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tfrohock · 2 years

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The stages of grief and yes I'm writing about Twitter again

I know some folks are still locked in the denial, anger, bargaining, depression stages over the loss of Twitter to Elon Musk’s ego, but I’ve moved to acceptance. I got there about the time Musk allowed the rabble to take over again, and whether you decide to stay or go, I have some thoughts for you.

This is going to be long, so buckle up.

I want to begin by saying that Twitter did and does matter to a lot of people, especially to those who use the platform to market their own small businesses. If those people choose to stay because of the online collateral they've built over many, many years, no one should judge them for that.

Before Musk took over, I had almost 3,000 followers. That definitely made it worth my time to stay, I will definitely miss Twitter. It was a great place to pop in, catch up with friends and business, and pop out again.

Unfortunately, with Musk's continued degradation of the site and its brand, I've lost a good chunk of my followers, who have fled for what they perceive to be safer online communities. If I've lost the everyday users, who are there because they enjoy following authors, I've lost my audience, and while I enjoy being with my colleagues, I also follow many of them on various sites that lack the clown-car-on-fire/rage-machine Twitter is about to become.

I, like many others, cannot deactivate my account. If I deactivate my account, I lose the username @T_Frohock on Twitter, and that name can be assumed by anyone who wants it. That username is associated with me and my novels, so I consider it part of my brand, and I’m loathe to let it go. Maybe that’s part of my ego, but I also don’t want people pretending to be me contacting my agent or publisher on Twitter.

What I will do is remove any links to Twitter from my digital footprint wherever I'm able to do so (my website, my Goodreads page, etc.). I also won't be posting on Twitter. I will be checking my username/brand from time to time and also checking in with publishing professionals and other authors who have chosen to stay for as long as Twitter remains online.

However, I won't be spending a great deal of time there. Musk is counting on controversy to generate users and clicks, but I, for one, am exhausted by rich-people posturing and playing victim. I'm sure others are, too.

And those people who are sick of the controversies will leave.

What Musk doesn’t seem to understand, or doesn’t care about, is that advertisers will leave, too. The majority of advertisers don't want their various brands associated narcissistic-Nazi-vaccine-denying weirdos and their disinformation. Companies, whether they be big or small, tend to protect the sanctity of their brand as zealously as they guard their corporate secrets. Because of Twitter's degradation, they’ll choose to spend their online marketing time and advertising dollars elsewhere.

For those who choose to stay:

You are in charge of your feed and what you see. Cultivate it carefully. When it comes to trolls, block liberally and frequently if the need arises. Don’t engage. Also, let your followers know that you're not going to tolerate disinformation or the spread of fascist propaganda—even to dunk on it. Then act accordingly and mercilessly.

Set boundaries and stick to them. None of us need people around us, either IRL or online, who do nothing but try to antagonize us. Personally, I'm angry enough without anyone's help.

If you have any apps connected with Twitter, I highly suggest you revoke all permissions immediately if you haven't already. Twitter's security team is all but gone, and while some like to say Twitter is still there and isn't going anywhere, it's just coasting until a major hack takes the site down.

Begin looking for another site in which to build community. I know many have said that Twitter is their last stand, and that's okay, too. Trust me, I feel your pain in starting over somewhere, and like I said earlier, many have built a great deal of collateral on Twitter. Hang onto it as long as you can.

Just keep in mind, free websites/social media sites never remain free or stable forever. You're in control, so I always recommend that authors diversify their digital presence as much as possible and always have a Plan B. That way, you can begin moving your followers to your new site before Twitter goes down completely, and it probably will.

Musk will most likely file for a Chapter 11 bankruptcy. This will give him a chance to renegotiate many of his loans but keep control of Twitter. During this process, Twitter might experience downtime. Be ready for that eventuality, especially if you depend on Twitter for sales.

Also keep in mind that Musk is now in violation of several other countries' labor laws and the EU's Global Privacy Compliance (GDPR). These countries will take down access to Twitter, which won't hurt people who can access VPN's, but many will have a great deal of difficulty accessing the site. And in the US, Twitter has made itself so much a part of everyone's daily lives that even Congress is threatening to bring the FCC into the fray, which could affect all social media through regulations. Regardless of where you are, your reach will impacted governmental changes, whether they are in your country of origin or not.

With the amount of Russian and Chinese influence that will soon be flowing through disinformation, Musk is also opening the gate to national security issues. There’s nothing like having the FBI and NSA following your money trails with the scariest of agents: forensic accounts.

They don’t have guns, they have brains, and they know how to find your secrets and your off-shore accounts.

Talk about a rich person’s horror story.

Anyway, whether they find anything or not, the legal and accounting fees will be stunning, but I suppose that doesn't bother anyone with money to burn. For folks like you and me, the security issues will eventually result in congressional oversight and regulation, so keep one eye on any forthcoming legal changes and how or if they may impact you.

The lack of moderation and the reemergence of extremists might cause Google Play and the Apple App stores to drop Twitter. (See also, Truth Social.) That, too, will limit your audience and reach, because not as many people will be able to download the app.

None of this will happen overnight, or maybe it will. I know I honestly thought it would be a year before Musk destroyed Twitter, but if he remains on course, it may be gone by the end of the year. There are so many nails that can go into this coffin, it’s hard to determine which one will be the final one.

As for me, I think I will be landing on Hive Social as my post-Twitter spot for interaction. I’m @tfrohock there. Be patient. It’s a new site and there are only a few people manning it. They weren’t quite prepared for Twitter to go down so soon, so it’s kind of glitchy right now.

They have a moderation policy, and in a lot of ways, it feels clean and nice. If you followed me on Twitter, you may follow me there and I’ll usually follow back; although, I need to see something in your profile and your timeline. The app works great on an iPhone, but it’s glitchy on an android right now. They don’t have a web version of the site yet, either. I’ve marked my spot and when they get a web version, I’ll be there much more often.

In the meantime, I’ll watch for you.

#Twitter

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stephanidftba · 2 years

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Things I noticed in Encanto

Image description: a teal skirt with colorful embroidery of flowers, a toucan, and the name Mirabel laying under a desk-type sewing machine. End ID.

Mirabel embroiders her own clothing, another thing that sets her apart from her family

Image description: Isabela in bed, swinging her long hair to cover Mirabel at her door in the background. End ID.

Isabela literally blocking Mirabel out

Image description: close up of Abuela’s waistband, where a butterfly decoration hangs with 2 pocketwatches and a key. End ID.

What is this and why is Abuela wearing it?

Image description: Mirabel sitting on her bed with Antonio’s present in her lap. We can see drawings on the wall, Mirabel has colored on the wall itself and drawn colored tiles on the wooden floorboards, and drawn animals on the ox of Antonio’s gift, as well as Mirabel’s own embroidered outfit and bag. End ID.

Mirabel is super creative! She decorates so much, she created the candleholders for each member of the family (though she didn’t place them in a great spot), she sewed a stuffed animal for Antonio... This might fit in thematically with how she feels hidden and unnoticed and wants to be seen.

Image description: close up of Mirabel. End ID.

This is just after Julieta says “Bruno lost his way in this family” and it got me thinking that Mirabel’s green glasses could be a parallel to Bruno’s green eyes and how they’re the “family weirdos”.

Image description: a recent family portrait of all the Madrigals (except Bruno), Mirabel has her arms crossed and is smiling uncomfortably as Luisa has an arm wrapped around Mirabel’s chest. End ID.

Thank you Luisa for making sure your little sister was in the shot!

Image description: Luisa holding a number of boulders above her head, lit in red light. End ID.

Immediately after the break in ‘Surface Pressure’, Luisa’s voice and animation are totally free of any type of aggression, she’s just sad.

Image description: Pepa shoving Felix and Mirabel apart (at the beginning of ‘We Don’t Talk About Bruno’). End ID.

Pepa’s hands are on Mirabel’s chest and Felix’s FACE. Pepa is not happy with her husband right now!

Image description: Dolores singing that her love would be “betrothed to another” immediately followed by flowers appearing in front of her. End ID.

Does this count as foreshadowing? We don’t know for sure at this point in the movie that Dolores likes Mariano...

Image description: Pepa looking nervous, stroking her hair. End ID.

I’m choosing to believe that this is a stim.

Image description: Camilo serving Pepa tea and helping her breathe deeply. End ID.

Camilo being a helpful son to his anxious mom is ADORABLE, but what I love almost as much is the raindrop wallpaper and weathervane on the table!

Image description: Isabella creating a vine of sundew as she sings “Careful, it’s carnivorous, a little just won’t do.” End ID.

Image description: close up of Isabela, her pastel pink and purple dress covered in blue so dark it’s almost black, with splashes of red and yellow powder. Her black hair has yellow-green powder in it. End ID.

Isa feels free to not be perfect and goes HARD in the other direction, and I love that for her. Making carnivorous plants, dyeing her clothes dark colors, I support alt girl Isa.

Image description: Bruno awkwardly getting off a horse, ending up backwards. End ID.

Where did Bruno get a horse? Did he explain who he is to the townsfolk? Did he just take it?

Image description: Isabela, Luisa, and Mirabel smiling at each other having just put potted cacti in a planter box. End ID.

Mirabel planted Isa’s accidental cactus! She loves her sister!

Image description: Casa Madrigal half rebuilt, captions show “the seasons change in turn”. End ID.

How long did rebuilding take? Where did everyone live? Did Pepa and Felix have to talk Antonio out of sleeping in the forest with the animals? Did Dolores sleep well with regular hearing?

Image description: the new front door to Casa Madrigal, with all 12 Madrigals on it.

The new door even has the papas!

Image description: the final family portrait, with all 12 Madrigals (and Antonio’s jaguar). End ID.

I will never be over Casita being a little shit, Agustín’s arms, and Isabela trying to catch her little cousin <3

If anyone wants to talk to me about any of this, please feel free.

#encanto #long post #stephanidftba

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writerofshit · 3 years

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(I mentioned briefly a story of how the Stream Team met. This is that story.)

Somewhere in Los Santos, in the late night hours of a Tuesday, a convenience store is robbed. So is one several blocks southeast. And one roughly in the middle of them both. After all, what's more convenient than 24 hour chili dogs on every other street corner?

Cash. Cash is more convenient. So are guns. Hollering, waving one to get the other. Most important, back alleys that twist and turn, snaking away from increasingly distant sirens. Three individuals find themselves running through these alleys, a couple grand each weighing their pockets down.

It's through serendipity and convenience that their paths cross.

The man from the farthest store arrives first. He's done this a few more times than he'd like to admit, so he'd had a plan. Of sorts. Cut through the park, take a few sidewalks like an upstanding citizen, under the bridge and find a fire escape to utilize from there. There aren't any that reach the ground, of course, because he's smart but not quite enough.

And so this is why Trevor is standing in an dark alley, contemplating whether or not the dumpster will give him enough height to reach the ladder, when the man from the middle store appears. He's around Trevor's height, but would probably win in a fight between them, if he were so inclined. He doesn't seem to be, though. He seems shaken, like he's not quite sure how he ended up in this alley. He's holding a gun almost gingerly, as if it might bite him.

Trevor pulls his own gun.

'dont you fuckin' try anything!'

This does not go over well with Matt. He takes a step back, and then seems to remember that he also has a gun so maybe this is even footing. He holds it aloft, finger nowhere near the trigger.

'same, asshole!'

At this moment the robber from the first store arrives, also, of course, with a gun. And a mask. And an entire purple and orange neon fucking suit, actually, topped with a white cowboy hat. It gives them a few extra inches of height they are distinctly lacking, comparatively. Somewhere in the back of his head, Trevor acknowledges that this newcomer could probably kick his and the other gunman's asses. It is not a pleasant thought.

'oh, what the fuck!?'

Jeremy sounds more annoyed and less scared than one would think, considering they've run into an alley only to find two men with guns. Two men who quickly turn those guns on them.

'who the fuck are you?'

The question surprises them all, including Matt, even though he's the one who asked. As it turns out, people have a tendency to say the first thing that comes to mind when in a stressful situation. Such as, having robbed a convenience store for the very first time and immediately finding himself face to face with other apparent robbers. It would get to anyone, probably.

'i don't want any trouble, but i've already robbed someone tonight and i don't give a shit about felony murder!'

Two lies and a truth, is what Trevor has chosen to play, for some reason. In reality, one does not rob a convenience store at gun point if one is intent on staying out of trouble. And he does, in fact, care very deeply about felony murder. Felony murder is the precise reason he'd shot a bag of Doritos and not a clerk. In his defense, the clerk had initially rolled her eyes at him, asked what exactly he thought he'd get out of this. He'd found this question rude.

The truth, of course, is that he did rob a convenience store. That did happen. No take backs.

'so did i!'

Matt and Jeremy speak so in unison it's almost scary. If they didn't know any better, they'd think the two of them had always known each other.

Trevor's gun wavers between them, unsure which is the bigger threat. The guy who clearly has zero experience with guns, or the weirdo who seems to have far too much? It's a toss up, really. So his aim pinballs back and forth, but his finger does not curl around the trigger. He's serious about that felony murder thing.

The air seems to shift, suddenly, and the sound of sirens is now growing closer. This evidently also annoys Jeremy, and they throw a glance over their shoulder to the direction they'd come from. Red and blue lights flicker past.

'shit. ok. we're all robbers, i guess, and we're all fucked if we keep standing here. who's got a plan?'

Jeremy's eyes are staring impatiently at Trevor. Eyes being the only part of their face Trevor can see. And their hands, a plastic bag in one and a gun in the other.

Trigger finger is an apt name.

He glances at Matt, still wild eyed and glancing back and forth. No, Matt probably does not have a plan. He sort of gives the impression that he's never had a plan ever, actually. That perhaps he'd simply woken up here and decided to wing it. So Trevor makes an offer.

'fire escape?'

There's another moment of tense silence. Well, minus the sirens. And oh, helicopters. Even better. Jeremy shrugs.

'good a plan as any.'

And then they're off, brushing past Trevor and hoisting themself up onto the dumpster. He knew it could work. Trevor blinks and Jeremy has caught the ladder, is quickly working their way up. Shit, how does five foot something manage to get that high on a good day, much less in this situation and with a bag and gun in hand?

Matt's gun clatters to the ground, and honestly, that's probably for the best. He's climbing onto the dumpster now, and he mutters something about not signing up for this shit. Trevor reminds him that he apparently robbed someone, so yeah, he kind of did.

Before Trevor climbs up, he shoves his gun into his jacket pocket. Smart? Probably not. Convenient? More so than climbing with a gun in his hand. He follows Matt up the ladder, wondering what happened to his plan. Yeah, the ladder had been involved. Two other people, however, were not.

Above them, glass shatters.

'warning, maybe!?'

'oops. careful, there's glass.'

Jeremy's voice is no longer directly above them. Instead, it comes from one story up and a little to the left. So they've broken into an apartment. Sure, add breaking and entering to the list of charges, that sounds great. But Matt and Trevor follow, because there's not really another option.

Inside the apartment, Jeremy's mask is gone. The suit is quickly disappearing as well, revealing a rather boring outfit of a white tank top and...sweatpants? The true mystery lies in where the cowboy hat has gone to, because that's a hard item to miss.

'do we really have time for this? don't you think someone might, oh, i don't know, wake up and call the cops?'

Trevor doesn't mean to hiss, it's just that he's sure there's more pressing matters to attend to than an outfit change. Continuing to flee, perhaps.

'nobody's gonna wake up.'

They don't even have the wherewithal to lower their voice. It registers to Trevor that Jeremy's bag and gun are missing as well. Had they dropped them on the way up? It was certainly possible. Trevor thinks he would have noticed a gun flying past his head, but there's a lot going on.

'can we maybe not kill anyone? he brought up a good point with that felony murder thing.'

It's the most words Matt has strung together since he'd shown up. It's damn near a whisper, but at least it's progress.

'i'm not- god, can you two shut up? i gotta make a phone call.'

Jeremy yanks the door open, hand carefully wrapped in the fabric of their shirt. For a moment, Trevor thinks they're leaving and steps forward to follow Jeremy. Instead, Jeremy turns and heads toward the kitchen, pulling open a drawer and digging inside it briefly. They come back with a cell phone.

Something dawns on Trevor.

'is this- do you live here? did you break your own window?'

Jeremy doesn't answer. They put the phone to their ear.

'you're gonna wanna hide whatever you've got. and try not to look like you just climbed in through a window.'

