn’t thought twice. “No, but it was the most sturdy pen and I knew that you, Boss, would be the one most likely to use it once it was done. So I thought you wouldn’t mind if I used your pen.”

Internally, you wanted to laugh. You knew that Helmut would not have let another member of the squad get away with some of the stuff you pulled. You were the only one who called him Boss, though you had experimented with calling him Sir like the rest of your squad. That had brought an odd light to his eyes that you had never been able to quite decipher. He had almost looked hungry. You refrained from calling him Sir too often after that, except when you really wanted something or intended to tease him.

Helmut smirked at you as he slipped the pen into his pocket, “I’ll be keeping this, Q. Usual activation, I presume?”

You smiled back, attempting to stop yourself from bouncing up and down on your heels. He and the rest of the squad always praised your gadgets, but it gave you a secret and special sort of thrill to have Helmut’s approval in particular. “Of course, Boss.”

“Now, for the actual reason I came here before we got so delightfully distracted by the products of your brain, you and I are going to the gun range. I happened to notice you haven’t been there in some time, Q.”

“I’ve been busy,” you protested while knowing he wouldn’t buy it, “Being the team’s handler and tech wizard is hard work.”

You had never enjoyed committing violence yourself, so tended to avoid the range, though you had never minded watching Helmut on his solo missions and as he lead the team on group missions. The thought passed through your head again that the man looked sexier than he should in full uniform with a gun in his hand. You shook your head in an attempt to dislodge your thoughts. You weren’t sure where they had come from today, but you wanted them to stop and stop now. You resolved once again to pursue a new relationship. Helmut was your friend and could not be anything more, no matter your fantasies and dreams.

“I know you work hard, darling Q, and that you can handle yourself, but you must practice in case the worst were to happen and we needed you in the field. I know you have the needed patience, my Q, with your line of work, but you must gain the experience. A person can do anything if they have those. You can do anything… I’ve known that ever since I first met you when you were a young student. How many grades did you skip again? Look how much you’ve accomplished and you’re still so young.”

You ignored his question about the grades you had skipped. You had been something of a child prodigy and had been younger than the average grad student. “Yeah, yeah, Boss and you’re such an old man. Also, I’m not that much younger than you. Do you remember our first conversation in the library?”

“Of course, Q. I’ll never forget it, even when I am actually an old man. You got my attention by your book selections. Machiavelli and hmm what was the second one?”

You noticed again that Helmut truly was in a joking mood today. The mission must have gone well. They hadn’t needed you to act as the handler for this one, but you were glad there’d been no mishaps. Sometimes, after a difficult mission, Helmut brought his field persona back to the base. During those instances, his demeanor gave off the impression of a man who would do whatever necessary to accomplish his goals. No matter what was required. You hated to say it, but when he was like that you were a little turned on. (Well, more than a little but you weren’t going there at the moment).

You had always had a thing for intelligent and ruthless men, which now that you thought about it had started once you met Helmut, and his domineering field persona made you feel hot. You gave up on controlling your thoughts today as that seemed to be a lost cause, and internally sighed. Heike was a lucky woman.

“You’ll never let that one go, will you? It was for my course. Read one German erotic book or two, and no one ever lets you forget it.”

“Or two, my Q? Who said anything about a second one?”

“No one. Not me. Moving on, anyway you think anyone younger than you is young, Helmut. Also, you look younger than your actual age.”

“Yes, I know. Helps for undercover missions.”

“Of course, it does. Did you even need those glasses you were wearing when we met or were they just there to make you look more studious?”

He laughed and gestured for you to lead the way to the range, not answering your somewhat rhetorical question. “Let’s go, Q. I have to see how rusty you’ve gotten. Afterwards, perhaps if you’re good, I will teach you how to wield a sword.”

“Oh I’ll show you how good I can be, Sir.”

End Flashback

_____________________________________________________________

Well, the so-called worst had happened and you were out in the field, facing killer robots of all things. You were working in conjunction with your squad to evacuate and protect neighbors and strangers alike, but it was different being out here as opposed to behind a screen. You had finally been able to reach Helmut, and he had gotten Heike and Carl to safety outside the city with his father on their estate. You had breathed a sigh of relief at that. They would be safe there, and you did not need to worry about them. He had also reported that the Avengers had finally arrived and that they had been able to see them from their car window, which meant that it was time for your squad to finish up and get out of there.

