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#I'm sure he is nice enough and sounds like a decent person
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j can you please make a corpse x reader where they are both publicly dating and as all internet couples do, get a fair amount of hate. but one day a specific comment gets under the readers skin so they distance themselves from corpse (lots of angst but with a good ending ?)
I'm sorry this took forever, I couldn't get my meds and went a lil crazy agh, also idk if this is any good tbh I feel bad at writing lately. Hopefully you like it though oof.
-J The Ghost
死 Requests Masterpost 死 Request Topics 死 Submit A Request 死
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➢ Author: J The Ghost ➢ Pairings:  Corpse X reader | Corpse X y/n ➢ WC: ~4k ➢ Themes:  Hurt/Comfort? | Angst | Fluff | Happy Endings ➢ Warnings: Depression | Anxiety | Death Threats | Spiraling | Intrusive Thoughts | Cyberbullying? ➢ Summary: You and Corpse are publicly dating, you knew you'd get some hate, but you didn't actually think it would get to you like this...
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Request: Hate Mail
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You woke up from your nap to the sounds of several voices coming from the other room. He must be streaming… You thought groggily as you stretched and snuggled back into the covers enveloped in the scent of his cologne.  You pulled out your phone and checked the time, almost four… Jesus, he really had made good on his word, you didn’t even realize you could be that exhausted. As you scrolled through your socials you saw the notifications of most of his friends live streams. Sussy Sundays, of course, how did you forget? He really had taken it out of you earlier. 
You were grateful to have weekends off, allowing you to see him more than just any days you managed to get off work at a decent time, but you hated Sundays. You both took turns staying over at each other's houses and coming up with fun things to do together, but since he’d agreed to be a part of the Sussy Sundays, you had to find a way to entertain yourself. When he would stay at your house, it was easy to find things to do- dishes, laundry, and tidying up always needed done- but at his place, he mostly ordered takeout, and didn't really have enough stuff to ever accumulate messes, much less any laundry, so you were left to figure something else out. 
A few times he’d asked you to join in on games, or hangout and watch him, but if the viewers got wind that you were with him- everyone's chat would latch on and start blowing up about it. You hated the fact that you’d turn viewers' attention away from the streamers they were watching, which led to you feeling guilty for making even the slightest sounds despite both him and his ever supportive friends trying to actively involve you. 
Ever since the two of you had gone public, the internet had gone wild. In the beginning fans were pretty supportive and kind, but once Corpse started to post about you more and more, they quickly turned on you. It felt like the majority now was vehemently against the idea of your relationship. You knew that once it was public, you would get a lot of hate, but some of the comments were so hyper specific and vile- you couldn't help but be hurt. You always did your best to not read through them, or let him see when ones you did see affect you. You knew it was mostly young fans that were crushing on him and envious of you, but it all still seemed to leave you feeling drained, and anxious, an empty feeling of doom settling in with each critique. What if he saw merit in some of them? Sure most were shallow insults, but some seemed so spot on to you. 
Who even are they? They're nobody, why is he with them??
He probably felt bad- he’s just too nice…
He can do soo much better…
You weren't usually an insecure person, but it was hard to stay positive when you did kind of agree. You worked a normal job, lived an average life, and you weren't really into the world of streaming, even as a viewer. It was- at the least- confusing to understand why he would be with you over someone with a similar lifestyle, or had more in common with him. 
Tik Tok was your savior while he finished up with his friends. The algorithm only showed you the mind-numbing content you wanted to see, nothing about him or streaming at all. It was around 7:30 and you were halfway through a dinner recipe video when he finally entered his room again. 
“Have a good nap?” He smirked tiredly as he plopped down on the bed beside you. 
“So good…” You chuckled, saving the video before tossing your phone aside to snuggle up to him “How was the stream?” 
“It was fun. Everyone said to tell you hi…” He wrapped his arm around you and absently traced his fingers along your arm.
“Tell them I say hi too.” You smiled as you buried your face into his hoodie. “Your friends are so nice…” 
“Mhm… they really like you.” He chuckled. “Are you hungry yet? I'm starving…” You nodded and paused, still groggy from lying in bed. 
“Can we get pasta? I’m craving it so bad…” Your voice perked up at the thought of the recipe video.
“Of course,” he laughed at your enthused voice, “you better start getting ready though…”
“Were going out?” You looked up at him in confusion, it was rare he ever wanted to go out, especially so spontaneously. 
“Yeah why not? I mean… as long as you’re up for it?” 
“Y-Yeah, just surprised that you are…” You beamed up at him before mustering the energy to get up and get ready. You pulled your hair aside and headed to the bathroom to wash your face, peeking slightly in the mirror's reflection and catching glimpses of him changing from the bedroom. The cheeky blush across your face turned quickly to a hot embarrassment as you watched the black button-down settle across his lean shoulders. Your mind started flashing through images of all the comments deeming you unworthy of him. You turned your face away from the mirror and avoided eye-contact with yourself- knowing it would only cement those thoughts and sour your mood even more. 
You quickly brushed your teeth and headed back to the room, only to stare at the clothes you had brought in disappointment. Too loose you’ll look like a soggy cardboard box, too tight you’ll look like a shrink wrapped ham, too-
“You okay?” He chuckled from behind you as he fixed his shirt.
“Yeah… I’m fine.” You huffed out, grabbing at a random article of clothing and feeling yourself physically recoil at the thought of wearing it. 
“You don’t look fine- if you don’t wanna go out we can stay in…” He shrugged and examined your clothes with you. “You still have some other things in my closet you know… you don’t have to keep living out of your carry on bag. You can keep things here.” He laughed softly. 
“I- I know. I just… I don’t know- it's one of those days- you know?” You mustered up a small laugh. “Nothing feels right.” You shrugged it off. 
“I get it… let's just stay in.” He sat beside your clothes on the bed, offering a soft smile as he took your hands and pulled you closer .
“No, I want to go out…” You furrowed your brow a bit, irritated that you were letting it all affect you so much. “I’ll hurry up.” You pulled another few items of clothing out and headed back to the bathroom, not wanting to even think about him watching you change right now. 
You came back out after continuing to struggle through every aspect of getting ready while your mind attacked you. He sat up from scrolling his socials on the bed and quickly tucked his phone back into his pocket- a detail you wish your brain would find insignificant.
 “Ready?” He smiled and stood as you nodded. He grabbed his jacket and threw it on as you grabbed your things and started to head out with him. 
You were grateful for the comfortable silence as he drove to the restaurant, allowing you some time to try and change your mood. He’d put some softer lofi on the radio and let you silently watch as the streetlights flashed past your window. You weren't sure how he always seemed to know exactly what you needed, yet he always did. 
When you arrived at the restaurant you were surprised to hear he’d made reservations for the two of you. You couldn’t help but smile, despite the discomfort welling up that he’d chosen something more fancy than you had expected- or dressed for. 
“Wait, wait…” He hooked arm around your side, stopping you as you followed the host to the booth. He spun you into him in front of the elegant floor length mirror stood beside the entrance and pulled out his phone for a picture. You giggled at the quick cute gesture and posed with him, shutting your eyes as he snapped the pic to avoid any further mental spiraling. 
Dinner went by uneventfully, you stayed a bit more quiet as he excitedly told you about new songs he was working on, or vented about the issues holding up his new merch drop. It wasn’t entirely due to your bad mood, you loved seeing him enthuse about his passions and how animated he’d suddenly become. His whiskey toned eyes would light up and his excitement was palpable in the air, making even you more energized. It wasn’t until halfway through or so when you came back from the bathroom that things shifted. You caught sight of him looking up at you returning before tucking his phone quickly away again. 
“What’s that about?” You questioned lightheartedly with a laugh.
“Oh it’s nothing… Did you wanna get dessert?” He dismissed before swiftly changing the subject, but not before you caught a strange look on his face. 
“Okay Mr. Secretive… um, I think I’m full though.” You shrugged awkwardly as you looked down at your plate.
“You sure weren't saying that about the wine though…” He chuckled as he sipped his own glass.
“I- okay?” You rebutted, hesitating as you gave him a confused glance. “I was just trying to cure my bad mood…” You internally cringed as your voice came out more defeated and offended than you intended, seemingly proving his point that you’d had too much. It was only two glasses… am I really that bad? All that stupid pasta I kept shoving in my fat mouth absorbed it all- I don’t even feel drunk…
“Wh- no… baby I- I was just making a joke… I didn’t mean anything by it-” His face softened with concern. 
“No it’s fine… I probably have had too much- sorry.” You managed to squeak out, your face reddening with embarrassment. “Let’s just get the check…” I just want to go home now… Jesus Christ. You bit down on the inside of your lip as you heard the harsh, irritated sigh he let out. 
---
The drive back from the restaurant was insufferable, just as it had been for him to the restaurant. He wasn’t sure if even his knives could’ve cut the tension radiating from the passenger side. It was clear something happened but he didn’t know what. Before he’d gone to his office to join the stream everything was fine, but once he came back the mood had completely changed. 
“Are you- okay? Did I do something to upset you?” He asked as tentatively as he could upon getting back home. 
“N-No, I’m fine. I’m sorry I had too much to drink.” Your voice was still soft but had a bit of an edge to it. 
“I’m sorry I said that at the restaurant, I didn’t mean it like that at all. I meant it in like a- ‘it’s funny that you chose the wine over dessert…’ because I agreed- kind of way… I’m sorry baby.” He paused, taking your hands and tugging you gently closer as he kissed your forehead. “Y/n, If I did something to upset you, I wanna know, so I can fix it and make you feel better. You’ve seemed upset since I got off stream.”
“It… it’s fine, I’m just stupidly sensitive. I’m fine.” You ruined the entire night with him, great job. If he really wasn’t hiding anything on his phone earlier, he’ll surely start now. You huffed in frustration at yourself. “I should probably get home…” 
“W- Why? You always leave Monday mornings…” He asked, feeling his energy plummet as you continued to shut down. 
“I just have an early day tomorrow is all. I’m sorry…” You met his gaze, immediately wishing you hadn't as you offered a half smile to his heartbreakingly defeated expression. You pushed back the self-criticism as you went to collect your things, that could wait until you were alone in your car. He silently followed you back into his room like a kicked puppy and helped you gather your things, making your brain slew more insecurities about him wanting you gone. Once all your stuff was in your bag he walked you out to your car while you said your goodbyes. 
“Please drive safe…”
He’ll just feel guilty if something happens…
“...text me when you get home…”
He feels like he has to say that… you’re so fucking sensitive. He walks on eggshells with you.
“I love you…” 
No he doesn’t, why the fuck would he? 
The drive back home continued that way as you dissociated the entire time, only letting the tears fall once you were back inside your own house. After having a small breakdown over the bullying your brain had done, you texted him you were home before collapsing down into your bed- exhausted by it all. You were ready for any solace you could get from mindlessly scrolling your phone, though it seemed the universe had something else in mind. You opened your instagram to check messages from your friends but were promptly bombarded by a photo he’d posted of the two of you from the restaurant. He’d put some goofy angel and devil emojis over your faces that you tried to let yourself laugh at but couldn't muster at the moment. He’d captioned it ‘LOMFL 😍🥵’ that got a small smile out of you, but not without a scoff. It wasn’t really until you tapped on the comments, you felt your gut tighten. The first few were various heart emojis from Rae, Tina, and Sean- but below that it took a turn. His fans attacked everything about you, your outfit, your weight, even your personality- as if they even knew you. But it didn’t stop there, some crazed fans had gone as far as finding you somehow- despite him never tagging you- and DMing your personal account even more vile things, even death threats. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to scream and show them how awful you could really be, but mostly you wanted to make yourself stop believing them. You didn’t want any of it to be true… but you were now convinced it was. 
The next day you kept your phone completely off, even going as far as deleting all your socials before shutting it off. In the morning meeting with your boss you informed her your phone wasn’t working and email was how you should be contacted from now on, so you wouldn't even need it on for later. You went about your daily tasks at work completely numb, doing everything you could to keep yourself too busy to think. Of course, that only worked at work, at home it was entirely different. The next few days turned to weeks as you cleaned like you never had before, you rearranged furniture like you were suddenly trying to fit four Alaskan king sized beds in your home, you went to the store and meal prepped- full well knowing you’d have no appetite, you binged several of your favorite shows entirely. 
By the third week, you’d fully run out of tasks to keep the thoughts and anxiety at bay. You scrolled through Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon- finding nothing. Out of either habit or some subconscious cue about the anxiety of not texting the only person you wanted to at the moment, you opened up Youtube. You rolled your eyes and groaned softly but scrolled through the videos anyway, cringing as the recommendations of Sussy Sundays and various other videos with your boyfriend popped up. You felt incredibly guilty about not talking to him. It wasn’t like the two of you talked non-stop, or that he’d be mad, you were just sure with the way you’d left things he was likely worrying about you by now. As you continued to scroll you saw a live video pop up in your suggestions, of him. He’s live? Why is he live? He doesn’t stream anymore… You were already anxious, but after reading the title ‘we need to talk…’ you started to feel sick. You hesitantly clicked the video and his voice rang out from your TV. 
“...I really don’t give a fuck how you guys feel or what you fuckin think…” He paused, presumably reading the chat. “I know it’s not all of you… but those of you that are commenting this shit… I don’t wanna fuckin see it- I don’t everr wanna see this shit again… if you like my content but come into my chat, or friends chats, or on twitter.com or instagram and say that shit… fucking unsubscribe right now, fuck you. Get off the fucking internet, it's disgusting.” You took in a deep breath as anxiety welled up more, why was he doing this? “I’ll straight up never put out another thing ever again if this keeps happening. I know that people are always gonna be assholes, but if you’re a fan of me or whatever- and saying this fucking shit about my partner? Go fuck yourself. I don’t want your fucking support…”  
You stared at his animated figure standing in the rain blankly and opened up your laptop, starting a video call to him. You waited for a while as he went silent on stream before it was denied. Is he mad at me? It’s all my fault- fuck.
“Anyways- I just thought I’d get on here and reprimand you fucks… and to all my actual fans, being kind and supportive, thank you, and keep reporting these people- love you guys… oodles and oodles… keep being you- I’m sorry you guys had to hear this… love you.” 
 You tried again as the stream ended. Again denied. Fuck he’s pissed… Because of me he had to get on after not streaming anymore and do that- fuck… You took a deep breath and tried to not overthink. Maybe he’s just sick of your bullshit. If he was worried or he’d been trying to contact you at all, he probably would’ve answered. You fidgeted nervously at the thought. I’ll just start a new show- keep my mind off this… You shut your laptop and dejectedly threw it aside on the couch before getting up and grabbing some blankets for another night of Netflix. 
You were two episodes in when you decided to grab a snack but just as you paused the show and stood, there was a knock on the door. You looked over, and cautiously moved toward it. Peeking out the peephole you saw what looked like an outraged figure of your boyfriend standing outside. You felt icy panic run through you as you grabbed the handle and twisted, preparing yourself for the worst.
“You’re okay…” He sighed in relief as his whole body relaxed. 
“I- Y- yeah… I- I’m fine.. What are you-” You tried to play catch up, still in shock to see him at your door, let alone not yelling at you. 
“You haven’t answered your phone- for anyone- in like a month…” He seemed to pant out. “I tried to give you space and not worry too much when you weren't answering, but then you deleted your socials, and then didn’t answer Tina, or Rae… or me… I was… scared.” He paused and caught his breath. “When you video called me I panicked, I thought you were in trouble or- I- I don’t even know… I just rushed over.” He stepped in and yanked you into one of his enveloping bear hugs. You stood motionless, mostly from how tight his arms were around you, but partially from even more surprise. Here he was, yet again, proving that he knew you better than anyone- and certainly better than you knew him. The guilt of not talking to him only grew now. How could you have ever thought any awful things about the panic stricken, devoted, heart-of-fucking-gold man that was seemingly holding onto you for dear life? 
“I- I’m sorry…” You squeaked out, faltering under his obvious concern. He sighed again and released his hold but kept his hands gently on your arms. 
“Please don’t do that again… If you need space that's okay, but please just tell me… I- I didn’t know what to think- or do…” He knelt down to your level slightly, his face full of worry as he seemed to practically beg. 
“I’m sorry…” You swallowed hard, feeling your face heat as your voice wavered. 
“I-It’s okay… I- I’m not mad… I just wanted to know you’re safe- cause I worked myself into a panic not knowing- I’m sorry I just showed up out of the blue…” He took a deep breath. “If you still need space that's okay I just- I was really worried. I know I’m probably overreacting…” 
“No… I just… I don’t know-” You looked down at your feet, the guilt consuming you now as he continued to prove every horrible thought you had about him wrong. 
“Do you want to talk?” He questioned hesitantly as his mind began reeling in the same way yours had. You just nodded, looking up as he closed the door and looked back to you, eyes still full of worry. 
You moved back to the couch and curled up into the blanket, comforting yourself and trying to hold back tears of guilt over how you’d acted toward him. He slowly moved to sit by you. 
“What’s going on? A-are you upset with me?” He stuttered nervously, also anticipating the worst. You shook your head and shut your eyes as they welled up. It all felt so stupid now- but the constant harassment, death threats, and insults had done a number- and having him here, almost completely in the dark about it all but still so kind and loving was just too much all at once. 
“Oh- baby… shh come here.” He soothed melodically as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly again. “Please talk to me.” His voice was soft and quiet as he pressed kisses onto the top of your head. 
“I don’t wanna cry- it’s stupid…” You managed to mumble. 
“It’s not stupid- something is really bothering you… is it the comments and shit?” You nodded. 
“It’s all of it- I- I don’t know why you’re even with me…” Your voice cracked and broke. 
“Y/n, I’m with you because I’m in love with you- I wouldn’t ever let the opinions of fucking dumbass ten-year-olds with no internet supervision change or dictate that…” You cringed as you heard the offended tone in his voice. 
“I know… I just… I let my brain believe it all… and I feel shitty… and that just makes me wonder even more why- because I do shit like this- even though you’re nothing but amazing and loving to me…” You choked out between sobs. 
“You’re not shitty…” His tone softened even more as he pulled your face up. “I have no idea what it’s like to go through that, and how you can even deal with it. Most people don’t. I knew it was hard to see, and if I had any idea that you’d been this upset about it for this long I would’ve stopped it right then and there…” He kissed your forehead and wiped off your tears. “I’m so sorry baby… I should’ve known.” You shook your head. 
“I should’ve just told you… but I felt so stupid- letting it get to me- I wanted to just come home and clear my head and get over it… but then it got worse and I just I don’t know, I couldn't deal.” He pushed your hair from your face and let you continue after the sobs began to slow. “Now I just feel guilty and shitty for avoiding you- avoiding all of it, not telling you… especially when you are… like this- so nice, and understanding.” You scoffed harshly at yourself, making him chuckle.
“Don’t. It’s a pretty understandable way to react… I’m sorry honey…” He leaned in and kissed you softly. “Would it help if I pretend to be mad at you?” He joked lightly as you parted. You let out a weak but honest giggle and gave an exaggeratory nod. He laughed and tsked loudly. “I can’t believe it… how could someone so goddamn attractive, funny, kind, and lovable think that I’d be dumb enough to see any warrant to the words of fuckin dipshit kids? To think that I’m not already blindly and completely head over heels? I’m disappointed…” He mocked in a goofy tone.
“Shut up…” You laughed, wiping your face and pushing him playfully. 
“I love you dummy.” He chuckled and kissed you again. 
“I love you too, Corpsie.” 
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blipblooopp · 2 years
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Tattoo Cherry
Summary: You've been working as the receptionist for Deja Vu Tattoo for about two years now and you still haven’t gotten a tattoo. But recently, you've been playing with the idea in your head so what's the plan? Oh right, ask your friend and the owner, Hongjoong, to do the honors. Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Hongjoong x F!Reader Words: 4k Warnings: corruption kink highk, fingering/oral (fem receiving), vaginal sex, no protection (please... use protection), a bit of dirty talk, they're horny idiots, mutual pining, besties with tension Genre: smut
You didn't hate tattoos. Quite the opposite, actually. You thought tattoos were amazing. You couldn't wrap your mind around the idea of someone committing to something so personal for the rest of their life. Marriage was a similar concept in that area but even that wasn't as permanent.
You've always wanted one in the back of your mind. Despite the pain, despite the scariness of keeping it on your skin, and despite the fact that you didn't have a single clue what you'd get. A butterfly was too basic and so were flowers and lions and whatever else. The more you thought about it, the more it made your head hurt. It had to mean something for sure but you didn't think anything was worthy enough to be tatted on your skin.
You thought working for your best friend Hongjoong would help with this. He had come to you a few weeks after he had opened his shop called Deja Vu Tattoo and asked if you needed a job. You didn't, really. You had a job at a boring office working a simple nine to five but you also had a Hongjoong and after knowing him for a few years, you knew working for him would be better than any office job.
It was an easy job, for sure. You answered calls, booked appointments, ordered supplies, and made sure the shop was running when Hongjoong got too overwhelmed. He paid you decently and through him, you met his seven other best friends who were absolute dreams. Not only were they insanely nice to look at but they were sweet guys who made you feel included. It was a family.
"Y/n, you should've been here! The client was practically screaming and I didn't even pierce her yet." Jongho huffed as he threw himself on the couch in the waiting area. He was ranting about some client that was so sensitive. You just wanted to order masks in peace but you decided to listen anyway. "And get this, it was just her ears. Can you imagine?"
"You sound extra bothered today, Jongho." You pointed out, your fingers stilling over the keyboard just so you could give him a look. He pouted at you.
"I get that it's my job but I don't understand how you can be so squeamish over an ear-piercing. She even brought her boyfriend and he just kept apologizing the entire time. I didn't even get to pierce her." Jongho's the youngest of the bunch and while he was mature in a lot of ways, his age seemed to show whenever he was feeling petty.
"Are you bothering y/n again?" Seonghwa asked, running a hand through his hair. "You know she's busy."
"Busy, my ass. She's probably playing tetris or something."
You gasp and put your hand on your chest as if you’d been shot. “I would never.”
"And what if she gets calls?" The elder scolded, "Or someone comes in and hears you talking shit about a client. Can you at least wait till we close?"
Seonghwa's the oldest of the eight men. While you made sure the shop was in tip-top shape whenever Hongjoong was busy, Seonghwa made sure the boys kept their heads on straight. He was the official second in command and he didn't hesitate to keep the boys in their place.
"Seonghwa, you can relax. Let the little boy rant." Seonghwa immediately burst into a fit of laughter but Jongho stayed silent with crossed arms and a frown.
"I'm literally twenty-two years old!"
"Then you should probably act like it!" Hongjoong called from his office. You and Seonghwa were practically hollering as Jongho stomped back to his tattoo station. Hongjoong came out of his office shortly after, standing beside you as you continued to order things. "Hello, Beautiful." He greeted.
