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#and you're like wow!! that's odd! but.... so beautiful
gregoftom · 1 year
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oh they fr had bitchnasty sex after this
#tomgreg#I CANT BREATHE HAHAHAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa oh wow. ohhhhhhh wow. oh wow. hahahahahaaaaaaaaaa wow.#GREG REALLY SAID: YOU WANNA FUCK ME SO BAD IT MAKES YOU LOOK STUPID.#the way tom goes OHHHhhhh at greg getting bold is Exactly the same tone me and my gf use with each other. just. you know. for reference.#BUT GREG'S LITTLE HEAD GESTURE BEFORE HE SAID PROVE IT LIKE HE REALLY MEANS IT?????? I GOTTA GO#also i'm sorry but they both read so fucking gay to me like so gay. esp greg in this moment. his line for comfry is so like.#it's so. like you just wouldn't do that. i think. if you were straight. I DONT KNOW I JUST FEEL A KINDRED SPIRIT IN HIM I GUESS.#''she seems like a nice.... person'' GIRL WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT AND THE PAUSE BEFORE PERSON I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE.#i  know what you both are.#like. fuck what else can i say about this scene. they're insane i guess????#oh btw i know for a fact tom thinks greg is the most beautiful weird ass creature he's ever seen#like you know a sea creature that's kinda weird that you'd find at the bottom of the ocean that you see in an aquarium#and you're like wow!! that's odd! but.... so beautiful#like that's greg to tom. yet he's like SHES SO PRETTY AND YOU'RE SO GROSS HAHAHA#like. i see what you're doing you fucking avocado you're like oh don't bother going after her bc you're sweet and she might actually say yes#she might like you for what i like you for and y'all might hook up and i can't be having that!!!#like he's so transparent lmfao.#how do i know tom thinks greg is beautiful?? well who else do you say would be fit to take over from your beautiful wife if she died#ALSO tom is just surprised that greg bit back he's not even like. angry? idk i feel like if anyone else said that they'd be#family guy on the floor pose#about shiv being out of his league i mean#HE EVEN LOOKED AT GREGS MOUTH WHEN HE DID THAT LMFAOOO HE THOUGHT THAT WAS HOT#GOD I HATE HIM HAHAaaaaaaahh#AND AFTER GREG SAYS PROVE IT IT JUST CUTS OFF?!??! DID YALL GO FUCK IN THE BATHROOM IM MDDDWDWKDW#ALSO IF YOU LOOK AT PREV POST/WHAT HAPPENED PREVIOUSLY. THEY TOUCHED EACH OTHER LIGHTLY DIDNT EVEN HUG.#and as i said it felt sort of like ''i don't wanna spoil your outfit we can do that later anyway when we fuck raw''#then you get this. and the cut off. so like. come on what the fuck am i supposed to think. just ignore it??#ALSO sorry. sorry. BUT TOMS FACE DURING IT ALL HES LIKE 20 YEARS YOUNGER!!!!!!! AAARRAHgh#ALSO!!!! sorry. sorry. sorry. but why are the colours the bisexual flag in the bg. why. for what reason.#tom keeps looking at gregs mouth all throughout talking about how he fucks. so fuck him. prove it pussy.
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yanderemommabean · 5 months
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Oh, oh, oh! Yandere virus, but it one day coming into school, the girls who normally bully you are acting strange. When you see them in the hallway, you are expected to be laughed at or shoves to the ground. However, you didn't expect to be shoved against the wall as they stare you down with a dangerous and lustful glint in their eye, telling you about all the plans they have in store for you. They force you to wear matching clothes and make sure everyone knows who you belong to and not to even try anything. Maybe you're forced to live in the house. Bonus if the other hold you down as the ring leader eats you out, as the others tell you how cute you are uwu
“Ah ah ah. You aren’t going anywhere” A voice chirps in your ear. You wince, sighing as the three surround you once again as class is dismissed and everyone heads to the dorms for the evening. Honestly, if you were perhaps a bit stronger, a bit less self conscious, you might spit in their faces and make a run for it. Sadly, you aren’t some badass (and admittedly, one dimensional) character and are frozen in place as they wait for the others to leave. 
They don't intervene. They know better. These young women have power, wealth, and beauty in their arsenal, and aren't afraid to use it to get what they want, and to silence anyone who complains. Phoebe, Sadie, and Naomi, all from powerful families who more or less run this college and the town. You don't doubt they paid the administrators and dean to get into this place, while you had to work hard and prove yourself. 
None of that matters at the moment. Currently, Phoebe was twirling her fingers in your hair like you two were close friends or even dating, smiling almost wickedly at you as her eyes, usually hazel, now with an odd pink ring, stare at you like you were some prey about to be eaten and devoured. Usually they just shove you around and make fun of your clothes, but today…Something's off. Very very off. 