Helmut was elsewhere in the city, and your squad was one of the only ones still in Novi Grad proper, so you were spread thin. Yet you couldn’t help but wish to see Helmut, to embrace him for what could be the last time. You had faith in your squad and the Avengers, but this was your country and your people at stake. That unwavering faith lasted until Novi Grad’s, your home’s, streets began to splinter and the city began to lift from the ground faster than you would have thought possible and no one seemed to be able to stop it, not even “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

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slasherhaven · 4 years ago

Text

Dating Thomas Hewitt Would Include

General Relationship Headcanons:

Getting involved with Thomas means becoming a member of the Hewitt family.

Luda May is the first to accept you. She is suspicious at first, looking out for her boy, but once she knows that you're feelings for him are genuine and that you really do love him, she absolutely adores you. She's glad that Thomas has somebody, that he's happy.

Monty is more neutral about the whole thing. As long as you don't bother him and you're helping out around the house, he doesn't care about you being there.

Hoyt, Charlie, whatever he calls himself these days, is a different story. It takes him the longest to trust you and once he does, he wants you helping out with more than cooking and cleaning. He wants you helping lure victims back to the house.

Tommy will try to make sure you don't have to do that. If he had it his way, you wouldn't be involved with the illegal stuff, he wouldn't even let see the gory stuff. He wants to protect you from it, from everything.

Thomas is shy and a little timid at first. He doesn't want to scare you away and he doesn't want to hurt you.

He knows how strong he is but he also knows how to control it, it's delicate work making and repairing his masks. But he guesses that you don't know that he can control it and he doesn't want that to scare you.

He's hesitant to touch you at first, to be too close. He'll get there eventually but some encouragement from you would be useful.

A few touches on the arm, a few soft smiles, it will slowly build his confidence.

When you hug him for the first time, he practically freezes from shock before slowly wrapping his arms around you.

After that he starts to become more confident with touches. A hand on your arm or back, stroking your hair when you hug him, taking your hand in his.

He loves receiving kisses from you, on the lips, cheek, forehead, his hands, or his neck when you're cuddled up on his lap. And he loves having you cuddled up on his lap.

You're just so small compared to him and he finds it adorable. But it can lead to him treating you like a china doll, like one wrong touch would break you.

The two of you can get busy, him in the basement or you with chores, and this can lead to the two of you barely seeing each other all day as the rest of the family pesters you both. When you finally get to see each other properly at the end of the day and you're just excited to see him and spend time with him, his heart just melts.

He'll scoop you up in his arms and sit down on the bed, he's happy to see you again as well and he cherishes these moments with you.

He finds it hard to sleep without you now, with you wrapped in his arms or curled up on his chest. Luckily he doesn't have to sleep without you anymore.

Getting Tommy to ditch the mask is hard. He wears it to hide his scars and disfigurement, he is insecure about how he looks and that makes him insecure about the relationship. He's afraid that once you see his face, you won't love him anymore, that you will leave him. It doesn't help that Hoyt has joked about it, it's a good thing you weren't around to hear it.

It just takes patience, not rushing into it and knowing when to back off, tell him you love him and that it's alright. You can try again some other time.

When he finally does remove the mask, he instantly looks away from you. You take his face in your hands and make him look at you, surprising him when he sees that you're smiling softly at him.

He nearly cries when you tell him how handsome he is, tracing your finger over some of his scarring. And then you kiss him and he couldn't be happier. You really do love him, even when you've seen what's under the mask.

The mask goes straight on again though.

From that moment forward, the only time he takes off the mask is when he's alone with you in the basement or alone with you in his bedroom. It's only off when you're the only one who can see. Some days he's more insecure and won't even take it off then, sometimes some coaxing can get him to do so but other times nothing will work and you just have to understand and be patient.

Thomas lives for the quiet moments with you. Sitting on the front porch together, just the two of you alone, with you sitting on his lap as you looked up at the stars. Yes, the stars were nice to look at but Thomas can barely tear his gaze away from you at any given moment.

He melts under your gentle touches, how you make him feel so loved and sometimes even...normal.

He will probably never feel like he deserves somebody as wonderful as you but he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you loving him.

