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3terna15unshin3 · 11 months

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Then Because She Goes

When you leave, I cry on the inside

★ Chapter 11 of 15, 5082 words

★ Matty Healy x Original Female Character

★ warnings: !!! mature content, minors please do not interact !!!, smut, thigh riding, edging

<< 10

9 June, 2019

“Fuck,” Este cursed, as a loud sound in the flat below hers caused her to spill a drop of tea on her pants. She quickly wiped it away and got up to grab her beloved Tide pen—drawing on the spot to prevent any staining.

With a film on the TV, it was a quiet morning and a relaxing day off for her. She stayed in comfy clothes, hair tucked away messily in a clip, not worrying about work or bills needing to be paid or how desperately her room needed tidying. Her body had been stationary for most of the morning. It was a deserved laziness, in her opinion. But, a buzz from her phone signalled an incoming text, interrupting her and her tea once more.

matty <3

Sun, 9 Jun at 10:59 AM

Attachment: 1 Image

Thinking of you x

It was a photo of a small yellow origami star. He held it delicately between his thumb and middle finger, raising it up in the air in front of his hotel window. Este could see the architecture of the city he stayed in in the background. Germany, I think, she considered, though she couldn’t remember which city.

Sun, 9 Jun at 11:00 AM

:((((((((

Why the sad face

You’re getting all sappy on me and i miss you

Am I being too sweet for your liking??

Yea like chill for a sec

I’m smiling at my phone and everything

Soz x

But you’ve got me doing little crafts alone in my hotel room just because they remind me of you so maybe you should chill

Or maybe be less chill bc why are you never sappy or sweet with me ????? Hm???

hey I’m sweet !!!!!!!!!! Don’t be rude

The star thing is like painfully cute tho how do you expect me to top that

--- 22 June, 2019

Este ★

Sat, 22 Jun at 18:35 PM

Hey, I know it’s been hard lately and that you’ve been busy writing but this poem makes me happy and I think you need some hope at the moment

Attachment: 1 Image

Maybe you’ve heard of it already or will think it’s too simple but it's what I want to say to u :)

Matty’s heavy eyes stared at the bright blue light of his screen. The band were closing out on their sixth month of touring, and his head had gotten a bit cloudy. Desperate to get Notes On A Conditional Form out as soon as possible, any free moments they had were spent writing and recording. He poured so much of himself during every show and even more into every song written that not much was left when he was on his own. It was nonstop. Slumps like this were bound to occur while on the road, and now that Matty had healthier ways of coping with them, they weren’t as big of a deal. But they were still there, eating away at his energy—blurring the lines of his self esteem and self hatred.

The poem Este attached was “The Orange” by Wendy Cope. He hadn’t heard of it before. So, he read the words quietly to himself.

“At lunchtime I bought a huge orange—the size of it made us all laugh. I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—they got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do. Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park. This is peace and contentment. It's new.

The rest of the day was quite easy. I did all the jobs on my list and enjoyed them and had some time over. I love you. I'm glad I exist.”

Este was right about it being simple. But it was its simplicity that made Matty feel it deeply in his stomach. If he’d been sent such words by any other person in the world, it might have felt patronising—but coming from her, it made sense. There wasn’t anything that he loved more than things, art, that commanded him how to feel. Este knew that. And the words she sent commanded him to find light in the simple things. To bask in the innocence of life. To realise that if he isn’t happy, he’s just human. Fleeting moments of beauty are what matter. It was exactly what he needed to hear.

Este ★

Sat, 22 Jun at 19:00 PM

Please never stop sending me stuff

Reading the line “I’m glad I exist” felt so important

Because I am

Especially with you around x

--- 1 July, 2019

Luckily, flying from Stockholm back to Manchester wasn’t very far. So, it was easy for Matty to get on a plane to catch Este’s 28th birthday between his shows. He was a day early, but it was the only chance he had to come see her—so he took it. And somehow managed to keep it a surprise.

With Cate’s help, Matty followed through with his plan to Uber to their flat as soon as he landed; to drop off his stuff, grab food, and set up birthday decorations before walking over to Greenhouse to see Este. A bouquet of variously coloured tulips with brown paper surrounding it was cradled in his arms as he made his way. The sun peeked through the partly cloudy sky, beaming down on his tired state. He shook the nerves out and reached for the door handle.

The familiar chime caught him by surprise, as the seven months it had been since he’d last stepped into the shop forced him to forget that they were there. It brought Este’s attention to the front from her spot in the back corner where she was shelving. Sam poked his head out from the back room in curiosity.

“I heard an ‘Este Manansala’ turns 28 tomorrow…” Matty announced sarcastically before she realised who he was. The look on her face once she did was priceless.

“Oh my god. Shut up,” muttered Este as she weaved through the cramped furniture to embrace him excitedly. A giddy and uncontrollably happy laugh came from her belly had Matty leaned back while they hugged to lift her feet off the orange carpet.

“Happy Birthday, love.” he whispered in her ear before putting her down. Este tried to wipe the dumb smile on her face but failed. She kissed him instead.

Matty tasted like cigarette smoke and smelt of the flowers he held. The month between their last kiss didn’t stop her from recognizing the familiar shape of his lips when they were against hers. It lingered long and deep. They sighed into each other with satisfaction.

“What are you doing here? You’re mad,” reacted Este when they pulled away.

“To take you out on your birthday.” His hand remained on her cheek as he responded, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin. “And by ‘take you out’ I mean take you to the food I’ve put on your dining room table.”

“Have you already been by my flat?”

Matty nodded. “Went straight there after I landed. We boarded early, so Cate said I almost caught you before you left.” He laughed at the dumbfounded look on Este’s face as she struggled to accept the fact that he was real and face-to-face with her. His arms extended to shove the flowers into her grasp. Tulips were her favourite.

“Are you going to introduce me?” His finger pointed at Sam. “Or will you just stare at me with your mouth open right in front of your boss?”

She snapped out of it and turned to face the blond shop owner.

“Gosh, I’m sorry. Sam, this is Matty. My, um, my—”

“Nice to meet you, mate. I’ve been in here a couple times over the years and seen you then, but I’m glad to be formally introduced, I guess,” interrupted Matty.

It was a bit odd that he cut her off so quickly, as the timing allowed her to almost hear his fear of the topic—audibly in his voice. Her smile faltered slightly as the two men made small talk, and she spiralled silently about what she could’ve said. I should’ve just stopped at ‘This is Matty,’ instead of trying to explain who he is, thought Este. Did Matty think I was going to say he was my boyfriend? Do I want him to be my boyfriend? Does the idea of me thinking he’s my boyfriend scare him?

Her ears perked and she snapped back into the conversation when Matty mentioned that they should be taking off soon.

“Food might be getting cold by now, E. We should get going,”

“Matty, it’s half two.” She looked over at Sam for confirmation that she couldn’t just leave in the middle of her shift, but was met with a smug smile instead.

“Go on.” he encouraged with little explanation.

“Who’s going to look after the—“

“Oliver’s on his way. He wanted extra hours this week anyway.”

Guilt settled into Este’s chest. “You didn’t have to call him in and make him rush over just for me, Sam. I feel terrible,”

“I didn’t call him in. I put him down for a three o’clock start when I made his schedule last month.” Sam reassured, as he came around the counter to stand in front and lean on it. He crossed his arms, waiting for Este to accept that he had been in on the plan to let her off early.

But, she didn’t let down. “Then why would you schedule me as well?”

“Jesus Christ Este, to surprise you! Now please leave, I’m begging. I can’t take this any longer,” Sam said while laughing in her face and forcing her towards the door. “Happy early birthday.”

“How long have you had this planned?” asked Este, turning to Matty and waiting for a response.

“A while. Any more questions, or can we go?”