And then-

'hello? yes, hi, i'd like to report a break in, i think? i was hearing a bunch of sirens and then i don't know what happened but some guy just broke my window? he ran through and i just- my friends and i are really scared and we didn't know what to do- yes, we're ok, he's gone, but we- you'll send someone? ok, thank you. the address? oh, uh, it's the del perro heights building, apartment 7. should i shut the door? no, don't touch anything. ok- guys, don't touch anything, she said someone's on their way to check on us! thank you so much- no, i think we'll be fine. thank you.'

It's a marvelous performance. Jeremy genuinely sounds like some poor flustered victim of a crime. Trevor would applaud if he thought Jeremy would appreciate it. Almost immediately, their voice is back to normal.

'check things out my ass. they're gonna show up, ask which way he went and never call me again. feel real fuckin safe.'

Jeremy settles themself onto the couch, choosing the spot closest to the door. Matt, who has apparently gotten over his initial terror, wanders into the kitchen. Searching for something to distract himself, if Trevor had to guess. Trevor is still standing in the middle of the living room, dumbfounded. How did a simple robbery become hanging out with other robbers, waiting for cops to show up?

'i'm jeremy, by the way. they won't ask, but y'know. just in case.'

They're flipping channels on the tv, seeming to arbitrarily skip almost a dozen programs. Finally, they settle on one and stand. Trevor recognizes it as an old Disney movie, and desperately wants to ask why the fuck Jeremy has put this on.

'uh, hi. i'm trevor. why are we watching Mulan?'

'matt. oh hell yeah, i love this movie!'

He sounds remarkably cheerful, considering the circumstances. How Trevor had seemingly switched places with Anxious McGee is beyond him. He needs to get it together. He pulls his gun from his pocket and takes it to the kitchen, sticking it in the drawer Jeremy had taken the phone from. There are several other phones of varying price point. He steps back to the living room just in time.

'that's why.'

They don't elaborate. Apparently Trevor is meant to just figure this out on his own, which ordinarily he might be able to do. After the course of events of this particular evening? Not a chance.

But he can't ask, because now there's a cop in the doorway and he's staring at Trevor and that will never be a good thing. Trevor stares back. He has no clue what he's meant to say. Hello? Welcome? He went that way?

'oh thank god! we've been so terrified, we didn't know if he'd come back or what he'd do.'

Naturally, Jeremy has taken lead on this. They're a phenomenal actor, Trevor has to admit.

'did you see which direction he went?'

'toward the stairs, i think. we've all been rooted to the spot, you know, it's so scary-'

Matt freezes in the doorway of the kitchen. He's just out of the view from the front door.

'right, well. you boys did the right thing by calling. can you give me a description of the man?'

The corner of Jeremy's mouth quirks.

'gosh, it all just happened so fast. taller than me, probably, but shorter than you, wouldn't you say, trey?'

Trevor nods, because he's not quite sure what else to do.

'alright, thank you. someone will be in touch with you for an official statement. in the meantime, if you remember anything else don't hesitate to call.'

He's holding a card out to Trevor, of all people. He takes it carefully, like if he does it wrong somehow the guy will know and arrest them all. The card is simply the number for a tip line.

As suddenly as he'd arrived, the cop is gone and they're all breathing sighs of relief. Jeremy closes the door.

'you guys can stay for Mulan, if you want.'

So they do.

Trevor asks about why Mulan again, and Jeremy explains that they assume most people have seen it, could answer any questions about it if they came up. Perhaps, if LSPD officers were less incompetent, they would have. Although if that were the case, they wouldn't be LSPD officers at all.

Matt asks about the window, and Jeremy says yes, they did break their own window. Of course they'd had an actual plan when they'd entered the alley. They were always going to end up exactly here, give or take the extras. Asking for a plan was simply a test, determining the merit in bring them along. They'd passed.

Jeremy asks if they want to stay for Mulan II, which is apparently up next. They do.

Somewhere in Los Santos, in the early morning hours of a Wednesday, three convenience stores are recovering from three separate robberies. Right in the middle of them all, their respective robbers are sitting on a couch together, watching a straight to video children's film.

It is the beginning of something far greater than any of them can imagine.

#is this dumb? maybe. did i have way too much fun writing it? absolutely.#is this how any of this would go irl? god no. is it still fun? hell yeah.#fahc #fake ah crew #ks writes

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ncssian · 3 years

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A Favor: Part Eight

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: happy year of nessian everybody!!

***

Nesta’s glasses are on her nightstand when she wakes. Blinking blearily, she slips them on and props herself up in bed, dazed and confused. A glance at the alarm clock tells her it’s five in the morning.

How did she get here? How long has she been asleep? Reaching over to click her lamp on, her eyes tear up at the sudden stream of light. Looking around wildly, her gaze catches on something on the wall across from her bed.

It’s a painting of a shimmering autumnal forest, hung up neatly as if it’s always been there. Slowly, memories of the night before begin to seep back in.

There was a festival. A warm day that became freezing and ugly when she lost sight of Cassian, and her glasses—

Her hands reach up to touch her intact glasses. They were broken, and then there was a blur of consciousness that only became clear once again when she found Cassian—

Oh, god. Cassian. She remembers now.

But it must have been a dream. Her glasses are fine and her painting is right here, as if the anxiety of last night was all in Nesta’s head.

She pulls her glasses off, only to find brand new wiring staring back at her. Someone has carefully wired the bridge of her spectacles back together and given the whole thing a much needed polish, leaving them looking the same but different.

Slowly, she puts them back on.

It’s way too early to think about this. Kicking the covers off, Nesta realizes she’s in the same clothes she fell asleep in. When it registers that Cassian was the one who carried her up to bed, pulled her coat and boots off, and tucked her in neatly, she almost falls back into the pillows and stays there. Instead, she hurriedly changes out of her jeans and into flannel pants, hoping an early breakfast will allow her to forget the night before.

Not that she wants to forget it. She’d just— rather save those thoughts for later, when the reality of it isn't pressed up so close to her. Because really, what happened last night came straight out of her extensively detailed daydreams. She doesn’t know what to do with the fact that it wasn’t a daydream.

Padding downstairs, Nesta freezes at the entryway to the kitchen when she realizes the light over the island is on. Under the warm glow, Cassian is asleep at the marble counter, his head pillowed by his arms. An open laptop and a cold mug of half-finished coffee sits in front of him.

This isn’t good, Nesta thinks. This is the reality she's supposed to be avoiding right now.

And yet— he looks so soft, so tired. Maybe if she’s really quiet…

She slams her toe into a barstool halfway into the kitchen. Grabbing her foot and hissing, she looks up at the ceiling and curses everything that ever was. Across from her, Cassian’s body jerks, and then he’s wide awake.

“Nesta?” he blinks sleepily when he notices her. One side of his face is red from where he fell asleep on his arms. “What are you doing here?”

Nesta quickly straightens. “I could ask the same of you.”

Cassian finally looks around, taking notice of where he is. “Right,” he mutters to himself. “I was supposed to be working.”

Nesta frowns at him. “You shouldn’t pull all-nighters. Go sleep in your room.”

“Actually…” Cassian is looking at Nesta as if he’s seeing her for the first time. “I was wondering if we could talk—”

The excuse blurts out at his words: “I need to pee.” Before he can say anything else, Nesta is legging it to the hall bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

Breathing out a sigh, she slides down the wall to the floor and pulls her legs to her chest. So much for getting breakfast.

Cassian doesn’t try coming after her or knocking on the door, thank god. She stays in the bathroom until she’s positive that he’s gone back upstairs, and only then does she take the time to consider what a fucking weirdo she’s being— weirder than usual, that is. And it’s all because of him.

With the last couple of months she’s had, Nesta would think that she’s gotten better at adjusting to changes in her thorough plans. But the possibility of allowing romance back into her life is so far out of the scope of her imagination, she doesn’t know what to do with it. After all, Tomas was a fluke gone colossally wrong. Where could Cassian possibly fit into her loveless story?

Nesta chews on a nail. She needs help.

***

Cassian doesn’t try to bring up their kiss again after the incident in the kitchen. Things return to normal between them, to the point where Nesta questions if that night at the festival even happened. There’s no foreign tension or elephant in the room; there’s only Cassian and Nesta, like it has been since the beginning.

Nesta doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Either way, she’s gotten away with it.

At least that’s what she thinks, until one early morning she wakes at the feeling of a warm hand stroking lines up and down her arm.

She’s certain she’s dreaming, and is content to remain ensconced in this softness when she hears the soft murmur of her name. Her eyelids flutter open, and then comes the realization that she is very much not dreaming.

“Cassian?” Her voice is thick. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to get up,” he whispers.

She clears the sleep out of her eyes, glancing around for her alarm clock. “What time is it—?”

“Five-thirty in the morning,” he says lowly. Her room is still dark, but she can make out his soft smile above her. “I want to show you something, but you’ve gotta get up, Nesta.”

Irritation floods Nesta at the realization that she only got four hours of sleep. Right now, she’s willing to strangle Cassian with her bare hands for another four.

“In what world,” she burrows deeper into her blankets, “would I ever get up before nine a.m. for you?”

“You’re not even a little bit curious about what I want to show you?” He clicks the lamp on, and Nesta hisses at the flood of light hitting her eyes. Squinting without her glasses, she can see that he’s fully dressed.

“What the hell, Cassian,” she mumbles into her pillow.

“You don’t have to get dressed,” he promises as he starts dragging the comforter away from her. “Just put your shoes and glasses on and you can sleep in the truck.”

Nesta is more awake at that, because she doesn’t hate the idea of taking a ride in Cassian’s truck. The promise of heated seats doesn’t hurt, either.

“I’m taking the blanket,” she says as she clambers out of bed.

“There’s already some in the truck,” Cassian says. “Just come on, will you?”

Grumbling, she grabs her glasses and lets him lead her downstairs and out to the truck. Shivering in her boots, Nesta wonders if she’ll have to kill Cassian if this doesn’t pay off.

“You know, we wouldn’t be doing this if you hadn’t called stargazing overrated last week,” Cassian says as he gets into the driver’s seat. The door slams shut behind him, blocking out the freezing wind. The engine is already warmed up and the heater is on full blast.

Nesta sighs at the heat, her clamped muscles loosening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You said mornings were prettier than nights.” Cassian pulls onto the lone road that leads away from the cabin. “I brought hot chocolate, by the way.” He gestures to a thermos in the cupholder between them.

Nesta ignores him. “Just because mornings are nice doesn’t mean I want to be awake to experience them. If this is going to be one of your ungodly early workout activities…” she trails off threateningly.

“Shut up and drink your hot chocolate,” he chuckles. He shoves the thermos into her cold hands.

Nesta mutters something that Cassian chooses not to hear, but relents and takes a sip from the thermos. It’s warm and perfect, and doesn’t do her any help in keeping alert. The drive turns steep and winding, and Nesta soon realizes that they’re moving away from town and deeper into the mountains. Her curiosity is stifled by her sleepiness, however, and soon she has to lean her head against the fogged window and close her eyes, succumbing to the gentle rhythm of the journey.

Sometime later, she feels the truck reverse into a complete stop. “Wait here,” Cassian says. She hears him unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the truck, but is unwilling to open her eyes and give up the last few minutes of rest she has. Time blurs, and then there’s a knock on her window. Groggily, Nesta sits up as Cassian opens the passenger side door.

“C’mon,” he urges, reaching out to pick Nesta up by the waist and setting her down on the ground. Shivering in the freezing dawn air, she looks around at where Cassian has brought them.

They’ve parked on a familiar high lookout that overlooks the entire city. In the blue light of pre-dawn, the town reminds Nesta of a sleeping giant nestled deep in the valley. She’s never been here this early before.

Taking her hand, Cassian urges her around to the back of the truck, facing the lookout.

“Oh,” Nesta says when she finally sees. “Wow.”

The truck bed is decked out more than a Christmas tree. Pillows and heavy blankets decorate the space, and strings of lights are woven throughout the whole thing. Still holding her hand, Cassian helps her climb into the bed before following after her.

“It’s only a few minutes to dawn,” Cassian says once he’s settled beside her. “I almost thought we wouldn’t make it in time.”

“You did all of this…” she says slowly, “so we could watch the sunrise?”

“Pretty much,” he nods.

Nesta might be inexperienced in a lot of things, but even she can’t deny what this is. Platonic friends don’t make a date out of watching the sunrise together, especially not if said friends have recently shared a passionate kiss. This is a romantic move.

She freezes in her spot. She wasn’t prepared for this, and now Cassian’s shoulder is painfully close to her shoulder and she doesn’t know if she should lean in or move away.

Before she can decide, Cassian says, “Watch.”

She faces forward at Cassian’s command, relieved to have something to do. Because there over the rim of the valley, the gray-blue sky is coming awake with streaks of pink and gold.

At the sight of first light, a calming sensation floods Nesta. For a few minutes, she forgets Cassian, forgets the cold. There is only dawn and— peace. A peace she’s never felt in all the times she’s driven up here before.

Golden light halos the mountains and streams over to their small little truckbed. The sky is on fire just to greet them. Nesta releases a breath, in awe or relief she doesn’t know.

“Can’t run away now.”

Nesta whirls from the sunrise to face Cassian. “What do you mean?”

He’s watching her closely. “You know, the last time I felt like this was during a certain fall festival.”

She glances away at the admission. “Right,” she mutters.

“What about you?” he nudges patiently. “Did you feel anything at the festival?”

Yes. A lot of things.

“Look,” Nesta starts. She’s about to turn him away when the sudden urge to be honest overtakes her. Something about the morning sun demands truth and vulnerability from her, and she wants to give it.

“I haven’t kissed anybody in forever,” she admits. “It was… a lot. In a very good way, at least in the moment.” She’s not sure of what she’s saying.

“Is it not good anymore?” For once, Cassian looks incapable of teasing her. Like he’s terrified of saying the wrong thing and scaring her away.

Nesta shakes her head quickly. “No, no, it’s still good. It’s just— confusing. The implications of kissing your roommate is confusing.”

Are friends who kiss each other just supposed to jump into relationships right afterward? Nesta can’t even comprehend such a thing. After all, wanting Cassian isn’t the same thing as wanting a relationship.

He chews on his lip for a long moment. “Nothing has to happen,” he finally says. “We don’t have to do anything now, or even ever. But can we at least admit that there’s something there? Because I definitely feel something for you. I have for a long time.”

That last sentence is quieter, and Nesta stiffens at the honesty of it. “Then why are you telling me just now?”

“It’s real now.”

He doesn’t have to explain what he means. She knows the feeling all too well— how the vague crush she was nursing for weeks got blown into something intense and tangible in the span of a night. How she can’t go anywhere now without tasting Cassian in her mouth.

“It’s real for me, too,” Nesta breathes.

His face breaks into a slow smile. “Good to know.”

Before Nesta can think about whether they’ll kiss again or not, Cassian tugs at her elbow, pulling her downward until they’re both laying on their backs among the pillows and blankets. He shuffles around for a bit, and then a fur throw is tossed over both of their bodies.

He turns to face her under the new warmth with a smirk. “So, was this worth getting up early for?”

Nesta looks up at the sky so she doesn't have to meet his bright eyes. “It’s better than any other time I’ve come here, that’s for sure.”

Cassian perks at that. “You’ve been here before?”

Nesta frowns. She doesn’t want those memories intermingling with this moment.

“I used to come here a lot,” she says bluntly. “In my undergrad days, to think and stuff.”

“Think about what?” he asks.

She closes her eyes, remembering. “Whether I should leave my boyfriend or not. Whether I was on the right career path or not. Whether I should drive off the lookout or not.”

Cassian huffs a laugh and then pauses at her tone. “Wait— are you serious?”

“About which part?”

“The last one.”

Nesta realizes how that came off. “It wasn’t like that,” she defends. “I was just… very tired all the time. I wanted a way out of it. I didn’t need to drive off a cliff, though.” Her mouth purses. “I just needed to cut some people out of my life. I got a lot better after that.”

Cassian is quiet for a long moment, thinking. “Did your ex make you feel like that?”

It’s Nesta’s turn to be quiet. “Yeah,” she says eventually.

“He sounds like a piece of shit.”

She raises her brows. “How do you know that?”

Cassian shrugs. “You said he didn’t like you while you were dating. That’s all I need to know.”

She’s surprised he even remembers her telling him that.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better though,” he says.

“Me too.”