"Hello," You smiled up at him, "Is there anything else you need from me before we head out?"
"Head out? Where are you guys going?" Seonghwa asks, making himself more comfortable on the couch and taking out his phone.
"We're going to get some lunch. We'll be out for a little bit." Hongjoong replied.
"So a date?" Seonghwa teased. You choked on your spit. A date with Hongjoong?
He shifted slightly in his spot, "We're going out for a good meal. Hold down the fort till I get back?"
Seonghwa finally looks up from his phone, "I always do."
It wasn't a date. Hongjoong didn't think of you like that but you couldn't really say that you didn't think of him like that. The guy was dripping with charisma. He was a talented tattoo artist who always made sure that his personal clients and the other boys' clients felt comfortable. He took his craft seriously and treated everyone with respect. Not to mention, the man was a walking example of sex appeal. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see that much.
Maybe it was the way he carried himself, making sure to walk around with confidence but staying humble. Maybe it was the way that he was comfortable in his masculinity to the point where he wasn't afraid of painting his nails or occasionally showing up to work with makeup on. Or maybe it was that not-so-random neck tattoo of the flower you drew for him when you first met. You'd love to date Hongjoong, you just didn't know if he wanted to date you and you sure as hell weren't going to make the first move.
The restaurant you pull up to is small and cozy. The atmosphere was nice and you were well aware that you and Hongjoong looked so out of place. It was like Beauty and the Beast but only if the Beast was covered in black ink and not brown fur. Hongjoong didn't seem to mind the staring though so neither did you. They were probably staring because he was so good-looking.
"What are you going to order?" He asks, flipping through the menu.
"I'm thinking this kimchi plate. You?" It wasn't unnatural for Hongjoong to take you out on your lunch break. In fact, it was pretty common. He didn't take you out when he was super busy but those were the days that you would bring him food to make sure he had something in his system. You cared for each other.
"This curry ramen looks really good."
Any situation that involved Hongjoong flowed really well. There was never a dull moment when you spent time with him. He carried the conversation if there was even a moment of awkwardness.
"So, I've been thinking..." You start, leaning back in your chair.
Hongjoong laughs, "That can't be good."
"I'm being serious, right now." You shot back even though you laughed at his joke, "I'm thinking of getting a tattoo."
"Finally! You've been working at the shop for some time now. I'm surprised you didn't want one sooner."
"I still have no idea what to get but I want you to tattoo me."
Hongjoong's eyes widened as he sipped his soda. He felt a sudden foreign feeling... was it nervousness? Sure was. He's tattooed hundreds of people. It wasn't a matter of whether or not he thought he was good enough. He was just scared to fuck up your first-ever tattoo, especially because you meant so much to him.
He also felt strangely turned on at the idea of being your first. Your skin's as smooth as porcelain, and even though you weren't a virgin by any means, he'd be the first to permanently taint your skin. There'd be physical proof that he had been there. It was sick to think this way, he knew. You weren't an object that needed to be branded but it sparked a sudden sense of possessiveness.
He wasn’t blind either. You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever laid his eyes on. Your hair was always styled so nice and your makeup on point, although he preferred you without. You were such a sweet woman too, occasionally getting the guys coffee and snacks in between clients.
When Hongjoong’s tattoo shop was a mere dream, you encouraged him. You were actually the first person who didn’t laugh in his face. You’d been there for every step and whenever he felt like he’d fail, you’d be there in a flash to lift him up.
"Are you sure?" He asked, still on the fence. "You're not really good at making decisions."
"What are you even talking about?"
"Remember when you thought that office job was your dream?" He was trying his best to be smooth. He felt gross about the dirty thoughts that were coming up in his head.
"Remember when you wanted to be a poet?" You sassed back. "You even wrote me a poem."
"You don't need to remind me of Star 1117. I really did want to be a writer but I was more passionate about tattooing people." He rambled. Star 1117 held a special place in your heart mostly because he dedicated it to you. You could recite it word for word if he asked, not that he would. Hongjoong thought that was his worst poem.
"Hey, Star 1117 was, and still is, iconic."
____
Hongjoong tells you that you'll get the tattoo in a week so you can think of what you want to get. He was going to give you a few months, more than a few, but you insisted that you wanted to get it as soon as you could because you were so excited.
"I heard you're letting Hongjoong pop your cherry." Yeosang mused. He started working at the tattoo shop a year after you did, already having a few dainty tattoos scattered on his right arm. Now, he's covered in bigger, more elaborate, tattoos all over his body.
"I'm kind of hurt. I thought we were besties." He pouts at you as he leans over the counter in front of you. You roll your eyes but don't spare too much attention. You were trying to find space in Hongjoong's schedule. Your design, even though it took you the full week to come up with, was small so you knew it wouldn't take long but you knew Hongjoong. He'd probably take his time and make sure you were comfortable.
"No offense, but I wouldn't trust you to even draw with a sharpie on my skin."
"You do realize I work here too, right? I tattoo people daily like, that's what I get paid to do?" Yeosang's head tilted to the side as he sarcastically asked. You laughed to yourself.
"I do know that. I'm the one who fills up your schedule with clients. I just... I trust Hongjoong more." Which is true. While you did trust the men in the shop with your life, Hongjoong was on a different level for you. You wouldn't feel right if you had someone else tattoo you.
"No, I get it. I'm just teasing."
"Thank you."
"We all want our first time to be special." The man walked off before you could say anything, not like you could come up with anything in the first place.
____
"So, you're sure about this?" Hongjoong asked, his hand gripping the tattoo machine tightly.
"For crying out loud, Hongjoong, I will literally go to a different shop." Actually, you wouldn't. Plus, no other shop was going to give you the tattoo for free.
"Alright, fine." He didn't want to admit he was nervous but he was. He could feel the sweat in his pits. "But don't blame me when you regret it. Now, let me see the design."
You feel a rush a giddiness take over as you giggle like a child and take out the folded piece of paper from your back pocket. Hongjoong takes the paper and his eyes go wide.
"No way. No. I'm not tattooing this." He pushes the paper back to you and you whine.
"It's my tattoo, on my body. Please?"
"You want me to tattoo lines from a poem I wrote four years ago?" You knew he wouldn't like the idea at first but you thought he would just roll his eyes before silently tattooing you.
"I gave you the paper, didn't I?" You roll your eyes, "Come on! I love this part." You point it out for him and he sighs to himself, visibly struggling to wrap his head around the idea.
“…Fine.” You shriek with excitement and clap. “Just shut up and tell me where you want it.” You point to the inner part of your upper left arm.
Maybe it was because this was your first time or the location of the tattoo but it was way worse than you thought it’d be. Your eyes were screwed shut underneath your right arm which you had wrapped around your head in response to the pain. You tried to calm yourself down with breathing but they came out like whimpers.
It was torture for Hongjoong. As much as he wanted to hear all the noises you were making, it was getting difficult to tattoo you. He wanted so badly to be on top of you, to be doing not so holy things to elicit this same response.
He doesn't know how he did it but he finished the tattoo and heaved a heavy breath.
"It looks great." Hongjoong compliments. "You did really... well."
"I was crying like a baby." He laughs at this and stands in between your legs in front of you. You sit up and let him wrap up the new tattoo, all the while watching it get wrapped in cellophane. It looked so pretty.
"You were really loud but you did so well for me, babygirl." His hand reached to caress your cheek and you felt yourself gulp. Kiss me. Kiss me. KISS ME.
"Did I?" You ask, playing into his playful tone. "I should be rewarded then, right?" You hook your pointer fingers into his belt loops and pull him closer, feeling his warm breath fan your face.
His eyebrow quirks as he looks down at you. Your silent prayers seem to be answered when his lips finally collide with yours. It's messy and hot, teeth hitting each other as all the built-up tension takes over your bodies. Hongjoong's hands are all over you, touching you everywhere his hands can reach while your hands are too busy messing up his hair.
Your hands find the hem of his shirt and pull it off of him and yours follows suit with your bra. You pull away just far enough to take him in. You knew he was fit but damn, you could stare at him all day. You rake your hands over his abs softly and relish how they contract under your touch.
His tattoos were no joke, either. You never knew he had so many on his upper body. There was a huge dragon that started on the left side of his ribcage and disappeared as it wrapped around his back, its tail resting on his right shoulder. You never noticed his collarbone tattoo which read 'eight makes one team'
Hongjoong snatches your hand and breaks you out of your haze, your worried eyes snapping up to see if you had done something wrong.
"I'm gonna reward you now, beautiful." He said, kissing your palm softly before letting it go. He helps you out of your shorts, tossing them to some corner of the room and getting on his knees. The new cool air hits your skin, helping you sober up slightly from the intoxicating moment. You're just about to feel nervous when you feel that first small lick to your clit.
Your head falls back, eyes rolling. Your hands immediately find Hongjoong's head, pushing him further into you. He feels pride take over at the way you react, your moans egging him on as he lets himself go. His arms wrap around your thighs, locking them onto his shoulders as he dives in, lapping up every bit of your arousal and making sure you're legs stay open.
"Oh, fuck!" You cry, pulling his hair.
"You're so wet, baby." He replies, pulling away so he can drag a single finger along your lower lips, occasionally circling your hole just to drag his finger back up. "… so pretty."
"Hongjoong, please..."
"Please what? I'm not a mind-reader." His finger stops right at your hole again and your back arches with anticipation. But he doesn't enter you, he stops completely.
You look down at him and the sight alone makes you need him even more than before. His chin is still wet from your juices, his eyes dark and dilated with want. He looks so good between your thighs and the thought of him eating you out all night has you clenching on nothing.
He chuckles lowly, "Did you need something from me?"
"Please touch me."
"Where?" He taunts, standing up and putting his hands on your chest, playing with your nipples until they get hard. "Here?"
You shake your head no.
He hums as he plays dumb, his hands tracing the curves of your body, "Maybe you want me to just hold you here?" His hands resting on your hips.
"Baby, please, I need your fingers inside me." You rush out.
"Ah, that was going to be my next guess." His two fingers finally enter you slowly and your head falls back again. His thumb rubs circles into your clit and your hands are gripping the sides of the chair.
"Joong, I'm- I'm gonna-" You stutter, your mind slowly slipping away.
"I know, baby. Go ahead whenever you're ready." He encourages, his fingers continuing to bring you to your high. His voice sounded like pure aphrodisiac to you. How could you refuse? You came in an instant, painting Hongjoong's fingers with your juices.
"I gotta be in you, right now. I feel like I'm going crazy." His hands fiddled with the buckle, his excitement clouding his mind and making him struggle. Maybe this was a mistake but you guys were flowing so well. You had to feel the same way, right? He had to know before you continued.
"Tell me how you want it." Hongjoong huffed. He was above you now, his dick rubbing between your wet folds. It was driving you crazy; you just wanted him to fuck you but the words weren't coming out. He pulls away slightly, his eyebrows knitting together and eyes pleading. "No, look at me and tell me you want this... want me."
The vibe was suddenly very serious. You almost forgot why you were in this position. You didn't even have to think though. You knew what he meant even though he didn't explain himself. You did want him. You've wanted him since you met him.
You look into his eyes and cup his face. You give him a small smile. "I've wanted you, in every possible way ever since I laid eyes on you."
You can feel him relax as he sighs, "Thank god... I'm definitely gonna fuck you now."
You mutter out a please and Hongjoong's entering you without another beat. His dick is big, bigger than in your wet dreams. He bites his lip, forcing himself to take it slow despite really not wanting to. The look on your face is what keeps him strong though. He hated knowing you were in pain even if would only last a second.
Even when he was all the way inside, he waited until you were fully adjusted. You looked into his eyes and gave him a reassuring nod. His hips moved slowly as he gripped your waist like he wouldn’t ever let go. You knew you’d have bruises and the thought of this moment having physical proof on your body was making you more excited.
"Move, please, faster" You look up at him and move your hands to rest on his shoulders, trying to speak through the cloudiness of pleasure. Hongjoong wanted to imprint the look you were giving him into his brain. It was better than anything his wildest fantasies could come up with. But he obliged before you completely lost your patience. You both had been waiting too long.
He moved quick just like you asked, burying his head in your neck and occasionally leaving soft kisses. His hips were pistoning into you just right.
"Oh, fuck, baby. You're so fucking tight." His hands moved from your hips to the back of your legs, pushing them up so you were bent in half on the chair. Your hands instantly grabbed the sides of the chair, trying to keep yourself from flying off from the strong thrusts.
Hongjoong felt so good inside of you. He was filling you just right and you wanted to watch so bad but your eyes wouldn't stop rolling. You were reaching your limit but you didn't want it to stop. It was too good.
Hongjoong was fighting his own battle. You felt like a glove, warm and tight. You looked so beautiful under him. It all felt like a dream to him. He wasn't going to last long.
"Hongjoong!" You cried, feeling the knot in your stomach about to burst, "Please,"
"I know. I got you. I'm almost there" He replied back between moans. He shoved his head between your breasts, planting hickies along your chest. You didn't think it was possible but his thrusts were becoming faster and harder.
Your orgasm hit you in a flash. It caught you by surprise but Hongjoong was right there with you. He let you ride out your high before pulling himself out with a grunt and releasing on your stomach.
He let out a heavy sigh of satisfaction and put his hands on the side of the chair, shifting his weight on his arms so he could rest while standing.
"That was..." He started, taking deep breaths.
Post nut clarity started to hit you as you closed your eyes, trying your hardest to calm down from the high.
"Did you hate it?" You asked, your eyes practically glued shut so you wouldn't have to see the look of disapproval if he really did hate it.
Instead, he laughed... really loud. The sound surprised you enough to make you look at him. "Did I like it?" His tone was sarcastic. "Y/N, I have wanted this since we saw each other."
You felt your face warm up at this. "Me too."
"I know." Hongjoong said, feeling cocky. "You said something like 'I've wanted you since the first time I saw you! Muah, muah, muah." His tone was high-pitched in an awful attempt to mimic you.
"Hey!" You sat up and pushed him lightly. "I don't sound like that."
He just smiled warmly at you before kissing your lips and getting you a few napkins to clean up. After you wiped all the sex off your body, you got up and looked in the mirror, holding your arm out in a way to look at your new tattoo.
It's exactly the way you wanted it, in his handwriting and everything. You smiled to yourself.
"Do you like it?" Hongjoong asked, coming up from behind and wrapping an arm around your waist. Your head nods fast like a child who's just been asked if they want ice cream.
"It means everything to me."
____
"You look different." Seonghwa narrowed his eyes at you.
"I got a new tattoo!" You beamed, extending your arm so he could see.
"No, no, this is different."
"You're crazy."
"No he's right... There's something about you." Jongho joined in, narrowing his eyes too and shaking his finger at you.
"Hongjoong gave her head!" Wooyoung screamed from his station. You gasped, your head whipping in his direction.
"Woo!" You cried.
"Dicked her down too!" Hongjoong screamed back from his office.
"Hong!"
"Yeah, you thought you were the only two in the store but you weren't! But don't worry, I left and locked the door the moment I heard." Wooyoung explained, walking over to your desk.
"What's the tattoo say?" Jongho asked, grabbing your wrist and coming closer.
Thinking of you. That’s the greatest happiness for me.
2K notes · View notes
pechadream · 4 months
Text
Sebastian's Flower Dilemma
Pairing: Sebastian/Farmer OC
Summary:
Sebastian didn't like flowers. Anyone who knew him could tell you that much. 
It's not like he hated flowers, he just didn't care enough about them to spend some extra time in his day learning about them or stopping to look at them. 
They looked decent at best in his opinion for most cases, they weren't anything wow worthy to him. It's not like he was going to bother anyone who did like them. But it took too much work to keep them looking good, so he never saw the point. 
He didn't know a single thing about flowers.
So why the hell was he standing at the back of Pierre's shop looking at a wide array of bouquets?
Category: Fluff, Illustrated fic
Content warnings: Mild language
Word count: 6671
A/N:
Guess who got motivated to write/post fics again after like three years thanks to SDV?
I'm going to try to find my writing style again and I'm also trying out a new format for my fanfics where I include my art.
I'm gonna be testing and messing around with the format for the next few oneshots I post (E.G. The spacing of drawings and the placement of them in the fic) in preparation for a much much bigger fic planned, so feedback is really appreciated for that!
(Please note: For most oneshots, the drawings will most likely stay as [clean] sketches.)
Sebastian didn't like flowers. Anyone who knew him could tell you that much. 
It's not like he hated flowers, he just didn't really care enough about them to spend some extra time in his day learning about them or stopping to look at them. 
They looked decent at best in his opinion for most cases, they weren't anything wow worthy to him. It's not like he was going to bother anyone who did like them. But it took too much work to keep them looking good, so he never saw the point. 
He didn't know a single thing about flowers.
So why the hell was he standing at the back of Pierre's shop looking at a wide array of bouquets?
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He pursed his lips and stared at the vibrant colors in front of him, silently thanking yoba that Abigail wasn't home and that Sam had no plans on going to the store as he didn't want to risk his friends catching him and making a big deal about it or annoying him. 
Why were there so many options? Why do some of the flowers have meanings? Who the hell is writing meanings for flowers??
Sebastian's hand picked at a loose thread on his hoodie as he walked closer to the bouquets and looked at the vibrant options in front of him. 
He, personally, wouldn't really care what bouquet someone gave him, but this was serious. He wanted the best for her. But how the hell was he supposed to find out what flowers she even liked?
He thought back to when he visited her farm a week ago, her bright smile as she took his hand and led him to the corner of her farm that held her animals. The gleam in her eyes sparkling as she showed off her new flower patch in the center that surrounded her fruit trees.
"It's not really much right now," She said as she walked over towards it. "But I'm hoping to grow a lot more flowers soon when I can buy the seeds! Doesn't it look pretty?" She turned to look at him, his heart tugging as he smiled back to her.
"Yeah… It looks nice."
She definitely didn't know of his lack of interest in flowers. 
Sebastian looked at a rose bouquet as he tried remembering the flowers that she had planted down. He was sure she mentioned it once, but the name completely slipped his mind.
Maybe she texted him the name? 
Sebastian let out a sigh and pulled out his phone, completely unaware of what else was happening in the store.
He scrolled through their (many) texts between each other and alas, there was no mention of the damned flower name. 
Of course. Maybe Pierre would've known if she bought it recently? But how the hell was he supposed to ask–
"-Yeah okay dad! I'll just put these in the back, okay?"
Sebastian froze, his eyes going wide as he heard the familiar sound of a certain someone's voice. 
Abigail. 
Shit.
Why is she here!? She said she'd be out all day because she had things to do! 
And why was this the day that she decided to help Pierre of all days?!
Sebastian's eyes darted around, there's absolutely no way he'd be able to hide or try to get away without her seeing him. He couldn't put his hood up, if anything that'd just make him stick out more.
The sound of footsteps started getting closer as he just froze in place, not even daring to look away from his phone. 
His mind raced as he held his breath.
don't notice me don't notice me don't notice me don't-
"... Seb? What are you doing here?"
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damnit.
Sebastian's head shot up as his panicked eyes met Abigail's (very confused) gaze. His mouth opened, trying to come up with some stupid excuse as to why he was next to a bunch of bouquets. His eyes darted back and forth from Abigail, then to the bouquets, and then to his phone. 
Abigail stared at him, waiting for him to respond before she followed his gaze to the bouquets and her mouth formed an 'o' as it sank in. 
"Oh my god…"
Nonononono-
"Holy shit- Are you- Sebastian, are you going to ask someone out?" A wide grin plastered itself on her face as she quickly set down the boxes onto an empty shelf before rushing over and squeezing him in a hug. "I can't believe it! Sebby's fallen in loveeee-"
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"NO- No, it's not-!" Sebastian shoved his phone into his pocket and backed away from Abigail. "You're completely wrong- I'm not asking anyone out, I'm just- …. looking at the flowers?" He weakly said, his voice getting more quiet as he kept talking. 
Abigail snickered, "God, if you're gonna lie, at least put in some effort." The girl walked over to the display, leaning against the side of it. "Soo, which one were you thinking of?".
Sebastian's fingers picked at the loose thread on his hoodie even more roughly as he dug himself deeper into a hole. "None of them! I'm just- Looking at some for Maru, because she said she needed flowers for an experiment and- " "Sebastian that's an even worse lie." She shook her head and gestured for him to come over. His shoulders slacked as he felt defeated, taking his three steps of shame over to be closer to the display.
Abigail's teasing grin softened as she nudged his shoulder, "C'mon, I know you're probably struggling with this. Tell me who you're crushing on and I'll help you pick one!" She walked over to stand beside him. "Sooo? Who is it?"
Sebastian felt his face burning up, god he wanted to die. He took in a deep breath before finally saying her name. 
"... It's Luna."
He could only stare at the floor as his face reddened, he couldn't believe he was just sharing his crush as if he were in highschool. 
Abigail stared at him, taking it in. 
"Wow, that's…" She took in a breath.
"... not really much of a surprise." Abigail let out a laugh. 
His head snapped back to look at her again. "What?" Sebastian stared at her in confusion. "How- how did you-" He watched as she shrugged. "Dude, you're so predictable! I was gonna guess if it was Luna you're asking out! But it's kinda rude to guess someone's crush like that so-" 
"Abby, how did you know?" Sebastian shoved his hands into his pockets, his face burning up more. Abigail just stared at him blankly.
"Sebastian…" She shook her head and placed her hands on his shoulders, "Oh, sweet, oblivious, Sebastian…" the woman let out a sigh. "How can you be so oblivious to what you do? Mr. 'Of course, Luna! Of course I'll step outside into the sun for you!'." She said in a mocking tone while clasping her hands together.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "I do not act like that." He smacked her on the shoulder gently. She scoffed with a grin, "You sure? It really seems like that to me!"
Abigail rolled her eyes before putting her hands on her hips.  "What kind of flowers does she like?" 
"I… Don't know." He said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as Abigail just stared at him blankly.
"You… Don't know?" She stared at him for a second before walking over and picking up a rose bouquet. "What about this? It's pretty, isn't it?" She lifted it towards him as he backed away.
"I dunno… Isn't that a bit… Cliché?" He gently pushed it away as she let out another sigh. "Dude, she won't care! If she feels the same way then she'll just accept it and make out with you or something! She's not gonna throw it on the floor and stomp on it while going on about how 'This didn't even cost 10,000G, I don't want it'!" 
Abigail placed the bouquet back before picking up another one, this one being a bouquet of daisies and holding it out towards Sebastian, "How about this one?" She watched as he scrunched his nose. "That feels too childish." Abigail scoffed and placed it back. "Seriously? Seb, she's not gonna care, she's not picky!" 