Este’s arm tangled within Matty’s as they walked the few blocks back home along the pavement. Her work bag was slung over his shoulder as she held the tulips and sniffed them occasionally for the comfort of their fresh smell. Now that the shock had disappeared and she had the time to fully take in his appearance, Este smiled at his outfit. The Vans tied round his feet were paired with a bright and fitted graphic tee, tucked into high-waisted green trousers.

“You’re staring at me.”

A giggle escaped her lips as her and Matty turned down her street and approached her flat. “Am I not allowed to?” she argued.

He shrugged, with a smile. “I don’t mind. Just want to know why.”

“Dunno, really. You’re just pretty. And I like your outfit.”

Her keys jingled when she pulled them out of her pocket to let them into the building. As they stepped in and through the next couple of doors, soon finding and pressing the ‘up’ button for the lift, Matty said, “You know, you’d think I’d be weird about you calling me ‘pretty’, but it actually felt quite nice.”

“I can call you ‘pretty’ more often, if you want. I think of it all the time, so I’d just have to start letting you know when I do,” Este suggested, turning her doorknob and entering her place.

There was a banner of letters that spelled out ‘happy birthday’ delicately strung across the wall that sat above the dining room table. The decoration was slightly crooked, but colourful and iridescent—so the sun pouring in through the window bounced off of them and shone glittery reflections all over the room. Floaty balloons were trapped against the ceiling with their strings hanging downwards at different lengths. A vase of water was the centrepiece, ready to be the home for the tulips that Este still held as she looked around. Her eyes travelled to everything else littered on the table; noticing the handful of tall tapered candles whose colours matched that of the flowers, confetti scattered across the surface of the stained wood, a bottle of wine, and a couple of takeaway bags.

A nervous Matty stood behind and waited for her to say something. When silence remained, as she continued to search for ways to thank him, he filled the space by slinging his arm around her shoulder and rubbing it gently.

Bringing his face next to hers, Matty asked, “Do you like it?” and pecked her temple.

“Does the general public know that you’re this soft of a bloke?”

He shook his head at her inability to take things seriously. “They’ll catch on eventually.”

Este laughed and turned to him, grabbing his chin, pulling it towards her to give him a kiss on the cheek back. “It’s perfect. You have a good eye,”

“Cate helped pick everything out. I’m not the best decorator. But she was busy dealing with the helium tank to fill all the balloons so I ended up laying everything out by myself in a rush. That’s why it looks a bit shit.” Matty explained, pointing at the crooked letters on the wall.

“Stop it,” she insisted, unwrapping the tulips to dip their stems in the vase and complete the decor. “There’s nothing ‘shit’ about you. It would’ve been enough even if you’d shown up empty handed and sat on the sofa with me all night.”

Stepping closer to the table to copy her, Matty unpacked the food he’d ordered for them. He uncorked the bottle and poured a glass of wine for each of them. She sat down, getting comfortable and increasingly hungry as her stomach rumbled. Hearing its noises and laughing, the two of them dug in.

Once their plates were scraped clean, Matty threw out a “Room for cake?” while a smile sat on his face, knowing they were both too stuffed to even sniff something sweet.

She cradled her full belly, slouching in her chair. “I can’t bring myself to turn down cake but I’m frightened that like, anatomically, it won’t fit in here.”

Matty got up and walked to the fridge to fetch it anyway. “Let's just do the whole ‘sing and blow out the candles’ thing. We can eat it later.”

The white box was set on the table. He let her open the lid and slide out the dessert herself. It was a small heart-shaped cake with light green and white piped icing, reading ‘Happy 28th Este’ across the top. Bright maraschino cherries lined its edge. She grinned at how perfect and delicate it was. A 2 and an 8 candle were peeled out of their package by Matty, who stuck them into the icing, getting a bit on his finger in the process and licking it. Once a match was struck and the wicks were ignited, Matty sang the classic song to her gently.

“Happy birthday to you,” he finished with the last line, maintaining eye contact from across the table.

Este’s brown irises glowed a honey colour from the warmth of the flickering fire, while her cheeks ached from the smile plastered onto it that refused to leave. Looking down to the cake to avoid confronting Matty’s phone that now pointed up at her as he took a picture, she paused to make a wish. He admired her through his screen. A couple of seconds passed before she finally blew out the flames.

As expected, they couldn’t bear the idea of eating a slice. So, they packed it up into its box and placed it back in her fridge, continuing to clean their lunchtime mess, collecting the dishes in the sink and tucking their seats in. But, Matty knew that the corny birthday celebrations weren’t over just yet—he still had her small pile of wrapped presents sat next to his bag, which he then picked up and brought over.

“You really didn’t need to get me anything. All of this is so great already,” she complained, guilty that she hadn’t done anything for his birthday, and gesturing to everything he’d done so far.

They found comfort on her fluffy sofa as he shook his head.

“It’s just something small. Don’t worry.” reassured Matty, who set the three rectangular gifts in her lap. They were similar in shape and size, individually & messily wrapped in patterned paper. He watched as Este’s apprehensive fingertips ripped through the material and revealed what was beneath it.

Of course they’re books, she thought, smiling at how predictable the two of them were. But, what she saw next caught her by surprise. As the other two got unwrapped, Este came to realise that they were all books she had been desperate to read. The shock came from the fact that she hadn’t ever mentioned the titles to Matty, and that as she flipped through them, they were written in. Sticky tabbed, underlined, and starred lines jumped out to catch her attention. Her mouth remained agape for a minute.

“How did you know that I’ve been wanting these?”

“Just looked at that app you showed me during Big Weekend. Came in handy,” he explained. “I picked the five from your ‘to read’ list that seemed the most interesting to me but only ended up getting to finish these three.”

“See, I told you it’s useful.” She laughed in disbelief as she inspected each novel. “Did you really read all of these and write in them for me?”

Matty nodded, grabbing one and looking through it himself. “They’re all great. Helped quiet down my thoughts, I think, since they’ve been too loud lately. Plus, they’re kind of like letters—everything I marked as important or stand-out, and every note I wrote in the margins was done with you in mind. Written for you. It made it fun,”

Este pulled him in for an embrace, squeezing him with delight. A couple of repeated pecks landed on his cheek.

“This is so thoughtful of you, Matty. I don’t know what to say,”

He kissed her once she finished speaking. Her lips had a minty flavour to them.

“So what did you wish for? When you blew out your candles?” Matty wondered aloud, while turning sideways and crossing his legs over one another, to face her fully.

Este copied him. “It won’t come true if I tell you,” she defended, “But there is something I was thinking of getting for my birthday.”

“And what’s that?”

“Do you know of a good piercer around here?”

Less than ten minutes later, Matty and Este found themselves walking side by side into the heart of downtown Manchester. Affleck’s was their destination; and the journey was short and sweet. She’d explained to him that she loved the adrenaline of getting pierced and was in the mood for some change. Since The Studio, the piercing and tattoo parlour within the beloved market, took walk-ins, they wasted no time before heading out of the flat with determination.

It was the early evening on a Monday, so there weren’t many people around, and there wasn’t a wait to get seen by a piercer. A couple of waivers were signed before Este winced in pain from the needle going through the cartilage between her nostrils.

Matty held her hand while it happened and hissed painfully alongside her as she squeezed his fingers to brace herself. The minute he complained that she was hurting him, Este gave him a death stare as the needle still sat in her nose and the piercer prepared the jewellery for insertion. Clearly her pain was a bit more intense than his. He got the message.

After it was done, she was handed a mirror to take a look. Este liked the symmetry of the new silver hoop that went through her septum; how it balanced out the weight of the plethora of jewellery stacked on either of her ears. She grinned at her reflection.

“I love it, thank you so much!” said Este, to the piercer. She then looked over to Matty, waiting for his opinion. He reached out to flick a piece of fluff out of her hair, lovingly.

“You’re like my little bull.”

There were stars in his eyes.