The whole sky is brightened by now, and far below, people start waking up to go about their day. “What about you?” Nesta speaks up. She realizes they never talk about him, not really. “What were your exes like?”

Cassian hums. “I don’t really have any exes.”

Nesta makes a face. “What does that mean?”

He shrugs. “It means I’ve never had a real girlfriend.”

She looks at him like he’s insane. “You’ve never had a girlfriend?” With that face and body and personality? He’s playing another joke on her.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I’ve had lots of hookups, some longer than others, but none of them involved serious feelings.” He seems to realize what this means. “Actually,” he says quickly, “let’s talk about something else.”

“No.” Nesta sits up. “I want to know more.”

Cassian follows her up. “You didn’t even want to acknowledge our kiss less than ten minutes ago!”

She holds up a hand, her mind full of too many revelations at once. “So you’ve never been in love? Or come close to being in love?”

“Have you?”

“For a short time, yes,” Nesta nods. How else would she have stayed with Tomas for so long?

Cassian must realize what she means, because he clenches his jaw and looks away. “Well, I haven’t. I might have had a crush or two on my friends in high school, but I outgrew them quick enough.”

Nesta lets this new information sink in, feeling her perspective of Cassian shifting permanently. “And where do I fit in? In all of this?”

He props his elbows on his knees, lips turned downward. “I never thought about it until you made it sound so important. I thought neither of us knows what we’re doing.”

Nesta scoffs. “I never said I know what I’m doing.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Can we leave it at that, then? Take things slow while we figure out—” He waves an arm between them. “You know.”

There aren’t words for Nesta’s relief. Here she was worried she’d be pushed into something she wasn’t ready for, when Cassian is really just as lost as she is. For once, she doesn’t feel like he has the upper hand. For once, she’s not the extraneous variable.

She clears her throat. “Hey, Cassian?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for fixing my glasses.” The words have been sitting in her stomach since the morning after the festival. “And for the painting.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

***

Nesta’s first paycheck arrives the week before Thanksgiving.

“Wow,” she says for the third time in three minutes, gaping at the account balance on her phone. “That’s a lot of numbers.”

She didn’t keep track of how many hours she worked for Night Court Inc. this month, but she knows it wasn’t enough to justify this amount of money. It’s enough to pay for her car and endo treatments and then some.

She can’t remember the last time she had this much extra money to spend. She doesn’t think she ever did.

Cassian comes up behind her in the kitchen and peeks over her shoulder. He whistles lowly at the deposit amount, but ruffles her hair and beams proudly. “First paycheck. What are you gonna use it for?”

Nesta stares at the number on her phone screen and knows what she wants. She’s wanted— needed— it for a while, but her talks with Cassian have helped her realize… “I’m getting a therapist.”

***

a/n: hey everybody, i'm popping in to kindly ask y'all to be patient with the slower updates from now on, because i know exactly where i want this story to go but i don't want to rush the journey. i also want time to work on other fics and my original wips in the new year, and i can’t do that unless i lower some of the expectations for these fic updates. that being said, i’m so unbelievably grateful for all your support up until now!!! i don’t want you to feel forgotten. i’m very much still involved with and working on this story, and the good stuff is just about to begin! up next: the holidays bring about some revelations for everybody.

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01

#a favor #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta #ncssianwrites #nessian fic

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dabi0118 · 3 years

Text

Yo! Reaper popping in~

As you know, Touya and I are on a bit of a hiatus, but we'll be back around the end of the week.

But I'd like to make an announcent/ disclaimer for my purge posts and everyone involved in them!

First of all

The reason we do purge posts is to spread awareness and help people avoid accounts run by minors. We do this because PERSONALLY we are uncomfortable interacting with minors. WE are the ones who will be affected by the law. WE are adults and we are responsible for our actions, and we have a responsibility to make sure you don't get caught up in OUR affairs. As minors, you don't get to make that choice. We don't post this shit for fun.

BUT

you get to make the choice of whether or not to interact with us. That's an active decision YOU make. And if you lie about your age or ignore the blog rules, it is MY JOB to post you up here to spread awareness and block you. Again, I don't feel bad for doing that. You chose to lie to me, so I'm choosing to expose you. Simple as that.

ANOTHER THING.

I don't pity you. Don't even try guilt tripping me into talking to you about it. And I don't trust you. Unless I see solid proof that you AREN'T a minor, I will continue to label you as so. I am not going to take your word for it only to get listed as a sex offender later. Sorry, I'm protecting myself.

SECOND OF ALL.

To anyone who somehow sees these purge posts and thinks the dumb idea of - "Hey let me send harassment/death threats/ hate" I simply detest you. That's unnecessary. Just block and stop interacting, fucking weirdos. I don't control whether or not people are going to listen to me on this, so if you end up getting hate by being publicized, just know I'm not the one sending it. Especially if people are going on anon and doing it. But if I catch your ass sending it, I'm going to post you up here and report your account. I don't condone any form of harassment or bullying.

I am a grown woman with a life and a job and my own problems, I can't babysit all of you mf minors and harassers myself, so if you end up getting called out and you hate me for it, I simply don't care. I didn't go into this thinking I was gonna be the fucking minor police/ nsfw protection party, but here I am. Simply because you dumb ass babies decided to interact with my account. You stepped into my area- I have the right to cease interaction or not interact at all, and I also have the right to post your ass since you failed to literally read the GIF banner I made at the TOP of my blog saying 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI.

I am not a fool me once fool me twice type of bitch. I hold grudges, and I'm not forgiving. But I am fair, so if you do show me proof of not being a minor, I will apologize. Otherwise, fool me once and I'll fuck you up. Thank you♡

#reaper.visits #disclaimer #<3 #minors dni

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

@thenaluarchive movie night. Just a quicky ficlet 🙃

Being stuck in her apartment for Christmas had to be the worst part of this whole year, and Lucy couldn’t help but log onto Zoom with a sense of longing. For the last 3 years, they’d spent the evening in a Friendsmas Eve together with good food, drinks, and a movie to celebrate the holidays. Thanks to the pandemic, it was agreed they should hold off till things were safer. So that’s when her best friend Levy suggested a zoom party where they’d all log in and could still stream a movie together.

“Lucy!!” Levy screamed. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, me too!” Lucy smiled back at all the familiar faces already logged on. “Hey everyone!” Ten others were already joined in, and most of them were friends from their college days. But there were a couple of faces she didn’t recognize. So she texts Levy on the side asking who they were.

‘Oh sorry lol. I’ll introduce you.’ Levy texted back.

Back on the video now, Levy spoke up, calling on the two unknown people to listen up. “Guys, I wanna introduce you to my bestie Lucy.”

“Lucy, so the guy with pink hair is Natsu, he’s Gajeels cousin. And the other one is Gray, he’s Natsus roommate and works with Gajeel at the shop. Say hi guys!”

“Nice to meet you Lucy!” They both respond.

“Nice to meet you as well!”

As the director or the nights event, Levy put a link in the chat for a survey of movies for the group to choose from and the top two choices would be streamed. The friends talk amongst each other and catch up. Some were drinking or eating, others played a holiday trivia game. It was difficult at times to keep up or figure out who was saying what, but despite the trepidation Lucy had in the beginning, it was nice to see this forum wasn’t keeping anyone down on Christmas Eve.

Lucy enjoyed seeing her friends again, especially since she hadn’t seen any of them in the flesh since March. But it was the newer addition that had her interests most peaked. She never knew Gajeel had a cousin, and why hadn’t Levy introduced them sooner?! She texts the woman to keep their messages private.

‘Omg Gajeels cousin is so cute!’

‘Really? 😂 I guess I never looked at him that way.’

‘Is he single?! 😶’

‘😶 yes. You should talk to him.’

‘But idk nothin bout him.’

‘Lemme help u with that 😛’

‘?!’

Suddenly, Lucy sees that Levy had stuck her into a break away room on Zoom.

‘Levy?!’

“Hello? How’d I get in here?” Natsu questioned.

‘😳 LEVY!’

“Hi, Natsu,” Lucy answered, “um Levy thought we might like a chance to talk... y-you know without being interrupted.”

‘😙 enjoy your chat!’ Levy teased. ‘Dw he also said he’s gonna kill me later 🙃😘 y’all will thank me someday.’

‘OMG LEVY!!!’

“Oh,” Natsu laughed nervously. “How nice of her.”

She could see the slight blush on his cheeks and that instantly alighted one on hers. Oh, boy! Awkward! “I um,” Lucy tucked her hair behind her ears, the movement caught immediately by Natsu’s eyes from what she noticed. “So, you’re Gajeel’s cousin?”

“Yeah. When I moved to this town, I stayed with them a couple months till Gray and I found an apartment.”

“What brought you to Crocus?”

“A job offer. What about you? Are you from here Lucy?”

“Actually no, I came here for college. That’s how I met Levy. Then I stayed for a job.”

“What kind of job?”

“I work for the magazine Sorcerer Weekly.”

“That’s pretty cool!”

“Your turn Natsu, what do you do for a living?”

“Firefighter. But I’m taking EMT classes too, cause that’ll give me a higher certification rating...”

The longer they talked, the easier it was for Lucy to relax. It seemed once those first-time jitters wore away, Natsu’s true personality shone through. He was quite talkative, she mused, but sweet and very passionate about his job. The man also had a silly side that was endearing. Course, the bonus from all she could see through this video, Natsu was a total hunk!

Twenty minutes into the conversation, Lucy received another message from Levy letting her know they’ll be starting the movie. But before she could reply—

“Levy said they’re starting the movie.”

“Oh, yeah, I just got the message too, I’m—.”

Natsu looked sheepishly away from the screen, “I kinda rather keep talking to you instead.”

Lucy’s cheeks flushed again. “Me too. You’re really easy to talk to.”

“Would it be too forward to say... you’re really pretty Lucy.”

“No,” her voice softened with a hint of embarrassment, and you’re not so bad yourself Natsu.”

‘Maybe we’ll catch the second one,’ Lucy replied to Levy. To which she received a wink emote in reply.

The conversation continued where it had left off before Levy’s interruption with a game of 20 Questions. They learned simple stuff about each other’s likes and dislikes, siblings or none, to bucket list dreams. It also turned out that Natsu and Grays apartment was less than three blocks away from hers.

“Being stuck on a video chat kind of sucks,” Lucy blurts out. “It would be so much nicer if this was face to face.”

“Well...” Natsu leaned in. “I could just come over. I mean, you live close by so it would only take me about 10 minutes.”

“You’d... do that?”

Natsu tapped his chin and grinned, “lemme think. Be stuck with my roommate or a cute girl on Christmas Eve? It’s a really tough choice to make.”

“Pfft,” Lucy laughed. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Well? Do you want me to come over or not?”

“Hmm, lemme think,” she mocked and tapped her chin, “be alone or stuck with a cute guy on Christmas Eve? That’s a really tough choice to make.”

“Now who’s the weirdo?!” Natsu laughed too. “Will you just give me your address?!”

Once she gave him the information, she logged out of the break out room, and he completely out of the party. When she joined the rest of the group, they asked what happened to Natsu. “You’ll see,” Lucy smiled and turned the video off until he arrived. They could still hear her and she could still hear them.

But Gray cut in and ruined the surprise, “that dork is heading to her place.”

“What?!” Everyone immediately ignored the movie and bogged out the audio to flood Lucy with questions. But she wasn’t responding.

“Come on guys!” Levy cut them off. “Give the woman time to breathe!”

A few minutes later, Natsu arrived at her apartment with a gift of wine.

“Aww, thanks, but you didn’t have to bring anything.”

“It would be rude not to,” he smiled back.

Lucy’s heart skipped a beat. The man was even cuter in person! And such manners! Oh, yeah, she was done for. “They um,” she gestured to the living room where her laptop was still sitting, “they’re waiting for us. Gray spilled the beans.”

“Don’t worry I’ll get him back,” Natsu grinned and winked.

They sit on the couch and turn the video back on, instantly gaining a roar of whoa’s and light teasing from mostly the guys.

“Smooth move man,” Gray teased his roommate. “Couldn’t even wait till morning.”

“No need to hate on me.” Natsu quipped back and put his arm around Lucy’s shoulders. “You’re just jealous cause your girl is out of town.”

That set off laughter from all around the virtual room. Even Lucy giggled despite her body heating up from the close contact. “Omg you’re so bad,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry, we do this all the time to each other.”

Things settle back down in the group once this Christmas twist had run its course. Everyone in the group was simply elated to see two of their friends happy on this Covid Christmas Eve. After the first movie, Levy streamed the second one. It was the classic Scrooged. You simply couldn’t have a Christmas without watching it at least once.

But by the time the movie was ending, Lucy had started to doze off on Natsu’s shoulder.

“If you’re tired, I can head home.”

“Stay,” she mumbled, “nice and warm.”

Natsu blushed. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

They bid their friends goodnight and merry Christmas before shutting off Zoom and closing the laptop. Natsu turned back to Lucy, but she’d fallen asleep again. He hadn’t planned on staying the night, but she seemed so content to stay cuddled up against him, that he just didn’t have the heart to leave. So, he turned off the lamp and shifted their bodies to both fit on the couch, tucking her close, and kissing her forehead before settling in too.

Lucy breathed out a soft sigh as her face burrowed against his chest. She was only pretending to be asleep to see how Natsu would react, but his response told her everything she needed to know. Covid really made their lives miserable this year, but at least it hadn’t ruined her Christmas after all.

#nalu #nalu winter wonderland #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu ficlet #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #nalu au #Natsu x Lucy

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Weirdos (LoV x Reader)

Pairing: LoV x Reader, platonic relationship

Shigaraki, Twice, Dabi, toga, Kurogiri x Reader

I’m combining two anon requests I got for this one (they were kinda similar and I have a lot of requests to go through): “LOV x young reader (fem or genderfluid). reader just wants to be loved. Toga's like a big sister, Dabi's a big brother, Shigaraki is that one gay cousin and Kurogiri is the father figure (hey no stOp that). Shenanigans ensue” and “Hello love! I just read sleepless with the LOV gang and I was wondering if you could do a platonic LOV x teenage reader where she gets hurt in an attack from the heroes and what their reaction would be. If you’d like to add her quirk maybe something about controlling plant life? Thanks love”

Tags: @wwwwyamd @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

Genre: Crack I guess

Word Count: 1,260

a/n: Ugghhh this took me a long time and I’m still not that happy with it... I’ve been slowly losing steam, it’s probably bc of finals coming up and my grades and yeah... Still! I hope this crackity type thing makes you guys smile. This is kiiind of a sequel to Sleepless? It happens in the same continuity/universe/timeline, think of it that way.

Also! I have a few more requests and more originals from myself, but I have exams this week, so I possibly won’t be posting until after Wednesday, unless I decide to write that Bakugou hc request I just got to tide you guys over.

I didn’t use it very much, but gender neutral they/them pronouns here!

As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, all their eyes were on me. Their silence is exactly what I expected, and I wanted nothing more than to disappear. I try tilting my hat down so they can't see my face as I place the plastic bag on the table. "Sorry I'm late, here's food. I'm gonna wash up-"

A hand comes down on my head and I gulp.

"What happened to your face?"

Dabi's voice lowering a whole octave and a half is the scariest thing in the world, change my mind. "N-Nothing..."

"That's also not the jacket you left with earlier," Twice adds across from me.

Damnit, when did they get so perceptive? I haven't been staying here for too long, I didn't think they would care about me other than when I go get their food and run other errands for them.

"(Y/n)," Kurogiri crosses his arms over his chest. "Take the jacket and the hat off. Now."

I can't refuse them when they're all piercing me with their murderous gazes like that. They've been nice enough to keep me here, but they're still villains, I can't say they don't scare me in the slightest. I'm deathly afraid of what might happen if they see what happened to me. I slowly remove my jacket first, revealing a few scrapes and bruises on my arms. When I'm met with silence, I remove my hat too, scrunching my eyes closed and preparing for the worst.

"What. Happened?"

I flinch at Dabi's harsh question, not having the courage to look up and look him in the eyes.

"Answer me, kid."

I pick at a scratch on my palms. "I-I got caught up in an attack w-with the heroes. I got a little-"

"A little what?!" Twice slams a hand down on the table and I jolt. "Your face has a giant sore! What hit you?!"

"Or who?" Dabi asks, hands clenched as his arms cross over his chest.