“Isn’t she so cute you guys?” She says, sickly sweet, you want to say mocking but no, it's like there’s something more flirtatious with it. “Oh definitely, I just want to sink my teeth in her, you know? Make her whimper” Naomi adds on, hand to her cheek as she stares at you like one would a puppy being precious. Oh god hearing that made you think they were about to hurt you or humiliate you in some way. 
Sadie just sighs, not in your direction, looking over her shoulder to make sure the halls were clear, and once they were truly empty of everyone else, she made sure the grip on your wrists were tighter. “Listen up. We have some new rules set in place, and you, adorably obedient as you are, are going to follow them”. Oh wow. The audacity. Then again you never really put up a fight so, are they really wrong? What other choice did you have anyway? If they wanted to, they could make your family kicked out of town and their jobs nonexistent. It’s best to just grit your teeth as best you can. 
While you tried to listen, Phoebe made sure she got closer, her hand on you as well, but more exploring, sliding up and down your sleeve and trying to dip her fingers into the hem to feel your wrist, dragging them up and down softly as Sadie began to speak again. “You’re ours. Simple as that. No more avoiding the lobby when we’re there, no more trying to get little study dates away from the school library, no more trying to hide from us”. “I'm sorry what-” “Ah ah, she’s not finished cutie” Naomi says with a gentle touch slowly sliding to your waist, her cold fingertips acting like they wanted to slide under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin, her brown eyes also having that odd pink ring in her iris. “Go on Sadie, she’ll be good and listen. She always is” 
You felt your cheeks grow impossibly hot, words failing you as all three of these girls began to more or less feel you up and tell you that…That you were theirs? Whatever that could mean? Sadie just sighs, more playful this time as she cups your cheek and makes you look at her, the same weird coloration in her eyes. “You’re ours. No more private study dates, no more drabby clothes, no more avoiding food when we’re in the commons or cafeteria, just a lot more rules and a lot more dress code for you. Tsk, I can’t tell if I want you in a skirt, or if I'd stab any bastard who’d look at you when you wear one. Maybe some cute pants? Ugh they’d still lay their eyes on you either way, makes me want to just call mom and have the banks foreclose their houses”. 
“Please Don’t-” “Ah ah, don’t even try it. You’re ours, if we want to punish people for looking at our puppy, we will” Phoebe comments, her fingers moving to hold your hand and give the top of it a gentle kiss. “Speaking of puppy” Naomi mentions, nodding her head towards the others, and before you can blink you’re turned over, face to the wall. You hear Sadie murmur something as she rummages through her bag for a moment, and you feel her hands slide around your throat before something clicks behind your head, and your eyes widen in horror.
“There we go! I made sure it wouldn’t be too tight, the guy who made it for me was such an artist about it, I love it! If he would’ve said no, you know I’d have his business ruined” She mentions casually, getting a few soft giggles in agreement. 
“Here sweetie! Have a look at how cute you are when you show that you belong to us” Naomi says, handing you her phone as a mirror. You feel weak and shaky as your fingers come up to touch the bright pastel pink leather, a metal heart in the center pressing against your throat. You reach around to feel the back and feel a harsh shock to your fingers, making you yelp. 
“Oh, sweetheart, don't try and take it off! It was so expensive but I got a cute one to work as a shock collar. Shower safe but anytime you take one, one or all of us will be with you, so you won't have to worry about taking it off yourself. We’ll talk more about the rules later in our dorm”. You shiver, unable to think of how to talk. What in the fuck could you even say? You just had a designer shock collar put on you by your bullies! Who are now acting like you were their chew toy or pet no less. “O-our dorm?”.
Phoebe nods, gently stroking your hair “Yeah, duh! How else will we keep a better eye on you? Cameras are fine and all but I prefer to make sure you’re warm with one of us sharing a bed with you. Plus, it’s easier to kiss you good morning faster”. “K-Kiss?!” You almost shriek, only for Naomi to softly hush you with a finger to your lips. “Now now, don’t get loud! We don’t need that just yet”. She pouts, hearing her phone going off and checking the time. “Well, we have to split for now, I have a dinner with mom and dad. You two take her to the dorm and tell me how she acts! Don't do anything more pretty please? We said we’d share her”. 
You don't get much out before Naomi heads off, Phoebe and Sadie gripping your arms a bit too firmly to lead you, talking back and forth like you weren’t making a practical death march down to their dorm room. 
Oh God what’s going to happen once that door is shut?
-Mommabean (Hiya! Sorry for lack of smut but I am proud I wrote this much at least lol. If you beans want i can do a part two! Wanted to try and flesh this out before anything too intense ya know? Anyway I hope you like! Lemme know if you do!)