With their mission accomplished, they wandered around the rest of the shops without any intention of buying anything else. Her arm was linked with his. They pointed at mannequins clad in heinous clothing to make fun of them and people watched.

“Want to see something funny?” asked Matty as they approached a stairwell far too familiar to him.

“Depends on what it is.”

He dragged her up the first flight and Este’s eyes scanned over its walls. Every inch was covered in posters. A certain one caught her eye, and she instantly knew what he was referencing. Young Ross, Adam, Matty, and George were displayed on an angsty black and white poster near the floor, casually accompanied by ones of David Bowie, The Smiths, and Bob Dylan. Este couldn’t help but laugh at how different Matty looked in the dramatically contrasted shot.

“My god, look at the state of your hair!” she teased.

“A lot of people actually want me to bring the shaved sides back, you know.”

She stepped back and held her phone up, gesturing for him to pose for a picture next to the silly anecdote, still laughing. “I can’t even recall how many times I’ve walked up these stairs without even noticing your little face down there.”

Matty kept a straight face and held up his hand in a thumbs-down position for her photo. “I like to come here whenever I’m in town and have the time to. Seems to get smaller every time.”

“Okay, granddad.”

Their legs grew tired of sauntering around with no objective, so soon enough, they collapsed back onto Este’s sofa. She lazily put something random on the telly and sprawled her legs across Matty’s lap—laying down while he sat upward. Rhythmic circles were traced onto the skin right above her ankles by his fingertips as they happily relaxed in the privilege of doing nothing, but together. The lack of plans helped them appreciate every minute passing; how they somehow seemed to pass by slower and feel sweeter as they sat in each other’s company.

In need of the toilet, Este forced herself to leave the nestled position they’d spent the recent hours in. The chill enveloping Matty after her body warmth was no longer draped across him made him frown. But, she came back quickly, and wasn’t even gone long enough to need to ask him what she’d missed on the episode of Bake Off that flashed on her TV screen.

Returning to Matty and the sofa, she decided to sit on top of him. Her knees were on either side of his hips. He smirked at her forward and suddenly bold demeanour as his hands found themselves on Este’s arse. They were comfortable there.

“Have a good wee?” Matty asked with a laugh.

“Yeah, great actually. Thanks.” Her fingers combed through the long and shaggy section of his hair, near the front, to part it down the centre and tuck the curls behind his ears. Seeing more of his face was the goal in her action. “You look pretty.” she repeated, from earlier. Matty’s smirk morphed into a closed-mouth smile at the sound of her niceties.

“I feel pretty with you on top of me.” he retaliated, suspending the suggestive mood she initiated.

Este’s hands remained on either side of his neck when he brought her lips down to meet his. They moved against one another delicately, but both wanted more. It was only a matter of time before the lust between them escalated the heat of the moment. So, she deepened their kiss, pulling Matty in closer and shifting her hips to feel more of him and humming in the process. She winced when his nose brushed against hers and her fresh piercing, but it didn’t stop her.

The friction she created over his bulge made him groan. He pinched the skin at her waist with greed as his hands crept beneath her top. It only encouraged Este to continue with her fluid movements, his pants growing tighter.

As much as Matty wanted to revel in the pleasure of his girl hovering above him—one of his favourite places for her to be—he considered the fact that it was her birthday. Her day. The thought made him want to try something new.

“Can I make you feel good?” he whispered, breaking their lips apart for air and to squeeze his question into the muggy air.

She nodded against him, beginning to climb off of his lap to lay on her back; assuming Matty wanted to go down on her. But, he stopped her before she could. Instead, he just sat up straighter, nearer to the edge of the cushion beneath them, and used his hands to position her straddle over only one of his legs. He wanted Este to ride his thigh.

They didn’t bother taking off any of their clothes. His hands guided her back and forth, her eyes fluttering shut in indulgence as the seam of her shorts and the pressure of his leg pressed against her clit. She bit back a moan with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

“Let me hear you, E.” encouraged Matty. Obliging, the next roll of her hips dragged a string of profanity out of her throat. “That’s better.”

The tightness in her lower stomach grew. Hot breath cycled between them as they breathed through their mouths during the lulls that found their lips no longer tangled together. Este could feel his hard-on when the top of her thigh came forward to graze it, growing wetter and closer to her climax by the second. She was a mess, and putty in Matty’s hands.

His eyes were glued to her. The way she moved and moaned his name with determination drove him insane, and made it hard for him to ignore the throbbing in his pants. Her face dropped into his neck, scratching at his skin softly with her teeth as she whined.

“Harder,” Este muttered, clearly getting close. He listened to her command and used his hands to bring her heat along his leg with aggression. The increased force made her cry out into him, head still hidden beneath his jaw.

Matty let her moans heighten in pitch, feeling her start to shake against him. But, suddenly, his hands slowed down her movements. “No,” he told her, “Not yet.”

Cruelly, he deprived her of the feeling she was chasing. A gentler and slower pace continued, much to Este’s dismay, as she quietly begged for more.

“Matty, please,” fell from her lips with desperation.

In response, he began building up the pressure, but at a snail’s pace. Her hips buckled forward in attempts for any pleasure she could get.

“Ask me one more time, baby.”

Her thick hair fell around her face, sticking to her sweaty skin as her head spun. “I need to come. Please, let me,” she forced out to him between her heavy breathing, and as soon as Matty heard her words, he tightened his grip and encouraged her hips to move faster. The sudden boom of resistance on her sensitive core drew more noises from her mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Este could almost see stars. Only a couple seconds of him grinding her against him and uttering filth into her ear finally brought her to her orgasm, the convulsed muscles in her abdomen releasing their pressure. A wet patch soaked through her shorts and onto Matty’s when she moaned his name. The two of them slowed to a stop to catch their breath and kiss hungrily once more. A giddy expression couldn’t be wiped from her face if she tried.

When she gained a bit of her composure back, still sat on Matty’s lap, she took note of the almost concerning amount of sweat that encompassed their skin and the now dirty clothing they were wearing. “I think I need a shower,” Este decided.

Matty scoffed. “You’re going to leave and take a shower? When this is what you did to me?” he pointed to his crotch in disbelief. He was painfully hard.

Giggling and with a shrug, she responded, “Then come with.”

--- 2 July, 2019

That night, they washed the perspiration off of each other (after the shower head Este promised) and threw on comfy clothes. Both exhausted, they planned on climbing into her bed—but when Matty caught The Goonies popping up on the TV out in the lounge, they ended up staying awake.

Not for much longer, though. They must have only seen ten minutes of the cult classic film before dozing off and spending the night with their jumbled limbs squished together on the sofa. Aching muscles were a theme of the morning that followed.

It was reasonably early when they woke. Matty remembered to wish Este happy birthday the minute he learned she was conscious, showering her face in playful pecks. She didn’t want to do anything more with her day though, and thought yesterday was kind enough for him to plan. A quiet day in with Matty by her side was what she wanted. So they did exactly that, and stayed round her flat to do more nothings. It was peaceful. It was needed.

The annoying thing was that Este didn’t allow him to smoke in the house. When it was a joint, cracking a window was fine—as she frequently did so herself—but she forced him to take his cigarettes outside. As Matty needed another one, she followed him down, to soak up all of him she could get.

But, in the back of her mind, Este knew she was looking for a moment to be serious with him. Have a conversation about what had been fogging her conscience since he surprised her at Greenhouse the previous day.

Leaning against the wall of her building while he took a drag next to her, she mustered up the courage.

“So,” she started quietly, “Do you see other people?”