"But I want there to still be thought put into it!" He watched as Abigail took a closer look at the selection. "Kinda hard to put thought into it when you don't even like them, Sebastian…" She muttered as she grabbed a bouquet of mixed flowers. Sebastian stared at it for a second before opening his mouth again. "Oh, what is it this time." Abigail said with an exasperated tone. 
"Isn't it a bit… much??" 
"... What is that even supposed to mean."
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Sebastian gestured to the flowers as she looked down at it as well. "I dunno, it just feels really… Fancy? Like- That's not something I'd get for a confession, probably more so an anniversary or something- It's a special occasion bouquet." 
Abigail blinked at him.
"Why are you acting like you know anything about flowers?" She placed the bouquet back into its spot, "Although I guess you are right," She ran a hand through her vibrant hair, "It does seem like it’s a bit much." 
They both let out a sigh as the bell above the door rang, footsteps entered the building as Abigail and Sebastian continued to stare at the flowers in front of them.
Pierre said his usual greeting which was then met by a chipper: "Hey! Do you guys have some cleaner in stock? Mom wanted me to grab some, she just ran out."
Wait… Is that-
"Ah, I believe we do! It should be near the back. Tell Jodi that Caroline and I say hi, okay Sam?" 
God damnit.
"Sure thing!" Sam's voice sounded like it got closer as footsteps got closer, Sebastian pulled his hood up and held onto the edges tightly, there was no possible chance of that working, but he did not want Sam seeing his face right now. Maybe there was a tiny chance that the cleaner was closer to Sam than he thought, and Sam might not see him. 
Abigail saw his tense body and stressed expression as she giggled lightly before walking closer to the flowers and gesturing to some, before looking at Sebastian and raising an eyebrow. 
Sebastian shook his head as his lips squeezed together. 
"Hey, whatcha up to?"
A pair of hands that belonged to the voice latched onto his shoulders.
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Sebastian flinched hard and quickly turned around, stumbling backwards and almost bumping into the flower display as his eyes met with Sam's expression, a massive grin on the man’s face while his eyes gleamed at catching his best friend looking at flowers. (It was actually more likely that he was just amused that he startled Sebastian more than anything else.) 
"GOD- You can't just- Sam–! What is your problem!?" Sebastian shoved Sam's shoulder as Sam started laughing, Abigail's laugh quickly followed. "You gotta admit, Seb," She started up, "That was kinda funny!" 
"No it wasn't!" He buried his head in his hands, his face felt like it was on fire. 
Sam walked closer to Sebastian as his grin got wider, "Dude, do you have any idea how suspicious you look right now?" He gestured his hand towards Sebastian's outfit, "You're wearing all black with your hood up while looking at flowers- If Mayor Lewis saw you he'd probably think you were about to play another prank!" He let out another laugh while Sebastian glared at him through his fingers. 
"What are you even doing here? I thought you hated these things!" Sam tilted his head before it sank in. "Wait…" His eyes widened as he let out a gasp, "Don't tell me-!" Sam looked at Abigail for confirmation as she nodded with a grin on her face. "Our precious lil' Sebby's in looove!" She wrapped her arms around Sebastian and gave him a squeeze. Sebastian groaned and pushed her away while she continued to laugh.
"No it's- That's not-!" Sebastian tried to argue but got abruptly cut off by Sam giving him a tight hug, "Holy shit, Seb! Who's this lucky person who gets to date your anxiety riddled ass?" Sam asked him with a gleam in his eye.
Sebastian pushed Sam away before thinking it over for a second. He considered lying right then and there but then he remembered that he just told Abigail and he knew she'd call him out on lying right to Sam's face. 
Plus if he lied to Sam and got caught, Sam would act all dramatic and try to use it as a way to guilt Sebastian into buying Joja-Colas for him again.
And he didn't feel like wasting his money like that.
Sebastian stared at Sam for a few seconds, seeing how Sam's eyes sparkled in anticipation before finally speaking up. "I'm… I'm going to ask out Luna."
Sam let out a gasp, his left hand covering his mouth as his eyes widened in shock, while his right found its way onto Abigail's shoulder to keep himself stable. 
"Wow, Seb! Luna? You're… gonna ask her out??" Sam's hand lowered from his mouth to rest on his chest as if he were in shock, the grin on his mouth saying otherwise. "Yeah I already knew that."
Seriously!?
"Wh- How the fuck did you both know?" Sebastian finally put his hood back down and crossed his arms as Sam and Abigail both laughed. "Sebastian we've known for so long– It's so obvious that it'd kinda be sad if we didn't!" Sam gave his friend a pat on the shoulder as Sebastian scoffed. "What do you mean 'it's obvious'? No it wasn't!" He rolled his eyes, "How long did you two even know?"
"About three months."
"What're you talking about? I've only liked her like that for one month!"
Silence filled the room as Sam and Abigail stared in shock before they both burst out with hysterical laughter again. "Holy shit!" Sam gasped for air, "We knew you had a thing for Luna before you did!" He leaned against Abigail for support again as Abigail laughed as well. "Oh my god!" She wiped tears from her eyes, "When you two get together I'm so telling her about this!".
"Like hell you are! And- And besides! She might reject me, so there's no guarantee that we'll start dating!" Sebastian scrunched his nose as Sam only started laughing harder, "Dude! No way you can't see how into you she is!"
Sam clasped his hands as he then began to do his best impression of Luna. "Why- Sebastian! Of course I'll listen to you ramble about coding when I know absolutely nothing about it! Of course I'll watch these gorey movies with you despite hating horror with a passion! Oh Sebastiannn! There's no other seats available by the fire! Can I sit next to you in a way where we’re really close togetherrr?"
Sebastian watched, unamused as ever, as Abigail then joined in. Making sure to move her bangs to mimic his hairstyle by covering one eye as she lowered her voice. "Why, of course, Luna! Luna, would you like to practice the flower dance routine with me despite the fact I hate it with a passion? Yes of course we can play some games on my TV, Luna! We're gonna have to sit on my bed though– Hey Luna, do you need any help around the farm despite the fact I burn easily and I hate being outside and would never help my other friends like this?"
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They both laughed as Sebastian grabbed a nearby newspaper and rolled it up, whacking them on the head with it, "Okay, okay, god. I get it. Knock it off." 
Sam cleared his throat, "Anyway– I'm more surprised you're actually going with the traditional way of asking someone out in town. You didn't really seem like the type." Sebastian shrugged as he looked back to the flowers, "I mean, I didn't even consider the tradition for asking her out. I just knew she loved flowers, so I was trying to pick out a bouquet of her favorites…" He pursed his lips again, why couldn't he just remember the damned flower's name!?
"Buut…" Abigail spoke up for him, "The thing is, he forgot what her favorites were, so now I'm trying to help him at least pick out one that's at least something she'd like,". Sam's mouth formed an 'o' as he looked at the flowers as well.
"... Welllll- I don't know her favorites either, but I can help!" Sam gave him a grin and a pat on the back, "It can't be that hard! Just- Get a bunch of flowers that seem like something she'd be into! That's not that difficult, right?" He walked over to the display and opened his mouth to speak. "Wait- Sam, no-!" Abigail gasped as Sam quickly turned away whilst sneezing. Abigail quickly dragged him further away from the flowers as he dug through his pocket for a tissue. Sebastian grimaced as Sam blew his nose. 
"Yeah, uh… Thanks for the offer, but maybe you shouldn't be anywhere near those." Sebastian gave him a pat on the shoulder as Sam nodded. "Good idea." Sam walked further back and gave them a thumbs up. "I'll just send encouraging thoughts from this corner!". Abigail gave him a thumbs up in return before turning her attention back to Sebastian. 
"Alright, plan B time." She lifted up a manual Pierre left laying near the flowers as she smiled at Sebastian. "Dad left this list of flower names here, so how about I read out the names and you'll see if you can recognize them from what she told you!". Sebastian and Sam both stared at the girl, which she only responded with a scoff as she put it back down, "Well, I dunno how else you expect to remember it!" She crossed her arms while Sebastian went back to staring at the flowers.
Sam hesitated before walking over again. "Hey, what about those?" He pointed towards a bouquet of tulips, "I'm pretty sure I've seen those around her farm before, so she's gotta at least like them, right?" Sam watched as Sebastian shook his head, the blonde's shoulders slacking as he let out a groan. "Sebastian, you can't seriously be acting this picky when you don't even know what she likes!" 
"But I want her to really love it!" Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. He could really go for a smoke right about now… Sebastian looked up at his friends again, watching as they both stared at him, realizing just how important this was for him, before their expressions softened.
Sam's eyes scanned his face before giving him a smile, "Okay… I get it, this is important to you. How about you pick something based on what she likes? Like- What's her favorite color?" Sam asked, picking up the flower list Abigail set down a while back. 
"I'm not sure…" Sebastian stared blankly ahead of him, "I never really do small talk so I've never asked her anything like; 'hey what's your favorite color?'," He shrugged as Abigail hummed, "Well… She always wears that top that has pink and blue on it, maybe her favorite colors are those?".
Sam nodded, looking at the bouquets with a small frown, "Well that'd be a safe bet, but there aren't really any bouquets with both of those colors," He pointed to some, "A lot are just pink but there's not that many blue ones, let alone pink and blue."
They all stood there in silence for a bit, all thinking it over. 
Abigail let out a gasp as she snapped her fingers, "I got it!" She grinned at the two, now confused, men as she walked over to grab two bouquets. 
"How about I pick out two random bouquets, and then you can tell me which ones that you think Luna would most likely love more! Then, I can put the other one back and pick out another!" She said with confidence, "It's an elimination game!" 
Sebastian and Sam glanced at each other before shrugging. "Sure, I guess that'll work." Sebastian said as he watched the purple haired girl quickly grab two bouquets before turning around and presenting them. 
"Tadaaa!" She held out the bouquets as Sebastian looked at them. One of them looked to be a light pink Fairy Rose bouquet. He swore he recognized it from Luna's farm last year, she must've grown it back then around her farmhouse. The other bouquet were mostly Sunflowers, with a few smaller flowers that he didn't know the names of. 
Sebastian thought about it for a second before pointing to the Fairy Rose, "I think she'd like those more." He watched as Abigail nodded and placed the sunflowers back. 
Huh, maybe this might actually be the plan that works. 
Sebastian watched as Abigail grabbed another bouquet, this one being way more vibrant than even the sunflowers. 
"What even are those??" Sebastian raised an eyebrow to her as she turned back and looked at the name above the price. "Uhhh," she squinted her eyes, "Tiger Lilies." She turned back to him. 
Sebastian paused, his brain trying to remember where he heard that name from, did she mention it before?
Oh wait-
Sebastian watched as Luna tended to her flowers. "So," He watched as she looked up at him before he continued, "Any idea on what flowers you're gonna plant next?" He asked as she stood up, wiping the dirt on her hands off on her apron. 
"Ah, not yet… I wanted to plant these pretty flowers that grew outside my old apartment building, Tiger Lilies, but it turns out that they're poisonous to cats! And I don't wanna risk harm with Solar since she wanders out here frequently to nap with the chickens." She sighed as she wiped the sweat off her cheek, "I didn't know Lilies were poisonous to cats… Did you? It's such a shame too! They're so pretty…"
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He definitely shouldn't get the bouquet of Lilies for her then.
Sebastian grimaced, "Yeah no- That'd be a horrible choice." He watched as Abigail tilted her head, looking back at the Lilies. "Really? I thought she'd like these."
"She told me that Lilies are poisonous to cats."
"Oh shit– really?"
"Yeah."
Sebastian watched as Abigail quickly put the bouquet back. "Yeah I uh- don't think she'd like it if you killed her cat." Sam patted Sebastian's shoulder. Sebastian flicked his hand away, "Wow really? You don't say." He stuffed his hands back into his pockets as Abigail picked out another bouquet. At least they were getting somewhere with this plan. 
Ding!
The trio tensed up, their heads quickly snapping to look at who entered the store, just hoping it wasn't Luna. 
"Ah, hello Evelyn!" Pierre's voice rang out.
They all let out a sigh of relief as Evelyn walked past, most likely not even noticing the trio. Abigail twirled a piece of her hair with her fingers, "Wow, we all just kinda tensed up there huh?" She laughed as Sam spoke up, "Yeah," He scratched the back of his neck, "I didn't think I was gonna freeze up like that! Thank god it wasn't Luna though, she definitely would've noticed us."
Abigail turned to go pick out another bouquet again as she continued to speak, "I completely forgot that it's around this time that Evelyn comes in to get seeds for the community garden around this time, I might need to go help her out if she needs certain things. Sam, can you step in for me if that happens?" She asked as Sam grimaced.
Wait a second…
"Abby, do you want me to sneeze on all the flowers or something?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes at her as she laughed, "It would be kinda funny!" She shrugged as Sam gawked, "No it wouldn't!".
"Hold on, I'll be right back." Sebastian quickly left his two friends behind as he walked over to Evelyn. "Hi Evelyn." He waved to the old woman as she smiled at him, "Ah! Hello, Sebastian! What brings you out here?" She asked as he nervously fidgeted with the fabric of his hoodie again. "Ah- Well, uh… I was hoping to get a gift for Luna, since she's done so much for everyone in town! And, um-" He picked at the skin by his nails as he continued to speak, "I wanted to give her some flowers… But I don't really uh- know what she likes… So, I was just wondering if you knew, since I know you two talk a lot." He stumbled with his words as he felt his throat tighten up. God, he did not enjoy talking with people.
Evelyn nodded understandingly as she gave it a thought, "Ah… I think she's mentioned to me that she loves Carnations, Fairy Roses too. They were her grandmother's favorites as well, funnily enough!" The woman sighed happily as she reminisced, "Ah, I remember when Mariana would tell me all about those two flowers… Maybe I should plant those when they're back in season?" She shook her head gently before turning her attention back to Sebastian. 
"I think if you gave her some Carnations, she'd absolutely adore it," She gave him a smile as she gently took his hands.
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"She's a very kind woman, she takes after her grandmother a lot… So make sure not to break her heart, alright dear?" She gave him another smile before letting go of his hands and walking away to go to the seed aisle. 
Sebastian stood there for a second, blinking twice as his mind went blank. 
Was everyone seriously more aware about how he felt more than him?
He let out a sigh before walking back over to the bouquets and taking a look at the names, ignoring Sam and Abigail watching him as they whispered between each other. His eyes scanned the rows as they finally landed on what he was interested in. 
White Carnations. 
He took a deep breath before picking it up and looking at it closer. Making sure the petals weren't wilted and that it looked perfect, he stared at it again. 
It looked…
Bland. 
He didn't really know much about flowers but even he knew that it didn't really have anything impressive with it all being white. 
Abigail must've sensed his disappointment as she spoke up gently, "Ah… Seb? If you want, then uh- We can actually make it more custom by adding in the Fairy Rose that we looked at earlier. The pink might add a nice contrast to the white!" She took the bouquet from his hands and placed both down on a nearby table before pausing, her lips pursed. "I'll have to go get my mom to do this, she makes all the arrangements anyway, but it shouldn't take long! And it won't cost extra!" She said as she quickly ran off, leaving the two men standing there.
Sam cleared his throat and turned to Sebastian. "So… ah…" He rocked back and forth on his heels, "When are you gonna ask her out?" He watched as Sebastian shifted, his eyes fixated on the bouquets. "I'm… I'm not sure. She seems really busy, I kinda forgot how busy she gets during this season so I might just ask her out during one of our hangouts at her house?" He shrugged, Sam stared at him. 
"Wait- How frequently do you two hang out again?"
"I dunno, every saturday night?"
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"... And... what do you two usually do?" He watched as Sebastian shrugged, "We usually just watch a couple of movies and talk about whatever." He paused before speaking up again, "Actually, it's more like I watch the movies. She usually ends up falling asleep midway through and I'm just stuck there because she's using me as a pillow or something." 
Sebastian looked to his friend, who looked very amused by what was told to him. 
"Sebastian. Are you sure you weren't having dates?" Sam tilted his head, a grin slowly creeping its way onto his face. 
The two of them stared at each other, Sebastian's face getting warmer and warmer by the second before he broke eye contact and stared at the ground. "Sam, why are you still here?" Sam shrugged as he waved to Caroline, who was following Abigail over. "I'm here as moral support for my best friend." He said, as if it were obvious, "Plus, it's kinda funny."
"Well you're doing a pretty bad job at being moral support." Sebastian ignored Sam's offended gasp as he looked up and waved to Caroline as well as she smiled at the two before taking a look at the flowers.
"Alright, I'll see what I can do with this, it'll probably take at the very most ten minutes. Sebastian, do you want to watch and see if you like the arrangements?" She asked as she took the flowers out of the paper and pulled out a fresh sheet for the new arrangement, placing it down in a temporary vase and carefully placing the flowers in one by one. Sebastian stayed silent as he watched, giving a nod if Caroline asked his opinion on how it was going as Sam and Abigail just stayed further back, talking between themselves.
After a bit of careful placement, the bouquet was soon done. Caroline pulled it out of the vase and wrapped it in fresh paper before handing it over to Sebastian. "Alright, how do you like that? Do you need any adjustments to the flowers?" She brushed her hands off on her skirt as he looked it over, a very slight smile grazing his lips. "I think this is good… Thanks."
Caroline gave him a smile, "Of course," hummed as she started cleaning up her workspace, "Oh! Pierre will probably tell you this when you're checking out, but these bouquets will stay fresh and good looking for about a week. After a week, they'll start to wilt. It most likely won't be noticeable until about two days after the week is over, give or take, but you'd still better hurry and give the bouquet to Luna before it wilts. Of course, it will last longer in water if you have a vase for it at home. That'd probably be the best option if you do."
Sebastian nodded as she spoke, "Yeah, okay… I'll be sure to- … wait what-" Sebastian's mind went blank as he processed what she said about Luna as she only smiled and walked back into her house. Sebastian turned to Sam.
"Sam. Be honest with me."
"Hm?" Sam turned his attention from Abigail to Sebastian, noticing the man's embarrassed expression. 
"By, 'it's so obvious that you're into Luna', exactly how obvious do you mean?"
Sam shrugged, "I dunno, it was just kinda just- there- Like, when you'd text me at around midnight asking me what you should respond to her text with when you normally don't care much about your responses," He continued to explain, "And whenever she'd walk into the room and go over to you you'd immediately start smiling and you'd listen to every single thing she says. You'd also do things like offer your umbrella or jacket if it was raining or if it were cold." 
Sam watched as Sebastian's expression softened before starting up again, "It's a bunch of little things, but I think everyone can kinda tell how happy she makes you. Plus, you've even commented a few times on how you feel more energized when she's around," He ran a hand through his blonde hair as Sebastian's grip on the flowers tightened. "Do you…" He hesitated, "Do you really think she feels the same way?" He asked as his eyes bore into the flowers. 
Sebastian felt a hand place itself on his shoulder as he looked up and met eyes with Sam, who gave him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, from what I can tell, she's just as into you as you’re into her." He grinned as Sebastian took a deep breath. 
"Okay, I'll figure out how to tell her when I get home." Sebastian watched as his two friends high fived. "Fuck yeah, dude!" Sam wrapped his arms around Sebastian, careful to not crush the flowers, "You've got this!".
Abigail laughed while watching the two, "Look at you, Seb!" She grinned at him, "Making the first move! Ah- You really are all grown up! It brings a tear to my eye!" She wiped away a fake tear as Sebastian finally laughed, feeling more confident now compared to how he felt just a few minutes ago, "Come on… This isn't that big of a deal." He pushed Sam away as Sam shook his head, "It is, though! Just think of it, Sebastian. You and Luna, living on that farm, maybe with some kids-"
Sebastian quickly cut him off with a whack to the forehead, rolling his eyes as Sam only grinned at him, "You're a bit ahead of yourself there. We'll probably just test out dating before doing anything official yet, let alone talk about kids." He watched as Sam shrugged, "You never knoww-! Ow!" Sam rubbed the back of his head, shooting a glare at the woman who slapped his arm, who only smiled at him before turning her attention to Sebastian. "He's probably only this excited because we placed a bet on who'd confess first and he's winning right now, don't mind him!" She said as she started to push Sebastian over towards the checkout. 
"You what??" Sebastian watched as Abigail dismissed him by waving her hand, "Nothing, nothing!" 
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She led him over to the counter before giving him a quick hug "Good luck, Sebastian," She smiled before running back over to Sam.
Sebastian only let out a nervous sigh as he placed the bouquet on the countertop. Pierre scanned the bouquet before looking at Sebastian, "Is that all you'll be buying?". Sebastian only nodded, his throat feeling too tight to speak. Everything sounded muffled as the nerves finally set in on what he was doing, he could somewhat make out that Pierre was telling him about how to take care of the flowers. Luckily Caroline already told him about that, otherwise he'd definitely not know what to do since he practically zoned out whatever Pierre was saying.
"That'll be 200G."
Sebastian paused, processing what was said before pulling out his card and swiping it through the scanner as Pierre cleared his throat, catching his attention. "If you'd like, I can put the bouquet in a bag so it's more discreet," He offered. Sebastian stood there for a second, thinking it over before nodding, "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Thanks.".
Pierre nodded as he carefully placed the bouquet in a bag before handing it over to Sebastian, "Good luck." Pierre waved goodbye to him as Sebastian walked out the door, passing by Abigail and Sam without saying a word. The sun immediately glaring down on him as he squinted, looking around to see if Luna was around.
He took a deep breath before taking the long walk back to his house. Hoping that Luna wasn't there to buy something from his mom. 
The walk home was uneventful, by the time he arrived his mom already closed down the shop so there was no way Luna would've been there which he was definitely thankful for, as he was able to sneak back into his room unnoticed.
He placed the bag with the bouquet under his desk as he then collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to take off his shoes as he just laid there. 
He pursed his lips together as his eyes stared straight into the wall, his mind racing as it all sank in. 
He was going to confess to her.
Sebastian felt his face heating up, his eyebrows furrowed as he thought about it more. 
What if she rejected him?
What if she didn’t want to be friends anymore?
Has he just been getting the wrong signals?
What if-
DING!
Sebastian rolled onto his back as his hand dug through his pocket and pulled out his phone, flipping it open, his eyes focused as he saw the notification.
1 NEW MESSAGE
He paused, assuming it was Sam, before opening up his texts and seeing who it was. 
Luna. 
Perfect timing as ever. 
He paused before opening her text message, there was an image attached.
'Look!! Solar has me trapped :c'
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The image attached showed a blurry picture of a small blonde kitten laying on  Luna's shoulder, her face is barely visible from the top corner but his eyes could make out that she was smiling. As Sebastian processed what was happening another text was sent. 