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anantaru · 7 days
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ ACE OF SPADES — PART TWO
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part one. | rich boy aven masterlist.
synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ so far, your date with rich boy aventurine goes really well, and after going outside to take a fresh breath of air, you two cannot keep your hands off each other anymore. // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ wc. 1.8k ♡
cw. semi public (you're outside), heavy make out session, tit play & tit sucking, reader wears a dress <3 rich boy au, fem! reader ♡
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a razor-edged cold hovers on your face and crawls underneath your dress, taking over your skin as dew does to drooping leaves.
you snug yourself into the jacket rich boy aventurine has draped around your shoulders as your nostrils pick up his signatory cologne— a balmy orchestra of lavish flowers greet you, well balanced with a manly musk that made your heart leap.
aventurine was irresistible— truly, he held an alluring, captivating aura that went way beyond his exterior.
in simple terms, beauty clung to his face and belonged to him, to his cheekbones and jaw, or inside the attractive glow smoldering in his eyes.
the frigid wind beats upon your cold flesh as aventurine grabs on to the collar of his coat to drape it around your tighter, the fleeting trace of his skin brushing along your own was tempting out a mellowness from deep within your bones, not ceasing until it conquered your entire form.
he smiles at you, eyes vivid and wide, "you okay?" and slowly, step by step, aventurine feels down from your shoulders to your arms before taking your icy hands into his warm palms.
a rich hunger captivated him, the strong need to explore more of you was devouring every fragment of life and energy that kept the lust inside of him restrained.
alas he continues, gingerly pulling your hands towards his mouth, "here, let me help," before watching you through his thick lashes.
he smirks, taking a long, deep breath and closing his eyes before exhaling through his lips softly, a warm smoke of air ascending along your knuckles.
it felt gentle on your freezing fingers as he ends it with a keen rub of his thumbs stroking over your cold knuckles.
a warm prickle manifests itself on your cheeks as he repeats it, and while he does it, you had the chance to admire his beauty all the more.
by the fourth time of a comforting breeze tickling your hands, your eyes stung at the focus on his face as he suddenly pulls you closer to his chest.
aventurine knew how to make you melt inside a chilly climate— and alas, he glares at you contently, his stomach twisting in agony as he couldn't help but wonder how your lips would taste like.
the idea of going in for a kiss was fixed into his mind and refused to leave— aventurine believes the date had been going well so far? to take it a step further would be okay, wouldn't it?
you didn't have to be a genius to figure out his musing— his red cheeks and dilated pupils told it all.
did you happen to make aventurine flustered? oh, such wasn't an easy deed to accomplish.
ah well, should he? should he not? that was the question.
not to mention that he was a lucky man, and if the gambler were to take this intriguing gamble, what were the odds of actually losing it in the end?
"did you make up your mind?" you murmur softly, your breath clinging on his lips as you narrow your brows, watching how the wheels in his mind were working restlessly.
"hah, you got me figured out, haven't you?"
"—but you see," aventurine whispers as he continues his sentence, placing his palms from your hands to your cheeks, "before taking a gamble, one has to calculate possible wins," a palm strokes over your jaw as he heaves out a low exhale.
"—and possible losses,"
his thumb taps at your bottom lip, focusing intently on their shape and quizzing your every reaction.
without hesitation he leans in, softening your tense muscles and limbs before pressing his lips on you. aventurine was certain it had an effect on you, but wow, how sexy it was that you made it so easy for him to kiss you— how you didn't fear calling him out.
you hold your breath as his tongue slides inside, the both of you moaning longingly against each other. his lips curl in satisfaction as saliva frames the corners of your lips.
the ache of wanting him to touch every sweet square of you sat heavy in your stomach as your tongue danced around his, lips clashing and hands melting into your bodies.
aventurine was an awfully good kisser— not to mention that he was very much aware of that. the coarse laps of his tongue tracing against yours were almost too perfect, too delicious that you felt your own face burning.
only the best for you, aventurine thinks, in fact, this date has been planned out just for you, under the guise of being a simple evening at the casino to get to know each other— when in reality, he made sure everything was as needed.
starting from your most liked music, to the colors you favored the most which were all represented in various decorations all over the casino— finished with handpicked beverages all on display.
holding a secret of precise planning and dedication.
unquestionably had he worked his mind to bits and pieces in order to have the most perfect first date imaginable.
for what felt like hours passing and at the same time, no time going by, his kisses were rough and searing as his palms began to explore your body, making it the most comfortable for you to rest your own against his chest.
his tongue was craving you, keen to taste your hypnotic lips or the specific flavor of your lipgloss.
he couldn't decide on it— was it strawberry or cherry flavored? in fact, it held an artificial taste, although after trapping your bottom lip between his mouth to nibble on the skin, he can finally taste it.