Little gifts. Normally just little flowers (especially at the beginning) but as you get used to their way of living, he’ll start putting aside items from their victims that he thinks you’ll like. He’s pretty crafty and will make you various gifts as well. Luda May says it’s sweet while Hoyt mocks him for it. Anything to see you smile though.

This man thinks that you are the best thing to ever wander into his life. He loves you an unspeakable amount and would never ever even think of hurting you. Speaking of which, he panics so much if you do somehow get hurt.

#thomas hewitt #tommy hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #slasher #slashers x reader #Slashers #horror #the texas chainsaw massacre #ttcm #my writing

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Text

Afterglow - Part 5

A/N: Thank you guys for the support on the last part, and your mutual hatred of Ch*d. He really is the worst...As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: None

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

We’ll always be together.

Everything will work out like it was supposed to.

We’re going to go away to California and we’ll start our new lives there.

Nothing will ever tear us apart.

We’ll get away from this town and they’ll never see us again.

I love you.

“Hello? Hello…” you were barely aware of the hand waving in front of your face as you stared out of the large window, watching the late night traffic of the city. You shook your head as you snapped back into reality and found Chad staring at you with an annoyed expression on his face. You set your fork down and pushed your plate away, having lost your appetite some time ago and growing tired of going through the motions of eating. Chad sighed heavily, grabbing the fine linen napkin off of his lap and tossing onto the table, “what’s going on with you lately, sugar plum?”

“Nothing,” you cringed at the nickname but tried to keep your face a true mask of neutrality as you pushed the memories of your youth with Frankie to the back of your mind. You don’t remember exactly when you’d zoned out during the conversation, but a teenage Frankie, one that had promised you the world as you laid in the back of his old beat up pickup and stargazed had occupied all of your thoughts. You sat back in your chair and sighed, dismissively crossing your arms over your chest, “it’s just been a long day and I’m tired…”

“You seem to be having a lot of days like that lately,” he shrugged with a sour expression as he reached for his glass of wine and drained the rest of the dark red liquid in one go. You didn’t want to fight, not again, as you seemed to be doing every day lately, but you also weren’t about to let yourself get walked all over.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoffed at him, flagging down a waiter and silently asking for the check.

“You’ve been spacey, you’re always claiming to be tired, forgetting appointments, and you don’t seem to want to do anything with wedding planning,” he huffed at you. You were willing to coincide that much - he was right on the money. You’d been preoccupied with thoughts of your youth, your past that you’d thought you’d buried well enough, but had let them back in. They had become all consuming...and frankly, planning a wedding you were constantly arguing about wasn’t something that seemed particularly appealing, “what’s going on with you? Are you...are you pregnant?”

You almost spit out the water you had been drinking, your mind quickly running a million miles an hour at the question. You weren’t….surely you weren’t. No, luckily you’d had your period about three weeks prior and it’d been even longer than that since you’d last sex. It wasn’t exactly a thrilling time lately. Just before you could open your mouth to say anything else and reassure him that you most definitely were not pregnant, he blathered on, “you can’t get pregnant before the wedding...you know how bad that would make us look? It’s only two more months, after that we can try and get it out of the way. But not before.”

You snorted, grabbing the little bit of wine you had left over and downed it, to prove your point that you weren’t pregnant. Get it out of the way, you could have laughed at the statement if it hadn’t been so shocking. You never thought you’d have had a child with a man who thought it was just something to get out of the way. Maybe you’d get lucky and never have a child with him...it would spare both of you.

“I’m not pregnant,” you hissed at him, “and don’t worry, at the rate we’re having sex, I’ll never get pregnant anyways.”

“You can’t,” he lowered his voice and looked around to make sure no one had heard him, “you can’t just go around saying things like that!”

“What?” you asked as the waiter came over with the check. You took it and thanked him with a smile as sweet as honey, not even bothering to check the tab as you tossed one of your cards into the sleeve and set it back down. Chad normally always insisted that he pay, stuck in his old school thought process that men should be taking care of their wives and girlfriends, not the other way around, “I shouldn’t be saying the truth?”

“I’m not going to fight about this,” he insisted sharply, his eyes filled with nothing but malice, but his outward expression suggesting he was happy and content, “look, we have a lot to do before the wedding, and after tomorrow I’m going to be gone for three weeks-”

“For work,” you finished forward, trying to read his face to see if you could detect even the slightest flicker that he hadn’t been honest with you. He was a lot of things you weren’t a fan of, but you didn’t think he would ever cheat on you. If nothing else, the fear of getting caught and having his personal life and image blow up in his face was even to deter him.