I back away, defensive about the whole situation. "It wasn't on purpose. They hit the ground and something went flying at my face-"

"You could've gotten hurt worse than that!" Dabi booms at me, stepping forward. "Why didn't you block it in time?"

I feel myself getting smaller and smaller. "I was running, and I heard someone screaming behind me, and I wasn't paying attention, that's all."

"Aw Dabi, you don't have to be so harsh," Toga wraps an arm around my quivering shoulders. "You're being scary again, tone it down a notch."

"Yeah, stupid, you're going too OP on the yelling, no one wants to hear your mouth," Shigaraki pipes up, seemingly unbothered by the whole thing ad choosing to focus all his attention on his handheld console.

Dabi whirls onto him. "What'd you say, Crusty? How about you say it with your chest?"

Shigaraki stands up and gets in his face. "I wonder what burnt chicken ashes tastes like-"

"Enough, you two!" Kurogiri booms out. "There are more pressing matters than your pointless bickering."

"Yeah, our poor birdie (Y/n) got hurt," Toga rubs my face. I wince when her finger brushes over the sore spot, but I don't want to push her away for fear she might do something to me. "That's gonna leave a huge bruise for a few weeks."

"I'm gonna destroy whichever hero it was who caused it," Dabi returns back to me. "Who was it? Endeavor? Best Jeanist? One of those UA kids?"

"I don't know. I didn't see them clearly," I squeak. He's really gonna kill me now.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T SEE IT?" Blue flames emerge from his palms.

"Hey, hey, take it down a few notches." Twice wraps an arm around Dabi's shoulder and pats his arm. "No need to act all tough."

"I'm sorry I got hurt, I'll be more careful next time." The tears build up behind my eyes, but I try to hold them back. I don't want to see what happens if I cry in front of them.

"Aw, look what you did," Twice exasperatedly motions to my bowed head. "This is what happens when you're a tsundere hiding your feelings all the time."

"Come here, (Y/n)." Kurogiri motions to the seat next to Shigaraki. "Let me take care of your wounds."

"But," I blink back to clear my vision, "I deserved it, didn't I?" Shouldn't I be in trouble now?

"Oh, shut up, stop being an emo," Toga pushes me toward the chair.

I end up seated at the bar, still constricting myself inward. I'm not comfortable with anything going on, not to mention how perplexed I am.

Shigaraki spares a sideways glance at me before mashing at his buttons nonchalantly. "That's one hell of a bruise, you're gonna look worse than me for a while."

I can't judge from his tone if he's insulting me, or trying to make a joke, or failing miserably at comforting me.

Kurogiri places a first aid kit on the counter. "I'll do your face first." He pulls out a few cotton swabs and a bottle solution.

Twice leans his arm on the counter on my other side. "What's with that face, (Y/n)? You look worried."

I pause for a moment before I look down at my feet. "I'm waiting for you guys to do something to me."

The entire room freezes again and goes silent, sending me into another heart-racing mini panic.

Twice is the first to break the silence. Even the soft hand he places on my shoulder makes me jumpy. "I don't know how things were before you met us, or if that's the kind of impression we give," he shoots a look at Dabi, who just crosses his arms and looks away, "But that's not how we do things. It was an honest mistake, how could you have known that would happen? We're just concerned about if something bad happened to you."

I perk up at his words. "You mean, I'm not just your lackey running your errands? I'm not just an annoying kid you found on the street?"

"You make it sound like you're a stray cat or something," Shigaraki comments. "Though, you are quiet and require a moderate amount of attention..."

"Of course you're not just a lackey, silly! You're one of us!" Toga's sweater pawed hands envelop my torso in a hug. "Dabi's just being a meanie because he doesn't know how to show affection. He should still apologize though."

"Yes, Dabi!" Twice adds with a flourish, "Apologize to my poor child!" He grabs my head and forcefully pushes it into his hard chest.

Dabi sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as the two stare at him expectantly. "I shouldn't've yelled at you, kid. I didn't know you'd be scared like that."

"It's fine." It's weird being smothered by a group of housemates who might as well be strangers, but it blooms warmth into me somehow.

"Alright, you get first bite of the grub." Twice eagerly opens up the bags of food and rips open one of the containers and disposable chopsticks to feed me.

Kurogiri gently blots at my face with his first aid supplies. "Toga, stop wiggling, you're moving (Y/n)!"

Her grip around my waist doesn't loosen at all, her face snuggling into my back. "Ey, Twice, it's no fair you get to feed (Y/n) first, I wanna do it!"

It's at this moment when I feel like Dabi and Shigaraki are the most normal ones out of all of them, until they start bickering over a container of noodles and start destroying things so Kurogiri needs to reprimand them again. Even so, among all the prodding, squeezing, pulling, bickering, and smothering, I wonder if this is what family is supposed to feel like.

A secret smile only I can see quirks at my lips. Nah, they're just weirdos.

#league of villians x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi #toga himiko #shigaraki tomura #mha twice #mha kurogiri #request #crack #gender neutral reader #league of villains imagine #league of villains scenario #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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shuahoonie · 4 years

Text

you [tom holland] - eight.

PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader

SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.

WARNINGS: mostly swearing! some fluff here, some angst there. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish! also, their relationship is improving yall 🤧

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

SONG INSPO: mxmtoon - used to you

A/N: surprise! I actually updated after five/six months??? a lot of things have happened during the time that I was gone. most of it revolved around my mental health and uni. not a great time to have a career crisis whilst living in the middle of a pandemic lmao.

the last time i updated, i gave you guys the gift of fluff. maybe i should tone down a bit? or maybe not? i’m also sorry if this took ages. had an awful writer’s block. oooh, also i wrote an interview excerpt for this chapter. i added a link if you wanted to read it but no pressure! it’s just a lil’ sumn sumn :) anyway, enjoy reading!

hope you guys are safe & healthy! keep practicing social distancing and please wear your masks! sending all my love ♡

UPDATES EVERY SATURDAY 11 PM CST WHENEVER I CAN

gif credits: @tommybabyholland

Your friends have told you countless times to bite the bullet, however, you’ve seemed to swallow it instead. Here you were, lying in the same bed with Tom Holland, mere inches against each other.

If anyone told you that you would be lying on the same bed as the guy you swore you hated a few months ago, you’d probably laugh at their face.

You were definitely considering that maybe this whole fake dating thing wasn’t such a horrid idea after all.

The room was dimmed to almost pitch black now. You could see a small streak of light peering from the curtains, probably from all of the street lights outside, allowing you to at least see something. You were exhausted but somehow you couldn’t sleep at the same time.

The only reasonable thing that you could put your blame into was your heart, which was beating quite rapidly, by the way. You didn’t even know why you felt this nervous around him, it’s not like he’s a complete stranger.

You’ve known Tom for a good two months—two and a half if you want to be specific. You picked up on his little quirks: his eyes crinkle when he laughs genuinely, he doesn’t like that much sugar in his tea. He likes his dog, Tessa, very much which you were already a goner for. He also hums when he’s happy which surprised you one day, not knowing what to do with that information.

You also found out that his hands were always cold, which always startles you as your hands were extremely warm. Like right now, you could feel his fingertips grazing upon yours. As if your heart can handle even more of your emotions right now.

You were confused as to why you were extremely nervous around him all of a sudden. Is it because this is the first time your sharing a bed with your pretend boyfriend? Is it because the last time you shared a bed with someone who you had no relation to is with your ex-boyfriend?

It was driving you insane and you really had to get it together. You were both lying on your backs so all you could stare at was the empty ceiling. You took a quick look at Tom, who was already sleeping.

Ah, so he snores. You made a mental note to yourself, wondering how you can use that information and pester him with it. He didn’t have loud snores, just soft ones but still loud for you to hear.

You turned your body and lain on your side, choosing to face Tom. He really looked peaceful sleeping and the sight of him be at peace was enough to calm you down.

With that, you found your eyes slowly start to droop down. The image of Tom sleeping soundly was the last thing you saw before you drifted off to sleep.

You noticed three things as soon as you woke up. You still had your eyes shut, only because you refuse to accept that it was already a new day.

The first thing you noticed was the annoying alarm tone that kept ringing on the bedside table. One of these days, I’ll end up throwing and smashing my phone.

The second thing was how hot warm you felt. You felt the heat radiating beside you and you weren’t exactly used to it. You like the feeling of sleeping in a cold room while also burying yourself with blankets.

The third thing you noticed was the pair of arms wrapped around you. As you slowly opened your eyes, you were greeted by the extremely close proximity that you shared with Tom.

You found yourself cuddling Tom. Your head was resting in between his chest and his arm—the same arm that was wrapped around you. In the meanwhile, Tom’s other hand was resting on the side of your face, building the illusion that he may have caressed the side of your face.

You, on the other hand, had your left arm resting on top of his chest while the other was tucked underneath the pillow.

You wondered how the hell you ended up in this position, but knowing how you move a lot in your sleep, you probably initiated this in the first place. You also wondered how Tom can sleep through this annoying alarm, especially since it kept ringing every ten minutes.

Tilting your head up a bit, your eyes met the sight of his lips. However, from this angle, you could also clearly see the freckles speckled on his face. With the beaming sun and its fight to fill the room with light against the corners of the curtains, it only made things worse for you. Tom, with his body outlined by the light, absolutely looked angelic—as if the universe only favoured him and him alone.

You slowly reached for his hand and removed it from the corner of your neck, carefully resting it on top of his stomach. After successfully doing so, comes the real challenge. You slowly released yourself from the grip of his arm and tried your best to get out of the bed without waking Tom up.

Your logic? It would be rude to wake someone up from their sleep—especially when they can’t be bothered to be woken up by the alarm anyway. You also wanted this moment for yourself. You thought that it was best if Tom had no recollection of waking up to you two cuddling, acting as a true couple when there are no cameras around you.

You walked to the bathroom to get yourself ready. You had a whole day of photoshoots and you also had to squeeze in a couple of interviews after. You didn’t want to miss your best friend’s wedding so you had to do whatever you can in order to balance your social life and work.

You already knew that you were going to be exhausted for today and you love your job, you really do, but sometimes you wished that you could catch a break without losing sleep for the next couple of days.

After taking a long hot shower and doing your essential skin routine—knowing that this is the only form of relaxation you’re going to get for the next couple of days— you slipped into a pair of mom jeans and a loose shirt. You packed this much because you knew you wouldn’t get the chance to drive home anyway.

Just as you stepped out of the bathroom, your phone buzzed in your hand and saw a text from your manager.

Zoë: On my way to the hotel! I will be there in 20 mins or so. Be sure that you’re ready so we can get going.

“Oh, you’re already good to go?” You looked up from your phone and saw Tom yawning and rubbing his eyes. He was still wearing your sweatpants and he was still shirtless.

You nodded. “Zoë’s picking me up.” You replied as you tidied the bed. It took you a couple of minutes before the words you said just sunk in. “Oh god, Zoë’s picking me up.” You repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah?” Tom chuckled, seemingly lost as to what you were trying to point out.

“She doesn't really know that you slept with me.” You said but as soon as you realized what you just said, you knew you fucked up. You saw Tom smirking at you which only prompted you to hit him with the pillow. “I didn’t mean it like that, you weirdo.”

“Oh, sure.” He teased as he put on his shirt. “I mean I’m pretty sure that I’m not the one who practically clung to a person while sleeping.”

“Shut up, Holland. You know I move a lot when I sleep.” You muttered as a pathetic excuse to hopefully shut him up.

“To be quite fair, I didn’t know that you do that whenever you sleep, but it’s nice to know that now.” He grinned.

“Oh god,” You groaned. “Let’s just go so I can check out now. Zoë’s going to be here soon and I want you gone asap.” You said as you glanced around the room just so you know you didn’t leave anything behind.

“Wait, what about your sweatpants?”

“Just give it to me the next time you see me.” You said as you pulled him out of the room and made your way to the front desk.

It turns out Zoë had no concept of time. As soon as you finished checking out, you saw your manager already waiting in the lobby. Oh, you recognized her big blonde hair from anywhere. She was sitting in one of the plush sofas, dressed in a white romper and even had her cat-eye sunglasses on. She looked like she’s about to catch her husband having an affair.

“Ah, Y/N,” She said with a huge smile. “Thanks but you should know if that ever were to happen, I would pick something more flashy.”

Oh, I said that out loud?! You practically yelled at yourself.

“We should get going, honey, we’ll grab you some breakfast on the way.” Zoë fixed the stray strands of your hair. You couldn’t be bothered to do your hair knowing that the stylists are going to give it hell anyway, so you just tied it in a low ponytail.

“Um,” You didn’t even know how to say it. Where you even going to bring Tom up? If so, what were you going to say anyway? That you spent a night with your pretend boyfriend? Which shouldn’t be a huge deal but you were sure that your stunt doesn’t involve actually falling for each other.

“Tom,” Zoë’s pitch went a bit higher, surprised to see Tom standing behind you. “What’re you doing here, hon?” She asked quietly.

“Oh, I-”

“He spent the night with me. Tom was exhausted and it wasn’t safe for him to drive last night, so I asked him to stay.” You explained, cutting Tom off. You just wanted to get it over with and you were bound to face the storm sooner or later anyway.

Zoë stared at the two of you for a moment, an undistinguishable look painted all over her face. You took a quick look at Tom who was also observing your manager’s reaction.

However, she chose to drop it. “Alright, c’mon, honey. You have a long day today.” Your manager said after she flashed Tom a smile and turned around, leaving you both relieved.

As you watched your manager leave and walk towards her vehicle, you turned to Tom and said, “I guess I’ll see you soon?”

Tom smiled and nodded, “I’ll see you soon, my darling.” He said softly.

You felt your cheeks start to burn again so you did what you always do whenever you don’t know how to respond or when you’re just plain embarrassed—walk away and practically scream inside your head.

You were walking—sprinting, more like— towards the vehicle and when you got in, you were greeted with a big smile by Zoë. It terrified you.

“Y/N, hon,” She initiated with a soft voice. “You know sooner or later this stunt will all come to an end right?”

“Yeah, I know.” You answered, slightly confused as to why this was brought up all of a sudden.

“Okay, good, good...” Zoë trailed off. “I just—I see how things may escalate and I don’t want to see you hurt, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I know.” You acknowledged, though this time you said it in a whisper. It was day 78 that you came clean to yourself and realized maybe you were developing a tiny crush on Tom.

The people from the magazine were doing a feature story on you. Not only that you were going to be on the cover of the magazine, but you were also going to get a ten-page spread that included an interview. The whole theme of the issue was individuality so your spread had to be rooted from your style, so the outfits, the makeup, and hair had to base off of you as a concept while still adding an editorial element to it.

You were already wearing the third outfit, wearing a pink frilly floral dress and it had hand-stitched and delicately placed flowers for the details—in which the outfit was inspired by your character in your tv series.

You were waiting for your hair and makeup to be done at the same time. The set was going to be in a pool so you also had to have your manicure and pedicure done. Basically, you had no control over your body.

“How are you doing, hon?” Zoë asked as she passed by your chair.

“’m still okay,” You mumbled. “Can I take a sip from my coffee though?”

Maria’s, the nail tech for this shoot, eyes went wide. “Your nails aren’t dry yet,” She pointed out.

“Please, Maria?” You pouted. You were literally about to pass out from exhaustion and you still had a full day ahead.

Maria rolled her eyes and gave in. “Fine, I’ll hold the cup.” She said before she grabbed your coffee from your manager.

As you happily indulged the coffee, you heard Ruby, the makeup artist, let out a sigh behind you.“Y/N, I just did your makeup.”

“Nothing bad happened! I just need to reapply the lipstick, it’s okay.” You quickly defended.

“Child, you are going to be the death of me,” Ruby mumbled loud enough for the two of you. “You’re lucky I like you because if my other clients did this I would’ve grabbed their coffee and then they would’ve gone full diva on me.”

You just gave her a huge smile before she reapplied your lipstick. The hairstylist just finished doing your hair, pinning tiny flowers all over your hair and having them scattered all over. You couldn’t believe that you had flowers all over your hair again—which only reminded you of Tom and what happened last night.

Last night felt so surreal. It was the first time you two didn’t have knives on each other’s necks. It was the first time you felt comfortable around him and the experience was very intimate, it almost drove you mad.

However, your manager’s words echoed back at you. It’s all a stunt and it will come to an end.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” The photographer asked, breaking up your thoughts. Am I?