12 >>

#matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x oc #the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy fic #tbsg #Spotify

28 notes · View notes

lotus-pear · 7 months

Note

your akai art made me finally read akai and now im devastaded and i already sent ito like a paragraph but i need to send more cuz it's the only thing i'm thinking about and AHDGHS anyway, have you considered drawing more of them... if you can... i'm not pressuring or anything, only if you ever have time or randomly want to. i'm so in love with your akai soukoku (DAZAI OH MY GOD you drew him perfectly. i want to chew on them. or any of your art. i'm so in love with your art in general) and yea... anyway, your housewife dazai and military husband kunikida are SO CUTE. dazai really reminds me of cinderella ngl and short hair kunikida has me going feral 💀 okay i'll stop bothering you now, bye <333

uH NO COME BACK ITS OK ITS OK😭😭 firstly im flattered ty im glad you like my art <33 actually i based dazai's dress on belle's from beauty and the beast so you're close lmao

ALSO YES.. I THINK I JUST MIGHT MAKE MORE AKAI ART I RLY WANTED TO DRAW CHUUYA AND DAZAI IN THE FIRE NATION FITS. i will have to ask dear ito for a reference bc idk if they're dressed like zuko or smth i was too busy gushing over skk to pay attention to details

#anyway ty again you're so sweet😭#lotus’s asks

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yeppeudau · 2 years

Text

Chapter twenty-five: P1 FLOP

banner by: @/seungstarss

⎙ synopsis: In which you and Soobin have a crush on the others bff, who which coincidentally, are dating. So you do what any other people with a common goal would, and try to break them up. Except it doesn't go exactly as planned...

playlist

⎙word count: 1.6k

⎙warnings: quick mention of shitting and throwing up

♡a/n: one picture in the middle and some at the end. sorry this took so long I was doing last minute changes, enjoy! Also! I have new smau coming soon here!

You arrive at the game with Beomgyu, a bright grin plastered on your face. You couldn't be anymore excited to hangout with him, even if it was only for an hour or so, You'd take what you can get.

Scanning over the gymnasium you recognize a certain group of particularly rowdy students, they never stop do they? Turning to Beomgyu you point over to where your friends are telling him they probably saved a seat for the two of you. Taking his arm you start directing him over to where the others are, when he suddenly stops to glance around the gym once, and then one more time before opening his mouth "Do you think we can see Areum before the game starts?"

You go silent for a moment, of course he'd want to see her that is his girlfriend after all. Maybe you went silent for too long because Beomgyu must have noticed your silence as he opens his mouth again but you beat him to it.

"...She's probably busy! Maybe after halftime? "

You guess that was a good enough answer because whatever he was about to say doesn't come out his mouth as he just nods in response. And you take that as you signal to keep walking to your seats.

Once you get up to the bleachers you're greeted by your friends, who tell you where the seats they saved. You settle down on the uncomfortable wooden bleacher resting your feet on the one the vacant one below as Beomgyu does the same. He's focused on the basketball teams warm up currently going on in front of him and you try to do the same but you can't help but be more interested in the boy next to you, then the loud sounds of shoes squeaking on the gym floor and boys passing a ball back and forth.

"The view is pretty good over here" He says, snapping you out of your thoughts to only let out a light hum in agreement.

After that he asks you about how you've been, and that he apologizes for stealing Areum so much, to which you joke he needs to give her a boyfriend free day (or every day) and the conversation runs as smoothly from there. With the occasionally cheering when you notice your team has scored or the 'boo's' of the other. None of this is anything special to you but its a nice familiar feeling you missed.

"So are you still drawing?" the question comes very out of left field to you considering you had just been talking about how you finally managed to reach diamond in LOL (*League of Legends). But of course you answer him anyway,

"Oh.. Yea, I'm in the art club after all I kind of have to." you state simply

He chuckles "You act like you only draw for art club."

"Well I haven't drawn on my own in a bit.." you trail off a bit, already knowing what the next question will be

"Well why not?" he asks with a slight tilt of his head.

'Because my inspiration is never around ', is what you want to say, but you don't. Instead opting for a shrug of your shoulders, which he just looks at you for what seems like a bit too long before huming in response

Sometimes deep down you wonder if Beomgyu actually knows how much he affects you, how all of you sketchbooks are full of him and its not just on "occasion". But you don't sit on that too long before you're soon brought out of your thoughts when Beomgyu tells you he's going to take a bathroom break and he'll be back soon to which you give him a nod.

As he walks off you're about to take out your phone when someone ruffle your hair

"What the- Oh its just you Yeonjun" you say dryly

Yeonjun scoffs while his lips form into a warm smile as he moves to occupy the used to be empty seat next to you "Wow could you sound more excited? Anyway how are things going over here?"

You roll your eyes "Do you think things are going well?"

The boy next to you rests his chin between his thumb and finger pretending to think for a moment before shrugging "I don't know, I've been trying to beat Huening in smash this whole time." He gests with his chin over to the boy currently hunched over his Nintendo Switch. Why even come if they weren't going to watch? Well you're not here to watch the game either, but you smile a little at how hard it looks like Kai is trying.

"Do you not think things are going well?" Yeonjun asks bringing your attention back to him

"Aside from him noticeably stopping himself from checking his phone the last 5 minutes?" you let out a short sigh "I guess so."

Eventually 5 minutes turn to 10, and 10 turns to half time and Beomgyu still isn't back yet from the bathroom. You were supposed to have him out of here by now. but the world does not seem to be on your side today.

You have half a mind to take out your phone and ask him where he is. But the guaranteed he'd see it right now when you have an idea of what he's doing deters you away from that idea, instead opting to text his best friend.

And when he doesn't answer you simply scoff "Could he really be that busy?" Things are best done yourself you suppose.

After letting one of your friends know you're going to the "bathroom" you make your way down the mostly empty halls of the school, only seeing the occasional teacher or what you assume are some student council members busily walking around. All this when they don't even know if the team will win? Well the last you saw the scoreboard it was looking pretty good so maybe optimism is a virtue, was that the saying?

Since you can't just walk into the boys bathroom and check -at least not with these people around- you opt for heading to the student council room.

As you're about to turn the corner you stop yourself and peep around it instead when you hear and then notice the all too familiar couple at the end of the hall, happily talking. Not missing the way Beomgyu reaches for Areums hand and how she smiles oh so brightly in response. 'Completely enamored with each other, typical' you think rolling your eyes a little at the sight of them, acting like they aren't in a school (as if that's the reason) but no one is around anyway. Maybe you should be more concerned about looking like a creep if someone sees you like this.

You stare for just a little longer before noticing they are definitely going in for a kiss and you quickly turn away hiding behind the wall. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding in as you close your eyes leaning back against the cold bricks, though you expected this it still doesn't hurt any less.

"I told you it wouldn't work"

You jump startled, eyes snapping open at the unexpected voice as you hold your hand to your chest. Until you finally realize who exactly is in front of you, you punch their arm "God you scared me!"

"Ow!" the blue haired boy winces as he rubs his arm before he mumbles something along the lines of 'Maybe pay attention.'

You glare at him, how dare he tell you to pay attention when he firstly, opened his big mouth first, secondly ignored your messages, and thirdly helped let this happen. Unreliable much?

"Shut up, don't you get tired of being a kill joy?"

Soobin pursues his lips as he peaks around the corner to look at the couple then back to you "At times like these no, not at all."

You frown a little as you cross your arms at his response. "Well I'm used to this and nothing works on the first try after all!" you say trying to sound as confident as you can, which doesn't seem to workd as Soobin scoffs at you for this, maybe you just are that delusional.

"That's what you got from this?" he asks and you mindlessly nod before pushing yourself from the wall you were leaning on "Well I'm gonna go."

"Go where?" he raises his eyebrow at you

You think for a second if he really needs to know, which he doesn't but you decide to tell him anyway "Home? There is no point in me staying here if he's not gonna pay attention to me." You shrug. Not that you didn't have other reasons to stay, your friends are here, you'd get to see the basketball team kick butt and you'd get your free food. But if you're being honest you're no longer in a good mood, and for once its not just because Soobin showed up.