Sometimes though, as you laid next to him at night, unable to sleep, you wondered if he truly loved you, or he just liked the pretty picture you presented, and the name that you carried. You loved him, truly you had, at one point anyway, but now you were questioning if you still did. Rather, you loved him, and you never would wish him ill, he wasn’t a bad man in that sense, but were you in love with him? That was the question that you had been struggling with. You often wondered if you were just going through the motions to go through them, to mold yourself into the image that everyone had of you. Were you truly happy? You weren’t even sure anymore.

“Yes, for work,” he agreed, keeping his face calm. You often considered yourself a fair judge of character and you didn’t detect anything that suggested he was lying, “and there are a lot of things that need to be done and finalized while I’m gone for the wedding. How can I trust you to do that when you can’t even remember dinner with our families?”

“I’ve got everything in my calendar, with alarms and reminders,” you promised, “it’ll all be taken care of.”

“Including your dress fitting,” he reminded you, “that’s the most important thing. We can’t have you going down the aisle in an ill fitting dress.”

“It will all be done and taken care of,” you promised quietly, “there’s nothing to worry about. Whatever’s going on with me, I’ll pull myself out of it.”

“Good,” he responded, offering you the first smile you had seen that evening, “I just want everything to be perfect on our day.”

“Of course,” you signed the receipt that was dropped off, making sure to leave a generous tip, before sliding your card back in your purse. Chad stood up and waited for you, and the smallest bit of joy that had been sparked always started to disappear already. Autopilot was on and you were once again going through the motions.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“When’s the big day? You are going to make the most stunning bride,” the young girl that was assisting your dressmaker was looking at you with the softest, most awed expression you had ever seen. You couldn’t help but smile at her, remembering that when you were young you had always dreamed of a day like this. You turned back and studied your reflection in the large, golden and gilded mirror, admiring the dress. It was a beautiful gown, made just for you, of course, as no one would ever let you forget if you wore a predesigned stock dress.

“About two months,” you said softly, watching as Imelda, the woman who had dreamed up the dress from scratch after first meeting you, came back with a veil. The veil itself was just as gorgeous as the dress, also created by hand, stitch by grueling stitch. You stepped down from the small pedestal and let her place it on the crown of your head as you blended magnificently with the dress.

“A fall wedding,” she sighed dreamily, “if I ever meet the one and get married, that’s what I’d want too. I think it’s the perfect time of the year, and so romantic.”

“It’s...it’s something,” you found yourself at a loss for words as you turned back to your reflection, finding the look complete with the headpiece. Every single inch was stunning, highlighting all your favorite parts of yourself. It was a dress borne of love, and made you look more like a princess than a woman who wasn’t even sure anymore if she wanted to get married. Every day that had passed since Chad had left for his work trip about two weeks ago had been agonizing as you tried to figure out what you really wanted. Did you really want to get married to him?

“I bet it will be so magical,” the young girl sighed wistfully. It took you back for a moment how much she reminded you of yourself, “how did your fiancé propose? Your ring is gorgeous too. I bet you’re both so beautiful together!”

"He's a very handsome man," you admitted, knowing that most women would fall to their knees for a chance at a man like Chad. He wasn't the type that you had been drawn to when you were younger, but he was still easy on the eyes. He had that soft, typical all American boy sort of look to him, tall, lithe with the blonde hair and blue eyes that women often found so dreamy. It just wasn't...what you had envisioned when you were younger, "and smart, he's an attorney, and just...yeah. A good man."

For the right person he might even have been perfect. You wondered how things would be different if you were the perfect match for him.

"You'll have gorgeous babies," the girl brought forth a tray of jewelry for you to examine and pick through to find the perfect match for your dress. Imelda softly tutted at the girl, suggesting a pair of brilliant diamond earrings for you to try.

"Maybe," you decided to dodge that bullet and grabbed the studs, popping them into your ears to see how they went with the dress and veil.

"But the proposal - what was it like? I bet it was so dreamy..."