'She's never done this before! I think she finally likes me :D You're no longer gonna be her favorite person anymore!! hehe >:3'
He smiled as he quickly typed back to her, 
'It's not my fault that she just likes me more than you, I'm not the one who tries to give her baths.'
He his arm fell limply to the side of his head as the phone began buzzing again, must've struck a nerve with that, he laughed as his other arm draped itself over his eyes.
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His mind started to wander, thinking about his concerns about confessing to Luna. Why was he getting so worked up about this?
Why this of all things?
He was never one to hesitate over taking risks. 
He bought his motorcycle on a whim when he was seventeen and he pierced the majority of his piercings by himself. All those worked out just fine (except his first piercing, which did get infected.) So why was he so worried about this? 
He pursed his lips, his empty hand tightly being curled into a fist. 
The worst she could do is say no, and even then, it probably wouldn't be a harsh rejection either. She's a nice person, she wouldn't be hurtful about it. 
Sebastian turned his head and stared at the phone in his hand as he thought about what Sam said to him earlier about Luna feeling the same way. 
He did have a feeling that she was getting a crush on someone, but maybe he should see if he could question her a bit on it just to make sure before he screwed anything up. He considered himself decently observant despite what his friends said. He was sure that he’d be able to tell what her reactions meant to certain things he'd do. 
He took a deep breath as he moved his arm so his phone was hovering over his face and started typing without a second thought. His thumb hit send without even reading it over so he wouldn’t get second thoughts as his eyes bore into the screen ahead of him. 
'Hey, do you want to hang out tomorrow? If you're not busy, that is.'
He stared at the message, his brain screaming at him for actually going ahead with the plan he so messily came up with. 
What were the chances she’d say yes? She’s very busy with her farm this season, so there’s no way that–
DING!
'Yeah sure!! I should be done with my work around the afternoon like usual, should I come over then?'
'Yeah.'
Sebastian quickly threw his phone to the opposite side of his bed as he shoved his face into a pillow, his face felt like it was on fire. His hands buried themselves in his hair as he cursed himself out, silently thanking the fact that his pillow muffled him. 
He lifted his head, his eyes staring at the bag with the bouquet in it as it sat there taunting him. He felt as if this was one of the biggest risks he's ever taken in his entire life. He didn't want to screw this up and lose her as a friend. 
But with the off chance that she might like him back the way he liked her,
Then maybe this was a risk worth taking.
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raaorqtpbpdy · 3 days
Text
Creepy Carl
Danny is not fond of his parents' old ghost hunting friend that's come to pay them a visit for the week.
For the prompts: Jack and Maddie invite an old ghost hunting buddy (not Vlad) to stay in their guest room for the week. Expecting to catch up with their good ole pal, they're a little confused when this ghost hunter just keeps asking questions about their son, Danny [from @ectoblastfromthepast], and After the accident, Danny no longer has a shadow, and he isn't the first person to notice its absence. [from TheSilentBard]
Fair warning, Danny calls the old ghost hunting buddy 'Creepy Carl' for a reason. It may not be sexual in any way, but he is still very much creeping on a child, and I think y'all should be aware of that going in.
Read also on AO3
[Warning for uncanny valley elements, and (non-sexual) inappropriate behavior by an adult toward a minor]
How many 'old ghost hunting buddies' did his parents have? Danny wondered as they introduced them to one Anderson Carl. First Vlad, and now this guy?
Apparently, after college and before Jazz was born, the two of them had gone on many a ghost hunt with Mr. Carl. Now, he had his own paranormal investigation blog with a pretty decent readership, and he had come to Amity Park to do a piece on the town, which of course meant he needed a place to stay in town while he was doing research.
Luckily, he had a couple of old buddies with a guest room who happened to live right where the action was, and when he told them he was coming to town, they eagerly invited him to stay in said guest room for the whole week he was planning to stay. They thought it would be a great chance to catch up with their good ole pal, but Danny was wary the second he laid eyes on the man.
Anderson Carl wasn't as tall as Jack, as hardly anyone was, but he still loomed over Danny at a solid six feet tall, probably a few inches taller than that. He had close-cropped, dirty blond hair, and dark gray eyes like angry storm clouds, they even seemed to light up with electric curiosity as Danny watched the man, and the man also watched him.
"Welcome to Fenton Works," Maddie greeted him cheerfully. "That's our son, Danny. Our daughter Jazz is out tutoring right now, but she'll be back in a few hours."
"Nice to meet you, Danny," Mr. Carl said, and smiled.
The smile was perfectly ordinary, but Danny couldn't help feeling a sinister chill when it was directed at him. Maybe it was to too-white teeth, or the way it stretched his chapped lips so tightly they looked like they might crack, but Danny didn't like it.
"Uh... sure," Danny said cautiously. "Sorry, but I've got homework to do, so I'm gonna go."
He could feel those dark eyes following him all the way up the stairs, and when he closed his bedroom door behind him, he felt like Mr. Carl couldn't be leaving town soon enough. A whole week of this already sounded unbearable.
The next morning, when Danny got dressed and left for school, Mr. Carl was already awake, and sitting at the kitchen table, typing on his laptop. The laptop, too, was a dark grey, but it had a sticker on it that said UncannyCarl.com in bright red letters designed to look like they were partially obscured by smoke.
"Good Morning, Danny," the man greeted, with that same unsettling smile from the day before. "Off to school?"
"Yeah, it's Monday, so..." Danny trailed off. He took an orange out of the bowl on the counter for breakfast, not taking his eyes of the man before him. "Is that your blog, Mr. Carl?" he asked. "Uncanny Carl dot com?"
"That's right," the man confirmed. "Uncanny is something of a synonym for paranormal, but really the name is based on... are you familiar with the uncanny valley effect?"
"Never heard of it," Danny said.
"The uncanny valley effect is when you see something that looks human in most respects, but it's just slightly off enough to make your brain send out warning signals that it's not human, and you shouldn't be fooled by it," Mr. Carl explained. "Often times, you aren't consciously aware of what detail your brain registers as wrong that's causing the uncanny valley effect, whether it's that their arms are just slightly too long, the shape of their face is abnormal, or they don't have a shadow. Your brain notices it, even if you don't."
Danny couldn't help thinking that this guy was a little uncanny valley himself, but he thought it would be rude to say out loud, and he didn't want to piss off his parents' creepy guest.
"That's fascinating Mr. Carl, but I gotta get to school."
"Oh, and you can drop the 'Mr', by the way," he said. "Everyone just calls me Carl, even though it's my last name. In school, people used to joke that my parents must've but my name backwards on my birth certificate."
Danny just furrowed his eyebrows, shook his head, and left the kitchen, along with Creepy Carl, behind him as he headed out the front door to school.
Between classes, he caught Sam and Tucker up on his new house guest.
"Great, because all you need is another ghost hunter living under your roof," Sam said sardonically.
"I know, right?" Danny agreed. "At least this one's only staying until Saturday, but he's already creeping me out. I feel like he's constantly watching me whenever we're both in a room together. It's weird."
"Do you think he noticed something about you?" Tucker asked. "I mean, you don't know anything about this guy. What if he's actually a better ghost hunter than your parents?"
"It's not hard to be," Sam scoffed.
Danny ignored her, choosing instead to answer Tucker's question. "I'm not sure, but... maybe? He was talking about something called the uncanny valley effect, which he explained as being able to recognize when something that looked human wasn't, I guess. Something like that, anyway. He was just explaining the name of his blog, but he might've meant it as a warning that he was onto me.
"If you ask me, he's the uncanny valley one, though."
Jack and Maddie had been excited to show their old friend around their (relatively) new lab, especially the Fenton Ghost Portal. Carl seemed suitably interested in all of it, and he listened as they caught him up on their lives since he'd parted ways with the couple, but the whole time he seemed a bit... distracted.
Back when they were fresh college graduates, Carl had been an eager note-taker, his pencil hardly stilling on the pad of yellow lined paper he always carried with him. But now, he was hardly taking any notes at all. Even when he was staring at the portal between this world and the next, he only scribbled down a few sentences before twirling his pencil idly between his fingers.
They asked him about what he'd been up to since they last saw him, and he told them, but he was remarkably brief. He mentioned that he'd gone solo for a bit before deciding to start a blog, and he'd been running that ever since, writing the occasional opinion piece for local newspaper to get some supplemental income.
He'd finished talking about himself in under a minute, and even when asked, he didn't seem keen to elaborate on any particular investigation of his over the last sixteen years. All he said was that they could read about it all on his blog.
That wasn't the end of his strange behavior, because the next thing he asked about was Danny.
Jack and Maddie were of course very eager to brag about their kids, especially Jazz, but when they started to do so, Carl said they were getting off track, and he was really curious about Danny.
He asked them how old Danny was, if he was at all reclusive, or short-tempered, if they'd ever noticed him acting particularly odd or cagey.
They answered of course, seeing no reason not to. Carl was their friend after all, and they trusted that he didn't have any bad intentions when it came to their son—and if he did, they wouldn't hesitate to beat his ass and hand him over to the police—but surely he didn't. They were still confused though. Especially because, since the conversation turned to Danny, Carl's pencil hadn't stopped moving even once.
"What's with all the questions about Danny?" Jack asked. "I thought you came here to investigate ghosts."
"Oh, no real reason," Carl replied with a casual shrug. "Just... a bit of a hunch. I won't bother you with it unless I happen to find proof." Then he asked, "Have you even noticed that the air feels colder around Danny, or that standing next to him gives you an uncomfortable buzzing sensation under your skin?"
It was a odd question... but even odder was that neither Jack nor Maddie were actually sure of the answer. They worked with ghosts all the time so of course they felt sensations like that, but... neither could remember if they'd felt them around Danny... nor could they say for sure that they hadn't.
As Carl continued his line of questioning, a feeling of disquiet settled in on top of their confusion. After a point, they asked if he might want to hear about some of the recent ghost incidents around town, rather than just spending all day talking about their fourteen-year-old son.
Carl looked at them in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowed as if he might challenge them and insist. But then his lips quirked up in a smile, and he agreed to the subject change without resistance.
It wouldn't be the last time he asked about Danny that week though. He would stop, when asked, but by and by, the topic of Danny would always come up again, and when they told him about Danny's accident with the Fenton Portal a few months before, he seemed particularly intrigued.
It had been three days since Creepy Carl took up residence in the Fenton guest room, and Danny could confidently say that he hated the guy. He'd suspected as much from day one, but now that it was Wednesday, Danny had confidently confirmed that Creepy Carl almost never looked away from Danny when the two of them were in the same room, and it was seriously freaking Danny out.
At home, Danny was spending almost all his time in his bedroom to avoid running into the guy. Unfortunately, his bedroom shared a wall with the guest room, and just knowing the guy was right on the other side of the wall was causing Danny to lose sleep.
Still, Creepy Carl never did anything more than just watch him. At least, not until very late Friday night, or very early Saturday morning. Danny never did know which was more correct. His discomfort proved to be well founded when, around one in the morning that night, he awoke to a bright light being shined on his face.
Danny put a hand up to block the light and sat up to see what was causing it.
He wasn't sure if she should be surprised or not when he made out the silhouette of Anderson Carl shining a flashlight directly at his face. Danny was pretty sure his bedroom door had been locked. Ever since Carl started staying the room next door, Danny had been making sure to lock it. Obviously that had been a futile endeavor.
"What the hell, Carl?" Danny groaned. "Just... just what the hell?"
"What are you?" Creepy Carl asked creepily.
"What do you mean what am I? I'm a freshman."
"A freshman without a shadow?"
"What?"
"Look behind you?"
Danny was hesitant to take his eyes off the creep in front of him, but curiosity got the better of him and he turned.
On the wall behind him was a circle of light from Carl's flashlight. For a moment, Danny didn't register what he was supposed to be seeing, then as the tiredness in his brain started to lift slightly, he realized. He was supposed to be seeing his shadow behind him.
It wasn't there.
He snapped his head back around to look at Carl, and jumped with a start when he realized that the man had taken several steps closer to Danny's bed when he wasn't looking, in absolute silence, and without any movement of the flashlight in his hand. He was now knelt next to the bed, scrutinizing Danny with wide eyes.
"What are you?" Carl repeated.
He was close enough now that Danny could feel the warmth of his breath and lurched backwards in vague disgust and alarm.
"Uncanny Valley, right?" Danny said. "You would know better than I would. What are you?"
Danny had thought that Carl wasn't moving, but then he suddenly froze, and Danny realized the still he'd been a moment ago had been jittery and trembling, but the still he was no was statuesque and cold. He said nothing, and narrowed his eyes like he wasn't sure if he should, or if he should keep holding his cards close to his chest.
"I'll be honest, I never actually noticed I didn't cast a shadow until you pointed it out," Danny admitted. "But I've noticed plenty of uncanny valley around you."
"Like what?" Carl asked, though his tone didn't carry any doubt, just curiosity.
"Like... your smile is wrong. You teeth are too straight, and too white. Kinda like a TV news anchor, except I'm pretty sure there are too many of them." Danny saw Carl run his tongue over his teeth like he was counting them. Then he added, "And also, your lips are all cracked and gross, which isn't uncanny valley, but it is weird that you'd take such good care of your teeth and not even bother with some lip balm."
"Is that all?"
"Your eyes are weird, too," Danny continued. "Nobody's eyes are that color, and even if they were, they wouldn't spark like yours do, just tiny flashes of light. Human eyes don't do that. And your skin is too thin, I think, because your veins and stuff are all weirdly visible, even though you're not that pale."
Carl nodded slowly.
"And... how many teeth are people supposed to have?" he asked.
"I dunno," Danny said with a shrug. "I think, like, thirty, thirty-two, somewhere around there."
"Thanks for the tip," Carl said. "Your eyes flash, too, you know. Bright green. When your emotions are running high."
"Yeah, I know. I've been working on that."
"You're really not going to tell me, are you?" Carl stood, evidently resigned to not getting an answer. "I know you're not a human, and I know you're no ordinary ghost. You sure you won't even give me a hint?"
Danny gave him a derisive snort. "Will you?"
"No, I suppose not." Carl smiled then, and though it was dark, Danny could almost swear the number of teeth in his mouth had changed. "I guess we'll both just have to suffer in disappointment. Goodnight, Danny."
With that, he turned around and walked out of the room, not waiting for an answer.
Danny got up and went to check his door, to see if Carl had broken the lock to get in or something.
Not only was it not broken, it was still locked. Danny had seen the door open and close. He'd heard the doorknob twist. But it had somehow remained locked the whole time.
"Goodnight, Creepy Carl," Danny whispered.
He went back to bed, but didn't get a wink of sleep.
Creepy Carl left the following afternoon, much to Danny's relief.
He hoped that he would never have to see the man again, but somehow, he had a feeling he would. Someday, somewhere... when he least expected it.
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ivanzplaid · 2 years
Note
Hello I was wondering if you can do a possessive vance x male reader. if you want to and if you accept this type of stuff
adorable adorable adorable!! i believe he would be decently protective, he wants people to know youre his, and not to try anything :)
requests r open, masterlist is up!!
Vance Hopper x Male Reader!
Warnings: Uncomfortable Reader, Possessive/Protective Vance, Fluff, Happy Boyfriends
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The scent of pizza filled your nose as you stepped through the door, a little bell ringing above you. Your thumb rubbed against Vance's hand as he let you pick out a table, and following behind you once done. He, of course, sat across from you, he flaunted a casual demeanor while doing so, but you knew his heart was beating quickly just from seeing your eyes, his flushed cheeks gave it away.
Vance had planned this date the day before, toying at the idea & confirming it with you. He'd been pocketing change from the fights he won, and was putting it towards a date with you, wanting to take you out for lunch, something to calm your nerves he'd taken notice to. His mind knew you were stressed about school, you were overwhelmed with the work you were receiving. The stress leaked into your personal life, and he wanted to make your day a little better, and this is where it took you. Seated in your local pizza parlor, Vance rambling about what he might get, as you happily listened, hands perched under your chin to get the best view.
"Maybe we should get a large pizza, your pick, along with a soda we could split? You like coke, right?"
His voice came out quickly, but to you it was the perfect pace.
"Sure babe, that sounds great. I'm gonna head to the guys room quickly, but I'll be back in time soon,"
You leaned in forward, and pecked his forehead, the golden hair laid on it was soft on your skin. You saw his radiant smile as he nodded enthusiastically, leaning back in his seat, spreading out to relax. The last time you two had been on a date was weeks ago, you took him out to the arcade, a treat for defending you in an argument with the teachers. There, he admired you as you watched him play, concentrating on his pinball, monitoring so somebody wouldn't fuck it up for him, and he couldn't love you anymore than he did in that moment. Spending time with his boyfriend was something he couldn't get enough, he cherished it, you were all his, and you endorsed it.
Walking from the main area to the mens room was a short walk, but took a sharp right, a narrow hallway that included the mens & womens room. Infront of the womens room was a girl your age, leaning against the wall with a pocket game in hand. Hearing your heavy footsteps, she diverted her gaze from the game to you, and her body immediately perked up, heading towards you.
"Hey cutie! Over here!"
Her voice was high pitched, irritating your ears, and squinting your eyes. You knew Vance had been planning this, so you didn't want some idiot to ruin this for you, just trying to have a nice time with him. Pushing through her, you went to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, the lock gliding into place. You could hear her footsteps catch up, waiting outside the door for you, stalking outside the door, waiting.
Hastily washing your hands, you prepared yourself, putting your stress towards something useful. The metal handle was cold under your fingers as you tugged open, and who else but her meet you as soon as it opened.
"Hey, just the person I wanted to see!"
Her fingers trailed their way to your chest, but you pushed her away, breathing out a heavy sigh while you made your way back, however, she was persistent. Even as you walked, heading around the corner, and Vance now in sight, she tried to pick up your hand, or walk infront of your steps.
"Listen babe, I'm trying to give you a compliment, I'm sure your girlfriend won't mind."
Eyeing Vance, you raised your eyebrows, rolling your eyes before you made it to his side. What you expected was a glare sent her way, but Vance's hands snaked their way around your waist, pulling you side ways onto his lap, your legs dangling off the edge as you instinctually put your hands around his neck. One of his hands stayed loyal at your waist, supporting your weight, while the other lay on the back of the booth, showing confidence all around.
"The fuck do you want, huh?"
Your boyfriends voice was sharp, and came out almost like a bark back, showing the girl what the situation was.
"I just wanted to say hi to your little friend here bud, we were just having fun!"
You could feel his hands tighten around you, growing angrier the more she pushed. His chest began to move up and down with more force, and his face hardened. Vance wasn't fond of sharing much in his life, and you were no exception.
"If you don't fucking leave with your weird stalker shit, I'm going to make it so that the hospital can't identify who you even are, Bitch."
While spoken in a hushed tone, careful of making a scene, that didn't make his point any less clear, eyes stabbing into her like knives. The girl stayed standing, a look of shock overcame her, but eventually, after a fake step towards her, she left, exiting the parlor.
Vance watched her like a guard-dog as she left, leaving the taint of shame in the building, but it never affected him, the pride of being your saving grace was sweeter than anything, and as Vance's eyes met yours, the sweet, caring boy came back. He put his unoccupied hand to your cheek, grazing it softly, then raised his eyes at you.
"Ready to order, handsome?"
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trying to filter out most, if not all vance requests im getting!! my writing for this felt awkward so im sorry if it is💔💔
requests r open! masterlist is up :)
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arvensimp · 1 year
Note
may i request a lil something with arven and reader having a cofagrigus? :)
like! arven is making sandwiches for their pokémon and the reader just goes “oh yeah! can you add some of these to one of the sandwiches?” and proceeds to give him a handful of gold nuggets. i can imagine him being so confused and having NO idea that cofagrigus eats gold
This one took me a minute, but I hope you like it!
-
Pocket Things
Arven x Reader with a Cofagrigus, comedy with a hint of horror at the end (just a stranger things reference)
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You're aware that Arven is...uncomfortable with Cofagrigus. You don't blame him, really! You get it. It's kind of a weird pokemon, but you love it dearly, having raised it since it was just a little, weepy yamask. You just couldn't help but love it! The poor thing needed someone, and you were just the person to help!
So you and Cofagrigus became the best of partners.
That doesn't mean everyone else gets it though.
So you understand why Arven shies away when Cofagrigus floats a little too close or when its hands reach too far or fingers get too wriggly. The pokedex entries make it sound scary, but you know your pokemon, and you know it wouldn't hurt Arven for anything!
So, you decide to help foster a bit more of a loving relationship between the two. No matter what you tell Arven about how sweet it can be, you know he won't believe it until he sees it for himself with someone other than you.
Normally, you just feed Cofagrigus separately from the rest of the pokemon, since its eating habits are admittedly a little bizarre, but the quickest way to a pokemon's heart is through its stomach! Or, so you tell yourself.
While Arven is preparing everyone's sandwiches one day at lunch, you approach him with a heavy pocket. "Hey! Do you think you might be able to make a sandwich for Cofagrigus today?"
Arven pauses and looks to you. "Um. Yeah, sure... I didn't realize it ate? I'm sorry. I would have been feeding it this whole time if I'd known?"
"Oh, it does!" You laugh. "It's just a little different. Here!" You reach into your pocket and heft out a decent chunk of tiny golden nuggets. "Just add these to its sandwich. That's really all it eats anyway."
Arven takes the gold from you incredulously. "Are... Are you serious?"
You nod, smiling wide.
"How much money has this thing eaten?"
You laugh. "How much money have you eaten?"
He sighs. "....Fair enough, I guess..."
So Arven makes the first ever golden nugget sandwich.
Cofagrigus ignores the bread, lettuce, tomato, cheese, pickle, and condiments, but it loved the nuggets!
After that it trails along after Arven more and more when you two go picnicking and traveling around. Arven, for his part, really does try to be nice. He'll confusedly pet at the coffin or try to shake one of its ghostly hands, but truth be told, he really isn't sure how best to play with the pokemon, so he mostly just lets it float around him, mussing his hair or pulling at loose threads on his clothing, as friendly ghost types usually seem wont to do.
One night, the two of you are sleeping side by side in your sleeping bags in a nice little campsite when Cofagrigus decides it no longer wants to be in its ball. It goes and perches itself near Arven, poking him to wakefulness.
"Hm...? Wha?" He opens his eyes. "No, Cofagrigus. Not now, I don't have any gold..."
Cofagrigus pulls on him a bit, dragging him in his sleeping bag. Arven's eyes go wider, and he looks to you, fast asleep.
"Uh... Buddy, wake up... I don't like this."
You're still asleep. Cofagrigus, eyes unmoving and unblinking, seems to be dragging Arven somewhere further away, and he can't get out of his sleeping bag.