At that he blinks a couple times as if taken a back by how blunt your response just was "Wow.. you sound like a real narcissist right now." he states simply. You take that thought back, it is because he showed up.

"Thanks!-" You fake exclaim, making sure he can see your eye roll "-Anyway enjoy looking at that." You throw your thumb back over your shoulder to where your best friends are around the corner before you simply walk away.

"She really is a piece of work..." is all you hear Soobin mumble while walking off.

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taglist(open): @maitenight @kori-roe @rich-man-v @gyuville @darrensos @etherealcherrie @jjunis @i-yeseo @igotkpoops @ashxxkook @ilvaussie @soobin-chois @cha0thicpisces @ineedaherosavemeenow @luvsoobs

blue means couldn't be tagged</3

#wkcnet #txt x reader #txt smau #soobin x reader #choi soobin #soobin smau #soobin imagines #txt social media au #tomorrow by together #smau #social media au #high school au #enimes to lovers #Best Friends🩹

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shiftingwithtrashie · 2 years

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♡Shifting motivation♡

I'm sorry for not posting in a while, but I was busy and didn't really think much about shifting, but I will post more now.

Today I wanted to make a post, which will (hopefully) make you motivated to shift and will help you to connect yourself with your DR-self. I will write a few questions in this post, which you answer as your DR-self. It doesn't matter if you have shifted yet or not. You can answer these questions in your head, but feel free to write them in the comments!

Where are you shifting to?

Why did you choose this DR?

What word describes your DR best?

What word describes your DR-Self best?

Who from your DR would be most likely to curse out on an old person?

Who are you most excited to meet?

Who from your DR would most likely to fall asleep in class?

Who gives the best hugs?

Do you have any pets? If yes, which ones?

Who's in your friend group?

What's your favorite memory?

Do you have any powers? If yes, describe them

Do you have a love interest? If yes, who is it?

What's your favorite place?

Ketchup or Mayonnaise?

Rain or snow?

Movie or show?

Breakfast or dinner?

Summer or winter?

Night or day?

What are your talents?

Do you have siblings? If yes, what are they like?

How is your relationship with your parents?

What's your style?

What's your hair colour?

Something random you scripted

Favorite scenario you scriped

What are your hobbies?

♡My answers♡

I'm shifting to my own reality, which is kinda like the anime sword art online, but also all of my favourite characters are there with me

I already had one DR with all my favorite characters, but I always wanted to fight in my DR's and that one DR was without fighting. One time I just randomly got motivated to write a script and shift into a DR, where I can fight with my favorite characters against monster, so I just wrote a new script

Chaotic

Overpowered

Definitely hyoko

Nagito

Chiaki or Ganyu

Itadori

Yea, I have two cats, one of them is black and one is white

Too many of my favorite characters are there so I will let fate decide

Didn't shift yet and I didn't script any scenarios yet

I can heal others and myself and also copy their powers under certain circumstances

I didn't script any yet

The library in my house, it's so peaceful there

Mayonnaise

Snow

Show

Breakfast

Winter

Night

Uh I'm very good at drawing

Yea and she is like my sibling here

Uh they are nice, but I don't see them often

Grunge

Brown

I scripted, that everyone in my DR believes in shifting

I didn't script any

Drawing, reading and writing stories also I love music and video games

#reality shift #desired reality #reality shifting #shifting #shifting realities #shifting community #shiftblr #shifter #reality shifter #quantum jumping #shifters #shifting motivation #shifttok

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lmess-artzies · 8 months

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'Kay, so! Welcome, friend! Let's have a quick briefing!

remade my art account cuz i screwed up with some posts 💀💀💀 hopefully this blog does well!! i need somewhere to post my art here anyways..

Hi! I'm Mess/Eddie!! Either name works! Again, this is my art blogヾ(≧▽≦*)o my main blog (its mostly reblogs) is @jester-borgz !! Check it out if you wanna!

Multifandom!! I enjoy many different things, and will draw what I want whenever I wish. If I have the motivation that is...

I don't do commissions! Requests will be done if I want to, but I don't do commissions right now because I am a bit busy with school and stuff. Please understand that! Maybe one day I will try them out!

Please respect my boundaries! I am a minor (17), and like everyone else, I have things that I do not like/am not comfortable with. NSFW is a big no! (Though suggestive phrases and/or jokes are alright, as long as it's not graphic!) Homophobia + Transphobia / Bigotry is not tolerated! This is a safe space!! Gore is acceptable, however, I will do my best to include warnings if I do draw/post about any of that.

I am a silly little gay and I like to draw some OC/Self Insert x Canon from time to time, not sure if this will bother anyone, but just a heads up in case some of you aren't too fond of it! I will try to tag accordingly.

While we're on that subject, I'm not amazing at tagging, but I'll do my best! Please forgive any mistakes I make!

And finally, !! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST (≠ REBLOG) WITHOUT PERMISSION !! I don't have much experience online like this, but I'd prefer it this way please! Another thing, my art can be used as icons/banners with credit, but as of now I will not allow permission for commercial use. (Not that I'm confident people will want that, you just never know nowadays...)

Anyways, that seems to be everything I can remember, so.. yea!! Thanks for stopping by! Your support is always appreciated!

#first post #small artist #not art #mess talkies

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chiro-asuta-vulpes · 2 years

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Greetings my lil, angels. FIRST of all I would like to thank everyone for all your support, likes and shares of my work also appreciating my baby girl Snowy, and my other characters. THANK YOU THANK YOU EVERYONEEEEE FOR ALL YOUR UNDYING LOVE AND SUPPORT☺️💙💙💙🌼🌼✨✨✨✨

Second, I wanna apologize if I took so long on MAKING AND FINISHING MY THANK YOU ART GIFTS, to you all sweeties,

🔔REASONS📣

ONE: There are some times delays because of me attending my college degree classes, also homework, projects, online classes etc.📱🖥💻

SECOND: Whenever I had new ideas popping on my head I immediately draw them📱🎨🖌 and I had a hard time to finish and focus on one art whenever new ideas comes to pierce thru my mind and beg me to draw it I do so📘🖋 hehehehehehe yea, AND YES I admit there are times I have tons of ideas EITHER RELATING TO MY OC OR ANY CHARACTERS, I wish to drew depending on the ideas i come up in my head but struggling to rush and note up before i forgot huhuhu yeaaa, IM SUCHHHH A MESSSSSS! Agghhhhh! 🥺😓😭

Uggghhh this is soooo embarrassing i get distracted sooooo easily😖😞😭

ANYWAYS rn I'm focusing on WORKING ANOTHER SNOWY ART ART, once I Get Snow Snow done I might probably go back to MAKING MORE THANK YOU GIFT ART ART AND ART COLLABS ART, if I say I promise to draw your character IM SERIOUS ON THAT I WILL DRAW IT, I just feel bad on my behavior of being ALWAYS DISTRACTED and I feel bad about it too....😰😢🥺😭

Vent Out....) (Don't worry I'm okay..this is just a thought...also stuffs been happening and bothering my brain a lot)

If you all angry or disappointed onto me for being distractive and not making your OCS in time well you all have the right to do so..and yeaaaa I'm not gonna argue on that if you all are...😓😓😔

Again..IM NOT A ROBOT LIKE SNOWY that helps and up all day, I'm a human..I have stuffs too and I if you all want art don't rush me be patient and maybe instead of darting me or rush me maybe a encouragement and support will do to help me motivated to draw although if not well might as well give up...

I have been having this issues for 2 years and one of the reasons Im scared to share my stuffs bc I fear JUDGY PEOPLE AND TOXIC PEOPLE, I maybe old but i have feelings too....such as Anxiety, Art Block, Trauma, Stress, Depression, Insomnia, Mental Abuse by a few IRL people here in IRL, Guilt trip, Emotional Scars, Etc.