"It was simple," you admitted. It was simple compared to others you had witnessed, but still more over the top than you had needed or had desired. He'd waited until you were at an outing that you swore consisted of everyone you had ever known. There was no doubt in your mind that he had done it to make himself look good and show off the huge ring that now sat on your hand. It was almost too big for your taste and you'd often thought about trying to get something more subtle. But you hadn't wanted to argue over it, so you just accepted it, "it was at a dinner with our family and friends. A little lowkey, but he did it over champagne and dessert."

"That's perfect," she sighed wistfully, "I hope that if I ever get engaged, my future girlfriend does something like that, or I can do if for her."

"I hope you too," you promised her with a fond smile, "you deserve the world too and the engagement and wedding you dream of."

"Hopefully I'll look as pretty as you," she smooth parts of your dress down as she looked you over, "hopefully Auntie Imelly will make me a dress just as pretty."

"You already know I've got everything planned for you," Imelda promised her niece, "you just have to wait until you find the perfect girl and the time is right. I want nothing but the best for you, and I won't see settling for just anyone."

"Never," the girl nodded at her aunt.

"But now," she turned back to you and held out a stunning tennis bracelet, "what about you? Do you like everything or should we make any more changes to the veil or dress?"

You took a long while to study the woman staring back at you in the mirror. She was beautiful, that much was easy to see, dressed in the most stunning wedding gown and jewelry. Everything about her was breathing taking, but there wasn't even a trace of a smile on her face, no light or life in her eyes.

"No," you whispered softly, running your fingers gently over the delicate lace of your the veil. You knew it must have taken Imelda hours and hours of hard work and care to make perfect it, "everything is stunning. This is...it's beautiful, every last stitch. Its an honor to be wearing this dress right now."

"Perfect," she beamed at you, "then we'll get it all put and stored safely until your big day. I'll of course bring it to that morning and make sure its perfect for you."

"But I can't...I can't take it," you said and the room grew so quiet you could hear a pin drop, "I can't accept this beautiful dress, this veil, any of it."

"What do you mean? I created this just for you..."

"I know," you said as you stated to peel off the jewelry and placed it show back in the soft, velvet case, "and I will pay you double what you originally quoted for it. I want you to keep it and give it to someone you deem worthy. Someone that desires to wear something so beautiful, someone that is marrying the love of their lives. I'll even pay for any future alterations, but I can't...I can't do this."

"What do you mean?" Imelda's face wen through a range of various emotions as she hastily helped you to pull off the veil.

"I can't get married," you stated, finally saying out loud the words that had been plaguing you for some time now. You couldn't do it. You weren't going to subject yourself to a marriage you didn't want with a man who wasn't the love of your life, "I'm not going through with this. I can't...no. I'll never be happy with if I do."

The young girl brought your clothes back for you as you started to strip off the dress, not caring in the slightest about any propriety anymore.

"Listen, sweet girl," you told her as she pulled the dress off of you, almost buckling under the sheer weight of it until you helped her, "never ever settle for anyone. Wait until the right person comes along...maybe it'll take ages, but you'll be happier. Don't make the mistake I almost did."

You pulled on your jeans and t-shirt, casual clothes that Chad would likely have abhorred, and turned back to Imelda, "I am so, so sorry to do this to you. All the hard work and time..."

"I'm just glad you kept yourself from making a huge mistake," she whispered as she pulled you into a hug, "that's the important thing of all. The dress will find the right home, and one day your heart will as well."

"Thank you," you said softly, feeling the wave of emotions that you'd been suppressing for so long wash over you. For a therapist, one who told her patients to express themselves however they needed to, you'd grown too comfortable with settling and being content, but not truly happy. Something was bound to break at some point and this just happened to be the straw they broke the camel's back.

"Thank you," you brushed away a few tears, finding more comfort in her touch and kind words than you had in anyone else in a long time, "truly, thank you. And please, send me the bill. Whatever you want, I'll pay it."

"Of course," she gently wiped your tears away, her niece giving you a small wave as you turned to leave the shop.

As soon as you stepped foot into the busy street, reality came crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. This was going to change everything, emotions would be all over the place, and dealing with two controlling families would be an ordeal within itself. But regardless, you felt lighter and happier than you had in a long, long time. Nothing else mattered right now. The only thing you were focused on was the little bit of light that had crawled back into your heart. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but you knew it was the best one - the right one. It had been a long, long time since you'd been able to say that about anything...