From pink frilly dresses to big tan sherpa coats, you were finally done with the photo shoot. The shoot went on for hours and all you wanted to do was to get rid of everything that your skin and hair had to endure. However, it doesn’t end there. You still had to do a short interview for the magazine.

You were still wearing one of the outfits you had for the shoot—a black tube-top jumpsuit that clung into your body like second skin, along with tall pencil-heeled black pumps. This was definitely far from comfortable nor is it something that you’d wear, but you did like how it looked on you. “I look like the cold-hearted editor-in-chief in a magazine from a Hallmark movie” was all you said when you looked in the mirror.

You had to excuse yourself from the young journalist who patiently waited for you as your photoshoot ran a bit late. She was drinking the coffee that you had given her—a small token of an apology for the time she probably wasted waiting.

She gladly understood and went on with the interview. You were glad to do so anyway since you’re embarrassed for making her wait. You were asked about Amelia, the character that you play in the show Alchemist.

As Y/N eased into the interview, still wearing one of her outfits from the photoshoot, she was asked about her resonation with her character. “I see only tiny bits of myself as her—that being hard-headed and using self-deprecating jokes as a coping mechanism,” she answered with a small laugh.

You were also asked about your personal struggle between dropping out of school—potentially ruining your future— and your unstable acting career.

She thought she possibly made a huge mistake of ruining her future. Luckily, Y/N received a casting call for the show Alchemist. “I still believe it’s pure luck. I’m lucky that I got the part and the show helped me shape my career, however, I can’t deny that I was really close to giving up.”

Of course, the current state of your love life had to be included.

“Yeah, I am seeing someone.” Y/N admits with a soft smile. “People know who he is and frankly, I don’t think I have to explicitly say his name as who I date shouldn’t be anyone’s business.” Her cheeks were flushed red as soon as the words came out of her mouth. Y/N was kind enough to explain that she didn’t mean it to sound so harsh, but she still stands firm with her words.

You quickly and kindly expressed to the journalist that you mean well. You had no intention of being rude or for it to sound rude, but you still hold true to your words. The journalist was kind enough to understand your sentiments regarding this.

The interview ended in a breeze and you were absolutely longing for the time when you can take a nice long bath. You quickly thanked the journalist as she bid her way goodbye.

You can only hope that this cover issue finds you well.

Time went by slowly and yet very quickly at the same time. You haven’t seen any of your friends for a couple of weeks as you’ve been occupied by filming, doing interviews, and photoshoots.

You haven’t seen Tom in quite a while too—which you didn’t mind. You actually used this time to reevaluate your uncertain feelings for him. People at set didn’t seem to notice that he rarely showed up at your shoots—at least if they did, they would just assume that he’s busy since he did have an endless list of projects.

As you were still uncertain about where your feelings lie with Tom, you chose this time to at least try and forget about him. Admittedly, it was difficult since people would always bring him up at some point or he would just be everywhere on social media.

This time apart from Tom did give you a sense of peace. You weren’t in the constant state of practically having a heart attack around him, no matter how cliché it sounds. You hated that he had this effect on you but you had to act like everything’s fine—hoping that you’re doing a damn well job because acting is how you put food on the table.

However, just like the opening lyrics of One Direction’s most gut-wrenching song, Love You Goodbye, mentioned: “It’s inevitable, everything that’s good comes to an end.”

And boy, did it end alright.

Ronnie: pls tell me it’s actually ur day off bc I really plan on having dinner with u. 🥺

You were about to have a long, relaxing bath (infused with epsom salts of course) when you read the text from your best friend. You were longing for this heaven-like bath and there’s no way you’re going to pass it up.

You: technically yes. the shoot ran till morning but all i’ve done since then was sleep. I'm about to take a bath tho & not planning to get out until i turn into a human prune lmao

Ronnie: ok! I'll buy us dinner, any suggestions?

You: really craving for some hearty Korean food rn 🤧

Ronnie: gotcha! I'll get u ur usual, do u want me to buy drinks too?

You were still debating whether to go drinking tonight when your phone pinged, indicating a text.

Ronnie: babes you’re taking too long. I'm getting us drinks.

You: guess there’s no way out then lmao

Ronnie: oh u bet. I'll be there in an hour-ish, maybe earlier.

You: might still be in the bath when u arrive. 😬

Ronnie: nah you’re ok haha. I have keys anyway and I'll make myself at home but u already knew that. 😌

You rolled your eyes but still had a smile on your face. You eventually gave Veronica some duplicates as she was constantly popping by anyway. It didn’t make sense for both of you to keep Ronnie out, waiting for you to come home when you could easily just give her some keys. At some point, you even asked her to move in. She is dancing around the idea though.

Turning your phone off, you stepped into your epsom-salt-bubble bath—ready to shut off from the world and embrace the relaxation.

After strategically propping your laptop at the bathroom counter, you’ve managed to finish two episodes of New Girl whilst you were in the tub. You could’ve used the bathtub tray that Olivia got you for your birthday, but you couldn’t trust yourself with that type of risk—no matter how careful you were.

It wasn’t long when you heard a small commotion coming from the living room. You had your eyebrows furrowed, surely it was just Ronnie who’s dropping by today. Unless she invited Olivia too?

Stepping out of the tub, you wrapped a towel around your body. You shut off your laptop and grabbed your phone before you left the bathroom.

“Ronnie?” You called out above the chatter from the living room. “Ronnie, is that you?”

“Yeah, right here, babes!” You heard her yell back. Upon reaching the living room, you saw Ronnie setting the food down on the table with Harrison putting the drinks down. “Oh, hey! I got us bibimbap and tteokbokki from Kim’s Kitchen. I also asked for extra kimchi because that is to die for.” Veronica exclaimed with a huge smile. “Oh and Mrs. Kim says hi.”

You forced a huge smile in response, turning to your best friend and subtly motioning at Harrison who was standing beside her.

“Oh! oh! Y/N, I hope you don’t mind that I invited them. They called me the same time as I texted you and I figured you wouldn’t mind because we’re all friends here, right?” Veronica smiled nervously.

“A head’s up would’ve been nice, because...” You motioned to yourself, pointing out that you were still in your towel. “I mean it is my home and I should dress however I want but obviously you got your boyfriend here. The least I could do is look presentable.”

Harrison turned red and so did Veronica. “Y/N, Harrison is not my boy—”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’ll go get changed.” You rolled your eyes and dismissed the entire thing. What can you do, kick them out? Wait—

“Wait, did you say “them” earlier? Is anyone else coming?” You asked.

“Uh...” Veronica was looking for the right words to say until her eyes met someone else’s and looked right past you.

You turned around and saw Tom standing in the middle of the room, holding plates and cutlery from your kitchen. Pinching the bridge of your nose to prevent the emerging migraine you’re about to endure and closed your eyes, you took a deep breath.

“Uh—Hi, Y/N” Tom waved shyly. That’s all it took. All of those repressed feelings that you were trying to fight off were coming back. With your heart beating furiously, you knew you were a goner and you hated that.

“Hi Tom,” you muttered. You two haven’t spoken to each other in a while since the morning after the wedding. God, this is awkward.

You caught his eyes flickered to your body and put his head down, walking towards Harrison and Veronica, avoiding eye contact. You realized you were still in your towel, turning red. “Uh, I’ll go get changed.” You muttered, practically running towards your room to change.

You were changing into an oversized shirt and into some leggings when you heard a knock from the door. “I’m decent!” You yelled.

The door slowly opened, Tom peering from the other side.

“Oh, hey.” You greeted him as he slowly went inside your room. He was looking around, observing your room. Your bedroom wasn’t special but it’s your favourite place. The walls were painted white—which is why when the sun beams through your windows, it bounces off through the walls and illuminates your entire room. Your room consisted of white furniture and bedding, but you made up for it by putting numerous plants all over your room and using earthy tones such as blankets and decorative pillows as accents.

“Hey,” Tom stepped a bit closer “Sorry about earlier. If I knew you’d feel uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have come.” He apologized.

“No, you’re good. I guess I was just caught by surprise.” You quickly dismissed.

There was an odd silence. Is this what happens when you don’t talk for quite a while?

“Oh, I also wanted to give you this,” Tom said, handing you the sweatpants that he borrowed a while ago. The cursed night that brought you closer to each other, literally. Grabbing the neatly folded pants, your fingers gently grazed upon his—the first time you had physical contact ever since that night. “Don’t worry, I washed it.” He added.

“Eh, I think I’ll wash it again just to make sure.” You joked, trying to diffuse the awkwardness.

Tom let out a small laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry.” You heard him say as you put your hair into a loose ponytail.

“For what?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“I wasn’t exactly the finest “boyfriend” in the world.” He explained, putting air quotes on the word ‘boyfriend’. “I’d say I was busy but I should’ve made time.”

You gave him a small smile. “It’s okay, Tom.” You turned around to place the pants inside the drawer. “It’s not like you’re my actual boyfriend anyway.” You laughed awkwardly.

For some reason, that last sentence left an unpleasant feeling on you. Why are you longing for Tom anyway? Are you that deprived?

Tom let out an awkward chuckle and mumbled a quiet “yeah,”

There it is again. That awkward silence. Will this last for the entire night because this is going to be exhausting?

All of a sudden, Tom looked at you with a smile. “Why are we being weird?” Tom asked, laughing.

“Yeah, I don’t even know either,” You couldn't help but laugh as well. “I’m definitely not used to you being this quiet.”

“Are you saying that you missed it then?” He asked with a smirk. “Better yet are you saying that you missed me?”

You rolled your eyes. There’s the Tom that you knew. “I wouldn’t go that far, Tom.” You replied, fighting off a smile.

“’m just teasing, darling,” He laughed softly. “So, should we just forget everything and just be friends?” He asked, offering his hand.

You were about to reply when you heard a loud knock from the other side of the door. “Oi, are you two making out in there?” You heard Veronica yell obnoxiously from the other side.

“Veronica!” You shrieked out of pure embarrassment. You felt your face turning red, as if like you’re a preteen caught with her crush.

You pulled the door open and dragged Tom outside out of pure embarrassment, only to meet Veronica and Harrison who were leisurely sitting by the couch, trying to fight off their smirks.

“Food’s getting cold,” Harrison said innocently as you glared at the both of them.

“I see that you two are getting close,” Veronica commented eyeing both of your hands that were still clasped.

“I—uh,” You’re at a loss for words. You forgot the calm feeling of how Tom’s hands felt against yours.

You were about to let go when Tom raised both of your hands to show Haz and Ronnie. “I like holding her hand, it’s always so warm,” Tom commented with a soft smile. “One of the perks of fake dating, Y/N.”

Veronica took a good look at you while you were busy staring at Tom. Ronnie knows that stare of yours and if she’s being honest, she doesn’t know whether to feel happy or anxious for you.

“Yeah, that is until your hands get damp.” You teased, rolling your eyes. “Let’s just eat.” You said as you grabbed a cushion and sat on the floor.

“Okay, so what are we having?” Tom asked as he stared at the table full of Korean dishes.

“Well, I ordered each of us a bowl of bibimbap because I have no clue what you two like to eat” Ronnie said, pertaining to Tom and Harrison. She handed them each a bowl. “They’re all beef, by the way—oh except for Y/N’s, she has chicken.”

“Have you had bibimbap before?” You asked Tom who was behind you, sitting on the couch.

He shook his head in response, grabbing a cushion and opted to sit on the floor, right next to you. “I’ve had Korean BBQ before, does that count?”

“Not quite,” You laughed. “Here, I’ll add some chilli paste.”

“Darling, don’t add too much—” Tom argued while trying to grab the chilli paste from your hands. He ended just holding onto your hand instead.

“C’mon, it’s better when it’s spicy!” You defended, trying to squeeze more into his bowl.

“Are you sure you’re not adding that much because you hate me?” You could feel the close proximity of his face against yours.

“Oh, please,” You turned to face him “I could never hate you, Tommy.” You blinking innocently, trying to hide the fact that he’s literally inches away from you.

While you and Tom are practically exploring this whole new territory of closeness, Veronica was quietly watching it unfold in front of her eyes.

“They seem to be getting along quite well,” Harrison commented before shoving a spoon into his mouth.

“Yeah, maybe too well.” Veronica murmured, still staring at the couple in front of her.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Haz asked with a raised eyebrow. Curious.

Veronica couldn’t answer. Is it really a bad thing or was she just being overprotective? She should be happy for her friend! Heck, she should be happy that you and Tom were finally getting along for once.

Veronica chose to just look past it and accept the situation for what it is for now: a miracle.

“I guess not,” Veronica answered, smiling softly at Harrison who gladly smiled in return.

“Dinner was spectacular,” Tom commented with a smile “Well done, Ronnie.”

“Oh—psh!” Ronnie waved her hand nonchalantly, “That was nothing.”

“Yeah, because Mrs. Kim prepared all of it” You argued jokingly. “Besides, I suggested that we should have Korean cuisine tonight.”

“Then I guess I should thank you, Y/N,” Tom grabbed the sides of your face and squished your cheeks. “Thanks, darling.” He grinned.

You scrunched your face and took his hand away. “You’re annoying,” You told Tom while gathering the plates, starting to clear the table.

“I’ll get that, Y/N,” Harrison said while grabbing the plates from you. “I’ll do the dishes, you lot just stay put here.”

“Ooh, I’ll help!” Veronica stood up to help Harrison.

“No, it’s fine. Just stay there, Ronnie. It’s okay.” Harrison replied, his tone of voice suddenly warm towards Veronica.

“You’re so sweet,” Veronica said in awe. “But that won’t work for me, babe. I’ll help you, it’s totally okay.” She insisted, clearing the rest of the table and following Harrison towards the kitchen.

You were about to head into the spare bedroom when you felt Tom wrap his hands around yours. “Where are you going?” He asked.

“I’m just going to grab something,” You replied, “Even if I try to get away from you, I couldn’t. Trust me.” You teased.

Tom nodded understandably, letting go of your hand.

As you were on your way to the spare room, you couldn’t help but mumble “Why’s he being so clingy all of a sudden? Is this what he’s like to his friends?” You chose to shake off your thoughts against your better judgment.

“What’s that?” Tom asked as soon as you entered the living room.

“A bean bag chair,” You answered, dropping it in front of him. “So you can stop hogging my place on the sofa.”

“Aw, you got a bean bag chair just for me?” He asked with a huge grin on his face.

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t buy it just for you, dumb ass.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N.” He grinned. “Whatever you say.” Tom then sat on the bean bag chair, except he sat at the very upper part of it and tried to keep his balance whilst doing so.

This is the most boyish thing you’ve seen Tom do—no fancy clothing, no assistants around him, no cameras, none of it. He looked like an average guy, doing silly and harmless things, who’s just trying to have fun.

With that in mind, you couldn’t help but pull your phone out and film him doing so. Eventually, he caught on and saw that you had your phone out, giving a smile.

Laughing, you said, “That’s not how you sit on it!”

“I’ll sit on it however I want,” He teased. You quit filming and decided to upload the clip on your Instagram story. It was cute, pure, and authentic. Three words that you swore you wouldn’t use when pertaining to you and Tom.

This fake dating thing is getting harder and harder. Seeing that you and Tom finally decided to act friendly around each other, it’s definitely going to provoke the feelings you were trying to suppress from him.

“Okay, so I got bottles of soju.” Veronica announced while wiping her hands with the kitchen towel. “Anyone up for a Paranoia drinking game?” She asked with a smirk.

“Why must we play a game while drinking?” You asked, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I think it’ll be fun, Y/N.” Tom commented. “This is the right moment to build a tight bond with each other.”

“Yeah, because nothing says bonding like alcohol and using repressed feelings.” You mumbled.