yes, aventurine was sure of it now, it was strawberry and he fucking loved it.
it feels so good when he touches you, and your entire body was hot and searing with a vigorous urgency manifesting in your precious whines.
embraced by his tenderness, aventurine pulls you closer to him.
he slides one palm up to your chest, testing the waters and seeing how far you'd be comfortable for him to go.
the gambler thought he was being patient, in fact, he still considers himself such— he wouldn't want to actually take this further and fuck you on the first date, which was okay, because no matter how good your chemistry has been this night, he still considered himself a gentleman.
aventurine slowly pulls himself from your mouth, the gloss on his lips making his features light up as he kisses along your cheek, then proceeds to lick over your jaw all the while his hands were toying with the straps of your dress.
"is this okay?" he mumbles out, tenderly nipping at your neck before trapping a bit of the flesh between his teeth, the sharp trail grazing above your boiling veins and making you squirm.
you cough slightly and nod, your eyes lidded as you watch him through an expectant look on your face, "yeah, please keep going,"
for balance, you slide your hand into his tousled hair before scratching over his scalp softly.
you cannot shake the excitement from yourself but the sheer imagination of him touching you underneath your pretty dress made something in your brain click and fold, click and fold.
and among your fight against your knees fearing to give up on you, aventurine skillfully slips two fingers into the strap of your dress before sliding it down just a bit— not too much, well yes, you were still outside but concealed behind a secure spot, yet he only needed your breasts to pop out just enough, so he could take them in his mouth.
aventurine doesn't know if the sight of your erected nipples sticking through the thin fabric of your dress was more maddening or actually seeing them bare and naked for the first time.
you will truly be the death of him.
fuck, you're so beautiful, your skin looks so soft and kissable and perfect that he cannot wait to devour you whole.
his jaw clenches as he gulps out, attentively moving his lips towards one breast while settling his palm on the other to roughly squeeze the mound.
you keep your balance by lightly tugging at his blonde hair and holding at his shoulders as your back arches into him, your eyebrows pulled together.
your pussy flutters around nothing as pleasure shoots through your veins the moment he takes your tit inside his mouth.
aventurine laps a heavy lick across it and moans into your spongy flesh before observing you through under his lashes, "you're sensitive here," he drawls and clicks his tongue, slightly pulling away to fling the tip of his muscle up and down, kitty licking your nipple.
you whine at his words as your noises break into a thousand pieces,  lolling your head back as your blood raced in anticipation, relentlessly rubbing your thighs together for any sort of friction, really.
aventurine loves to hear you, so he knows he was doing a good job in pleasuring you well.
perhaps one day, you could tell him how fucking nicely his tongue felt covering your tits while he messily slurps on your breasts with saliva dewed on his chin— or if your poor, little cunt was waiting to be filled too?
he can tell you're trying to keep your voice down due to the fact that you were outside— although your whispers told another story, the gasp of a shaky and desperate fuck, f-fuck told him everything he needed to know.
in comparison, aventurine couldn't care less if people were hearing you both, "you scared someone will see us?"
he grins, his tongue lapping up the saliva on his lips, "watch how i'm doing this," as he moves to your other tit, squeezing the flesh together to properly take it in his mouth and suck.
he repeats it; squeezing, licking across your nipple, sucking and drawing out everything he could until your mounds were so sore and sensitive, pulsing and throbbing at the loss of him.
aventurine hums before popping your tit from his mouth, placing his pointer finger over the stinging nipple and stroking it, "can only imagine how much they wish to be in my spot right now," he winks cheekily at you, his dick throbbing at your embarrassed face that was more hot and delirious than actually embarrassed.
in a tangle of making you endure the heaviness of his palms and lips all over you, your eyes slide shut as he rolls the pads of his fingers right there, oh fuck, there.
"be quiet for me, okay?" the overstimulation on your chest was too much, almost painful as you whine, nodding and puffing out a little okay before you feel the rumble of aventurine's groan press into your skin, "good girl, that's all i need you to do."
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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writingoddess1125 · 7 months
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Luffy Finally realizes he Loves you!
Pure teeth rotting fluff
Buy me a Ko-Fi
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• Was sitting with his crew and talking all about thinks in their past that they enjoyed and brings you up.
• "Oh yeah! Then my best friend (Y/N)! They are back at the village I grew up in and they always supported me! Even gave me the food and boat I uses to leave to start this amazing adventure!"
• He talks about your cooking, how you'd always pack him a lunch. How you smile so much and make sure he was okay, especially when him and his grandfather argued.