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, you threw off your coat, snatched your phone out of your purse and tossed it onto the floor. Quickly searching for Chad's contact, you paused for just a moment to let out a long breath before dialing his number.

You stormed into the bedroom and ducked into the closet, pulling out a suitcase while you listening and anticipated him picking up any moment. Your heart was beating like mad, threatening to burst out of your ribcage as you hastily tossed whatever clothes you into the large suitcase. It was a haphazard disaster, but you didn't care.

"Hello?" He finally answered after several long rings, sounding somewhere between surprised and annoyed, "what's wrong sugar plum?"

"I'm leaving," you blurted out before you could think about how to word anything or form a coherent sentence.

"What? Leaving where? What are you talking about?" he hissed under his breath, as you heard him walk to the door, shut it and work it, "what's going on?"

"I'm leaving you," you finished throwing the clothes that were easily accessible and jammed into the bathroom to grab your things from there, "I can't do this. I'm not marrying you, Chad. We're over."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he must have heard you frantically scurrying around, as his voice had a shake to it, "what on earth are you talking about? You're not thinking clearly!"

"No," you said firmly, "I'm thinking clearly for the first time in a long time. This has been something that I've been thinking about for a long time. Chad, you and I...we're not meant to be."

"You were supposed to finalize your wedding dress today," he hissed under his breath, clearly not realizing what you had said. Or if he had, he has pointedly chosen to ignore everything you were saying. Typical. And one of the prime reasons you were ready to be done with him and move on. You could couldn't imagine a lifetime of this - you'd never be happy again. You held the phone away from your ear for a moment and let out a long groan, "have you been drinking?"

"What?!" a look of annoyed disgust your features as you rolled your eyes at him, "no, of course I haven't. This is exactly what I mean, Chad. You just get so like...this and I'm tired of dealing with it. Are you even happy?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm happy," he huffed. Of course it didn't...that’s exactly why your relationship had been doomed for a long time. Status, money, image was everything to him. That had never been your wants and goals life - that was how you'd always been different from your family. You just wanted to be happy, nothing else mattered. That's why you had dreamed of moving to California and starting a life there with Frankie, "that's not what this is about."

"Of course it is," you insisted softly, "that's what...that's what matters in life, Chad. Life isn't about money and status and what others think of you. Its about being happy, love, being kind..."

"What are you on about? What kind of delusions have been put into your head?" his words were cruel and you couldn't deny the fact that they stung. This was everything you had rebelled against when you were younger, everything you never wanted to he. But here you were...someone you couldn't even stand, "your parents wouldn't stand to hear you talk like this."

"Yeah," you agreed quietly, "that's exactly why I need to do this. I never wanted to be like them...I don't want to be anything like this. I don't care about it. I just want to be with someone I love and to be happy."

"You're setting yourself up for failure-"

"Maybe so," you agreed quietly, "but that's a risk I'm willing to take. It's better to try than just to accept a life without happiness."

"Look," he sighed, deep, weary sound, and you could just picture him sitting there in frustration, "we can talk about all of this when I get back. Its a few more days...maybe you'll be thinking more clearly by then. Just make sure get your dress and have everything figured out. We can't afford to get behind."

"No," it was a firm, resolute statement. Part of you was shocked that he wasn't understanding or getting into his thick skull that you were being serious. Then again, part of you was not surprised.

"No?"

"You don't get it, Chad," you cradled your phone between your ear and shoulder before pulling off your over the top engagement ring and slamming it on the dresser, "when you come back, I won't be here. I'm not kidding, this isn't some sort of game. I'm done - we are done. I'm leaving and I'm not coming back."

"You can't just leave!" a little bit of panic had crept into his voice as he slowly came to the realization that you were serious - dead serious, "what are you going to do? Where will you go?"

"I can just leave and I will," you insisted, "this has been over for some time, Chad. We both know it. I'm taking my things and leaving everything else. The ring is on the dresser. The apartment is yours anyway, keep it. Keep it all. I don't want a thing. I’ll figure the rest out on my own.”

“If you walk out that door and if you’re not there when I get back, this is over forever,” it almost sounded like he was trying to give you an ultimatum, but it just caused you to laugh lightly. Everything about this situation was life changing - you were breaking away from your life’s charted trajectory, but it felt like the right thing to do. The girl you were when you were growing up would have when horrified to see what you had become. But she was slowly clawing her way out and coming back to life, just how she should have been, how she should have always been.