TAGLIST: @thomasthetankson @autty0314 @theherodiedsowhatsthemoviefor @averyfosterthoughts @theolwebshooter @jackiehollanderr @sltwins @herondalescecilys @notjustpenandpaper @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife @gothicwidowsworld @heartofholland @stxfxniexreads @lu-morningstar@hollands-osterfield @thenoddingbunny-blog @galacticstxrdust @sweartomendes @itsjstz @muade-mua-de @runway-to-my-aid @snowxbarryxendgame @cxlpxrnia @notasofti @panicattheeverywherekid@americaswritings @teasemeimeasy @yourwonderbelle @spiderbibby @xxpeachyxo @tomhollandsotherpinkytoe @sectusempried

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#tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland blurb #tom holland reader insert #tom holland and reader #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland and you #tom holland and y/n #tom holland x you #txmhoellandwrites #the girl writes i guess

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goodboydummy · 3 years

Text

Incomplete list of things I love about Haikyuu:

(I add to this every day) (This is all spoilers obv)

- “Someday, if you get really good, someone even better will come and find you”

- Fly

- “This right here, right in this moment... this is still volleyball”

- The running gag of the dangerous bathroom

- Atsumu took ONE LOOK at KageHina and understood exactly tf is going on. (“Tobio is completely wrapped around that little spikers finger”)

- Bokuto’s chest bump receives 🏐💕

- ushijima and tendou stay close friends as adults

- the little tongue thing Hinata does omg

- everyone on adlers looks great in white, everyone on jackals looks hot in black

- THE Tsukishima moment (you know the one) 🌙

- Aone and the way he respects Hinata so much🥺 I wanna cry when they shake hands at the net

- Inuoka being a puppy but in human form

- Inuoka and Hinata do the jump thingy

- Foreshadowing for Papa!Kuroo when he tells Tsukki he could try goofing off more often lmao

- KENMA KOZUME 🤩😍😘

- when Daichi goes under the net after the Nekoma game and hugs Kuroo and they’re smiling so huge

- “Does that mean one day you’ll be playing on the same stage as me? Even if it’s the country, or the world?” “You’re finally here.” “I’m here.”

- “YOU CAN FLY EVEN HIGHER.”

- KageHina hands touching when they block that Miya twin freak quick and win the whole fucking game

- “This hurts... it’s painful....... I don’t want it to ever end.”

- Tanaka and Shimizu endgame and how happy she looks omg

- When Hinata crowns Kageyama with the towel crown 👑

- Tanaka and Taketora best bros

- “Kuroo.... thanks for getting me into volleyball.”

- When old coach Ukai is watching the Nekoma game in the hospital and young Ukai shakes Nekomata’s hand and old Ukai holds his hand out too

- Oikawa Oikawa Oikawa

- LONG HAIR THIRD YEAR HINATA

- Kageyama telling Hinata to get a haircut why are you guys like this

- SHORT HAIR TANNED SKIN BRAZIL HINATA

- The first time Kageyama sets the ball for Hinata (I GET CHILLS)

- Yamaguchi being captain in third year

- Bby Kenma and Kuroo

- Yachi..... baby....... I love you...

- Everyone bothering Goshiki to watch Kurasuno at nationals lmao

- THE “ooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH” SOUND EFFECT WHEN OIKAWA GOES TO SERVE

- Hinata’s ‘DUN’ jump

- When they lose to Aoba Josai and run around the gym screaming until they pass out on the floor. Iconic.

- The fact that Kageyama is as much of an idiot as Hinata when it comes to school

- Volleyball idiots/they share a brain cell

- The way everyone calls Hinata and Kageyama freaks and weirdos and monsters

- When Hinata gets the intense look on his face

- “The Greatest Decoy”

- “Ninja Shoyo” 🥰🥰

- When Kageyama looks around to set the ball and so many people are there to spike it. He isn’t left alone on the court anymore.

- “I’m not closing my eyes anymore”

- The physical fist fight Kageyama and Hinata get into and freak Yachi out

- WHEN THE PRINCIPLE’S WIG FLIES OFF AND LANDS ON DAICHIS HEAD LMAO

- every single one of Daichis flawless serve receives what an absolute bae

- Saeko Tanaka

- When Shimada ran across the huge gym with the Shimada Mart bag so Tadashi would have something to refocus on and not mess up his serve

- The freak quick attack

- “YOU CAN FLY EVEN HIGHER.” (I KNOW I ALREADY PUT THIS BUT IT BEARS REPEATING ITS THE MOST ROMANTIC THING IVE EVER SEEN)

- When Hinata shows up at the camp uninvited and Tsukishima pretends he doesn’t know him lol

- Kunimi’s ‘nice and easy’ lazy receives

- “Just when I start to forget, it comes back to remind me... volleyball is fun!”

- Nishinoya’s cat eyes

- “I’ll be the one to stay on the court the longest.”

- When Kageyama set for Hinata at the training camp when he wasn’t even fucking there I am SOBBING

- Kenma’s faces

- “Shoyo! I’m gonna set for you someday!” And then he did.

- That photo Hinata and Oikawa take in Brazil and send to everyone

- “We don’t look for the short players. But they don’t care. They come to us, with undeniable skill, and force us to choose them.”

- Takeda’s flowery Lit teacher speeches that no one understands lol

- Tanaka is the first one to try and cheer Hinata up when he gets a fever

- The crow symbolism

- Numbers 9 and 10

- Noshinoya with his hair down

- The first moment Tanaka saw Shimizu and he proposed to her

- “If Shoyo hadn’t seen you on tv, he wouldn’t have biked across a mountain everyday to go to Karasuno, and he wouldn’t have met Tobio.” “I may have created a monster. Cool.”

- “Today you are defeated. Who knows what you will be tomorrow.”

- How much the other teams hate the “Synchro Attack”

- When Shimizu warms Sugawara’s hands and he says “w-we should wait until we’re married!” And she says “I am not going to marry you” (also the jealousy of the rest of the team lmao)

- Shimizu fixing the Karasuno banner and her speech and the third years sobbing

- After the Aoba Johsai loss and everyone is just silently eating and sobbing

- “If you ever get boring I’ll drop you”

- Sugawara helping Hinata practice during lunch 💕💕 bby

- When Hinata realizes he’s finally on a team. A real team!

- The first time they pull off the closed eyes freak quick attack

- When Hinata served the ball at KaGEyAMA’S HEAD

- Nishinoya did special training to save blocked balls after the failed Date tech game

- Nishi literally will not rejoin the team until Asahi comes back that’s the most romantic thing. Romeo and Juliet WHO??

- Everyone’s time skip careers are so perfect? They make me so freakin happy?? Asahi a fashion designer? Suga a teacher?? Tanaka a personal trainer? Inuoka a childcare specialist? Ennoshita a physical therapist? Nishi a wild and free vagabond traveling the world? LEV A SUPERMODEL? I DIE.

- the visual image of Ushijima pressing down on the first years and the rest of the team coming together to help them lift the weight so they can win!

- Tanaka, Karasuno doesn’t deserve you bby they would be lost without you don’t you ever forget it

#haikyuu!!#hinata shoyo #kagehina #kageyama tobio #everything on this list makes me sob #I will likely reblog this and add more later #sorry this is so long it’s just like #I love them your honor

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mirrorforevers · 4 years

Text

silently • graham coxon/reader

this is a direct result of this prompt right here

don’t b sorry love, we’re all horny here. this prompt immediately took me out of my writer’s block so yeah gsdjsdhgsdj it was a blessing! tysm for sending it n i rly rly hope u enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it aaaaa i literally couldn’t stop. this one has a special place in my heart now.

also please tell me whatchu think abt this one on my askbox! unbeta’ed bc i love danger

word count: 2.809

warnings: smut. shameless, fast paced fluffy smut.

You couldn't understand why the hell he was so nervous. On the way to your parents' home he asked more questions than a 4-year-old on their way to a park - what are they like, what do they like to do, do they know Blur? Do you think they will find my shoe ridiculous? I'm sure they'll think I’m a weirdo. What did you tell them about me? Even the many kisses you gave him were not enough to calm him down, leaving you to assure him that even if your parents didn't like him - which would be impossible, Graham was never better and more pleasant to live with - you would continue to like him. Very much.

Couldn't live without him, actually.

When you arrive at the door, your mother greets you with a wide, surprised smile - it didn't even seem like she had been begging to meet Graham for months and meticulously planned every minute of the time you would spend together. Her friendly posture seemed to make him more comfortable, the fact that your father was traveling also ended up making him more relaxed. “Dads are always frightening,” he’d say. He agreed to spend the rest of the night there after having an extremely pleasant dinner.

While he does the dishes, you and your mother clean the table when you decide to stop by the kitchen to talk to your boyfriend.

"It wasn't that difficult, was it?" You ask, a daring tone in your voice.

He smiles sheepishly. "Everything went significantly better than I thought it would, honestly."

“You did well. Not that she is hard to please, but you are really sweet.” You kiss him on the cheek. (It's so cute how he still blushes at these things after months of dating.)

"Thank you, love."

"I mean it. I think you deserve a gift for being like this.”

He looks at you, starting to pay even greater attention to the direction of the conversation. “And what do you have in mind?”

You whisper in his ear in the most seemingly innocuous tone you can feign. “I, for one, think you should fuck me senseless in the room upstairs.” He smiles, gaze a little lost in his surroundings as it usually goes whenever he’s pleasantly disconcerted by your dirty talk. Your hands travel his body subtly under his shirt. He hisses: “Can’t wait.” His voice is weak. You love to tease him like that.

You give him a little peck where his mouth and cheek meet – and then you motion to leave after a wink. “See you in a few minutes.”

“Babies, sorry to interrupt,” your mom arrives at the door, instantly killing off the whole mood you’ve created. “I forgot to tell you, but some other people from our family will be here in a few minutes. We’re not done yet!”

Graham’s really confused. You shrug and give him some context – “My family just loves gatherings in general. And they’re excited that I have a boyfriend now, apparently.” To which your mom points: “Exactly! They want to meet you too, Coxon!”

You can feel the anxiety building in him again already. He’s so uncomfortable it hurts, and you know his head is spinning. He doesn’t want to let you down, and after your mom leaves, you go back to calming him down again. “Baby, it’s okay, I promise. If you’re too overwhelmed we--”

“No, no. I signed up for this. I’ll be okay. I’ll have a drink or two…”

You completely discard this possibility. No associating alcohol to social abilities anymore after everything he went through because of it. “No. We’ll find other ways to calm you down.” After some seconds of a silent yet intense brainstorm, you have an idea. But you won’t tell him. “Ok, I know what to do to take your mind off the pressure. Just wait and see, and no beers, alright?”

“Alright… I guess.”

After giving him yet another peck while he finishes cleaning the plates, you quickly run upstairs to change from the tight jeans and band shirt you’re wearing to a very light and flimsy sundress. And that’s all the clothing you choose. It fits you well, and leaves not much to the imagination. You know it’s a family gathering, but it’s also summer, so no severe dress codes were being enforced in any significant way.

He reads your mind the moment he sees you in the dress, shaking his head in pleased disbelief at the sight. He mouths a small “you didn’t” while a stupidly joyful smile slowly shines over the tight expression of worry he once had. To which you mouth back: “I did.” You then go back to playfully teasing each other a bit while you take care of the sudden assembly’s preparations.

Your family members arrive and, as expected, they’re really thrilled to meet your guy. Graham answers so many questions, and ends up sharing so much of how he feels about you with them, and bit by bit, the warmth and wholesome aura of your closest relatives makes him feel truly welcomed. He feels like he knows you even better now, now that he knows where your energy and vitality come from. He could see bits of your personality in every single one of them – of course you are still the splendid whole, but still. It made sense.

Also, you noticed he didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time. He was hungry and you’re glad your plan worked. It was easier to forget about how hard sociability is when his mind was somewhere else.

After a while, though, you could sense him getting fidgetier. Even though he was considerably and visibly more relaxed than he was a few hours ago, that amount of social interaction, specially while sober, still drained a lot of his energy. You take his hands, announcing you two were getting something else to eat. You go to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the lights, and though the house is empty you two could still hear the enthusiastic discussion your family is having outside, slightly drowned by the distance and the walls separating you now.

“You did so great, baby.” You smile, giving him a victory kiss while he envelops you in a tight hug. He’s proud of himself too, and he deserves to feel like that. “They love you already.”

“They’re just like you, in a way. I’m glad everything went well,” he sounds relieved, still tired, but relieved. “I couldn’t stop thinking about that proposal you made me earlier, though.”

“I know,” You plant a chaste kiss on his jaw. “I felt your eyes on me.”

This second kiss he gives you feels different. It’s longer. Famished. Purposeful. His hands are friskier now, traveling hastily throughout your body, and you alternate between giving in and becoming progressively more alert of your surroundings. You can have an idea of where this is heading. The swirling of his tongue around yours makes you dizzy, and the feeling somewhat akin to an electric shock – but milder, and definitely more carnal – that flows through your body when he bites your lower lip and brings your hips closer to his brings you back to reality. “We have to be careful,” you whisper, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air.

“I promise I’ll be. You look delicious in this dress, I… don’t know where to start.” He cups your cheeks while drawing imaginary lines across your lips with the tip of his thumbs.

“Think fast. Never took you for a quickie guy.” You chuckle.

“I like to take my time, yes, but some things can’t wait.”

And with that, with the dexterity and carefulness of a cat, he sinks to his knees in front of you, lifting up your dress with one hand and one of your legs with the other, your leg now resting on one of his large shoulders. He takes hold of your hips, angling you toward him. You hiss in anticipation, and you can feel your core burning in expectation too. Your hands now firmly grab the counter behind you for support while you turn behind you with attentive eyes to see if no one’s coming. You’re safe, for now. The thrill of getting caught is one that will never get old.

His eyes seek yours for reassurance. You, without a word, give it to him. You both look lovely bathed in moonlight. He teases you first, kissing and sucking at the skin on your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your center until after a couple minutes of that sweet agony his lips graze across that aching part of you.

He flicks his tongue delicately through your folds, playing with your wetness. The way his hands caress your lifted thigh so delicately while his tongue inscribes poems to your clit is something that makes your stomach flutter, you simply can’t ignore those tiny adorable actions that make loving him so addictive and rewarding. Keeping yourself silent and struggling to remain somewhat composed to anyone who might see you from outside is a painfully arousing contradiction to the sensations you’re feeling. He’s doing his best to fuck you up, gradually setting a rhythmic pace to his movements with the intent to release the spring now starting to coil tightly low in your abdomen.

“Jesus, Gra—f-fuck. Fuck.” You whisper, breathlessly, while simultaneously suppressing a moan when he delves his tongue even deeper in your core, your fingers instinctively curling and closing a fist on his hair, making him groan. You buck your hips against his lips and you can feel sweat beading on the backs of your knees, heart threatening to jump out of your mouth by how fast it’s racing.

You suddenly freeze when you hear a voice from outside approaching the kitchen and you lightly tap his shoulder. Graham stops on command, but he won’t get up until he’s absolutely certain he should. He sprinkles your thigh with small kisses again, eyes droopy with the high from giving you the pleasure he knows he’s giving you while he admires you. The person heading for the kitchen takes a turn to the opposite side and you sigh in relief. “False alarm. Go on, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You notice he’s panting, and you can only guess how hard he is, judging by the tone of his voice. The time you spent frozen wasn’t enough to completely burn out the fire he’d already created within you, but he’s determined to give you an orgasm before anyone can interrupt you again – now he had two fingers moving, stroking, curling inside of you in delightful ways while his tongue began to work your clit in tight little circles. You could feel him moaning against your sex, he really liked this. And fuck, he was good at it. He slips one more finger into you, his ring finger, making your pleasure soon explode into a trembling climax. You couldn’t stop the little sound you made and he kisses your thigh in reply while still lazily fucking you with his fingers. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers.

One of your hands move to your mouth in order to cover the sound you really want to make. Graham, once again, looks really proud of himself.

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and cleans them with his tongue before he lifts up again as inconspicuously as possible. You try to look like nothing happened, and you’re both glad that, apparently, no one’s giving a single fuck to whatever’s going on where you are. Given the realization, you look at each other and giggle. He then pulls you in a hug, voice husky when he teases, and confesses, “You can’t imagine how bad I want to fuck you right here. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“We’ll have to take this to the bedroom, love.” You reply, still recovering from your orgasm. You can’t risk more than you’ve already risked. He looks slightly…

Disappointed.

You smile. “You thrill-seeking bastard. You enjoyed this way too much, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t you?” He questions back, tickling your sides, a wide, satisfied smile on his face. God, you loved him so much. He pulls you back to him again, and you turn to the other side so he can grind against you from behind. He’s rock hard. “We have some thick curtains here, after all.” You say, mischievously, before you close the curtains as carefully as possible. He lifts up your dress once again, this time high enough so he can fill his hands with your breasts, and he, agonizingly slowly, teases your nipples with his fingertips while he keeps grinding against you. This, alone, gets you motivated enough for another round. “God, Coxon, you’re going to be the death of me.” Your voice’s painfully needy, just like every other part of you.