• Sanji and the rest of the crew raise an eyebrow at hearing Luffy babble on and on about you
• "Wow, They sound amazing. Gotta meet then one day" Sanji jokes, taking another drag of his cigarette. "They sound like a real beauty"
• Luffy couldn't help but get a very odd feeling st hearing Sanji call then a beauty. Like he got punched but on the inside this time-
• "Yeah, They are pretty I guess. But I like how nice they are, They and Shanks showed me what good people are truly like!"
• Nami giggled at this. She knew attraction like the back of her hand and the way Luffy described you, this was the closest she had ever heard of him even understanding attraction to anyone.
"Luffy, It sounds like you're in love with them?" Nami teased.
• "What! No no they are just.. Wonderful-" He pauses, Thinking over Nami's words. He had always cared about you- a lot! And always having a picture of you being by his side when he became pirate king anyway. You were just always ment to be there, and if it hadn't been for you taking care of your mother he was sure you would have come Sailing with him.
• Usopp laughing also at this as he could practically see the gears starting to turn in his head. "This is golden!" He hollered. Earning Nami smacking the back of his head. "....Am I in love with (Y/N)?..." Luffy pondered- Zoro who had been 'sleeping' against the wall but heard the whole conversation opened a single eye
• "From the sounds of it.. Yes-" Zoro deadpanned, Deciding to return to his nap. Luffy face turning a red color before he gave a loud laugh. Practically bouncing in his seat "If that's the case! Set sail for Foodha Village! I gotta go get (Y/N)!"
• You would be working at your mother's little supply shop, Assisting in restocking some important supplies when you hear a ruckus outside as everyone starts shouting in glee. Stepping out you see a massive ship either a rams head on the front-
• Marveking at it for only a moment before hearing a loud voice that was all to familiar "(YYYY/NNNNN)!!!!"
• Looking to see Luffy, brightly smiling on the ship with a small crew next to him. You couldn't help but smile widely at seeing your childhood friend and crush. Waving at him proudly
• "(Y/N)!! I gotta tell you something!!" Luffy yelled, Not even waiting for the ship to fully dock before he stretched his way to the docks and ran towards you. Much to your horror as he could have fallen into the water
• "L-Luffy you should have waited to do-" However where cut off as Luffy lofted you up with ease and laughed proudly
• "IM IN LOVE WITH YOU (Y/N)!! BECOME A PART OF MY CREW!!"
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p0ckykiss · 3 months
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the sound of flowers blooming - lee heeseung
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summary -> you are shooting a couple photoshoot with your co-star lee heeseung. but what happens when you're told to look into each other’s eyes, and you realize that you really wanted to kiss him, and not just pretend?
warnings -> female reader x heeseung, alternate universe - actors, feelings realization, first kiss, fluff
"come quick, y/n. we’re already late because of this meeting." 
minji, your manager, grabbed your shoulders and pushed you out the door and into the underground parking lot.
"you’re telling me to hurry just because you're impatient to see your boyfriend,” you groaned, dragging your feet towards the van parked in between two smaller cars. 
“i'm sure you're impatient too, your beloved heeseung is waiting there too,” minji playfully tapped your back, “he must be looking so pretty all dolled up for your photoshoot.”
you rolled your eyes, although some odd feeling lodged itself at the pit of your stomach when you thought about having to shoot a couple photoshoot with your co-star. you heard minji click on the car keys, and watched as she came to slide the door open for you. 
"beloved?" you scoffed, "i hate him." 
"hate?" minji repeated as she sat down in the driver seat and started the car, glancing in the rear view mirror to look at you with a raised eyebrow. "then why does your face light up everytime you see him? and why do you smile at him like he hung the stars one by one in the sky?” 
"that’s acting! if you film a romance drama with someone of course you have to look at them as if you’re in love with them in front of the cameras!” you replied in one breath. “i’m an actor, acting is what I do… what kind of bullshit are you spitting?” 
“hey, watch your mouth! i’m still your manager! i regret ever telling you to talk to me as if i was your friend, you've gotten way too comfortable.” 
in the span of maybe 10 seconds, you found yourself sitting down in a chair, with hair and makeup stylists preparing you in a hurry.
"done. not surprising for our beautiful y/n, we don’t need much to make you look pretty,” said the hair stylist while looking at your reflection in the mirror. 
you shyly bowed your head and thanked her, which earned you a fond smile and a gentle pat on the head -while making sure not to mess up your hair, of course. as soon as she stepped away, you turned around in your chair to see if heeseung was here, but he was nowhere to be found. where the hell was he?
“y/n, come this way please.” 
a staff member clapped their hands together to get your attention and led you to the photoshoot set on the opposite side of the floor. 
as soon as you walked in, you were left speechless. in such a beautiful space, was an even more beautiful man waiting for you. like a flower among the flowers surrounding him, there heeseung was. his wavy blonde hair suited him perfectly, framing his delicate features with gold highlighting his cheeks and making him shine in a way that could rival the sun. when your eyes met, a smile bloomed on heeseung's face. wow, so beautiful- wait, get it together y/n.