"Buddy, wake up!" He says louder. "Hey, hello! Time to wake up! Can you hear me? Wake up, buddy!" He looks back to Cofagrigus. "I don't like this!" Then he calls again to you. "Buddy, wake up!"
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starsurface · 2 months
Note
Hai! Been regressed all day because I’ve come down with a icky sickness and i dont feel so good :< Could I maybe get some Mk11 Kano Cg hcs of him looking after a sick/ill baby regressor?- ✨
No cause like, I've been sick for almost a week and it's only gotten worse, especially in the past two days >:(
There's some silly virus going around, and I'm sorry you caught it, darling :(
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<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
CG Kano w/ Sick Babyspace Regressor Hcs
⚔️ Kano, as much as I love him, isn't the best person
⚔️ Probably teased you for being sick when it wasn't that bad
⚔️ Like, come on, you aren't that sick, stop being all dramatic
⚔️ But when your symptoms began to worsen, he actually became super worried
⚔️ At first you just felt a bit icky, but now you can't feel half your face with how congested it is, your throats all scratchy, it hurts to talk, you're practically panting because you can't breathe through your nose
⚔️ ^ Apologies, I'm projecting, I feel incredibly icky rn
⚔️ He feels really bad that he didn't take your sickness seriously when he could have helped you when it wasn't that bad
⚔️ He feels even worse when you regress really tiny because of how icky you feel :(
⚔️ Don't you worry, Uncle Kano's gonna take good care of you now, Sweetheart
⚔️ Since your really tiny, he'll swaddle you in your favorite blankie and rock you, gently shushing your cries
⚔️ Kano's got a pretty tough inume system, so he doesn't get sick easily
⚔️ Because of this you get all the cuddles you could ever ask for
⚔️ Usually when you two cuddle he calls you a Clingy Koala but will die down his teasing because you feel icky and just want some lovin’
⚔️ Ans how could he make fun of you for that? Poor thing
⚔️ Kano, surprisingly, is a pretty decent chef, and will make you some bomb chicken noodle soup
⚔️ ^ I recommend Princess Chicken noodle soup, it makes me feel a bit better
⚔️ He'll spoon feed you so you don't spill anything by accident
⚔️ He'll get you some yummy Sprite and saltines if your feelings hungry
⚔️ Like, he'll get you actual food if you'd like, but those are some of the go to sick snacks he knows of
⚔️ Will not let you have munchies if you can't stomach anything though, he doesn't wanna make you throw up on purpose :(
⚔️ He'll clear his entire schedule just to make sure he can look after you
⚔️ Kanos not a very nice man, but he refuses to leave his bab’s side when they feel all icky like this
⚔️ Plus Kabal can do all the Black Dragon work for a few days <3
⚔️ Unfortunately, you might need to have some nasty medicine :(
⚔️ He'll get you some yummy water afterwards and cuddle you
⚔️ He knows some medicine doesn't taste great, but somehow all the yucky ones make people feel better quicker
⚔️ If your little enough to use diapers, he's more comforting about it than usual because your all sick
⚔️ If your throat hurts, he'll make you some warm milk or get you some throat medicine
⚔️ Is also a lot more patient than usual
⚔️ He knows your sick, and he knows you might be already sensitive than usual
⚔️ He also knows that crying because you couldn't find your hair tie isn't something that you'd usually do, but you better know he'll find that hair tie for you (he was probably sitting on it)
⚔️ Usually he'd encourage you to babble, laughing and having conversations with you
⚔️ But now you sound like Bi-Han, all raspy and almost drunk (very bad overall)
⚔️ So he probably expects you to go somewhat nonverbal, cradling you and letting you huff and cry into his chest
⚔️ It's never nice, feeling all icky and bad
⚔️ You'll never have to worry about going through it alone though, he'll become your clingy Koala
⚔️ He'll put on your favorite cartoons or movie, and you two will cuddle in bed
⚔️ He'll try to make you laugh by making jokes or jabbing at one of his friends
⚔️ But if you get irritated at them faster than usual, he'll stop
⚔️ It's no fun making a joke if you both can't laugh about it
⚔️ Kano isn't the best person to help you get better, since he doesn't actually know what he's doing half the time and is completely winging it
⚔️ But he's there for you, thick and thin
⚔️ Your his baby after all, you can't be sick alone, what kind if Dada would he be if he left you all alone? >:(
⚔️ He'll gently clean your face and shush you when you start apologizing
⚔️ There's so need to apologize, your body just feels a bit icky, Sweetheart, no need to be sorry
⚔️ If your too woozy or small to stand up, he'll carry you around so you can feel a bit better by brushing your teeth or taking a quick short
⚔️ Highly encourages sitting under a steamy shower so your face gets unclogged from all the bad stuff in it
⚔️ He'll even help you brush your teeth!! You really don't gotta lift a finger around this man, especially when you're this sick and small!!
⚔️ You becomes his new Teddy bear, and he becomes your new Teddy bear (and servant), that's how the world works <3
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
I hope you feel better!!! <3
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Note
56 and 59 with Lewis!! ❤️
56 - "Just marry me already,"
59 - "H-how long have you been standing there?"
this is adorable. 0 warnings
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"And I mean seven years is a long time right?" You paused to take a sip from the drink in your hand, grateful that you weren't the one not allowed to drink alcohol in the paddock. "Especially for someone in this industry, yeah?"
"Yeah," Charlotte agreed. You were having what was affectionately referred to as a 'Wag Club' meeting. It was exactly how it sounded, where a collection of the wives and girlfriends of the F1 drivers gathered in the paddock and got drunk together whilst the boys did whatever it was they did best.
"He has girls throwing themselves at him all the time - surely if he doesn't actually want me he can drop me? Why is he keeping me in this limbo?"
"I don't know, sweetie," Luisinha patted your hand affectionately. But you were on a roll by then.
"Like, I don't get it. One minute he's all domestic asking me to move in with him and telling me he loves me so much, the next he's gotten on a flight and is halfway around the world without telling me because something caught his fancy!" You loved Lewis with all your heart, and you'd follow him to the ends of the earth and back, there was no doubt about that. But you'd watch nearly all of your friends get married, and some even have babies with guys they'd not even known when you and Lewis had first started dating. It was fair to say you were starting to get a bit bitter and soaking your sorrows in gin with the only other women you understood your situation seemed like the best thing to do.
You sat quietly, swirling your glass in your hand and staring into the depths as Isa raised a similar point about Carlos.
"His dad drops hints all the time, it's like he's deaf," she giggled, her infectious personality pulling a smile out of you and you found yourself laughing along.
"I know right! I wish he'd just marry me already," there was a murmur of agreement from the girls around the table and then because you were girls, you burst into hysterical giggles at how you would meet every other Sunday throughout most of the year and whine about your privileged lives. Until Charlotte's eyes widened and her smile dropped. She looked like she'd seen a ghost.
She hadn't seen a ghost. She'd seen your boyfriend, Lewis fucking Hamilton, standing right behind you.
Your stomach sank through the floor and you had no interest in the rest of your drink.
"H-how long have you been standing there?" He wasn't smiling.
"We need to talk,"
Shit. Those four dreaded words never preceded anything good. You bid a quick goodbye to your friends who all sent you sympathetic good luck smiles as you stood and followed Lewis. He walked a few paces ahead of you, leaving you trailing behind him with your head down like a scolded puppy.
You didn't say anything until you'd walked all the way through the Mercedes block and up into his driver's room.
"Lewis, I'm so sorry-"
"Do you really think that?"
"What?"
"That I don't want you? That I'm just stringing you along?" You sighed and dropped your head into your hands for a second. This talk had been brewing for a while, or at least you felt like it had. It seemed funny that the hardest decision of your life was one you made in a split second as you decided you didn't want to hide how you felt anymore.
"I don't know, Lew. You're so inconsistent. One day I think you're taking me out to dinner to propose and the next you're on the other side of the planet without so much as a note," you swallowed hard because the next bit was even worse "And you're so famous. You could have any girl you want, whenever you want. It's stupid and it's childish but I get worried sometimes that you just see me as a good placeholder, you know? A nice enough girl with a decent career that the media will see as a good choice,"
He was looking at you like you'd just ripped his intestines out, his eyes scanning your face at lightning speed. You could physically see him deflate as you spoke your mind. His head dropped, his gaze focusing on his feet.
"I'm so stupid," he mumbled, and if you didn't know him inside you would have missed it. He turned away from you and started rummaging around in his wardrobe. You weren't sure what to do with yourself, but it didn't matter because you found yourself frozen to the spot. He turned around, a funny look in his eye you'd only seen a couple of times. "This isn't how I wanted to do this," he sighed
"Wha-" before you could even finish the question he sank down onto one knee, and your mouth dried up and your heart started pounding because holy shit he was holding a small black velvet box.
"I'm an idiot, and you don't have to say yes now,"
"Lewis..."
"I bought this at the start of the season," he explained, nodding to the box in his hand. "I was gonna do this properly, at dinner or something after I won my first race of the season. I just haven't won yet. That was dumb, I didn't need to win a stupid race to know I want to be with you for the rest of my life," you didn't know what to say, because then he was opening the box and holy shit that was the most beautiful diamond ring you'd ever seen in your life.
"Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?" He was rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, the way he did when he was nervous, and he was looking at you with those brown eyes virtually begging with you.
"Of course I will," you rushed out because it wasn't even a thought for you, you'd been dreaming of this day since your third anniversary when he'd planned the most elaborate picnic you'd ever seen and your best friends had been daft enough to convince you it was going to happen then.
"Oh thank god," his eyes closed and his chest heaved in relief and then he was standing up and pulling you towards him in one of the most passionate kisses of your life. You were breathless when he finally pulled away, your hands shaking as he carefully grasped your left one and slid the ring onto your fourth finger. The ring was a perfect fit, and it looked even better on you.
You felt like you were floating as he led you back into the paddock. You didn't go back to the girls, instead of walking hand in hand with Lewis straight to the driver's car park and the back exit, because you needed him in his hotel room right there and then.
The whole week after you were convinced it was a fever dream, every time you stared at your left hand, now adorned with the ring it felt like it wasn't your hand. You didn't believe it until the first paparazzi post came out, and there it was. A photo of you and Lewis out to dinner in your favourite restaurant in Monaco, the photo zoomed in on your hand where the ring was brightly reflecting the camera's flash.
It still took your mother calling you, screaming at you down the phone because how dare you let her find out in a silly magazine, and could you please come home at the earliest convenience because you had a wedding to plan.
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mariana-oconnor · 8 months
Text
The Bruce Partington Plans pt 3
Well last time Watson was told to bring a gun and a chisel, so things were heating up in the espionage arena. I hope he doesn't kill a dog this time.
It was a nice equipment for a respectable citizen to carry through the dim, fog-draped streets. I stowed them all discreetly away in my overcoat...
Watson, I don't know why you're deluding yourself that you're a respectable citizen. You're really not. And that's not an insult.
Also, the fact that the man can fit 'a jemmy, a dark lantern, a chisel and a revolver' discreetly in his overcoat is impressive and I 100% assure you that had it been a woman's overcoat he would not have managed it. A dark lantern is a clunky piece of kit and even the small versions seem pretty big. A jemmy is skinny, a chisel and a revolved will fit in a decent-sized pocket, but a dark lantern?
That's a pretty awesome overcoat, Watson
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"Then join me in a coffee and curacao."
Is that like a thing? Maybe it's because I dislike the flavours of both coffee and alcohol, or maybe it's because I think the only curacao I've ever seen is blue curacao, but that seems like a strange combination to me.
OK, research shows that you can in fact get coffee-flavoured curacao, so this isn't as weird as it seemed. I doubt they're using the blue curacao here, which makes me feel better. There's something about mixing something that bright blue into coffee that upsets my stomach just thinking about it.
“Have you the tools?” “They are here, in my overcoat.”
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“Could it not have been dropped from a bridge?” “I should say it was impossible. If you examine the roofs you will find that they are slightly rounded, and there is no railing round them."
I think I'd personally go with improbable rather than impossible, but sure.
"Now, suppose that a train halted under such a window, would there be any difficulty in laying a body upon the roof?”
...yes? You have to lift a dead weight out through a window. I doubt the train is that close to the window, and you're in the room, presumably, so I'd say that sounds difficult. Also you just said that you can see the windows from inside the carriage, so it could easily have been seen by passengers, but you wouldn't even necessarily know.
Is your window large enough to put the body out sideways, in which case two people could probably heave-ho it over onto the roof, but it would make a hell of a thump as it hit the roof. And how many windows in London are wide enough - and open wide enough - for a full size man to be thrown out of them sideways? But if you're pushing him out long ways, you're going to have to sort of bend him up at first so he doesn't flop down in the gap between the train and the window, but bridges the gap, then slide him over.
It sounds like a lot of work, is what I'm saying. Seems almost as possible as dropping a body onto a train from a bridge and the body staying on the train. Actually, that seems more likely to me, with the train roofs being curved, because if you drop it from above, you can aim for the centre of the roof, where the body can sort of balance itself over the curve, while if you're pushing the body on from the side, it's more likely to be weighted towards the side you're pushing it on from, so more likely to fall off.
Train carriages aren't exactly thin. If you're throwing it on sideways then getting it to a balancing point at the top of the curve is going to be more difficult. You'll have to lean all the way out. but long ways, you're going to be pushing a dead weight from one of the shortest sides - head or feet - with no real way to control the other end.
Really we need to conduct an extensive experiment to settle this.
“We must fall back upon the old axiom that when all other contingencies fail, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock. You can't just say something's impossible and then take that as written. That's not how possibility works. I bet you it's possible for a body to fall from a bridge, onto the top of a curved carriage and rest stably enough there that it won't fall off for a little while. Clearly it wasn't very stable because it did fall off eventually.
"...the idea of an amateur domiciliary visit would certainly never occur to him."
Such a polite way to say B&E.
“My dear fellow, you shall keep watch in the street. I'll do the criminal part."
I think that keeping watch would still make Watson an accessory to a crime, and therefore also a criminal in the eyes of the law. Not to quibble or anything.
And you were just saying how respectable you were earlier, Watson.
“I knew you would not shrink at the last,” said he, and for a moment I saw something in his eyes which was nearer to tenderness than I had ever seen.
...presented without comment...
"Let us walk,” said he. “Don't drop the instruments, I beg."
As if he could. How could you malign Watson's overcoat in such a way?
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The very next train roared from the tunnel as before, but slowed in the open, and then, with a creaking of brakes, pulled up immediately beneath us. It was not four feet from the window-ledge to the roof of the carriages.
...OK. It seems like the 4 foot must be down, not across. Even so, the train can't be right next to the building, there must be a bit of a gap. I'd say at least a foot.
So... from the window. This guy (possibly alone, possibly with a partner (perhaps a colonel)) took a dead body, and managed to get it not just to the edge of the carriage roof, but let's say the carriage is 8 foot wide, which seems to be roughly the narrowest possibility at the time from a brief online search. That means they got it ~5 foot to the centre of the carriage (including the gap between the train and the building), then over the top so it wouldn't immediately slide off.
Say Mr Cadogan West was about 170cm (the average height of a man 1896-1900 according to this site). That's just under 5'6". And to get him to a reasonable balancing point - let's say with 2 feet over the centre of the roof, that's 6 foot onto the roof, they're having to lean out the window... down 4 feet to get him there. If they're going sideways, they have to throw that body about 7 foot because they'd be throwing from inside the window. The drop would make it an easier throw, but it would also make a louder noise as body hits roof.
I'm sure it's possible. It just seems like a really bad plan. Also, human bodies are all floppy when they've just died, aren't they? That's got to be so difficult to move.
This is clearly what we are meant to accept has happened. But the logistics of doing it seems like it would have been farcical. Poor Mr Cadogan West's corpse just flopping around as they try to manoeuvre it this way and that.
“So far we are justified,” said he.
If you say so, Holmes. yes, the bloodstains prove it happened, but genuinely don't know how they managed it. Think of his arms flopping down, catching on the windowsill and the edge of the train, dead fingers knocking against the carriage window.
ALSO this is all happening in the smog.
Whatever. I have wasted too much time contemplating the logistics of this. It is not supposed to be examined so closely.
I thought Watson was supposed to be playing lookout...
It was a small tin cash-box which stood upon the writing-desk. Holmes pried it open with his chisel.
Did Holmes also bring a chisel? or is this Watson's chisel? Or did Watson bring Holmes' chisel? Or is it the communal chisel for all 221b Baker Street chiselling needs?
“Hoped to hear sooner. Terms agreed to. Write fully to address given on card. — Pierrot."
Ooh, commedia dell'arte reference. We love to see it. PIerrot's the sad clown guy, iirc. Not sure how that refers to any of our suspects.
Why is the spy keeping these in a tin box? That seems unnecessary. Clearly it is good for the plot. But he should just read the message, get whatever information is in it, then discard of the paper as anyone else would.
The area door of Oberstein's house had been left open the night before, and it was necessary for me, as Mycroft Holmes absolutely and indignantly declined to climb the railings, to pass in and open the hall door.
The guy barely walks anywhere and you're expecting him to climb over railings? This can't have come as a surprise to you, Watson.
With the shock, his broad-brimmed hat flew from his head, his cravat slipped sown from his lips, and there were the long light beard and the soft, handsome delicate features of Colonel Valentine Walter.
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Does anyone know what ACD's problem with colonels was? I have not been keeping a running tally, but this has got to be about the 5th time that a colonel in these stories turned out to be a horrible person. I mean, in The Silver Blaze he was just a dick, and in The Crooked Man he was the victim, but it turned out he was terrible and kind of had it coming. Elias Openshaw in The Five Orange Pips was a colonel, in The Engineer's Thumb the guy's pretending to be a colonel, then there's Colonel Sebastian Moran. That's five I can remember.
Holmes gave a whistle of surprise. “You can write me down an ass this time, Watson,” said he. “This was not the bird that I was looking for.”
Really? Because he had access to the keys and also his brother mysteriously vanished. Plus he tried to get you out of the house pdq after you started questioning him.
“Everything is known, Colonel Walter,” said Holmes. “How an English gentleman could behave in such a manner is beyond my comprehension."
Not to disagree with everything you say in this story, but we've seen plenty of English gentlemen behave in ways just as bad. I guess you're putting treason as the worst possible crime or something, but even so. You yourself had a whole-ass speech about how the countryside of England is littered with crimes. It's also littered with the landed gentry. You can't really be surprised by this.
"There he intervened, and then it was, Colonel Walter, that to treason you added the more terrible crime of murder.”
Oh no, you do think murder is worse than treason. Good for you. But also in that case, you've definitely seen English gentlemen do worse.
"It was so thick that nothing could be seen, and we had no difficulty in lowering West's body on to the train."
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Also the letters in the paper were from Oberstein? Not from Valentine, so... why on earth did he keep his own messages?
Oberstein, eager to complete the coup of his lifetime, came to the lure and was safely engulfed for fifteen years in a British prison. In his trunk were found the invaluable Bruce-Partington plans, which he had put up for auction in all the naval centres of Europe.
All's well that ends well - apart from poor Arthur Cadogan West who was only trying to do the right then and ended up murdered and framed for treason. I hope the government gave his family and fiancee some sort of reparations for the slanders against his name.
Colonel Walter died in prison towards the end of the second year of his sentence.
That's pretty quick, and ambiguous... he was quite young, wasn't he? Just 'died', nothing more than that? Hmmm.
This whole last bit reminds me of those 'where are they now' segments.
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slytherinshua · 9 days
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113 L. SEUNGJUN
genre. onf universe au (byubyu specifically). fluff. warnings. kissing. seungjun kinda overthinks a tad but reader sets him straight. seungjun is locked up for time travel. a brief mention of guns and a past wound ig? pairing. seungjun x fem!reader. wc. 1.5k. request. no. a/n. i'm pretty proud of this fic idk why skdjs onf lore fics are always so fun to write im still fascinated by their lore even tho i don't understand it too well lol but i try my best.
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The sound of metal clashing outside made a groggy Seungjun blink his eyes open. He had been locked up for over 48 hours now with no access to food. He was allowed a little water if he begged the android guards extra nicely. His throat was scratchy and dry from the time spent locked up despite the water supply. They certainly didn’t treat time travel criminals as nicely as escape rebels. 
Seungjun was sure he looked horrible by now. Or “a little bit scruffy around the edges”, as you would say, even the time when he had a gaping wound in his side. He missed the way you could make light of any situation right about now. He would do anything to have a reason to laugh again.
Seungjun was no stranger to the computer operated prison cells he was often shoved into after being caught. Years ago he had been thrown in for smaller crimes, but got out within a couple hours when he figured out the lock code while no one was looking. This time, it was a lot harder. They had upgraded their system; those damn robots learned quicker than the human brain could. 
He had almost accepted his fate of rotting in the small square room by the time 24 hours had passed, but he still kept out a sliver of hope. You were still out there and free, which meant you could still come to save him. 
He wanted to laugh whenever he found himself stuck in a situation where he had to rely on your good graces to get out. One of these days he was sure his sweet words and gentle kisses wouldn’t be enough to convey his thanks. You were sure to get sick of him eventually, right? He was always the one messing things up.
His pride didn’t entirely allow him to accept that you were better than him, though he knew in the back of his mind that you were. You were perfect wherever he was faulty and just as decent at the skills that he professed he excelled in. Maybe that was why you were perfect for each other— or, rather, why you were too perfect for him.
It was strange how the human mind always wandered back to the people they loved. So much time and energy was spent just reminiscing memories, and while he found it beautiful, he also acknowledged it as one of humanity's weaknesses. The androids certainly didn’t spend their hard-drive space with personal connections. They didn’t have anything to lose, and that was why it was so hard to win against them. 
Seungjun shook off the thoughts in his head and focused on the noises he heard from the corridor. From his watch, he knew it was deep in the night hours, a time when security usually lessened in numbers for recharge sessions. Now was as good a time as you were ever going to get if you were coming to save him. And, by another glance at the watch, Seungjun had a pretty good idea that you were.
The entire team’s locations were shared across the watches; a necessary safety measure for situations like now. The little red dot that showed your location was moving steadily closer to Seungjun’s, and that was when a shadow of a smile started to form on his face.
He stood up and walked to the edge of his cell, peaking out into the dark corridor while also being careful not to get too close to the electrically charged door. If he touched it, he would get shocks charging through his body— something he learnt the hard way. In order to escape, he’d have to take down the electricity system, but pulling off such a scheme without the android guards finding out was beyond his power with such limited resources. You, however, might just be able to pull it off undetected. 
A hushed curse just barely reached his ears, and he perked up, trying to hear anything else. It definitely came from you; there was no way any of the robots would let such profanity past their voice record logs. They weren’t the best with advanced vocabulary.