You spread your legs a little wider to give him better access to you. Feeling cool air against your bare ass, you bite your lip and screw your eyes shut when his hand squeezes your butt. “Dripping wet for me. You’re glistening.” He quietly notes, giving your butt a little kiss - you then look over your shoulder to watch him get his jeans open. His hard cock bounces against your ass as he pushes his boxers down. You wiggle to get him inside you while he tortuously slowly runs the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy. When it bumps against your sensitive clit, you can’t stop the mewl of his name.

After a few more hard breaths, he was inside you. You’re hungry for him too, and the sound of your body clashing against his is something unbelievable. You begin in a faster pace than the one you’re used to – and that’s not a problem. At all. Speed is of essence, but you’re also starving for each other. It feels like no contact is ever 100% enough.

Your hands keep firmly gripping the balcony and when he lowers his chest against your back you can’t hold back the involuntary gasp that leaves your throat and echoes through the empty house. One of his large hands holds your hips in place while he fucks you mercilessly, the other one covers your mouth hastily – his shaky voice betrays how badly this is affecting him too. “Shhh, love. You don't want anyone seeing you in that state. So fucking tight around me.”

He was sinking more deeply into you with each thrust now, and trying to keep your eyes open while his now awaken dominant side is doing that to you, exactly the way you want him to, is torture. You feel like you’re going to pass out from the all the sensorial and contextual stimulation. “You want me to come inside you, baby?” To which you keenly reply with a nod, not bothering to uncover your mouth. This was perfect.

He edged his hips back so he reaches your most sensitive spot and his grip on your mouth constricts when he notices how loud you want to be. “Feels like a dream inside you but keep. Quiet.” His voice lowers to a breathy whisper against your throat and the hands that were holding your hips in place now snaked to the front of your body to help you get off. And like that, you do, coming a second time, this orgasm even more intense than the last. The way your walls twitch around his dick is enough to push him over the edge too, and you feel him spilling inside you. You milk him of every drop, and after you both ride off your high, you feel a tender kiss that lasts for a while in your scalp, a silent “thank you” while he slips out of you.

You put your dress back on place, trying to compose yourself before you can look another human in the eye again. You have a positively overwhelmed, just-woke-up-from-an-incredible-dream look on your face. “You better not get me addicted to this kind of risky shit.”

He laughs while he also does his best to look like not one hair or piece of clothing ever went out of place. “Sorry, Y/N, I think I already did.”

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #alex james #dave rowntree #damon albarn #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham x reader

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suspiciouslybluemilktea · 3 years

Text

This is a part 2 based on the option chosen in part 1!

Link to part one:

https://suspiciouslybluemilktea.tumblr.com/post/656204806961201152/httpsmelkinpumptumblrcompost6517012256408535

Pairing: Suit Saeran x Non Gendered Reader X̶ ̶B̶o̶b̶a̶

Just some fun fluff!

Saeran believes he’s finally come up with the perfect way to make his toy break, by waving a favorite treat of yours in front of your starved face. He presents to you a shining cup of blue boba tea, but as per usual, you make victory for him seem to be impossible. In which way will you choose to ensure he doesn’t get the last laugh?

Option 1, Tickle Saeran

And there he was, so oddly adorable, so unsuspecting of anything as he truly believed you’d absolutely never try to do something to him as he looked away from you. And well, he was wrong. Holding in your snicker, you took a step closer, pulling out your phone too to make it appear as if you didn’t care for him. Closer and closer you came until he could ignore your weaseling no longer.

“Are you watching where you’re going, airhead? You’re going to bump into me at this rate, you idiot. Go pace,” he waved his free arm, “over there. Or how about you sit down and stop! I didn’t catch this weirdo habit of yours on the CCTV...were you holding it in just for me or something? Haha...god you’re so delusional, trying to work this out of me aren’t you? Ahahaha, loser, like I’d-”

You tuned his never ending rambling out. You didn’t have time for a lecture, you had a plan of attack to focus on. You decided to play the role of the pretty fool.

“I’m sorry...I guess I should’ve paid more attention..I’ll go sit.”

“I don’t even know what you’re doing on that phone all day when you’ve got no RFA to talk to and your social media apps have all been blocked. You’re so-”

Paying him no mind again, you pretended to show guilt, taking yet another step towards him anyways.

“And...for the love of-stop where you are!”

He held out his other hand, showing you his open, disapproving palm. Now! You smiled at him sweetly before giving a little lunge, going around his outstretched arm till you were practically in his lap facing him, fingers wiggling and gently digging away into the skin between his hip bones and ribs. And the laughter that escaped him? It was far more sugary than you could’ve imagined, as if the act of tickling him completely melted every bit of coldness away. He was clearly a ticklish guy underneath that rough persona, you barely having to do much to pour that breathy, bellied laughter from him. His whole body seized up in an effort to try and protect himself from you, but nothing could save him now that he was trapped in your clutches.

Before you knew it, the moment was abruptly interrupted by the cup of boba hitting the ground with a loud smack. Blue gushed from the torn lid, surrounding Saeran’s dark dress shoes with a soon to be sticky invasion. The two of you paused, staring down at the mess you caused before he gave you a light shove away from him.

“Are you kidding me, toy? Who gave you permission to touch me!”

His screams were shrill.

“Now look at the damn mess you’ve made, you useless airhead! You like being punished and scolded, don’t you?! Well, good news for you, prince(ss), you’ve got one hell of a punishment heading your way! Far worse than watching me eat whilst you starve!”

You spent the rest of the afternoon with your ears full of Saeran’s yelling, cleaning up the spilled boba and even his shoes. He made you make him another cup to replace his hard work later.

Bad Ending

#unknown saeran #saeran choi #suit saeran #saeran x reader #saeran x mc #mystic messenger saeran #ray mystic messenger

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shibarirobot · 3 years

Text

Aizawa fic - CH3 - Entrapment

18+ Only! SFW (for now)

Shouta Aizawa x Villain!OC/Reader (?)

CH1

CH2

!!TW!! mentions of abuse, trauma, blood

Above are the links to the first two chapters, but for those that just want to get to it, I will briefly summarize. The main character here(who I choose to keep very nondescript so anyone can enjoy this, that may change as things get more physical between them and our hero. I will continue using they/them pronouns for this, but I have lady parts and will probably end up using those words.) is a villain that has just stolen information, fought Aizawa and made an escape to a roof where they fought with a member of their crew and Maybe(?) probably killed them.

Thank you for reading!

Enjoy! x

Sirens blare behind me as cops start to arrive at the scene. I pull the hood on my jacket up over my head and dip around the corner. I hadn’t tried to stick around long enough for them to show up, but left without a quick way off the roof after tossing that damn bat off the side, I had to take the stairs. It was a long way down, but the stairwell was entirely connected all the way to the ground floor, I would have been seriously pissed off if I had to find multiple sets of stairs. My face is mostly obscured by my hood, but I look down everytime a random citizen passes by. I can never be too careful about being seen.

I reach into my pocket and feel for my marble, my anxiety is rising quickly as a group of four teen girls walks towards me on the sidewalk. I almost freak out when my pocket turns up empty, but then I remember that I threw it, that it’s the only reason I’m still walking free. This brings me slight peace before I hear giggling and sneer to myself. High schoolers. I look at their uniforms, even better, hero students. I pull the drawstrings on my hood and it scrunches around my face, hiding me further. Anonymity isn’t the only reason I prefer not to be seen, but it’s the most self preserving reason, the one that makes the most sense. The other is because I’m afraid. Afraid of what they could say, of what they could think. I’ve heard it all, but it never fails to sting a little when the unfiltered truth of others thoughts wash over me.

Weirdo. What. A. Freak.

OMG what are they wearing?

Damn, why do I always have to walk on the outside? Don’t you all care at all if I get grabbed?

Please don’t rob us, please don’t rob us.

Look away. Just look away.

I pull the drawstrings tighter and walk slightly faster, trying to push their thoughts from my brain, but failing grandly as all I can focus on is how much I don’t fit in, how little the rest of the world cares for people that don’t fit in the cookie cutter mold of societal expectations. The girls are having a light hearted conversation amongst themselves as I pass by, a complete confliction to the sour, curdled thoughts that had just slipped out. My eyes are glued to my feet as I take one step after the other, my legs feel like lead as I fight the urge to scream at them and silence their brain functions. I’m so focused on getting myself away from those girls that I barely register the man walking in front of me, talking loudly on the phone. I thump into his back, my eyes still strained down at the tips of my boots. He looks down at me, surprised. I can feel his eyes on me, feel the shock as his words falter into the phone mic.

Woah. All black, huh?

Trying to avoid a conflict, I duck to the side and mutter a curt ‘sorry’ below my breath, already shuffling off. He reaches out to me though, reaching for my shoulder. “Hey, wait. Sorry to bump into y-”

I jerk away without looking. “Don’t touch me… please.” I cough the pleasantry out, it’s hard to hold myself back when all I want to do is swear at him and rip his eyes from his skull, knowing full well this is only a minor inconvenience, not a stopping block for me. I slightly turn my head, looking up at him out of one eye, he looks down at me, stunned.

Wait… Is this the one?

Who is this man? He looks slightly familiar, but I can’t quite place him. He’s got long blonde hair, pulled into a simple ponytail and a goatee that makes him look like he still thinks the year is 2008. My eyes fall back to my feet as I take quick paces away from him. I don’t know him, but it seems like he might know me, which is definitely a bad sign. My anxiety swells again as I feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. This really can’t be good. I can still feel him watching me as I retreat, but his focus shifts back to his phone as someone yells on the other end of the receiver. “Yah, yah! I’m right around the corner. Get off my back, Shouta… I said I’m right around the corner! … No! I’m not in ‘uniform’, it’s my day off!” I let my anxiety roll off my shoulders as I get farther away from him and can no longer hear his shouting. I’m not sure why he threw me off so much, but I’m happy to be crossing the street and leaving his line of vision, turning an extra corner, just to be safe. I can’t afford anyone following me right now.

I’m still a bit rattled as I step down the stairs to the underground train tunnels. The tunnels are old, abandoned years ago after a train derailed and collapsed several tunnels. There were so many casualties, they shut down the entire train system after that, but by then technology had become so advanced compared to the subway that they didn’t even bother rebuilding. The city just closed off the tunnel entrances to the public. Citizens and tourists still come down to the platforms to take pictures and read plaques about the deceased. It’s ridiculous really. They didn’t know any of the people that died, had no connection to them, they would have no clue about the lives lost here if it hadn’t been all over the news. What the news wouldn’t tell the unsuspecting audience of sheep, is that it was actually a hero that crashed the train. The media told the world that a minor earthquake had derailed the train, which was only partially true. A minor earthquake had caused the crash, but a hero had caused the earthquake. A hero was the direct cause of so many shortened lives, innocent and corrupt alike, all dead within seconds. The media just swept that under the rug, not a single news coverage even mentioned his name as they described the tragedy. He continued his hero work as if nothing had even happened, as if he hadn’t murdered the very people he vowed to protect, as if he wasn’t the sole reason those people died. My sister was among those lost. She wasn’t my only family, but the only one I liked, the only one that made life even bearable. A tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it away in frustration, no time for emotions. No time for tears. No time to let myself wallow, because I know once I start on that path, I’ll never stop. I’ll cry until I can’t breathe, until my eyes are swollen shut, until my lungs give out. So I cut myself short. No tears.

The platform is empty when I reach the tracks, the silence echoing. This is the only place I’m free of everyone else’s trilling thoughts buzzing in my brain, the thick concrete walls jamming their signal from getting to me. I release a long awaited sigh, the anxiety finally subsiding and leaving a slight hunger in my stomach. I had been so worked up I forgot to get food. I pull the hood off my head and hop down onto the tracks, walking them like a balance beam, a habit I picked up in my free time. At this point, I don't even put my hands out at my sides. I’ve done this so much, I’m sure I could walk it with my eyes closed. I do close my eyes, basking in the complete silence that surrounds me. Silence that reminds me of the moments I was fighting Eraser Head, the moments where he took my quirk and my head was actually empty. Even now it’s not quite like that, there’s still a ringing in my ears and a hum in the back of my head like static over a radio channel. It’s never been completely quiet inside my head, it only ever fades to background noise, not like when I was with him, when he was staring at me so intensely. I know it’s because he couldn’t look away, because of his quirk, but part of it made me feel… wanted. No one has ever looked at me like that, with such incredible intensity in their eyes. I shake my head, feeling crazier than usual. There’s no way he could want me, no way that I’m not just pushing my own desires onto his actions, no way that I’m not just famished for someone to hold me in their arms like he had held me in his scarf.

Now I know I’m acting foolish. His scarf? Really? He was attacking me, he was fighting me, he’s a hero goddammit. I should be hating him and working up ways to bring his demise, but instead I’m thinking about what it would be like to see him without his hostility, to watch his face as he slept, to see tears trail down his face, to see him begging on his knees. I want to see his vulnerability, surprisingly, without any intention of exploiting it. I just want to see him. I have to see him. I look down and realize I’m pacing. I shake myself again and head for a service tunnel that I’ve commandeered to become my little hideout. It’s really not much, but it’s all mine and 100% off the grid. Maintenance personnel don't even come down here. I’m completely alone and I love it. No prying eyes, no unwanted thoughts, just me and the cold concrete. It’s heavenly.

I moved down here full time a few months after my sister died and it became clear that no one was fixing up the tunnels. My biological carrier, the woman I refuse to call my mother, had begun drinking immediately. Not that she was a stranger to alcohol before, but it had only gotten worse. Her drunk thoughts quickly became her sober thoughts and all of them had to do with me. Why my sister had died instead of me, why she was the one that had to be stuck with me, why she had to have been cursed with such a freakish child. One that cried all the time, one that split her head in two when they had a tantrum, one that couldn't even be put into daycare to protect the other children, one that put her husband in a vegetative state. I became nothing more than a burden to her, if there was any part of her that still loved me, loved me like a mother is supposed to, it was buried deeper in her mind than even I could find.

The mental abuse wasn’t what broke me though, the neglect hadn’t done it either. It was the night she made me beg. She had drunk so much that I felt drunk, felt drunk off the vertigo thoughts she was pulsing out into the room. She stumbled into my room, slurring speech and telling me how ungrateful I was to have someone like her that would take such good care of me. I should have known better, should have been quiet like usual, but I scoffed at that. The wench barely even knew how to take care of herself, the notion honestly tickled me. That did her in. She lunged at me and threw me to the floor, smacking me in the face once on both cheeks. She rolled off of me and left the room as drunkenly as she had come in. I just layed there and cried, hoping she was done, but knowing she wasn’t. I heard the door creak and felt her grab me by the hair, shoving me into a dining chair. The confusion must have been evident on my face, because she hit me again and made quick work of tying me to the wooden chair. She left me there, tied up, for days. She made me beg for food. Beg for water. Beg to be cleaned after I had pissed myself. She made me apologize for everything I had ever done. She made me admit I was a monster, one that hurt people for fun, because I wanted to, not because I couldn’t control my quirk. I can see now how that narrative would be easier for her to stomach, having a person to blame instead of accepting the shitty facts of reality, but I was her child. I had been pure. She was supposed to love me, protect me.

I stop walking, letting my renewed hatred for that woman settle on my shoulders like a warm, heavy blanket. Resolve hardening my heart and warping the soft emotions I had just been there. I heave a sigh and reach into my jacket pocket again, feeling the flashdrive from before. This is what I need. File upon file of precious documents and information right here in the palm of my hand, information that now exists nowhere else.

I start walking again, exhausted from today's events. There had been so many close calls. I’m still reeling from a couple of them, my head still not on fully straight. I make it to my little pad and flop down on the mattress I have tucked away in the corner. I unzip my boots and massage my feet a little, pulling them into my lap to sit lotus style. My laptop had been haphazardly tossed into my bed, so I reach over and plug it into the charging cable snaking from the wall, also pushing the little flashdrive into the side port and letting all the documents download. I curl into a ball on my mattress and flop to the side, I’m so tired and so hungry, I’m not sure what to do. I have no food here so I'm going to have to go back up to the surface level, but it’s still too light out, I’ll wait until the sun has fully set then go stop by a street vendor. In the meantime however, I treat myself to a nap. I hadn’t realized how heavy my eyes were until my head hit the soft material of my bed.