Reason why I made Snowy as a enjoyment for me to do and make to escape this CRUEL FEELINGS and CRUEL REALITY I'm having in life, whenever I drew people's characters and my ocs I feel free....secure and safe...also put a smile on to my face.

I have been all over other medias and ended up being judged by my oc telling me they're waaayyyy off! And IM SICK OF ITTT!

I don't want that to happened, I already had a massive trauma about it

The reason why I was on tumblr because I was so tired being in another media of people judging my work, I was trying to run away from them...

Now things changed now I'm happy to be here in Tumblr... I met many people finally UNDERSTANDS, APPRECIATE, LOVE, AND ADORE my work... Even I'm not yet good enough.

I felt free and I feel I'm home in this site. I wish to stay here AS LONG AS I STILL LIVE,

I have an illness that I carry within my health IRL and I don't wanna tell because I don't wish to worry you all my little angels... 😣😞😢

BUT DONT WORRY I'm okay i have been having checkups and I been taking medications and being careful and still FIGHTING on surviving☺️💙🌼✨✨

If all your life's are stressing u all bc of being busy and school all i can say is no matter how many times u all tumble down, you all should always rise up never give up continue and always remember and strive for that dream and desires you all wish for ur future...youre all directors and maker of your own path and destinies, and no matter how cruel our world is but there is always a new beginning...and start and it's okay to cry feel hurt it's part of the challenges and trials in life...but we're all still here standing and surviving.

IM VERY proud of you all and sooo happy for everyone's achievements and goals u all did irl keep going onward...embrace your future and continue to dream strive and always stay the real you, don't ever give up, embrace your talents and gifts, and keep smiling.

THATS ALL FOR NOW YOU SWEETIES HAVE A BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL DAAAYYYY OVERRR THEREEEE! I LOVE YOUUUU ALLL AND THANKS FOR READING..📘📄📄🖋💙💙✨✨✨✨✨✨

💙 JANE

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

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NO ; MADS

HAPPY LOWMAN X READER

@arved asked: So... Would you write a story where you are Bishops younger sister and you ve met Happy, and starts having feelings for him... Your brother won't like it...

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @starrynite7114 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gifs credits to: @mayans-mc

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You leave your car parked at the Romero and Brothers entry, looking for Chucky to tell you where Bishop's bike is. Your brother texted you last night to ask you if you could have a look at it because it started to make a noisy sound somewhere in the front wheel. Some of the guys in the crew know about mechanics, but he only trusts your hands to touch his baby, so you had to drive from Mexico. The kind man with strange hands, whom you love so much, tells you that Bishop is not there but his bike is parked next to the clubhouse. Nodding, you go downstairs off of the office, to walk through the small alley on your way to find what paranoia your brother has this time.

You run the heavy metallic door with Mayans symbols, raising an eyebrow when you see some motorbikes you don't recognize at first, but you don't give it more importance than that it has. Taking out of the pocket of your shorts the copy of the key, you walk towards the green bike with the intention of ride it to the car scrapping, when you hear a hoarse voice calling for your attention.

“To the floor! Hands up!”

Five men are pointing at you with loaded guns, following the indications of an older one without hair and covered in tattoos. He throws the toothpick, that it was in his lips, walking closer. You stop the engine without any sudden movement, and your hands on your nape. You're breathing fast, leaving the motorbike at your back.

“Call Bishop”. He says. And you don't know what disturbs you more, if the lack of gesticulation on his face or the calm tone voice.

“I'm...”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch”.

Rude.

You were going to tremendously enjoy it when your charter comes back and finds you kneeling on the ground. They try to contact your brother, but seems like he's driving, 'cause there's no answer. Even so, it takes you only two minutes to hear the motorbikes coming. Taza is the first one who sees you, braking abruptly and throwing his helmet to the floor.

“The hell you' doin' man?” He shouts, till all the Mayans appears.

“Put your fuckin' guns down!” Bishop runs out of the dark van, to help you.

“She was stealing...” The unknown man tries to say, confused and lost in the situation.

“She's my fuckin' sister!” The Mayans president is pissed off, while Taza holds your hands to put you up.

“You ok, chiquita?” He asks looking you from top to bottom.

“Not sure if I'm more scared than horny, or more horny than scared”. You answer wrinkling the bridge of the nose, your crew laughs shaking their heads.

“You hurt your knees”. Bishop sounds worried, repairing on the small burns on your legs. The concrete and gravel floor was hot, but you didn't notice it 'cause you were busy trying not to die by a gunshot.

“Bish, it's ok. I would have shot without asking”. You placed your palm on his shoulder, before Tranq lifts you up in his strong arms. “It's always an adventure to come see you”.

“I'm sorre', we didn't know”.

“Yea', did you ask her?”

“Let's take care of the Mayans' warrior”. Your savior chuckles, walking upstairs to the clubhouse.

┅┅┅┅┅┅

Chibs screamed, his gaze upon the skies when he heard news of his men’s actions upon his arrival. You two know each other since your brother became president of the charter, always being a gentleman and treating you as one of his own family. But you said one hundred times that everything was fine, rolling your eyes while you were hearing him cursing in scottish. The man who pointed at you first introduced himself as Happy, and you couldn't help laughing at his name.

At least, he was fucking hot and worth it.

┅┅┅┅┅┅

Night has fallen in Santo Padre and the latin music has flooded the clubhouse and its yards. The delicious smell of Felipe's meat is in the air, mixing with the laughs and shouts of the charters having a party between brothers. And there you are, lying inside the ring with your forearms behind your head looking at the stars and a beer next to your body. Turning your head to the main group of men, you check that the Son's is staring at you like ten minutes ago. You chuckle shaking your chin, putting back your gaze to the sky.

MEANWHILE

“So, wha's she doin' here'?” Chibs asks your brother, who is drinking his beer.

“I think something is happening to my bike, and she's the only one allowed to touch it”.

“Half Mayan and mechanic... Is she single?” The vice of the Sons of Anarchy asks without any shame.

“Yes, she is. But I don't want a motorist from any charter to be her man, 'you hear me?” The Mayans president is forceful, leaning forward on his seat.

“I'm too old for the club, I'm leaving it, Chibs. It was a pleasure”. Happy is the one who talks this time, and you can hear him, of course.

You can see how the man is getting up of his seat, taking off the vest to give it to the SoA president while everybody laughs except Bishop. He walks to the makeshift bar, next to the barbecue, to obtain two beers. Now, you have to hide the fact that you weren't looking at him. The older man gets inside the ring, standing up in front of you. Raising your gaze, you lift an eyebrow.

“Can 'invite you to a beer?”

“I already have one”.

Without expecting, he kicks it away from you, but you don't move a single inch rolling your eyes.

“Wasn’t pointing a gun at me enough? I think ya've already covered your aggressiveness quota for the day”.

“And I think that love was born between us when I called ya' bitch”.

“Is that what you tell to every girl?” You ask sitting on your forearms and crossing your legs, one over the other.

“I'm not a man of words”.

“You don't have to insure it, flaco”. You sigh for a second, raising a hand to take the beer he's offering you without a gesture on his face.

“So, you're Bishop young sister, uh?” He says, having a seat in front of you. After almost one minute in completely silence, he talks again taking you by surprise, even if it wasn't uncomfortable. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight. I found him when I was fifteen. My parents abandoned him, before I was born”. He nods because of your words, looking thoughtful. You have a sip of your drink, waiting for him to say anything. But, that doesn't happens. “You have a lot of tattoos. Which one is your favorite?”

It's a cliche to ask about something like that, but you can't take your eyes off of them, because all that you can see around his arms and neck are traces drawing stories on him. You tattoo on your free time, so you're kinda passionate and he has truly pieces of art on his skin. Happy lifts up the grey shirt, showing you many more, before pointing the big and curled cobra on his chest and abdomen. You run your fingers over it, enraptured and your lips almost open so slowly that you can feel the way his abdomen contracts under your touch.