Soon enough, your figure appeared into view, searching around quickly between cells. Once your eyes fell upon the room with the code that read ‘113 L. SEUNGJUN’, you were quick to rush up to the other side of the door.
“Hey, time travelling dumbass. Long time, no see.” You whispered out with a smirk playing on your lips. Seungjun could feel his heart leap in his chest and he returned the smile. He had really missed you.
You quickly punched in the code to his cell and Seungjun watched as the door flickered away. You reached out for his wrist, already pulling him along before he could ask what the escape plan was. You seemed more than familiar with the layout of the building even in the dark. Seungjun opted to let you lead him to the way out without a word. He still didn’t know if there were any guards who might be on patrol.
It was a smooth escape, and you both were out into the cool night air before too long. Seungjun let the crisp fresh air fill his lungs fully, now realising how he had been holding his breath out of caution on the way out.
“How did you disarm the security cameras without getting caught?” He asked once he had caught his breath. Though he had been mostly focused on getting out, he had noticed the distinct lack of little red flashing dots that had been his constant reminder that whatever he did was being watched those 2 days straight.
“Minkyun figured out how to hack it from the inside, so all I had to do was find the control room. Hyojin got me the blueprints and Jaeyoung helped set up the game-plan. My job was pretty simple; get in, disarm, and then go find my stupid ass boyfriend.” You grinned, ruffling his hair as you said the last part.
Seungjun would’ve complained about you messing up his hair, or even the crude nickname that he secretly adored, but he had been apart from you too long to object to anything that came out of your mouth. He was hanging onto every word, soaking up the sound of your voice as his eyes studied yours fondly.
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet. What, did something else happen while you were in there?” You questioned with a quirked brow. Seungjun just shook his head at your question.
“Nothing happened. I’m just glad you came for me.” 
“You didn’t seriously think I would ditch you that easily, right?” You stared at him in shock as his eyes told you all the confirmation you needed. “Lee Seungjun!” You smacked his shoulder as you called out his name, causing him to jump and rub the spot afflicted in pain. 
“Do whatever it takes to get this thought into your ant-sized brain, okay? I am in love with you which means I will not leave you behind. Ever. Even if I get blasted by one of those androids and die— I’ll haunt you as a ghost until you realize that you can’t get rid of me that easily! Don’t you ever forget that.” You told him sternly, your eyebrows furrowed.
He wanted to laugh, or maybe cry, or maybe kiss you until he couldn’t breathe; he wasn’t sure which. How he had ever ended up winning your heart was beyond him, but he was so grateful that he had. And so, he decided to go with the third option.
“I won’t forget.” He whispered, leaning closer until his breath hit your lips. 
You took the first move, pushing your lips on his, starting the gentle dance of passion and care. You didn’t mind that his lips were dry and slightly chapped from the days locked up. No matter what state they were in, they still felt perfect over yours. He pulled you closer almost desperately, but you were just as eager to have him as close as possible. The effect of his absence for 2 days on you was something you never wished to repeat. Though you were sure it would come back to bite you someday; you needed Seungjun like oxygen. 
The kiss lasted until Seungjun was gasping for breath, just like he had hoped. Still craving your touch, he stayed in your arms, his chest pressed against yours as close as possible until he could feel your heart racing as much as his. 
And he realized that maybe you weren’t too perfect for him after all. 
Maybe you were just right. Maybe he could be yours without feeling guilty about all the trouble he dragged you in. Maybe you even liked how rebellious he was, Seungjun thought as you curled your fingers through the section of bright red hair blanketed under his raven strands. The thought made him smile, summoning that warm feeling in his chest that he had always been a little wary of in the past. 
Maybe he liked having someone to rely on as well, even if it was another weakness he had to account for. He made up his mind that no matter what, he wouldn’t doubt you again; you deserved at least that much, after all.
↳ onf taglist: @eternalgyu,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @seunghancore,, @haecien
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I think I know what's coming (and I just don't care.)
Summery:
Martyn lives an everyday life, he goes to work, he deals with his personal traumas away from the view of everyone else. And he likes to think he's rather smart.
Scott has a nice house he got after the death of someone in his family, he has a decent job, even if it is customer service. And he likes to think he's rather normal.
In which Scott tip toes the lines of mortality and his so supposed normalness, and martyn in his intelligence.
TW!! Kidnapping, violence, a party scene involving alcohol, and that sort of thing!!
Bata read but not edited!!
(This fic goes to @toomanyfandomsorkinafs!! <3 I thought I might follow this up with a nice note, as your Christmas gift, it's like I'm giving you a card!! Take a look at the bottom of the fic once done<333)
Now, martyn likes to say he's no idiot. When you come from a bad home. You don't tend to be one, even when you're disconnected from reality, you still keep your ears sharp, and mind running.
Waliing to the bookshop is a very normal thing now. He doesn't care to do the math, but he got this job early spring, and bow its late fall, the small drown building with the front covered in windows to display the books, welcoming him. He waves at the batista in the cafe just next door, cramped together on the street, side to side. The blue haired man, nodding to martyn, a large grin on his face, yet relaxed. He seems almost pleased. But martyn doesnt bother. Huffing a laugh, he pushes open the glass and dark oak doors. Rough concrete turning to soft, but itchy short carpet.
Working behind the counter, her shift almost over is cleo. Long wavy orange hair pulled back into a bun on the back of her head thats honestly seems lose enough to be almost falling apart. And Cleo is tense, she keeps on flexing her hands, but her face stays neutral. She must have gotten in another fight with etho over their sons. Bdubs and scar. She's only like this after a really tense argument. His brain can't help but supply. He doesn't really question why his eyes can't seem to focus, but he can notice cleos body language.
He takes the flat billed baseball cap off, hanging it up on the coat rack. Along with his too long trench coat he got from the thrift shop down the street, just a few days ago after work, just to fight off the cold for a little bit.witu snow on the horizon, he feels he might need to go back and get something a little warmer.
Cleo shuffles out from behind the small counter, nodding at martyn as she grabs hers own coat and more suitable for the weather, beanie. Pulling her hair out of the frankly awful, and stressful bun, she tugs the hat right on over, she doesn't bink when putting on on the beanie. Grumbling when it gets her bangs a bit in her eyes.
They don't need to say anything, they've know eachother long enough to know this isn't a day for words. Cleo most definitely had another custody argument. And she looks at martyn, how he seems to be far away, deep in his head, and his hands shake with tremors, and his jaw stays locked. They don't need words today, not when the sound if a too loud car makes martyn freeze in his place, half way to the counter.
Cleo walks out with a nod, the bell dinging behind her. And martyn wastes no idea digging into the new inventory. Boxes pilled in the back that they just haven't had room for yet, just calling his name. A simple task he doesn't have to tune in for. Perfect.
Martyn isn't sure how long he takes, but 3 out of God knows how many, boxes down, and the tremors are subsiding just a bit.
He isn't quite sure what set him off today. He had went to make breakfast, but he had to wash a few dishes first, and he couldn't find a fork, and since he was already doing a few, he decided to just do them all, but he couldn't find his gloves either, and when he did he already lost motivation, but he still did them, and next thing he knew, his podcast was too loud, and his hands hurt from holding dishes, his feet also hurt from standing, weird, he swore he hadn't been standing that long, and fuck, a plate broke. A plate fucking broke and can't find all the pieces, and he doesn't want to ruin his gloves and-
Well, he was shaking, and his breath was uneven, and his Brain felt clogged, and his lips were far too dry.
He decided on just eating a granola bar.
He doesn't know why the tremors stayed all the way till work, and hours later, bit, he can't do much about them, not really, he just has to deal with it, and no think about how his ears are ringing, and his legs are shaking too, oh fuck, his legs are shakin-
His thoughts were cut off when his legs decided to attempt to fall in, like martyn thought of them magic word. Barely catching himself on a bookshelf.. only for, well, everything tends to go wrong when your over stimulated, doesn't it?
Martyn composed with the bookshelf, and the books, and, he cant...he can't think straight, his mind and eyes too blurry, he's shaking too much.
"F-Fuck..." his voice trembled out the angry words, trembling like his hands, his breath, his legs.
It took martyn far longer, and far more trouble to get the books and bookshelf back up. He couldn't stop shaking. Afterwards, with his aching just, body. He thought it was best to sit behind the counter. Checking his watch it had only been and hour since he got in to work. He swore it should have been longer. But his mind lies about the time, and the clock doesn't.
Too far, or too little into the time, the ble haired man walks in, all confident, browsing the books. Scarf tight to keep the cold out, work uniform still on. And a thick, bushy coat. He sighs in relief at the warm and martyn can't help but find him beautiful.
Martyn loves the people that come into book stores sometimes, friendly tired moms, who try to be as nice as their young ones beg to leave. Elderly who call him sweetie, and promise to bring cookie next time, but always forget. Students just trying to get their school books just a little bit cheaper. People aimlessly looking for a gift for someone, even if they don't read a lot.
And if course, pretty, young people, looking for something to occupie their mind for a little bit.
The blue haired man falls under that category, with curled blue hair to one side, and blue eyes like ice. Lanky with a sort of elegance that almost feels dangerous. And his he/him pronoun pin, and gay man pride flag pin.
Everyday, but thrusdays, that he head into eirk, the man is at the cafe, and they wave, and once a week. Sometimes more, he comes in, buys a fantasy novel, or a queer romance novel, and leaves on his way. With small talk that makes martyn both nervous, and a little excited.
The man walks just as he foes everywhere week, seems almost drawn to the horror novels, but ingotes it, ignores it and goes to the romance. Martyn wonders a little, why he doesn't look at it. Why he doesn't buy one, why his handshakes over the covers, then Jenks back like he was burned. Martyn can't say he loves the horror they get, but he does enjoy it, every so often, he'll sir down with one of them, read ad long as he can, and let the idea someone could love him so much, they go insane, rot in his mind.
But, maybe the man has skeletons in the closet he isn't ready to show. Martyn can't Blane him, when he has some of his own. The soft music plays. And martyn can't help but chuckle as the man sways to it as he searches. Mouthing the words as he reads the back of a book. And martyn can see the edges of a scar from his neck but it doesn't matter, the man is walking up, a book in hand, and martyn is ready.
"Soooo, blondie, you haven't told me your name yet?" The tall man huffs happily, a grin playing at his lips, and like the rest of the day is gone, martyn huffs a laugh, holding his hand out of the book but the man just leans on the counter. Hunched over, elbow on the counter, head in his hand, tilted at martyn like that man would rather be no where else.
"Gimmie your book asshole..!!" Martyn huffs out, voice a laugh, eyebrows scrunching, and he's glad he pinned back his bangs today, he would hate for them to get in the way of the view when the man rolls his eyes.
"Nope!! Name first!!" He giggles while poping the p, to really add to it, tilting his head almost completely upside-down at martyn, clearly trying to get him to laugh, and martyn hates to admit he snorted at it, his face wrinkling. And the man's kinda stares, face going a bit red around the edges, but his grin only grows.
"I don't even know your name!!" Martyn huffs, crossing his arms, raising an eyebrow at the now pink in the face man. His flush only getting worse, and martyn knows the logical answer, probably just getting embarrassed, nothing big.
"I'll tell you my name, and give you the book, if you tell me yours first!!" The man tries to bargain, setting his head the right way once again. Curled hair falling just a enough to get in his eyes.
Martyn huffs, feeling his own face redden. Shaking his head, he can't believe how just...silly this all is!! He also can't believe his own tounge. "Martyn. Martyn littlewood." He sighs, unable to wipe away his own grin, as the man sits up, and passes him the book, smoothing down his outfit.
"Scott major, it's wonderful to formally know you martyn!!" He practically giggles out as the loud ding of martyn swiping the book rings out.
"Well, Scott major, your total is 24.67"
Martyn isn't ashamed to say it goes on like that for a while. A few more weeks go by, once a week, turns into twice a week, turns into buying a book twice a week, but coming to visit 2 other days. And before martyn knows it. He's spending his lunch at the cafe with Scott. He's even stopping for a coffee before work.
He has absolutely no clue what Scott is doing with all these books, but honestly, they're spending so much time, dilly dallying at their workplaces, martyn forgets to ask.
Martyns remembers it very very clearly, mostly becuase it had been one of the most nerve wrecking moments in his entire life. Martyn had been sorting the shelves when Scott came in, pearl working behind the counter, her hair pulled back, and in a rather simple winter outfit, a tan turtle neck, a pair of black high waisted jeans, and tan winter boots. Martyn won't deny, it looked good on her. But, well, Scott frozen in his place from the sight of pearl and martyn talking. He could see the man's hands twitch, and martyn felt an inkling of fear. Of worry.
But this is Scott. There's nothing to worry about, Scott that refused to let martyn pay for his coffee, Scott, who's shift got over 2 hours before martyns, and always made sure to stop in. Scott who he well, he trusted. And well, he hopes he can trust him for no conflict. In the times Scott had been coming, martyn was almost exclusively alone. Cleo had the morning shift, martyn had the day shift, and pearl had the evening shift. Early, 5am, cleo would open, work till 1pm, then martyn would come in, hed work till 8, and in their over night book store. Pearl would work from 8, to 3am. Little business but, you'd be surprised how many people go wandering late at night for a book. But all in all, this is almost everyday. Big B would work in a range of shifts, and he often worked martyns shift on Saturday.
But really, there normally wasn't enough of them, to work multiple at a time really. So, for Scott to see pearl, well, it was a bit of a surprise to say the least.
Martyn rose to his feet with a groan, his back poping from the hunched over position he was in on the floor. Hand on the bookshelf he was sitting infront of for just a moment to bend back and pop his back once more, before walking over to the counter, and waving Scott over.
Scott seemed almost hesitant, but, he smoothed out his shirt, and a look of almost anger, turned into one of calm, relaxed details. Walking over with a small grin he waved to martyn, seeming to be ignoring pearl.
"Scott, this is pearl, my coworker, she normally has the shift right after me" he gestured to pearl, a small grin on his face as he looked Scott in the eyes, blue eyes seeming to calm down at the sight of martyn paying attention to him.
"Pearl, this is Scott, my regular, and, well, a friend of mine, he works at that cafe" he chuckled, gesturing to Scott. But looking pearl in the eyes. He isn't quite sure why he brought up where Scott works, he is in his work clothes still, after all.
Scott wouldn't say he's a jealous person. Not really. But rage boiled in his chest, the Jaws of an ugly beast threatening to wrap around and crush any chance at a friendship him and pearl have. He isn't quite sure why it bothers him so much. Martyn can have friends outside of him. For fucks sake. Scott has friends outside of martyn!!
"It's nice to meet you pearl!!" He chuckled, looking pearl in the eyes and sticking out his hand. It almost seemed like dead movement martyn acknowledged. And martyn can't see the look in scotts eyes, but he can see the shiver up pearls spine, he can see how she almost looks uncomfortable around him. Shaking his hand almost hesitantly
"Pleasure to meet you..." she mumbled, looking him in his eyes, squinted as she tried to read something about him. Before nodding, relaxing, a grin coming to her mouth as she let go of his hand.
Martyn nodded to where he was sitting before, a delight grin on his face as he jabbed Scott in the arm.
"Come on, we, have some cds to sort" he giggled walking away as he heard the cafe worker gasp in offense, following after. He can see Scott come to stand next to him out of the corner of his eye, slowly sitting back down in his spot. The blue eyed man following suit.
"Since when did it become 'we'?!" He huffed, narrowing his eyes as he leaned forward, tilting his head at martyn, much like a puppy would before starting to play with you, and martyns cheeks couldn't help but redden at the thought.
"I'll have you know, I just got off work, I cane to hang out, and now you're having me be social, AND, do your job?!"He sat back, crossing his arms with a huff, turning his face away, a pout playing at his lips that only made martyns cheeks a brighter red.
And still, martyn, has absolutely no clue why he did it, it may have been an impulse, or he just felt it was right, or he just, really wanted to. But martyn leaned over, and kissed the man's cheek. "Will that make you help me out some?" He whispered, voice quiet, and almost trembling, as he stayed in scotts personal space. The blue haired man lighting up in a beautiful shade of red that had martyn leaning back and turning into a red faced, giggling idiot.
Scott just nodded limby, mouth slightly open in surprise, the corners of his mouth quirking up.
Scott doesn't know why he did it. He can't come up with a single reason why. This isn't the kind of thing he'd do. He had no clue why he was so ready to do it. He just...hell, he may havel been planning it. He doesn't know. He can't even been super sure he even regretted it.
It had happened by pure coincidence really. He got invited to a holiday party joel and his girlfriend lizzie were hosting and it really just, turns out that lizzie knew pearl. She knew pearl well. The shorter women followed around by pearl, casually talking the entire time. In his hands was a far too sweet cocktail he believes mumbo made, he couldn't be sure, but it coated his throat in syrup and left a sickeningly sweet taste in his mouth.
He saw pearl stand there awkwardly as lizzie got whisped away by some other people. All their voices too loud, all their cups mostly empty, and all smelling of the sickeningly sweet alcohol. So with far too much confidence and bad intentions. He moved across the too loud room, people shoving into him, almost making him spill his drink. His nose wrinkling at the strong smell of fireball one left behind.
He huffed in relief as he flopped down on the chair neck to pearl. On the couch just a few feet away, a man was snorring while sitting up, his girlfriend holding his sleeping hand as she talked with people who came and went, talking softly even if the room was roaring in sound. Scott nodded to them as they paid not an ounce of attention to him
"Well, would you look at that..!! Chivalry isn't dead..!!" He chuckled, and pearl snorted, finally looking over to him. A sad sort of grin on her face, as she sat down on the floor, back to the arm of the chair. Legs curling up to her chest, cup abandoned at her side.
Scott let her stay silent for a moment, clearly thinking something, or not having the words in her. Loud stupid pop music playing on some speakers. Pearl seeming to almost be breathing heavily, eyes still trained on lizzie.
“I heard they might be getting married…” Pearl whispers out. And Scott doesn't need to her to say who she's talking about her voice shaking lightly.
“I'm so sorry about that…if it makes you feel any better, I once dated a man for 2 years, only to find out he was married the entire time, had a family and all!!” He huffs, scowling slightly before sighing, a small laugh bubbling up in his throat. And pearl let's out a hiss in sympathy, and Scott just pats her shoulder. “What I'm saying is she isn't the only one like that out there. You'll find someone else who takes your breath away all over again” he says, voice soft as he moves to be leaning back.
Pearl flounders for words, leaning back against the chair, hair a tangled mess getting onto scotts lap. “I…I'm just…so tired of being so just…alone. All the time..” she whimpers, hands coming to wipe away the forming tears as she starts to bable “and she just…she made me feel like I wasn't alone, like I had somewhere, where someone wanted me, where she wanted me…and now she's off,possibly about to be engaged, like we didn't hang out at my place last week, watching Christmas movies and cuddling, and just…” she groans out. Curling back up into a ball, refusing to look anywhere else.
And Scott sees this as his chance really. Standing up slowly, he holds out a hand for her, a reassuring smile on his face, but his blood boils. He feels it popping and snapping in his chest. And he isn't quite sure why.
“Come on, I don't think we need to be here anymore.” He trials off, his grin only growing as she uses his hand to pull herself up, shaking slightly in the legs. But nodding all the same. Letting her eyes drift to the floor. Scott almost feels bad. Key word, almost. The ugly beast still snarls and shows its teeth, ready to bite down and shred her to bits.
He guides her through the rows of too loud music, and too many drunk people. He can hear cheers as mumbo does some kind of trick with the mixer. It isnt much of a surprise. Mumbo has been bartending for almost a decade at this point. He makes it a point in almost every conversation that he simply loves his job. But Scott can still hear him apologize, and say it's really nothing. That it's rather quite simple. No one believes him in the slightest. Not when Scott and pearl are half way to the door, and they can both see the metal cups flying through the air above the crowd. Too many people in the too fancy house.
Lizzy cam from a far too wealthy family Scott is starting to think. She says she had a comfortable childhood. But. That feels like a bit of a lie.
The door is soon approaching, and pearl leans on Scott as he guides her too it. Not interested in being here longer then he needs to be. Not with the plan starting to form in his mind as he practically shoves her out the door.
“Hey…do you want me to drive you home?” He chuckles, glaring at her from the corner of his eye. Already knowing the answer as she weakly nods. Brown hair that once was done up all nice now falling in his face. As she stares at the floor. Unsure of what's going to happen.
He makes his way to his car, making sure to not have parked too far away, back when he thought he was going to leave with a bad attitude and ready to just drive off. Opening the passenger door he does a joking bow, and pearl doesn't even try to give a smile at it. Sliding into the seat almost limply, and Scott can't help but smile. It almost feels far too easy. As he walks around, opening his door, and sliding into his own seat. Looking to the door to see the small pistol he keeps there as a just incase scenario. He does feel he'll need it as he starts up the car.
With the roar to life, he slowly turns on the music, turning it to an older station and watching as pearls noise wrinkles as the final count down starts to play. He turns on the heating to keep her warm in her too little clothing for the weather. “Sooooo, you're gonna have one he'll of a hangover at work tomorrow?” He asks with a chuckle, slowly buckling in. She does the same and shakes her head. “Don't got work for the next few days, holiday weekend and all. With new years being in a day. Heard martyn and bigB are still working tho.” She says, almost numbly as she looks out the window, something still so sad about her. And he doesn't know why, but her bringing up martyn makes the thing in his chest snarl.
He decides to let the car idle for a moment, not wanting to mess it up too bad. Even if he is about to kidnap pearl. And she's going to let him. He knows it. Deep in his chest. It feels far too easy, and yet to right. “That's good. That's good, well, not good for martyn or big B, but. I'm glad you have a few days off…” he kinda trails off, rubbing the soft steering wheel cover. The two falling into almost awkward silence. Pearl too busy I'm her own head of thoughts of lizzie, Scott too busy in his with thoughts of making sure pearl certainly gets a point.
“Hey, you wanna head over to mine? I have some ice cream and shit? Make you feel all better?”
“....what streaming services do you have?”
“....Netflix, Hulu, paramount, and Disney-”
“-Yeah, let's head over to yours.” She cuts him off before he can finish, looking up out of the car window, and Scott snickers. Putting his car into drive.
Come morning and sunlight streams through the curtains of his old family house. Bathing the place in light. Stretching his arms far above his head with a yawn, making sure to keep an eye on the sizzling bacon and the soon to be done pancakes. A sense of pride boiling in his chest.
one hand grips the handle of the skillet, the other holding the black plastic spatula. Gently edging the pancake onto the already made stack. A low hanging grin on scotts face as he turns off the burner. The room filled with soft music and savory smells as scott moves around. Picking up a plain pancake to eat as he puts two onto a different, metal plate. Still warm bacon following suit. He turns to the peanut butter, opening it up, and smearing it onto the two pancakes on the glass plate. Putting a little too much bacon on the plate. Chuckling softly to himself as he spins. Taking long strides back to the pantry to put up the peanut butter. Mind buzzing with things to say, things to do. He really didn't get to do too much last night, by the time he had gotten back, she has fallen asleep, and he got her tired to the chair? He was far more then beat, arms and legs just aching.