I’m not sure how much time has passed since I fell asleep, but I wake up to my computer beeping. The download is complete. I smile to myself and close the laptop, removing the flashdrive from the side, again not bothering to eject it. I push myself up into a sitting position and rub my hands over my entire face and into my hair, fully waking myself up some more. I look down at myself, still in my full clothes and sigh, I guess I had been far more tired than I thought. My mind drifts to the dream I was having before my eyes had peeled back open. I only really dream when I sleep hard, which isn’t often since I’ve basically ruined my REM cycles. In my dream, I was with Eraser Head again, but this time we weren’t fighting, not really. He still had me caught in that damn capture weapon, but I was completely naked, my body exposed at all the right points for him to reach out and grab me, hit me, bite me. The memory of how his scarf felt against my skin heats up my face, my body clenching tightly. How does he still do this to me? He’s not even near me.

I run a hand down my neck, trying to calm myself. I can’t get all riled up because of some hero. Can I? Another flash from my dream breaks through to the forefront of my mind. Eraser Head has me by the jaw, his mouth so close to mine I would be able to feel his breath on my lip if it had been real. That’s when he sensually licks my plush bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and biting down softly, just enough to drive me crazy. Just enough for me to want more, to feel it in real life. I yell and pound my fist into the mattress. GET!! IT!! TOGETHER!! I launch myself onto my feet, tugging on my boots, determined to get his imagined ministrations out of my mind. I still need to eat anyway. The hunger tugging on my stomach and making it growl loudly, protesting the nap that had zapped away the rest of my evening. I look at my watch and groan, it's already past 9pm.

I head back down the service tunnel that leads to my little crash pad, there’s a small, unpopular ramen stand I like to go to when it’s late. It's not the best bowl of ramen in the world, but it gets the job done and I’m not too picky when it comes to noodles in warm broth. The stand is right outside one of the stairwells into the underground platforms. The lights from the neon sign flicker dimly, it reads ‘OPEN to Business’. I slink down onto one of the stools and drop my money onto the counter, ordering a beef bowl. The man on the other side of the counter pours the broth and cuts vegetables before serving me the bowl with a small bow of his head. I return his formality before delving into the bowl. The soup smells better than usual, or maybe I’m just insanely hungry, either way the first bite leaves me melting into the bowl, hunched over, consuming the food at such a rate it would appear as if I hadn’t eaten in days. I hit the bottom of the white bowl in record time and slam down a few coins demanding more. The chef raises his eyebrow, but complies, almost over filling another bowl for me.

Hungry, ha? Good! Eat more!

I smile at him, actually warmed by his slight kindness, but it is soon forgotten as I begin slurping down noodles, beef, and cooked vegetables. I finish the second bowl almost as quickly as the first and slouch back, patting my very full belly. I was definitely hungrier than I realized. I sigh, content and sluggish as I slide off the side of the stool. I can’t help the light feeling in my chest as I shove my hands into my pockets. The moon is high in the sky and the night air is cool on my cheeks, it’s almost serene. I decide to take a little stroll, there’s another entrance to the platform a few blocks down, connecting to the other side of the service tunnel. I start my walk with casual steps, I’m not in a rush and I just want to breathe in the fresh air a little bit longer. There’s an empty orange soda can on the ground and I kick it with the inside of my foot, sending it skittering forward a few paces, stopping in a perfect place for me to kick it again. I continue kicking the can along with me as I walk, until I kick it a little too hard and it goes tumbling down into a storm drain. I shrug and round a corner, the can just a distraction anyways, something to fiddle with. I reach into my pocket and forget again that my marble isn't there. A prickle of nerves climbs up my arm and to the back of my neck, making my hair follicles stand on end.

Suddenly alert, I tense my shoulders and scan the area, looking above me as well this time, I won’t be taken out from the rooftops again, but still I see nothing. The air around me has shifted. It’s no longer peaceful and delicate, it’s eerie and cold, sending a shiver through me again, the anxiety making me even more jumpy as I hear little sounds around me. Nothing out of the ordinary, city sounds, but it all gets to me, sending my heart rate in an upward spike. I start to run, unsure of where to go. I can feel someone, but where? It’s driving me crazy. I know there’s someone. I know it, but the absolute lack of a presence is what’s really fucking me up. An ubiquitous white flash darts out at me from the dark. I dodge quickly, leaning back so far my head barely misses slamming into the concrete below me. There’s another flash and I throw my legs out from underneath me, catching myself in a near handstand before flinging myself backwards again, still unsure of where the flashes are coming from.

Before I can land back on my feet, I see it, a dark figure blur by me from the corner of my eye. I don’t know what or who it is, but my first instinct is to whip around and try to use my quirk, still only barely sure of the figure’s location. When I spin around, I’m immediately bombarded by two sensations. First, is the clarity in my brain that only comes when Eraser Head is muting my quirk. The second, is the heat that grows in my stomach when I realize exactly who I’m up against. My chest flushes, and my thoughts flash back to my dream, the way he had halfway kissed me. That’s all the distraction he needs to scoop me up in his capture weapon and have me dangling upside down from the nearest street pole.

Seeing him from this angle is different as the blood starts to rush to my head, making me feel dizzy. I thrash around a little, to no avail, before allowing myself to give up, feeling too sluggish from my meal anyways. Even if I manage to get out of this coil I could barely expect to actually get away. Eraser Head slowly saunters up to my upside down body, rocking from side to side, he looks menacing and my body clenches tight again. Gezzus fuck, this man is hot. “You wanted to see me again. That’s what you said, isn’t it?” He pulls the goggles covering his eyes up unto his forehead and I can see his whole face. There’s a scar underneath his eye that I hadn’t seen before, it marks his skin beautifully and I can’t help but imagine what he looked like with the fresh wound, blood running down his face. I bet it was gorgeous. He’s a striking figure on his own, but covered in blood? I gulp heavily, the downward gravity making it hard. Eraser bends his knees, squatting down so we’re on an even eye level, his are still glowing red and I’m reeling from the proximity. He’s so close. He’s right there. I could reach out and grab him if my arms weren’t strung up to my sides.

I can’t touch him, but he’s still close enough for me to throw my head back, letting the momentum force me back down to collide my skull with his. I hear a crunch and feel warm blood trickle up my face from my nose, it's in my mouth too. Eraser stumbles back, not prepared for a headbutt. It’s true what they say, no one wins in a headbutt, but it feels like a win as I see a small trail of blood coming from his forehead, it’s so much hotter that it’s my blood. He looks even better than I had imagined, of course he does. My skull is pulsing already and my quirk is returned to me as he tries to steady himself. He does, quicker than I had hoped. My head is still splitting and I don't have enough time to regain myself before he’s taking my quirk again. Damn, he’s good. I chuckle to myself, licking the blood from my lips. This is actually kind of fun. Eraser Head looks down at me again, gripping my hair tightly now to keep me from moving again. His eyes are wild, his jaw tight. It’s taking all of him not to beat the living shit out of me. I can tell.

Then his expression changes and he looks mischievous, teasing even. The slight confusion I have is short lived before he yanks my head forward, my neck craned at an awkward angle to look directly up at him. “My turn.” He says, dropping my head so I’m swinging back and forth again, only able to see him every couple seconds. He takes a step back and I see him poise himself for a second, spinning into a roundhouse kick that connects with my temple and knocks me out cold.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

THINGS ARE DEF GONNA START HEATING UP FROM HERE!!!! stay tuned hehe XD

#bro this is getting dangerous #I cant keep defending myself #things are getting hot in the kitchen #mr aizawa #aizawa x reader #bnha shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta #bnha x reader #fan fic author #fan fic #my hero fanfic #eraser head #pro hero eraserhead #villian #x reader #bnha oc #my ocs

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chayacat · 4 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (1)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Finally. After months and months of searching for a suitable space, you have found it. Even if it means leave Indiana. After all, you no longer have anything to hold you back there and a change of landscape will do the greatest good. You’ve moved to Roseville, Ohio in order to open your own coffee shop and found locals curious but welcoming to you. Your new apartment, big enough for a couple is certainly simple but with all the decorations you have in your boxes, you will make it as comfortable and warm as you can. You get your apartment keys from James Lawson your landlord, an adorable old man who lives with his wife for forty years.

He warned you about the hot water system that was shared among all residents, so keep it in mind if you don’t want to have some complaint from them. Rent is reasonable and if you have any problem or just want to talk, you just have to knock on his door.

“One last thing young girl! Be careful outside! With these little hooligans, filthy little scoundrels who give no respect for their elders, smoking their bullshit drugs and...” he said becoming grumpier before his wife puts his hand on his shoulder

“Calm down my dear...think of your heart. But I agree and that’s not the worst. Robbery and aggressions happen often if they saw you weak or alone. Just for...Fun as they said. It's really worrying to see such a thing when they could do something better for everyone.” She said.

“No worries! If someone try to piss me off, I'll just kick his ass! It’s not the first time and I know it wouldn’t be the last. As my father said: hit a man where it hurts! But thanks for warning me anyway. You answer with that smile of yours before going to your car get your boxes.

It was exhausting and you sigh in relief when you put the last box on the ground to close the door behind you. After two hours of household and storage with some music to give you motivation, you decide to go out to take care of what will soon be your coffee shop. Located two blocks away, the old building, once a diner, was bigger than you thought. Fortunately, the companies you hired to do work have finished the day before, all that remains is to place the material and decorations, tables and chairs and wait for the delivery of coffee.

“Damn it’s much bigger than I expected. But that’s not bad after all! Still...I have to find a name. Not always the easiest part. The Nebula? Galaxia? Sugar Star?” you said tilting your head thinking of many names as you enter into the shop.

Everything was as you imagine. From walls to the smallest decorations, everything, without overloading, reminded space. Pleasant, relaxing, a real place to escape after a busy and stressful day while drinking a good coffee and devouring a slice of pie or other pastry. You start to organise everything, placing seats, tables and chairs to maximize space allowing future customers to move freely without getting in the way. Suddenly you hear someone knocking on the door and when you turn to see who it is, you notice a woman, in her forties, wearing an apron adorned with flowers that stood in front of the entrance.

“Wow...I didn’t think this place would change that much. and I love it! Much more than Joe's old dinner. I assume you're the new owner? I’m Lindsey Parson, I own the flower shop” she said with a bright smile offering her hand.

“Yes ma’am! Nice to meet you!” you answer as you introduced yourself shaking her hand.

“I hope you’ll enjoy Roseville. And that your business will succeed. When do you think you're going to open it?

“Oh...Well if all goes well, I think I could welcome my first customers on Wednesday! I just have to...find a name.”

“It's always the hardest thing to do when you open a business. I’m sure you’ll find it. And if you want, I can talk about your coffee to my friends. They’ll be delighted to go in a new place to share some news over a good coffee or tea.

“Thanks a lot! that’s really nice of you! I think I’ll be happy to live here than in Indiana.”

“If he’s not decided to make you his prey...” whispered Lindsey turning her face outside slightly worried.

You tilted you head at her words. His prey? Who? Who is she talking about? She breathes deeply and turn her face again to you with a little smile like she doesn’t want to scare you. Not when you’ve just arrived here.

“You know I'm not afraid about some weirdo punk or pervert bastard. If someone looks for troubles, I’ll kick them where it hurts: nuts or ass they’ll choose.” you reply by shrugging your shoulders.

“You’ve got guts, but it won't stop Ghostface from killing you if he decided to make you his next victim. Since many months, he killed many persons and no one know who is he. He’s a real shadow, stalking you and waiting for the perfect moment to hit his victim. Even if you’re not afraid, you should be careful, because he will not give you time or opportunity to defend yourself or run away.” said Lindsey.

“Great. I always move in at the right moment. Well, I guess I'm cursed or something.” you say with a sigh. “Cops have no leads to find him? he must have left traces, clues! no crimes and criminals are perfect. Except in thrillers.”

“He’s not called Ghostface for nothing girl. With him It’s like you try to catch the air in your hand, he plays and makes fun of the cops. He humiliates them and it pissed them off. So please, take care of yourself. and If you see something weird call the cops immediately. Well, I’m going back to my shop. See you around! And good luck!”

She waves her hand, and you wave back at her before she leaves. A few minutes later, you leave the coffee shop making sure all the doors are closed. Since coffee delivery doesn't arrive until tomorrow morning, you have the rest of the day and tomorrow to find a name. the hardest is yet to come. You make your way at home and once you arrive, you park and read the newspaper you bought on the road. After what you’ve heard from Lindsey, you better know more about that Ghostface guy. If cops don’t have any clues about him, the journalist who made the article on the other hand, named Jed Olsen, seems to make a real investigation work.

It's real impressive to see how many details he wrote about the last murder and the victim, a young man named Travis Maloney. Maybe he’s an experienced journalist, working for 25 years, in the fifties, dressed surely with old suspender pants, a slightly mis tied tie, dual focus glasses and an onset of baldness. And also, some smell of tobacco that smokes your nostrils. Imagine all this makes you wince, hope you will never deal with this guy, you will be good at disinfecting the whole apartment after. Once in the building you go to your mailbox to pick up the mail you have transferred as well as some advertisements. As you reach your home, you turned the corner and lost in your throughs you met with someone’s nose.

“Ouch...damn It hurts. I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay? “you start to say before raising your head to your unfortunate interlocutor.

Then you freeze. He was a little taller than you, his coppery blond hair almost approaching red, slightly wavy, came to the shoulders to fits his thin face. He was wearing a black shirt covered by a khaki jacket, black pants and shiny brown dress shoes. But what attracted you the most was his piercing blue eyes hidden behind thin rectangular glasses. He’s handsome, even if he looks like a nerdy boy. He groaned a little as he rubbed his nose before looking at you.

“Well...at least I can say it’s a way to say hello. I'm fine my nose is not fallen so...you can breathe you need more strength to broke it.” He laughed putting his glasses back in place. “What about you?”

“I’m okay, my brain still okay...even if sometimes I should use it more often to avoid something like this.” You answer with a nervous laugh as you introduced yourself. “You sure everything is okay? I didn’t break your glasses or anything?!”

“No worries really.” He assured with an angelic smile. Damn he looks like an angel. “Anyways, I have to change them sooner or later so...it’s doesn’t matter. Nice to meet you, I'm Jed Olsen, it’s seems like you’re my new neighbour, I live the door right next to you.”

You froze again. Okay. Do you remember what you thought before about him? Forget it. Jed Olsen is not an old man that stinks of tobacco but that handsome nerdy boy right in front of you. More he is your neighbour. You mentally slap yourself to have disfigured him in this way.

“Jed? I don’t want to be rude but you look very young to carry a name too ... Old. When I hear that name, I feel like we're talking about someone who has fifty / sixty years old...No offence.” You reply a little embarrassed.

“Let’s just say my parents considered me as a mistake. Maybe that’s why they gave me this old name. To remind me that I was not wanted” said Jed.

“Sorry. But at least they wrong! Look at you! You pull off the nerd look very well! If all the nerds, and more all men were physically like you, this would-be paradise on Earth!”

Oh Shit...did you just say this out loud? Yes, you do, and you mentally slap yourself again to say that JUST in front of him. Jed’s eyes blinked for several seconds, a little surprised about what you say before giving you a little smile scratching the back of his head.

“Well, I got to go! I still have storage to do in the apartment and I have to think about two, three little things! You laughed awkwardly “H-have a nice day! See ya !”

You walk fast to your home door, quickly open and close it after entering inside. You facepalm yourself many times, cursed you in all languages.

“Good job, pickle brain! For a first good impression It’s a failure. He's going to think I'm an idiot and pervert as a bonus. What did is done anyway...I should focus on the coffee for now. I will find a way to apologize to him later. But first a shower is welcomed! I smell like a camel...and I'm being polite.”

You spend the rest of the day thinking about the name of your pastries, in harmony with the theme of the coffee as well as the very name of the coffee shop. If it was easy enough for the first one, you come out empty-handed in your name search for your shop. As Lindsey says, it's not the easier part. And she's right.

***

(Well, this is the first time I write a fiction and especially an English fiction because I’m a French potato x) Sorry if my English causes headaches XD Do not hesitate to tell me what you think, I take all positive/negative/neutral opinions! This will allow me to improve my writing talent which is at the same level as my talent in drawing (0/20 in fact XD) if you want a better view of Danny aka Jed Olsen, check out @arkkosun ‘s page who allowed me to use his/her version of our Danny boy! i thank him/her again by the way! So as promised @arkkosun @sleepydaydreamz and @horror-ink here’s my first chapter! And i hope not the last 0.0″)

#dbd #dbd fanfic #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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