“y/n, you came?”
his voice was also so sweet… you hated it. 
“yes, i’m here.” 
“they styled your hair really prettily,” he gently touched a strand of hair dropping on the side of your forehead, spreading goosebumps all over your exposed arms. his touch was so soft… you hated it. “it looks good on you.” heeseung smiled. that smile was about to ruin you. 
“one last pose. y/n, please come a little bit closer. look into heeseung's eyes, as if you were about to kiss.”
your eyes opened wide in surprise upon hearing that, and you stopped in your motion. it was nothing new for you to be so close, especially when filming a romantic comedy, but somehow it felt different today. heeseung's lips formed that smirk he often had, the same smirk that made your heart flutter, and he touched your cheek to tilt his head so your eyes would meet. time stopped, as if it was only the two of you in the room. at that moment, you heard it, the sound of flowers blooming.
“okay, cut!” the photographer clapped. “everyone, you did well. thank you.”
you brushed heeseung's hand off and shot up. you hurriedly bowed and greeted the staff before running to the waiting room. 
it was hot. too hot. as soon as you bolted in, you grabbed a water bottle and chugged it before taking a deep breath. 
why… why the hell did you feel like you were suffocating whenever heeseung came close? you sat down with your head in your hands, pressing your cold palms on your eyelids.. you couldn't figure out what you were feeling. was it truly hatred?
you hated how heeseung's smile made your heart race. you also hated that heeseung had such pretty lips. you also hated how much you wanted to kiss heeseung. you wanted to believe that you truly hated him because if you hated heeseung, it would make everything so much easier. 
“what are you doing? why did you run away?” 
that damned voice. when you heard it, you weren’t sure you could hold yourself back any longer. 
you replied with your head still in your hands, not courageous enough to look into his eyes. “it was hot. i wanted to get changed quickly.” 
heeseung brought a warm hand to your shoulder. it felt like the contact was burning your skin through the layer of fabric separating you. “you’re still wearing the same shirt, though? do you want me to help you with that?” 
frustration rose within you. you pushed his hand away and stood up, looking at him with a dark gaze, “please, leave.” 
"but i don’t want to." heeseung tilted his head, showing that insufferable smirk once again. 
"heeseung, please leave." you pleaded, your voice sounding much weaker than you wanted it to.  
heeseung took one step closer, and your heart began to race against you will like it always does. it's like you're not master of your own body anymore.
"i said i didn’t want to. tell me. what’s going on?" 
you passed a hand through your hair, gripping a fistful of it and sighed. “i'm saying this because i don’t know what i’m capable of doing right now. so. please. leave.” 
a look of surprise briefly ghosted on his face before taking another step closer. it was getting dangerous. he was way too close, causing you to forget how to breathe again. 
“y/n… no way…,” his smile widened, “don’t tell me you really want to kiss me?” 
you couldn’t hold his intense gaze and looked down at the ground where nothing could draw you in and trap you. “can you please just leave me alone?” you mumbled, although you weren't sure it was what you wanted anymore. 
heeseung brought a hand to your chin and tilted your head up so you would look him in the eyes, knocking the air out of your lungs. “no. i don’t want to leave. i told you, i don’t want to. do whatever you want. i was waiting for you to.” 
your brain short-circuited at those last words. you couldn’t speak another word. was this real? was this a dream? did heeseung really say that? was he acting again? 
“will you just keep staring at me like that? or will you stop holding back and actually do what you've been craving since we first met?” heeseung asked. 
“ugh, will you shut up, lee heeseung?” 
you grabbed heeseung's shirt and pulled him in until your lips met before he could utter another word. finally, you really kissed him. it was even better than when filming the drama, because you didn't need to think about when to stop, when to close your eyes, or how to make it look good for the camera. without a care in the world, you kissed him because you wanted to. 
as heeseung's hand made it's way to your waist, you heard it once again… the sound of flowers blooming. 
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aestherin · 1 year
Text
privacy
34: one mistake
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When did it all start?
Ah, it was when he first heard your singing voice during eleventh grade.
It was the during the time of the day when most students would flock to the cafeteria, rushing to eat their fill after half a day's worth of academic torture. Even before then, he already disliked crowded and hectic places. And so, he went the opposite direction of everyone.
Turns out he wasn't the only one with that idea.
The sweet and enchanting voice of a nightingale was what welcomed him the moment he arrived at the school's courtyard. Not rushing to eat lunch just to hear this was worth it, he concluded.
He didn't even know your name at the time, for you two were not in the same class. And when you turned around — good lord.