Quietly picking up the plates, he turns to the basement door. Flicking on the light switch, and nudging open the door, he starts his decent.
From morning light and savory smells of breakfast, to dim light bulbs, and the smell of went stone. Depending the stairs, he makes sure to close the door behind him, watching as it suddenly becomes much much darker, and his eyes have to adjust to the lighting of the stairs. The stone brick walls with moss and such creeping up them, welcome him like an old friend. Too bad he doesn't get along with friends from the past anymore.
He represses a shiver as he steps down each step, counting as he goes, making sure to keep his voice a light hum. And isn't that splendid!! He can hear pearls muffled screams and thrashing already!! She's awake!!
He sighs happily as he makes it to the 32nd stair. The very bottom, turning he sees just what he left. A metal dinning table. Pearls hair seeming to have gotten even more knotted!! He'll make sure to brush it tomorrow, if he let's her free like he's planning. Tears and pure anger, yet fear fill her eyes, and scarf gagging her has spit soaking through, and Scott tries not to wrinkle his nose, but he can't help it really.
Her arms tied behind her back, and then to the chair, just to be safe. And each ankle tied to the front two legs of the chair. She leans as forward as she can go without tipping, and with her glare, as she screams nonsense, Scott almost feels like she's growling at her really!!
He sets both of the plates down on the cold stone floor, praying nothing crawls into his food as he's a bit busy. Slow, steady movement as he walks behind her, lifting her hair up as he slowly unties the soft red scarf. As soon as it drops she's starts to scream.
“LET ME GO YOU CRAZY ASSHOLE!! LET ME GO. I SWEAR I WONT TELL ANYONE, JUST LET ME GO!!”
He voice is almost horse, and Scott can't help but roll his eyes and sigh. Walking back around, jerking his hand away as she tries to bite at him. Letting out an almost offended gasp as she pauses, huffing for breath. Hair still falling forward. “Gods!! And you're not even here for anything personal!! You would think we had some long lasting enemies thing with how you're acting!!” He says, voice rising as he scrunched his brow. Not much of a fan og pearl right now, with all her screaming, and drooling, and crying in total.
He huffs. Honestly, he didn't think kidnapping would be this messy. The women letting out what almost sounding like a snarl. And Scott Scoffed in return. practically storming off from her. Something still boiling in his blood he doesn't care to give her the plate right now. Hands sliding into his pockets, gripping the pocket Knife with all the strength he has left.
“I'm not a violent person pearl.” He snarls, voice dripping with rage, or is it blood lost as she spits, going far enough to land on his new slippers.
“Like hell you arent.” her voice as much of a snarl as his. And well, Scott doesn't think before he's plunging the knife into her shoulder.
He thinks it's easy to listen as pearl screamed. head throwing back at an odd angle as she thrashes.
Martyn didnt even flinsh when the bell to the shop rang loud. Pearl hadnt replied since friday night. Hope in his eyes as he looks up, only to see Scott in the doorway, a nervous sigh leaving his lips. With slow movements he looks around the shop, noticing not a soul in the place. He let's him sag forward at the fact its just him and scott. elbows on the counter as martyn slowly slides onto, a worry noise leaving him as his hand slide into his hair, pushing his hair back. And martyn swears he doesn't mean to grip his hair tight enought that he's pulling it. He really didn't mean to.
He can hear scotts step become hurried as he reaches martyn, martyn doesnt even look at Scott as he pulls his hands out of his hair. Gently taking the hand into his own, running his fingers over his knuckles with such gentleness martyn feels he has to look up. Tears starting to form in his eyes as he takes in a shakes inhale.
Scott looks worried, almost frustrated. Eyebrows scrunched, and frowning. His jaw far too tense. But just the look of worry made martyn cave.
“Gods, I'm, scott, I'm, I'm just so worried about her scott..!!” He croaks out, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels tears start to fall. Squeezing scotts hands like his life depends on it.
He isn't able to see the way scotts nose wrinkles. He doesn't know that Scott knows who he's talking about. He doesn't know the way the beast that Scott has gotten used to in his chest, is beyond man, leaving deep gashes that Scott can almost feel.
“Oh martyn…what happened, what, what's going on?” Scotts voice is an attempted softness, but jealousy is lacing each world to the point he stutters. Martyn can't hear it, as his voice catches and he let's our a low whimper.
“Pearl…shes…oh gods…no one has seen or heard from her in 3 days, and..they, they reported her missing this morning” scotts own breath catches on that. As he slowly removes his hand from one of martyns, martyn isn't sure where her takes it, untill the soft hands, calloused from coffee burns, is wiping away tears as they fall. Martyn breath catches. Slowly opening his eyes once more, tears catching on his lashes, and keeping his vision throughly blurry as he leans heavily into scotts hand. A shaking sob leaving him once more.
“Oh I'm so sorry martyn….I'm sure she'll be found soon..” I'll make sure of it goes unsaid. scotts voice was layer in a sweetness, he knew, sounded fake. But martyn didn't care. His breath hitched once again as his sobbing picked up.
The question is if she'll be alive is on the tip of his tounge, waiting to slither out, and bite at anyone it can. But as a sob shakes him, he knows he won't say it.
His empty hand grabs scotts by the wrist, nails digging in and causing crescents into the skin of scoots wrist. And Scott knows they'll bruise due to his low iron. But he doesn't care, he let's martyn hold him like his life depends on it.
With a gentle attempt at a smile that doesn't quite reach his lips, he tilts martyn head up by the chin, leaning in just a bit.
Martyn stares into his eyes with one's of sorrow. And Scott can taste, can feel, the hickuping breaths. Scott figures its alright to steal just a little bit more breath from martyn.
The kiss is light, it doesnt take more then a minute. But it leaves scotts head spinning, and it leaves martyn bringing the hand he's still holding to his chest. And curling into the one on his face. Leaning awkwardly over the counter.
“She'll be ok martyn, i promise.” And martyns heart skips, and he thinks he believes scott.
(HEYYYYY YOUVE REACHED THE END, LOOK AT THAT!!!!! kina. You're the friend I've had for the longest on here, and I really do love you/p you look simply amazing in everything you wear, and that time you show me how you pulled up your hair was, to put it simply, awesome<3 you've super fun to talk with, and I wish life would align just a little bit more for us to talk even more then we do now. You truly are a great friend, and I love you, and you're writing to death<333 I could probably go back and find when you first commented on that pist of mine, but do I really need to? It feels like it's been years knowing you already, when I know it's been a year at max. You're awesom3, and every conversation with you leaves me a smiling mess, just at the fact you enjoy talking to me of all people!! And that honey moon you proposed? I would simply love to go biking with you, in, Norway was it? Besides the point, maybe you could take me to the arcade too<3)
(ALSO, 5K FUCKING WORDS, LONGEST THING IVE EVER WROTE, JUST FOR YOU BABES<333)
(I'm not actually wake, this is a scheduled post, so I won't respond instantly<333)
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annika-thelostlove · 1 year
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The second time, you chose right - part 1 // Edward nashton x fem!reader
Word count // 3816
Summary // In an Alternate timeline Edward Nashton quits his job as a forensic accountant in Gotham city to become an IT support for a lawfirm. You notice the new guy at your work, eddie. He's chubby and quiet and shy, and you think it might just be love at first sight.
Authors note // I got waaaaay into building your character, I'm sorry. You're kinda a crazy person and have a dark past. But you're perfect for Edward
Warnings // mature fic, twisted fluff and angst, dark past from both of them, past muĺrder and crimes, morally grey, sexual themes, attempted sexual assult, stalking, but mostly being in love with Edward ❤
Can be read as a oneshot
Part 2
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Eddie's gained some more weight, he's noticed it because he's had to use the next larger belt hole when he puts on his pants now. It should be the least of his problems, but it's another hit on his self esteem that he's very carefully been trying to build since quitting his forensics job.
He focuses on the positives, seeing a therapist in the last few years changed the direction of his life and for the better. He could be in worse mental and emotional conditions by now if he kept discovering more horrible things about Gotham crimes. He was glad for that day in the ally, meeting Batman, the hope incarnate. Finally there was someone to bring light in this city. Edward passed all burdens of duty, of making the city better to the Batman, and left the life of vengeance and violence behind.
He gathered as much evidence he could, and did his best not to become obsessed with the injustice of it all, and then anonymously tipped off evidence to batman. That was more than a year ago. Hes in a much better place now. If he wants to help the city, he has to do it with a clear mind. He's accepted that he's a genius after all, as many others have complimented him in the past. He knows his worth. Now in a good stable job, a new career in IT at a small law firm, he has a nice boss, and the people at work are decent enough to send him little gifts on public holidays.
And then at night he becomes the online hacker vigilante 'nigma', stealing money from the rich, and giving to the poor.
But sometimes things like this make his days hard. Eddie slowly grabs at his love handles, and grips it hard. He sighs. He doesn't know when he's ever felt attractive. But I guess his life has never felt privileged enough for him to care about his appearance till now. He guesses it's a testament to a better quality of life. He read that somewhere, he thinks. Edward is not quite sure he believes it. He throws on his raincoat and gets to work.
< 💚 >
You have been peeking over from your reception desk over to the cubicles for the last year hoping to get glimpses of him when you can. You love the shape of his cheek, and his round shoulder that peeks out from his cubicle wall. He's so beautiful, you think. But he's never once looked in your direction since that first time you met. Edward nashton, he was the new guy. And you think that maybe that feeling you had the first time you saw him last year might be love at first sight.
All the men and at times the ladies in the office have all made a pass at you at some point. You think it's because since you work in reception, you have to be friendly with everyone at the front desk. Still, some part of you feels you were somewhere above average attractive, you've turned down a couple of people in the past. So maybe you're hotter than you give yourself credit for.
But Edward, he updated your computer twice since working here, and one of those times you were on a sick day. No real conversation has happened between you since you met apart from the occasional sounds of agreement from Ed.
'How has your day been?' - 'good'
'I heard you worked in forensics before!' - 'yes'
'I'm in love with your little succulent!' - 'thank you'
He has a little pump bottle sanitizer on his desk that you watch him rub into his dainty hands occasionally, a tiny little cactus plant, a funny favourite mug that's in the shape of a pill bottle that always makes you laugh, and a row of little notebooks in the corner you think are full of his thoughts and musings perhaps even poems. (They are actually great little collection of his own riddles) and alot more the little things around him that just make you fall deep into him even more. You are doomed, and hopeless, and desperately in love with Edward.
Today you will try to get his attention again. Walking by his desk you compliment him on his shirt. It's a pink button down.
"Uh, thank you." He says barely acknowledging you.
He's so uncomfortable, but not as much as he had been last Friday after he turned you down for drinks. You're sure he smiles often at the others, just not at you. You long for it.
You can't help yourself, despite getting hurt last Friday, and endless signs that he has no interest in spending time with you. You put yourself out there anyway.
What you didn't know though, was that Edward came home last Friday crying into his pillow after comming in his hand thinking about how you must have wanted to humiliate him. He thinks that of course your interest is just some sick joke that you're pursuing for a laugh.
"Well, Eddie, I know it's Monday, but- um, I'm going to a late night diner tonight, and- not the bar from last week. And I was thinking coffee was more your style- maybe, if you were free to check it out…with me."
He releases a shaky breath, and looks up at you. "I haven't…changed my mind. S-sorry."
Your palms tingle and tears prickle in your eye, he really really really doesn't want you. You put on a smile.
"Okay, okay, that's okay. Well, see ya tomorrow then!"
You rush to your desk, not knowing that Edward actually saw the genuine hurt in your eyes. He was shocked, maybe you were genuine about spending time with him. He sees you hide at your desk furiously wiping at your eyes. He feels his stomach drop, he really didn't know that it mattered to you so much. You work at reception, you're friendly with everyone. You couldn't actually be interested in him?
< 💚 >
The walk down to the club next door to the dinner was a no-brainer for you. You need to get drunk and get rid of this horrible feeling of rejection fast.
Edward follows you after work, and worriedly watches you from afar as you enter a club. you've been in there for a good hour. He's worried, maybe you've looked for a quick hook up. A horrible feeling burns in his stomach, jealousy, maybe regret, and a twist of anger. Did you only see Edward as a means to fill your own needs? Sighing, that is not possible you could want that with him of all people when he feels so, ugly. Horrible feelings are stirring within him, he fights them. Clenching his fists he takes deep breaths, he's trying to be good. He needs to be.
You finally emerged from the club, looking sad and only partly drunk. You angrily fix your jacket and begin your walk home. A few moments later a rough looking man also comes out looking around, agitated and begins to follow you. Edward quickly jumps out of his hiding spot and pursues. His nerves are up. This dosent look good. What could this man want? He tries his best to hide in the shadows.
< 💚 >
An asshole at the club wouldn't get the hint, you're not interested. So you had to leave that shithole club early.
You notice that there seems to be some footsteps behind you, following for a few minutes now. So you walk faster. You hold on to your sharp blade on your keychain inside your pocket tighter.
But before you could pull it out, someone comes out of nowhere and throws you into an alleyway. Your shoulder collides with the concrete wall and your whole arm is in pain. You are violently grabbed and held tightly with two arms around you then a small knife pushes at your throat. You try not to scream.
"Shush, it's okay it's just me from the bar, be quiet alright." That sleezy voice you heard from the club murmurs behind you.
You beg him to let you go, but he hurriedly starts to shuffle his and your clothing, tugging at yours and his pants to open unsuccessfully. You gasp and yell no, and realise exactly what the asshole wants.
In your struggle you manage to pull your arm free with your small sharp weapon in your hand and thrust it as hard as you could into the body of flesh behind you. He grunts in pain.
But before you could stab him again, you hear a high pitch yell and another series of heavy thuds against the body that's holding you captive. The wet sound of his body being stabbed with a sharp weapon. And not yours. Someone else is here in the ally way with you.
You scream once in confusion and fall forward onto the wall, you turn to see your attacker's body fall to the ground. And another person was on him, stabbing him with a knife. You gasp in shock. You have a hero. At first you think it must be Batman. But he was not cloaked or in a mask, this man's appearance was familiar. Your heart skipped violently in your chest when you realised who it really was.
It's Edward!! He's rescuing you!
"Edward!" You say excitedly
The sound of you calling him stopped him in his trance, with a gasp he drops his weapon. As if he didn't realise what he just did. He's stabbed a man five times with his pocket knife. Frozen in shock he falls backwards on the ground.
What has he done? He looks at his hands, they are shaking and red. His glasses splattered with blood, he shakily wipes at them but it gets worse. It smudges everywhere.
You see that he's scared now. He looks lost, oh sweet Edward. But you notice the man on the ground is still breathing, and Edward is not in the condition to make a choice right now. So you make up your mind.
It's us or them. Your thoughts click into place, yes you are meant to help him, eachother, its destiny. So you hurriedly pick up his knife from the ground and finish what he started. You slice the man's neck, taking the nameless perv out of his misery.
It goes quiet, the silence was deafening between you. You look at one another in suspense. Both covered in the man's blood. You crawl over to Edward then grab his trembling hand.
"We have to go Edward. We have to hide."
He comes back for a second and sees you with those green eyes "Oh, Yes yes we should go. My apartment is just up the street."
"Okay, let's go"
The two of you hold hands dodging all street lights to stay in the dark. Despite your situation, it felt like an epic romance. Getting to run away with him in the dead of the night. The two of you make it to his door. He brings you inside, but still no words are exchanged.
He's standing very still in his apartment now, his face you can see he's thinking a mile a second even though he faces you. He seemed to finally remember your presence after noticing a little heart shaped blood splatter on your cheek.
"Oh, golly." He runs his hand through his hair and says your name in the most endearing way. "I-I ill let you use the bathroom first. It's, it's over this way" He points over to a door to his left. He doesn't look so well. But you can't help but think of how handsome he is, his face full of gentle worry. Despite the blood.
You close the bathroom door behind you, and without a second thought stripped down and used his shower.
You didn't know though that Edward out in the living room was spiralling. His head in his hands, this was the kind of thing he's been trying to fight, the person hes trying not to become. He stabbed someone tonight. Without a second thought. And planned to complete it if it wasn't for you. You. You finished it off. How, how were you going to get away with it? It's was his fault, he made you murder a man. They're gonna take you away. Somewhere, somewhere-
You step out of the bathroom forgetting that you didn't ask for spare clothes, you're glad he had a massive towel to wrap yourself in. But Edward doesn't even notice you standing there practically naked in his living room.
"Edward, honey are you alright?" No response
"Lets get you cleaned up now alright?"
You pull him along by this arm to the bathroom. His eyes distant, hes not really with you now. So you let him sit on the toilet seat and while you just fill up his bath with steamy water waiting for him.
"Eddie can I clean your clothes honey?" You test the endearment on your tongue and begin with removing his stylish glasses, he seems fine with that. Next his bloodied jacket and shoes and socks. Feeling encouraged by his calm response you try to remove his shirt, unbuttoning him. Then he grabs your arms, stopping you.
Now he finally looks shaken. His lips tremble, like there is something he just can't say. You wait for him to say them. But he's breaking apart quickly.
"Okay, it's alright, just let me hold you." You reassure him. He releases you and you take his head into your chest. "It's okay sweetheart, I want to make you feel better, make you feel clean" you repeat these words to him until it was the only thing on your mind. Same words you have used on yourself many times in the past.
Something in him finally breaks, and you feel him begin to sob into you. It's heartbreaking, he wails loudly in his own towel that you're wearing at your chest. Holding you tightly against him.
You wonder if it was his first time, seeing death, it certainly was not yours.
But you were wrong, it was not the death. His tears were from something else. It's you. He's never felt someone's affection like this. Being held, and told words of reassurance. Feeling like a treasure in your arms. In the trouble you both were in now 'how could he let this go once it's taken from him?'
Edward was inconsolable for a little while, but you love him, it was a privilege to have his tears against your chest. You soothed his back and head. He had such lovely brown hair. Giving his hairline a kiss, he calmed down enough for you to continue undressing him. You recognize this behaviour, he's dissociated for a little while. He needs some rest.
You have him naked in his tub in just a few minutes. He's only a little shy now. Trying to cover his privates while you soap him clean. It feels like a test, temptation on a silver platter. You control yourself from touching the most beautiful body you have seen. He blushes so prettily, the pink runs down his chest, and your eyes roam down to his round belly and thighs, desire heats up between your legs. But it's not the time to think about yourself, he deserves to be loved and respected.
When you're done, you try to dry him off, but he grows shy and quickly takes over wiping himself. When you two enter his bedroom he dresses himself in cotton shorts and a thin sweater, and he gives you some of his clothes to wear. You settle on a long pajama shirt, the pant were too long to wear.
"We can, talk tomorrow..about what to…do.." He quietly says and hesitates.
"We can…share the bed" his whole face turns tomato red at his own suggestion. After all what's happened tonight he feels confident that you want to be near him.
You give him a sweet hopeful grin and you both climb into bed. With your head on his chest, you smile and inhale his scent deep, and think that this is how it should always be before falling fast asleep.
______________
< One year ago >
Three new people will be added to the company. The welcome party was quite nice so far, nice little finger food, you've already put a few in your bag.
They did the same thing for you few years ago when you got this job. No one questioned how you got it. And you're so grateful for Mr. Wayne.
Six years ago you were just a teenager working at one of Salvatore Maroni's drops factory. When the drug finally killed both your brothers, you started adding undetectable poison into your own mix of drops in an attempt to get back at the dealers who sold them to kids. You killed some successfully, but not without getting innocent deaths. Whole families died from your drug mix. Fueled by hate and obsessed with cleansing the city, dozens of people died by your doing, many unnoticed and only marked off at drops overdoses, and even unfortunate bystanders had to go. Many of the deaths of mafia big names made the news, dubing you as The Pusher Killer. But after years, you couldn't carry on living with the hate in your heart and the guilt. You were suffering from the darkness of your life.
Then one day a masked man approached you and asked for locations of the drops factories in exchange for the start of a new life. The man looked alarmingly similar to the young bruce wayne you see on the news. But with the scarf and hood you couldn't confirm it. You took the deal. And here you are now with a new name and a clean start. Though what you've done, will always haunt you. The guilt follows you like a ghost, a prison you have not escaped.
The three men that have been added to your IT department, they all look a little similar to eachother. One of them has stylish translucent glasses on, maybe you should introduce yourself. He was unassuming though he was tall, and simply stood off to the side of the snacks table offering anyone who came by him a little smile. Cute.
You introduce yourself "hey I work in reception, what's your name?"
"Edward"
"Welcome to the team! But the IT and reception departments don't overlap much." He blinked a few times, trying to get a baring of things perhaps. "So I'm glad to have a chance to talk you you." He blushes and is thinking of saying something, but it's a few moments till he says it.
"What happens again, but different both times?"
"..what..?"
"It- its a riddle. What can happen again, but is different both times?"
"I..uh. um."
"Nevermind-"
"No, no, let me think for a moment"
"Kay" He waits patiently with his lips pursed together. You go through a few options first. He shakes his head, all wrong.
What can happen again, but is different both times?
Then it hits you, like opening your eyes for the first time. The answer hits home so closely, you almost feel like a child again in wonder with the wide world.
"Is it..a second chance?"
His smile blinds you, Edward shines like you've never seen anyone before. "Yes!!" He giggles. "Yes, and we will have the chance to see each other again!" He revels in both of your victories, unaware of what had just happened to you. As if he had no idea that your world just got a little brighter, because he's made you remember where you are, in the middle of your second chance. The look in his eyes, they are like yours somehow. And he knows it too. You look at him I awe, laughing along with him. While all at once you are falling.
Is this it?
"Do you- well, I know it sounds lame, but- do you believe in that?" You ask him and look past those spectacles he wears and see his big green eyes magnified and blinking down at you.
"In- in second chances?" He doesn't really think for even a second when he says. "Of course I do." And he smiles till it reaches his eyes. Oh. Of course, its him. He's the one for me. Your heart just soars.
But in the first week working there, Edward began to ignore you, you were not sure why. Edward is ashamed to say, but at that welcome party he felt special after you talked to him. But it turns out you're quite friendly with practically everyone else. He won't get his hopes up if he doesn't talk to you as often, so he just won't.
___________
< Present >
You awoke when it was still dark, checking your phone time, it says 2:33 am.