“That’s the plan, Chad,” you sighed softly. You weren’t sure if he was ever going to get, or if he would only understand when he realized that you weren’t there. Maybe he had to experience the full reality of everything before he accepted it. You sat down on the edge of the bed, realizing that this was the last time you’d ever be here, “look, I’m sorry for not doing this sooner or expressing how I felt. I-I’ve tried but you always shut me down. I know this changes everything for both of us, but it’s the right thing to do. You’re not a bad man, Chad, but you’re just not the one for me. I don’t wish you anything but happiness, truly, but it’s just not with me.”

“People will talk, no one will ever have you back-”

“Yeah, and I’m okay with that,” you admitted, “those people? They never cared about me, none of them care about anything but themselves. I’m okay without them in my life. The people that matter will stay and they won’t care.”

“Sugar plum-”

“Don’t,” you cringed at the nickname, “don’t call me that, I hate it. I’ve always told you I hate it...and yet you never listened. I should have known, I should have tried harder to let you know. We should have talked more - you should have listened and I should have tried harder. This mess could have been avoided a long time ago.”

“You’re a therapist and couldn’t figure this out,” he scoffed and you could tell he was trying to go for a low blow. He was mad so he was going to try and fight dirty, “must not be a very good one then. What do they even pay you for?”

“I didn’t think you’d resort to saying something like that,” you stood back up and finished stuffing things into your suitcase, making up your mind to try and leave as quickly as possible, “but you know, I am good at my job and I try and help people. Just because I don’t always take my own advice, doesn’t mean it’s wrong. See, that’s why we would have never worked out - you’re so quick to anger and we’re never once had a rational discussion when you get like this. I mean, this wedding, everything that’s when going on has been for you and what you think people want. I’m not...I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t who I am, it never used to be. I need to be the person I truly am again.”

“You are making a huge mistake,” his declaration was enough to make you laugh as he desperately tried to do anything to make you feel small and to stay. If you believed that you needed him maybe you would stay. The sad thing was that he wasn’t even so concerned about you, or the fact that he loved you, it was all about how this would look to other people. Pathetic.

“No,” you disagreed, “and even if I was, I guess I’ll learn my lesson the hard way. I’m okay with that. Listen...I’ll take care of cancelling everything for the wedding and telling my parents. You can tell everyone else, blame me, make yourself look good. I’ll have all the money refunded to you, I don’t care about it, I just don’t.”

“You’re really doing this, huh?” he laughed; it was a bitter, stunted sound. You finished throwing your clothes and few items from the bathroom into the suitcase and were in the process of zipping it shut. You already felt so much freer, so much lighter.

“I am,” you acknowledged, grabbing your things and heading for the door, “this is goodbye, Chad. If it means anything at all, I am sorry for how this came about, but I’m not sorry for doing it. This is the right thing to do….even if it doesn’t feel like it now. In the future you’ll realize it too.”

A few beats of silence passed between the two of you, and just when you thought he was going to say something, the sound cut out and the call ended. You groaned lightly as pulled the phone away from your ear, tapping the corner of it against your head a few times. After all this time, this was how things were going to end? You knew he’d be mad, but you didn’t think it would be like this…

Figuring that while you were already in the middle of dealing with everything and that lovely response you had might as well call your parents and get that over with at the same time. How much else could go wrong? If you were going to be disowned, than you might as well find out now. Scrolling through your contacts, you quickly found your parent’s house number, dialing and quietly wishing that neither of them would answer. Maybe they would be too busy running around -

“Hello?” your mother sounded cheerful as ever, and while you didn’t always see eye to eye with her on everything, you still cared deeply about her. You considered hanging up, but decided against it, figuring it was time to get this done and over with.

“Hi Mom,” you said softly as she grew excited to hear from you. She startled rattling on, not even letting you get a word in edgewise as she went on and on about your wedding, “Mom, stop.”

“What do you mean?” she asked suddenly, taken aback by your little sharp comment, “this is your wedding we’re talking about it, honey, it’s going to be here before you know it.”