“Man... It's fuckin' amazing. I love the green path, but it is somewhat worn. I think I could fix it”. You say, trying to not sound too rude.

“Fix it?”

“Yea'! Addin' more color”.

“No, I mean. You tattoo?”

“I did most of the Mayans tattoos”. You nod then, with a proud gesture on your face, as he does after you. “I got my stuff in the car, if you want”.

“Sure, I would like to see what are you capable of”. He says calm, getting up off the ring and offering you his free hand, pushing you up on your way for a new adventure.

With a confidence that you don't know where it come from, he surrounds your shoulder with his arm, walking closer to you, but in complete silence. You can see your brother staring at you with his pursed lips against the beer he's holding. You pass them by, and if looks could kill, Happy would already be dead. Taking the key out of your pocket, you unlock your car to open the trunk.

“I got it”. He says going ahead, taking the heavy case full of different stickers on it.

Walking towards the clubhouse to get in, you stop your barefoot in the middle of it, looking for the best place.

Finally, you point the sofa on a corner, with a plug near of it, where you can put your machine.

“Shirt off”. You say, hearing how he chuckles almost in silence, obeying the order.

Now you're able to see many more tattoos around his back and arms. Good god, he can point a gun at you again, whenever he wants. Swallowing and clearing your throat, you prepare to mount the whole show. Your hands are cleaned with alcohol before covering them with the latex gloves, placing the ink cangs on the table by your side. The buzz of the needle floods the club, noticing that Happy doesn't feel anything when you start with the color over his lower abdomen.

You're focused in tattooing and cleaning the leftlover ink that bothers your view, even when you have a good point of light overhead. His skin is more tense than yours, being older and more tattooed, and that surprises you. The Son is getting you nervous, with his gaze on you, but not on the ink, making you raise an eyebrow.

“What?”

“It's the first time a woman tattoos me”. Happy says, after some seconds looking like he's trying to find the correct words.

“'Cause you're a male chauvinist?” The needle stop, staring at him for a moment.

“'Cause I never found a woman who did it”. The smile he gives you makes you tremble slightly.

You continue with your task, stopping some times to check that the ink is uniform in every inch, till it's finished. You take a case cream tube, taking off one of your gloves, pulling it with your teeth, to put some of it on the reddened skin. Happy shakes a little, making you laugh hoping it's not because of the pain he was containing to look ‘more like a man’ and don't get embarrassed.

“Shit! It's cold!” He growls.

“Genius...” You break into loud laughter, while he snorts.

You caress his skin spreading the cream over the retouched tattoo, so slowly that you see how much he's enjoying it with a soft smile on his lips, before covering it, so that the excess ink doesn't stain the shirt when he got dressed again.

“Do you like it?” You ask with curiosity, getting up to admire your art.

“'Course, but it seems like you wanna do anotha’”.

“Seems like”. Cross-armed, you purse your lips.

“A tattoo for a kiss”. Yes, you were expecting it, making you squint at him.

Taking off the other glove and almost laying on the table, you reach your bag next to the case, looking for a cigar to light between your lips. You've seen him smoking before, so you do the same with him. Another way to keep his mouth occupied. Curling your legs on the table and surrounding them with your arms, you tilt your neck gently. He has a lot of happy faces tattooed by the cobra side. At first you think it's some kind of bad joke, until you realize it.

“You were nomad. That explain the shitty face and the holy silence”. You say having a smoke, with your gaze now on his. “A face, a life”.

The Son has an arm behind his head settled on the sofa, and you start to notice that maybe he's not good with words. But you like to read. So you do. Every gesture, for minimal that this could be on his face. His eyes vibrating, trying to keep yours. The way he has to swallow the smoke of the cigar. The skin of his throat going from up to down in a fast move. He's not ill-at-ease, but seems like he would like to hide that part of his life.

They are recent. Your fingers run over them, outlining each stroke. Those tattoos couldn’t have been more than six or eight years. The black ink was first, and looks like he added the yellow one somewhat after that. But when you're about to travel the last one, right before an old demon, he grabs your wrist. His fingers closing tight around it, loosening the grip some seconds after in a ephemeral caress that dries your mouth.

“Whatever I want?” You ask in a whisper referring to the tattoo, watching how he leaves his cigar in the ashtray next to yours.

Happy nods. Taking his right hand to place it on your, the noisy needle is back. In the ring finger, without needing a pre-design, nor anything of the session before that one, you tattoo a semicolon. Maybe bigger than you thought, but at least he's gonna see it all the time. After, you put some cream on and cover it with plastic film, you admire it one last time. So he does.

Time to pay your debt.

He puts a hand around your wrist it to urge you to lie on top of him. His legs between yours and his free hand tangled in your hair. His gaze could say more than thousands words and your eyes lost in it. Your nose brushing in a soft touch, till your lips meet his in a mild kiss with some kind of desperation. And before a last look, he tilt up his head to catch them again. Your chest laying on his, with no distance between both, breathing fast. Your tongues fighting, wetting the other, taking some air by your nose while his arms surround your hips and your hands travel to Happy's neck.

Maybe, the fact that most disturbs you is that he hasn't any intentions of fucking you, at least, not tonight. And you know it by the way he has to turn your body, lying by his side on the sofa. But the kiss doesn't stop, till he decides to attack your neck. You bite your inner lip, pressing a hand on his head to pull him closer, while his teeth drags on your skin before licking and suck it. He's making his own tattoo, even if it's gonna disappear in some days. And you can't help a gasp that escapes from deep in your throat.

Somebody knocks on the door.

“Happy, we should go”. His prospect's voice sounds behind it.

The man snort against your skin, pulling himself away some inches to admire his own piece of art, before bite your lips back.

“Happy?”

“I'm old but not deaf!” He shouts, turning to the door for a second.

“Sounds like Cali is calling”. You chuckles, getting comfy between his arms to enjoy the last seconds together.

“Next time, it will be permanent”. He replies referring to the hickey on your neck.

Leaving you alone in the sofa, he gets up to dress his shirt and take his stuff to keep it in a pocket. Happy leans toward you, placing one hand on the headrest, to kiss you one last time with some dearly that overwhelms you. Then, he leaves the club, with his eyes on the tattooed finger.

It takes you a minute to get up, being somewhat recovered, walking towards the wood railing outside to watch how he's wearing the Sons of Anarchy vest. Your brother comes next to you, adopting the same position but without his gaze on you.

“Did you fuck him?”

“I tattooed him”. You answers with a smooth smile on your lips.

“I don't know which one is worst”. Bishop sighs shaking his head, before turning at you. “He was a nomad”.

“So do I”.

“Es diferente, (Y/N)”. (It's different).

“Yea', él lo hizo por dinero. Yo lo hago por placer”. (Yea', he made it for money. I do for pleasure).

“¿Cómo lo sabes?” (How do you know it?)

“Porque sus tatuajes están rellenos de amarillo”. ('Cause he got the yellow on his smileys).

Bishop bow his head with a heavily snort drowning in his mouth, before licking his inner lip. “I can't lose you”.

“You will not. Maybe he was the reason I was looking for, to settle”.

“A man that pointed you with a loaded gun and called you ‘bitch’”?

“A man you can trust in. Don't you?”

You got it. You've caught him.

Your eyes flies to Happy, turning around to look at you with his shitty face, before getting inside the van that his prospect drives.

#sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman imagine #happy lowman

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darley1101 · 6 years

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Death & Decorum Part 1: She Wants Revenge

Welcome to Death and Decorum, a 6 part miniseries that I will be posting throughout the month of October. As the title suggests it is not a love story, but one of revenge. I have done some interesting research over the last day or so and will advise you that some of the deaths depicted in this story are rather interesting and based off actual deaths that occurred in Regency England. I am very well aware that this is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, which is why I will only be tagging people who requested to be tagged by liking, reblogging, or commenting on this story's coming soon post. If you would like to be added to the tag, or even taken off, let me know. Full credit for this idea goes to @choiceslife

Warning/Triggers: Vengeful killings, mention of poison, drowning, broken neck

Death and Decorum

Part One: She Wants Revenge

Dusk was starting to fall as an unmarked carriage rolled to a stop just outside a small, out of the way apothecary. “You know what to do,” the countess ordered in a cold, distant voice. The dark haired girl sitting across from her gave a curt nod, her brown eyes shamefully studying the floor. “This is for the goods,” she pressed a coin in the girl's hand. “And this,” she jingled a small, nondescript pouch, “is for you. Twelve pieces of silver. Rather fitting don't you think?” She let out a low, emotionless chuckle when the girl's cheeks blossomed with color.

“I'm no Judas,” the girl whispered, greedily snatching the purse from the countess' fingers. “The only reason I'm doing this is my family-”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Now, do be a dear and fetch me what I've asked.” Eyes the color of a winter sky right before a storm bore into the girl, reminding her that the countess was not one to be trifled with. “Don't dally. I still need to dress for dinner.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The girl gathered the dark skirt of her uniform and reluctantly climbed from the carriage. The Countess watched, a cold smile stretching across her berry stained lips, as the girl entered the shoppe. It hadn't taken much to turn the girl. Word of an ailing father and the promise of silver had been all it took. Judas. Briar. Both had sold their loyalty for twelve pieces of silver and both would have innocent blood on their hands.

It rained, which was only fitting since it matched the raw, coldness building inside Rebecca Young. The sharp, skin piercing drizzle that stabbed at the world, painting it a melancholy gray, also provided the perfect cover for the tears she was incapable of producing. It was a pity, really. She wanted so desperately to feel something other than the icy hatred that was starting to course through her veins. She wanted to be the sort of daughter that dropped to her knees beside the yawning hole where her father's coffin was being lowered, screaming against the injustice of his death. To give into such urges wouldn't be ladylike, so like the good little puppet she'd become she stood quietly between the caterwauling form of her dear, dear step-mother and the sniffling mouse who clung to the arm of the countess' stoic faced son. 'The evil trifecta,' Rebecca thought bitterly. The murderous widow putting on a marvelous show of grief, the tittering twit who was too busy gathering juicy tidbits to gossip about with her betters to realize she was naught but a pawn in game she couldn't possibly win, or the mindless drone who willingly did his mother's bidding no matter how heinous the request. If it were one of those Gothic novels that were so popular, there would be a tragic heroine desperately trying to escape their nefarious clutches. Perhaps that was Rebecca's role. The grieving bastard child, too concerned with whether or not she would be tossed on the streets to properly grief. 'Never,' she curled her lips in disdain, 'I will never accept that role.'

Squaring her slender shoulders, Rebecca raised her chin a notch, her thick sooty lashes lowering over her light brown eyes while she forced herself to focus on the words coming out of the vicars mouth rather than comparing her life to the plot of tragic tale. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” The words struck a familiar chord, one buried deep beneath the gentile facade she'd carefully cultivated to please a grandmother whose love only extended as far as Rebecca's ability to procure a suitable match. For the last month she had stumbled through her own valley of death, letting the nobility slaughter any trace of the village girl that had arrived at Edgewater with a naive excitement shining in her eyes. There had been no comfort, no rod or staff to protect her, while she struggled to win the approval of a father whose life had been stolen by his inconsolable widow. Turning her head slightly, several strands of dark hair sticking to her cheek, Rebecca pierced her step-mother with a venomous look. 'From here on out I shall fear no evil,' she silently hissed, 'and you shall cower before me as I will become Edgewater's very own shadow of death. Vengeance shall have a name and that name shall be Rebecca.'

.“...and said, naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked I shall return thither; the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away...”

Rebecca pursed her lips into a tight, grayish blue tinged pucker to keep from yelling. 'Liar! Filthy, filthy liar!' The Lord had given Father life, had blessed Rebecca with his affections for three glorious weeks, but the Almighty surely hadn't taken him away. His life had been stolen, wrung from his body with a poison served up by a 'loving' wife. Rebecca would give the Countess her due; she'd chosen carefully, selecting a poison that mimicked the dreaded yellow fever. 'And now she plays the part of grieving widow', Rebecca internally sneered. 'She's allowed her desperation to turn her into a novel cliché, a desperate villianess willing to sacrifice the innocent in her quest to hold on to something that was never meant to be hers.' The greatest tragedy, was Rebecca would have cared for her like a mother had the viper but shown her an ounce of affection. Instead, the countess had let her own diabolical nature twist even the smallest kindness into a sinister ploy.

“We know not why these tragedies occur.”

The lie slid easily off the tongue of the vicar. If not for the man's love of his own voice, the burial would have already concluded, father planted in the ground. Instead, the vicar continued to spoon feed deceitful words of comfort that allowed the countess to continue her theatrical display, while Rebecca could practically feel the black crepe dress her grandmother insisted she wear starting to melt. The light weight silk wasn't meant for such dampness, nor were the jet embellished slippers she wore beneath it. Not that the countess cared. She had ignored propriety by wearing a rich velvet gown designed to show case her bosom, which heaved mightily with each over exaggerated sob, and hugged her other physical assets. It was humiliating. Bad enough she was going to get away with murdering father but had she not class? Could she not at least put on a good performance and appropriately dress the part? Rebecca's fingers twisted in the delicate lawn handkerchief her grandmother had insisted she openly carry. Appearances, even in death, must be upheld. 'Unless you're the countess, then you ignore propriety in favor of dressing like some Drury lane doxy. It's alright of course, she's a grieving widow.'

“Can you believe her, that dress is absolutely scandalous,” someone behind them whispered. “I'm surprised the Dowager allowed her out in such a dress.”

“It's bait for the next one, no doubt,” another whispered. “I heard the Earl left everything to his bastard.”

Sucking in her cheeks, Rebecca bit down on the delicate flesh. The sharp pain and the coppery taste of blood were a perfect distraction from the drawing room gossip that was starting to seep into the memorial. Turning on them, demanding that they show some respect, would shift the focus off her step mother and onto herself. Aside from the one painfully true smear about her birth, the gossip was centered on the countess and Rebecca would like to keep it that way.

“Worry about her dress all you like, my concerns lie in whether or not she's contagious. If what I've heard is true, she spent every moment in his sick room. Mark my words, we'll be burying her next.”

The truth burned on Rebecca's tongue, begging to be released. She held it in, knowing her words would fall on deaf ears. With the exception of her grandmother, the rest of the world believed that her father truly had somehow contracted and succumbed to the yellow fever. And while it was doubtful that the countess had spent more than a passing moment by her ailing husband's side, that wasn't what society believed. Poor, devoted countess. Twas a pity that poison wasn't contagious. 'It could be,' a voice whispered in her ear. 'No one would question it. They're already suspecting it. Why not give them what they want?'

Tag List (To be added or removed simply comment, reblog, or message) @tmarie82 @zackzilberg @damienazariostan @leelee10898 @clarissafics @hopefulmoonobject @brightpinkpeppercorn @mrsernestsinclaire @dancetothestoriesinyoursoul @classychoicesworld @writtenbycandy @too-poor-to-buy-keys @ehkw1989 @claramillstakenalready @never-ending-choices @bobasheebaby @choiceslife @nekkidmolerat @blackcatkita @katurrade @indiacater @boneandfur @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @jadedpixiescribbles @llamasgrl @hellospunkiebrewster @tornbetween2loves (sorry for the ones whose tags are not working.)

#choices desire and decorum #desire and decorum mc #darley1101 writes

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