Sometime in the night Edward pulled away from you and curled up in a little ball. You look over and try to get a look at him. He's fast asleep, the way he sleeps seems a little tense. But cute nonetheless. You slowly curled over him, becoming the big spoon. He relaxes a little.
After a few minutes he begins to shiver. But not from cold. You think it's a dream. He suddenly gasps and wakes up, opening his eyes which have become glassy.
You hold him tighter, letting you know that you're there. "I'm here with you"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, it's just me. What- what did you dream about?"
"Hmn, the same things really. From the orphanage that I was raised in. Just how…cold it was… how lonely."
"Oh eddie." You rub his skin gently. "Im sorry, but I'm glad, that it's in the past. You're here now, with me. Together. Im happy."
"You're happy with me?"
"Yes, I am"
You roll him over to face you. You see the sadness of his brow, he worries just like you. Where will all the pieces fall? The two of you will have to face whatever consequences come through from the events of Tonight. Maybe Gotham detectives will only find the body in the morning. Find you and lock you away. Maybe they don't suspect you at all. Maybe you will be together with Edward from this point on and never be found out. Maybe in a few moments they will break into Eddie's apartment and take him too.
It was a long tense pause before he responded to your bold implication about the two of you. "Well. I'm not so sure how long we have till it's all taken away."
"I won't waste time then." Your hand holds the apple of his cheek, and he closes his eyes from the feeling. Once they opened you close the distance between you and kiss him the way you've always dreamed of.
Part 2
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sunflower-ozzy-online · 3 months
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Stewing in Slick
Eating dinner next to a snack :) you get closer to Halsin.
7th Chapter - Masterlist
Halsin /Reader
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic - Alpha/Omega - Omega Verse - Reader-Insert - Eventual Smut
“May I sit here?” The man asked while towering above you, trying to figure out how welcome he was in your space.
You tried to hide the guilty look on your face as you nodded to him.
He moved to sit down next to you, his muscles straining under his clothes as he sat on the ground beside you. He began eating, surprisingly gentle for a person of his size.
After a few moments of tense silence, more so tense on your end, he cleared his throat.
“How are you adjusting so far? Is everyone acting decent?” he asked in between bites of stew.
“It’s nice… the people are… nice.” you responded, silently cursing yourself for not being able to find another word other than ‘nice’.
You wanted to keep your response short, as to not pull too much of his attention so he would not notice the slight amount of slick accumulating in between your delicate folds. You felt ashamed, here was this lovely druid trying to make sure you felt safe while going through an impossible time and your body decides to gush at how close he is simply because he’s an Alpha. If he notices the wetness at your apex or increase in body temperature he is polite enough to not bring it up.
“I know being away from home can be difficult and new people can be intimidating, so I would like to ensure you feel as comfortable as possible before and during your heat.”
Your breath hitched at his words, no one where you're from would talk about such matters around mixed company and would certainly not bring it up in public. You started coughing, having been mid bite with a spoonful of stew.
As you try to regain your breath Halsin sat beside you looking slightly worried but making no efforts to help or check if you were okay. As your breathing settled back into a normal pattern you looked up at him, half expecting him to apologize for his words or at least acknowledge the brashness and sexual nature of them. You should not have been surprised when he didn’t retract his question or as his face showed no condolences or shame.
“Apologies, but people where I'm from don't tend to talk about…. Those things in public… or really at all.”
“No, I suppose I should be the one who is sorry. I often forget that some people experience embarrassment or even shame when confronted with conversations of a sexual nature.” he paused for a moment before continuing on, “My people embrace nature and all things that come with it, including sex. I see it as a wonderful and natural act, it really is a pity that some teach others to be ashamed of their bodies and sexualities.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m ashamed, it was more so shocking to hear you speak so freely about it. Sex wasn't necessarily taboo per say but even just being an Omega came with judgment from strangers once they found out. So hearing you talk about MY heat and being so caring about it was surprising, but in a good way.”
He furrowed his brows, “I abhor how Omegas are treated like second class citizens by different societies. All the Omegas I have had the pleasure of knowing are strong and capable just like anyone else, and certainly not a hindrance in any way. Nor are they dirty for wanting their needs to be met.”
Trying to not shower this Alpha in praise for having the bare minimum amount of empathy to your plights was difficult, when all you wanted was to kiss him stupid for acknowledging your struggles as an Omega.
“It's certainly rough out there, but it's truly not all bad. Occasionally you can manipulate people's prejudices to work for you. Like when I first presented, I would fake small heats to not have to go to boring activities. The Betas where I live get awkward at even the mention of a heat or rut so they did not question why I was having so many.”
He chuckled at your joke, a warm sound coming from his diaphragm. You had succeeded, you were acing this conversation.
“And the Alphas would get scared that I would trigger their ruts, so they would more or less run away. It stopped working once I started going back on fishing runs though. On my first ship everyone was already up in everybody's space. You could barely keep the crew from finding out if you had a crush on someone, much less lie to them about going through a heat.”
He nodded to show he was listening, also prompting you to continue on.
“I do miss them sometimes, they were people that didn't mind where you came from or who you were, so long as you worked hard and weren't an asshole.”
“Did you leave?” He finally asked, after allowing you to ramble for so long.
“Yeah, had too. The working conditions became toxic after a certain person joined the crew.”
“In what way?”
You hesitated before continuing on. You weren’t expecting him to take such an interest in chatting with you, let alone learning about your past that led you here.
“He was an Alpha who would not accept working alongside an Omega. He continually made lewd jokes and was inappropriate. It got to the point where I felt… unsafe.”
“I’m terribly sorry that happened to you.”
You looked over at him and smiled softly. It was the first time someone expressed sympathy surrounding your situation and it warmed your heart more than you could say.
“Thank you, the worst part was that the captain of my old ship wouldn't believe me since it didn't happen in front of them. The kicker was that I knew that if I was mated he would have left me alone. In that weird way where they don't respect me saying no, but my mate would deserve respect so hitting on ‘their Omega’ would cross a line.”
“You are un-mated?”
“Huh?” His question caught you off guard, being so wrapped up and heated about past events. You nearly choked on your stew again, seeing as that was the last thing you were expecting him to take from the conversation.
“Oh well, I've never had a partner, much less a mate.” You shrugged. It felt pathetic to admit it out loud but he seemed to hold no judgment for you.
“Hm. Do you not have a desire for a partner?”
“I do, however I have not found luck in the romance department yet. Smelling like fish and not being a complete pushover are apparently not appealing features in an Omega.” you tried to joke with a slight chuckle.
“To who?” he suddenly looked very defensive, as if he alone could change someone’s deep seeded opinion.
Not wanting to delve further into your lackluster lovelife, you attempt to change the conversation by asking, “So, you come here often?”
“I live here…”
“Right, I suppose I meant…” You faltered trying to come up with an excuse before adding, “Like you do this often?” Trying to make a comeback from failed flirtatious words that seemed to have flown over his head.
“Eat or discuss a rare beauty’s love life?”
Not for the first time in the night, you were stopped in your tracks. Your face flushed as his words affected you, the way in which you had previously hoped yours would him.
“Those are dangerous words to say to a vulnerable Omega on the edge of their heat.”
“I believe it is a waste of time to not go after what your heart desires. If I am not mistaken, your heart reciprocates the burning desire mine holds.” His eyes were charged with fire as he beheld your form.
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maxbegone · 7 months
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happy sunday/i keep forgetting it's actually sunday. my head's a mess, ignore me. are we tagging people now? i'm gonna tag @hrhwrites @iboatedhere @rmd-writes @kiwiana-writes and @lilythesilly
i hope the week treats you well ♥️
So one afternoon, Alex follows Oscar out to the barn to assess the damage in the loft. There’s a decently-sized hole from breakage, about a foot or so up and down, that they’re really going to have to get a jump on if they don’t want it to get worse. But there isn’t anything they can really do about it permanently until the weather clears. His dad mumbles under his breath about supplies as they at least patch it with an old piece of tarp.
“Los Bastardos are gonna have to get some more wood,” he says, hands on his hips as Alex stands on a stepladder affixing the tarp with a hammer. They’ve already moved the bed out of the way and removed the sheets to bring back to the house and let dry.
“You bringin’ shiner?” He grunts, and Oscar cackles.
“If you think I’m letting either you or Luna around shiner with an ax in hand, y’all are sorely mistaken. You two rile each other up enough, I don’t need to run a missing appendage back to the house because of it.”
It was worth a shot at least.
Oscar sighs. “I’ll think about bringing a flask. But I ain’t babysitting.”
“We’ll behave, Dad.” He leans back to assess his work. “How’s that?”
“Eh, I think it’s as good as we’re gonna get right now. Come on down.”
“Gladly.”
The tarp was an honest bitch to work with, what with the wind folding it back and nearly beheading Alex, if that’s at all possible. He’s cold and his hair is wet from the rain that came through, so he happily takes the towel that’s offered to him when he’s back on solid ground.
He points to the roof. “What are the odds that thing is just going to come off?”
“You used the nails right?” Oscar claps him on the shoulder. “We can’t control what we can’t control.”
“Since when are you all lax?”
“I’ve always been lax, you little shit,” he says, picking up the tool box. He turns back to Alex. “Your sister started making me meditate with her.”
“Oh my god, you’re kidding,” Alex gawks. “She got you into that, too?”
“All those years in California, never picked it up. Why not now?”
“Still,” Alex says, lifting up the hatch and making his way down the ladder. When he gets about halfway, Oscar passes him the toolbox. “Can’t believe she roped you in.”
“Your sister is persuasive.”
“Persuasive or nagging?”
When Oscar gets to the floor of the barn, he gives Alex a mild look. “Be nice.”
“I am nice. I’m the nicest person ever.”
His dad makes a noise as he heads down the line of stalls to where his horse, Poncio, is sticking his head out. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a treat, Poncio taking it from his open palm. “You think those two are really gonna head up to Niagara?”
Henry and Pez. Right.
Even after the conversation he had with Henry on the porch the other morning, he and Pez are still talking about it. He’s really not sure what to think about it. “They don’t really have anywhere else to go, right?”
“Does anyone?”
That’s true. Alex pushes off the wooden column he’s leaning against to stroke down Poncio’s neck. His coat is silky and black, and he throws his head up and down happily a few times before settling again. Alex chuckles. “I mean, they seem determined.” A beat. “Why?”
He eyes his dad tentatively as he takes a long pause, still focused on the horse. For a second, Alex thinks he didn’t hear him, but then he says, “It sounds like a suicide mission with a castle in the sky at the end.”
“What, you don’t think the Niagara safe haven even exists?”
“No, I believe it exists,” Oscar starts, “I just don’t believe in that whole reconnection thing they’re talking about. As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think there’s much effort from the people running these places. They care about keeping people in and the bad stuff out.”
Alex’s brow furrows. Unfortunately, he does agree a little bit. Mostly because he’s always assumed the safe havens were false hope. Military-run cities with tight curfews and propaganda. Sure, it might grant protection, but it seems like hell, especially from Raf’s stories and the very few they’ve gotten over the years from people they’ve traded with. And these so-called reconnection attempts? Alex just can’t wrap his head around that actually working out fruitfully. 
And yes, they have their own radios here so they can communicate with each other and Zahra and Shaan, and they occasionally pick up on another channel or frequency, but it’s localized. He’s not too sure about something so…worldwide.
“What if it was us?” Alex finds himself asking. “Do you think you’d believe in it more?”
Oscar turns to him with a mournful smile, one hand on Poncio’s muzzle. “I would burn the world down to find you and June again. And I sure as hell wouldn’t need a radio system to help me.”
Alex drops his gaze.
He steps over and places his hands on Alex’s shoulders. “I can only focus on what I have, right? What we have. I’ve got my kids, that’s all I need in the end. My worries start and end with you. So if those two believe that going to Niagara will help them find their families who are oceans away, then we can’t stop them and we can’t break their hope.”
It’s a fair and somber point. Alex nods.
“Look,” Oscar continues, “talk to Raf if you want another opinion.. He wasn’t in Weehawken long, but he was there long enough to know the ins and outs at the time. Or even Zahra; she’s had contacts in the zones since this shit started. Maybe it’ll be enlightening.”
So that’s exactly what Alex does.
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The thing is, though... Izzy is meant to irredeemable and unlikable. He was written with zero sympathy for him in text, he was written as an asshole who is malicious, disloyal, and cruel. He is ABUSIVE. He is emotionally manipulative, he gaslights, he makes verbal threats and physical assaults. He deliberately and strategically isolates Ed from his crew. He deliberately disobeys a direct order (an act of mutiny) against Ed when he doesn't stand down and duels Stede. He turns around and betrays Ed when he doesn't get what he wants. VIco is an abuse apologist Izzy stan just like you. And they, just like the rest of the cast, know that you disgusting cultists only care about Izzy. You don't give a shit about Ed, or Stede, or anyone else. You literally just flick your clits to Izzy being unpleasant and abusive. He has no redeeming qualities that weren't stolen from other characters or completely made up by fandom. He's not a good person. He's not a nice guy. His motives are selfish and cruel. He's lazy and he's racist. So you can like him. Because you're a piece of shit abuse apologist. And you and all the other Izzy cultists can hold your breath until you turn blue about how he's not the character he is. But he is. Izzy is not secretly the third protagonist. He's not going to turn around and save the day. He doesn't have a decent, self-sacrificing, genuinely good bone in his body. If there is a Jim/Izzy kiss, then you are hoping for the dissolution of Jim/Oluwande (I guess an ample-bodied, dark-skinned black man isn't good enough for you? But then again, all Izzy stans are ultimately shallow and stupid), and you are disgusting. You would rather Jim be with a man who is racist and cruel than a man who adores them. And you know what, you stupid cunt? Even if it does happen, it WOULDN'T automatically mean good things for Izzy. If Jim kisses him to distract him while other people escape, he's still a piece of shit abuser. But he'll be that regardless. Because he abusive. And he is the villain. There is no redeeming him. The show has made that perfectly fucking clear. He betrayed Ed. He threatened to kill Ed if Ed didn't do what he wanted. He is the thing Ed will have to overcome to truly be happy.
And you're disgusting.
Ok, first of all: Big fan! I've heard so much about you Anon! Second: this made me laugh so fucking hard. I needed a good laugh so thanks Anon! ❤
(Read-more for the sake of my followers dashes, I'm writing essays again lmfao.)
So like. You must hate Mary then too, yeah? Since she's meant to be Izzy's parallel? What do you think of David Jenkins telling us that 'Izzy is the one to watch on a re-watch'? Do you think he's worried we missed him being 'irredeemable'? See, cause I took that as 'see that there's nuance to his character and he's got pretty reasonable motivations if you pay attention' but now, well, I'm just not sure, Anon 😰.
Tell me, where is he malicious outside of, like, regular piracy business? When someone else instigates? Yeah, sounds about right, so cruel of him to not worship at a rich man's feet when said rich man acts like he's the scum of the earth before knowing a single thing about him. How malicious of him to not be buddy-buddy with people his boss has taken prisoner, who are actively antagonizing him. How disloyal of him to *checks notes* uh. Hm. Well. There's just- there's nothing here? Oh! Oh do you mean the thing he did to get to Stede? The thing that Calico Jack (hi, I also love him, does that make me extra problématique?) and Spanish Jackie helped him do? The thing he did because he believed it was in Ed's best interest, since he was acting wildly out of character and incredibly irrationally considering their dangerous profession/lifestyle? That must be on a different list, I don't have that listed under 'disloyal', strange.
Izzy can't even manipulate his own emotions lmfao. Gaslighting? Anon, you must be misremembering, gosh you're so silly. Can't keep anything straight in that head of yours can you? He lies sometimes, I'll give you that, at least by omission, but that's not gaslighting. I'm sure you'll not like this but Ed's actions with regards to Izzy are closer to gaslighting than anything Izzy does to Ed. Or the crew, which I'm assuming you're including in this since you mention 'physical assault' and Izzy's never laid a hand on Ed?
The same crew that he, as far as he was aware (because Ed was *gasp* manipulating him by withholding information), was to treat as prisoners who, upon completing their task of 'repair the ship so we can take it from you, since we're pirates' would be given 'the uzsh' treatment of execution? The crew that he doesn't lay a hand on at all afterwards? Ooh, or do you mean when he grabbed Fang's beard? When Fang was openly questioning his captain's orders? Something that, if unchecked, can lead to a mutiny?
Funny thing about 'he disobeys a direct order' is that, well, Ed doesn't give him a direct order? 'We're not doing this' does not equal 'stand down'. He also doesn't try to stop it. Like, at all. He doesn't even tell Stede to stand down. He may not have wanted it to happen but he didn't do anything to actually prevent it when he's literally the only person on the ship with the power to prevent it. 'Izzy I no longer want him dead', all he needed to say since Izzy was operating on 'Izzy I want him dead but I can't do it myself because I'm conflicted about killing and especially killing things I'm attached to'. If Izzy had ignored that, then we could talk about 'disobeying direct orders'.
Also, he's first mate, its his job to push back on questionable orders from the captain. That's not mutiny that's how you prevent a mutiny.
'When he doesn't get what he wants', being. . . What? What he thought Ed wanted because he didn't communicate otherwise? What he thought was in Ed's best interest, because he's acting irrationally and out of character (which is confirmed by Fang and Ivan, by the way)? He's wrong* about what Ed's best interests are but that doesn't change the fact that he was trying to help rather than harm.
*Arguably. Ed indulging Stede was dangerous. Even without the threat of the navy on their backs (Stede's fault), there was no coasting on Blackbeard's reputation on the Revenge. They'd have to deal with every threat instead of just the one's who'd go after Blackbeard anyway.
So, wait, is Vico one of us or nah? Cause, like, I'll gladly join a cult if Vico is there. What do you think about David Jenkins though? Since his favorite character seems to be Izzy as well? Anyway I'll grant that Stede isn't my favorite character but that hardly means I don't give a shit about him. As for Ed. I love him so much, Anon. I love him so much that I don't infantilize him for the sake of demonizing another character so that I can use that to justify sending anon hate to people with differing opinions to me. I love Ed because he's unpleasant and- *ahem* well.
Some nice misogyny there, by the way. Gonna go out on a limb and say a bit transphobic as well, since I know you're presuming we're all women, some of us are men, some of us are neither or both. Has some notes of sexual harassment too. No, I'm not kidding. You're fantasizing about a group of people, sexually, and sending them messages about it. That's like, textbook sexual harassment. Not cool Anon.
Anon. They're pirates. None of them are good people. None of them are nice guys. All of their motivations are selfish and cruel.
Ed 'loves a good maim'. He's Blackbeard. He's not Robin Hood. He doesn't have secret (or explicit) good motivations for piracy and torture and murder. Stede is a deadbeat dad who chose piracy. Which includes stealing from people, even the poor (do we forget the plant so easily?), despite him. Y'know. Being rich? And like, selfish and cruel are Stede and Ed's middle names, Anon. Turtle vs crab? Setting a ship on fire with everyone still inside? Doesn't matter if the fire was the one who killed them if you're the one who set the fire, Anon. Swede losing teeth/fingernails? But I wanna go on a treasure hunt! And let's not even bring up Mary and the kids.
'Lazy and racist', where? I am legitimately asking, Anon, where? Is it where he makes the crew do their actual jobs? That's his job. Oh, how about where, instead of getting captured by the native people for being a colonizer, he does business with them? (You know, the people who explicitly call out Stede and Pete for being racist?) How about working under and with BIPOC? You think Blackbeard would keep him around if he was being racist? You think Jackie would have given him the time of day if he was racist? You don't think Fang and Ivan would have had some comment about it during the mutiny/planning scene?
I'll do you a solid, you don't have to point to any particular scene that doesn't exist. The writers themselves have said that they're not trying to tackle racism in the show the way that having Izzy be anything but 'white person who is, by virtue of being white, some level of racist' would be. If you don't want to call literally every other sympathetic white character on the show racist, you shouldn't be saying it of Izzy either. Izzy isn't the one who owns a fucking plantation.
Anon, I'm so glad you're giving me permission to keep liking Izzy! Thank you so much! I'm so grateful the fandom has you here to delegate what people are allowed to like and do! What would we do without you?
Nobody thinks Izzy is 'secretly the third protagonist'. Not anymore than people think that of Jim or Oluwande or Frenchie, since they all have side-plots going on as well. As for whether or not he's going to turn around and save the day? We'll see. Obviously he's not going to do everything because he's not the protagonist(s), but he has the potential to try and help just as much as everybody else on either crew. You're certainly entitled to your opinion/interpretation of his character but I can just as well say 'I think you're wrong', especially when you come into my house and throw a fit about it.
Did you forget that Jim and Lucius kissed as well? Are you forgetting 'we don't own each other'? Hell, Anon, I specifically said 'I don't ship Jim and Izzy', but well. Something something 'people on this website piss on the poor' etc. (Anon, you can just say 'fat', its not a bad word. I'm fat, Oluwande is fat, I fucking love that he's fat. I'm also not the best suited to speak on BIPOC representation but I'm also super happy that they're not shying away from including dark-skinned actors like Samson and Leslie. But that doesn't fit into your narrative so 🤷‍♂️.) You can call me all the sweet things you like but it doesn't change the fact that the show has, pretty explicitly, said 'yay polyamory' and Jim (and Oluwande) has two hands. Leave alone the fact that Jim can kiss Lucius and just be friends with him, same as they could with Izzy.
Gosh, Anon, you're really hurting my feelings here. You really think I'm a stupid cunt? That hurts. Genuinely, I'm gutted. I don't think I'll ever recover.
Given that you're literally talking hypotheticals, as we all are, since we don't know what is going to happen in season 2, I'm not going to argue if it would 'mean good things for Izzy' if Jim kissed him. Though I will say, if Jim needed him distracted for people to escape (I'm assuming you mean escaping him, rather than Ed who is the proper threat to anyone in need of escaping right now) they could find easier ways to do it than kissing him?
And the sky is green. And cats are witches. And women have crystals in their bodies. I can say stuff too, Anon. I think you fundamentally misunderstand what redemption means, if we're being entirely honest here. Redemption has less to do with your previous actions and more to do with what you choose to do going forward. Clearly we disagree on his capacity for doing better going forward, and that's fine, its alright to be wrong Anon I won't judge you for that, but him having done bad in the past* has no bearing on his redemption if he chooses to do good in the future.
*'Bad' here being used both generously and ungenerously. Generously towards your definition of bad and ungenerously in the face of his rationale. He had perfectly valid reasons for doing the things he did, regardless of whether or not he should have done them.
I love you too Anon! I hope you have a good day at school tomorrow- er. On Monday, sorry, adult schedules don't always follow the 'weekends off' rules that kid's schedules do, I forget sometimes. Bye bye!
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