Your face was beautiful, but it wasn't familiar at all. It was odd, how this was the first time he saw you. He thought for sure that with an appearance like that, if he had ever met you prior, he wouldn't be able to forget you.
Was the school really that big for you two to miss each other every single time?
"Oh. A person. Uhm, hi?"
Fuck. Even your speaking voice was attractive.
Kunikuzushi was damned.
And he has been, for many years. Even up until now.
The present him looked up at nowhere, quietly laughing at himself.
How pathetic.
'You've liked her since you were still students, and you still haven't got the guts to even confess.'
'You're both famous people now, hundreds of thousands of people — maybe even millions — wanting the two of you... yet you're still stuck simply being her friend.'
Boy best friend, he argued with himself. But Scaramouche himself also did not know if that was better or worse.
"I have arrived," he heard a smooth voice. Kunikuzushi instictively frowned. This? This was the voice of the man you fell for?
He almost rolled his eyes. He could do better than this guy in front of him. He bets Ayato couldn't even sing.
"Sit."
Ayato looked around the area but found no chairs. "Where?" All he could see was cemented grounds, ramps, and curves. Why did they have to meet at a deserted skateboarding area anyway?
Scaramouche smirked. "Ah, sorry. I forgot you're a rich boy. We can't have you sitting on the dirty floor now, could we?"
It was as if a tick mark appeared on the taller man's head. Feigning a smile, he breathed, "Did you ask to meet me just to insult me, bastard?"
"Wow. Was it that obvious?"
"No, not really."
"I'm just getting back at you."
"Pardon? I don't even know you, aside from you being a celebrity. This is the first time we've met and suddenly you say you're getting back at me?"
"Shut the fuck up. You insulted me first."
"Hah?"
"You getting together with [Name] so easily was the biggest insult I've ever received in my entire existence."
Oh.
Now, Ayato was no idiot. Of course, he immediately realized the underlying message of Scaramouche's statement. Was that why this man called for him? Did he receive news of their so-called 'break-up' and was now planning to tell him that he's going to pursue you now that you're not in a relationship anymore?
Ayato's eyes followed Scaramouche as he stood up from the metal rail he was previously sitting on. Meanwhile, the shorter one looked and turned away, seemingly looking at a distance.
"I knew it was all fake, by the way," he started. "She accidentally tweeted about it on her private account, and I got to see it before she deleted it."
"Since when?"
"That was even before your drama was released."
"That was a long time ago. You knew yet did nothing?"
Ayato was confused. If Scara had feelings for you, why didn't he act on it even after he found out that the thing you had for him was all a fraud? It was not something that he could comprehend.
Not with his way of thinking.
Kunikuzushi, on the other hand, begged to differ. He believed himself to have done the right thing.
He has already kept his affection for you to himself for several years, surely a few weeks, months more wouldn't be that big of a deal, right?
And so he stayed. Stayed observing, kept contemplating — remained being just a friend.
"Of course, the thought of having her for myself crossed my mind at that moment..." He smiled fondly. "...but I still didn't go with it."
He suddenly turned around, not giving Ayato the opportunity to retort.
"Because despite the fact that it wasn't real —"
Scaramouche sighed.
"— even the archons know how in love she was with you."
That left him speechless. For a seemingly inconsiderate and rough guy to say those words...
How can he remain calm? Another person who has romantic feelings for you just told him about your sincerest sentiments for him.
"Why are you —"
Ayato cut himself off with a forced gag.
"What the fuck?" He glared at the man who just punched his gut. He unconsciously hovered his arm over the pained area; though it wasn't too powerful, the sheer unexpectedness of the punch was enough to make it sting.
"Just because she loves you doesn't mean you get a pass. My anger won't vanish quickly, airhead."
Airhead?
Did... did he just insult me?
Me?
Yours truly?
This made Ayato raise a brow. "Oh?"
"Why not punch me in the face then? Scared?" Ayato challenged with a devious grin.
A sarcastic laugh was not what he was expecting in return.
"Are you dumb? With my strength, I am more than capable of landing a punch on your face that would take more than weeks to recover," Scaramouche smirked. "What if [Name] sees it? And her, being the angelic being she is, would ask you about it. Then you, being the conniving blabbermouth that you are, would tell her my name."
The fuck?
"She would be mad at me. That's the least thing I'd ever want."
"So that's why you punched me in an area that isn't visible."
"Precisely."
Ayato made a face. After a while, he attempted to get back at the other man with a punch too, but failed miserably. "Oh? Why are you hitting me back?"
"What kind of question even is that?"
"I thought you knew you deserved that punch in the gut," Kunikuzushi stated in a matter-of-fact tone, both hands inside his pockets. To Ayato, it seemed like the man in front of him was bigger than him at the moment. He was sneering down at him.
"You hurt her. So I punched you."