“That’s the thing...that’s why I’m calling-”

“You got your dress finalized today, right? I can’t wait to see it, I know you wanted it to be a surprise for everyone, but I wished I could have been there…” you could tell she was getting emotional, but it caused a light pang in your heart. It was never going to change your mind, of course, but still gave you a moment of pause, “tell me, honey, do you love the dress?”

“There’s no...no dress,” your voice was soft as a gasp came from the other end, “because there’s not going to be a wedding.”

“W-what?” she asked, fumbling on some words as she tried to wrap her head around what you were saying. No wedding? Surely you must have been pulling her leg. Your wedding was the talk of the town, everyone knew about it…”what do you mean there’s not going to be a wedding? Of course there...it’s in two months…”

“No,” you repeated again, “there’s not. It’s not happening. I told Chad, I’m leaving, I can’t go through with this. I don’t love him, Mom, not like that. I cannot marry a man that I do not love.”

“You already told him? You’re going to call this whole thing off?” she was getting hysterical and you immediately regretted telling her. Well...she was going to find out one way or another...at least this way she was getting it directly from you, “just like that? What’s going on with you?”

“Yes, just like that...but honestly, it’s been a long time coming,” you dragged your suitcases to the door and took one last look around the place, giving it one last look over, “it’s...I wasn’t happy, not for a long time. And it’s my fault for not dealing with it sooner, but I couldn’t go through with this. I’m not going to subject myself and him for a life of unhappiness.”

“But what about-”

“None of that matters,” you promised, “I don’t care what anyone thinks. I just want to be happy and if I ever marry anyone, I want to be in love. Maybe that will never happen, but that’s better than a lifetime of going through the motions.”

“But Chad is...he’s perfect…” rolling your eyes, you tossed your eyes onto the counter and took off the apartment keys, laying them on the table for Chad, “the two of you…”

“Look great together? Would have 2.5 wonderful looking children? A dog with a big house and white picket fence?” you finished for her, “I know that’s what everyone says and thinks. But it’s so much more than that. Chad is not a bad man, and I know that, he’s good and he’ll be great for the right person, that person just isn’t me. I don’t care about anything else...I want to be happy, and right now, I know it will hurt him, but eventually he’ll be happy too.”

“Are you sure about this?” she sounded resigned already, knowing that it wasn’t worth it to argue with you. You always had a stubborn streak when you were young, and that had never changed.

“I am, Mom. I just...I want to be happy, truly happy, and if I had gone through with everything, it would never have happened,” you explained, “isn’t that important too? Does my happiness mean so little to everyone?”

“Your happiness is important, sweetheart,” she said softly. You could tell this was crushing her spirits and that no less than a million things were running through her mind, she always was the analytical type, stemming from her many years as an attorney. But at least she was trying; trying to understand your thoughts and respect them, even if it was hard for her, “are you positive that this is what you want?”

“I am,” you felt sure and confident in yourself as you headed for the door, propping it open and dragging your suitcases into the hallway, “this is the thing I’ve been more sure about lately than anything else.”

“Well,” she cleared her throat, “then that’s what matters. You do deserve happiness, my love. What are you going to do now?”

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” you admitted, “I’ll figure that out as I go...which I guess is now.”

“Your father and I are here if you need us,” she promised, surprising in a way because you were sure that you would be subjected to her wrath, “we do love you, you know, despite how it may seem sometimes.”

“I know, “ you closed the door slowly, listening to it shut with a soft click, bringing about a bit of finality to the life you were leaving behind, “I appreciate that. Right now, I just need to figure a few things out.”

“Call us if you need anything,” she insisted, and you took a deep breath before nodding.

“I will,” you promised softly, ending the call and tossing your phone into your pocket. At least that was done. Now you just had to figure everything else out.

Everything else suddenly seemed unbelievably daunting. You’d gone through periods before where everything you had known fell completely apart. You’d gotten through it then and you would again.

You had been broken and forced to pick up each tiny piece of yourself before. You’d do again and again and again if you had to. At least this gave you a chance at happiness.

This was just the first page of a new chapter. You can do this, you kept repeating to yourself as you started to walk away, you can do this.

On the outskirts of town, in the small, quaint house he called home, Frankie startled awake, out of his midafternoon nap. He looked around to see what the cause for the sudden wake up was, but could find nothing. He sighed as he sat up and rubbed his tired eyes, his heart panging with an odd, pulling sensation.

He wasn’t quite sure what it was...but it was something.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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