Yeah, I really did.
Backing down and lacking argument, he opted to just sit down on one of the skateboarding ramps. "Remind me why we had to meet here out of all places again?"
"This place..." Scaramouche followed his actions, sitting on the ramp opposite of him. "This place is special to me and [Name]. I used to skateboard often when I was still a student."
"She would always come to me with drinks and snacks in hand. Then, unofficially, this became our weekend hangout spot."
"So, you've liked her since... you were students?"
Kunikuzushi hummed.
"How come you've never told her in that whole time?"
"I'm a coward," he chuckled. "I didn't want to lose what we have. I was afraid that we would stray apart from each other once I do."
Ayato could do nothing but smile sympathetically. "I bet you wrote songs about her."
"Albums," Scaramouche corrected him.
"Damn."
"Yeah. Damn." Ayato felt the return of an intense glare. "I wrote entire albums for her then you had the audacity to hurt [Name] enough for her to end your relationship despite being deeply enamored with you? Wow. Tsk, tsk. Talk about a big jerk."
"I'm aware," he sighed. "Now, can you stop with that? Unless you really only called me out here to make me realize how much I messed up — which let's be honest I really did, and I honestly deserve every single shit you throw at me, but —"
"Glad to know that you know."
Ayato frowned.
He sensed a shift in Scaramouche's mood. He assumed the other was getting serious now. "I called you here because I want you to fix this mess... and to ask you a favor —"
"— I'm leaving [Name] in your care."
"..."
"However," The man pointed at him. "One mistake, Kamisato. One mistake and I'll make sure she'd want to spend her lifetime with me instead."
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privacy — ayato x reader smau
prev. masterlist. next.
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NOTES -> that was long im sorry ahfbdhd -> also scara pls be mine instead🥹🙏
TAGLIST I (closed) @catsrkool @sukunasrealgf @redactedhimbo @layla240 @mxlkytea13 @itsactuallylina @milza12 @aixaingela @tatiratty @kimiesstuff @laventiseriou @kunihaver @bibisbestgirl @lunaavity @coquettemaiden @opchara @slvdsjjk @cotton-eee @lady-elodie @dearxiiao @wheneverthesunrise @heartswonder @chuduchok @headphonesrlif3 @lleoll @vnderthesunn @lizzardlady1234 @nekogakuro @rifran @atlatcaheart @ani-st @creammpuff @lunastarjay @kittycasie @poisoned-candy-apples @zannivrs @b0bafl0wer @moonlightaangel @elsoleil
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tremendum · 5 months
Note
ok but Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex is so Joel and a younger reader coded.... ugh I just Love Him So Much
wow yes <33 i totally agree with u anon ugh i love that song esp this time of year.... you inspired me! thank u! def recommend listening to this song its so lovely
rating: mature. not nsfw but my blog is 18+ so mdni.       word count: 1.9k  warnings: not much tbh. mentions of alcohol, insecure Joel, soft!Joel <3, unestablished relationship, age gap (Joel is unspecified older), brief mention of Joel accidentally hitting reader in self defense, touch starved joel tbh, reader has a sister thats like it.
masterlist Joel fics: pretty little thing personal lies i've got headaches... Mr. Miller Series fever landmines
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Joel hears his name echo as swinging arms plunge down below him, a splash following right after.
a strike of fear pangs through his chest, though he hides it with a glare when Ellie tugs excitedly on his sleeve. "did you see that?" she asks, brows raised. he scowls in response, squinting down to make sure your bobbing body still has all the pieces.
you smile up at him, waving and shouting something that he misses.
his shoes crush over the dust that riddles the crumbling bridge he stands on, the cerulean river calm below. your body is plastered with your wet clothes when, minutes later, you pant up to the two of them with a grin and a cut hand. "the rocks are slippery down there."
Joel stares at you now, jaw clenched slightly at the memory from weeks ago. he'd rolled his eyes then - hadn't spoken to you for the rest of the day, too angry with the recklessness of your leap off the drop, the once-tall cityscape behind you turned to dust by years of turmoil and failed humanity.
and noticing his irritation, for the rest of the day you'd stayed behind him, not trying to speak to him again. instead you whispered with Ellie, sharing secrets like you were high schoolers. when Ellie fell sleep with her head in your lap that night, you'd whispered to him, told him you were sorry. that you hadn't meant to upset him.
he'd pretended to be asleep.
but now, you're the one asleep - body curled slightly, his jacket pulled over you like a blanket as your fist curls around the necklace you'd never taken off. the same one that held a locket your sister had given you - the one you talk about all the time, the one you'd tried to get Joel to try on once.
when you'd tried that, he'd snapped for you to keep your hands away from him. so Ellie had tried it on instead, and you told her it looked very pretty.
guilt seems to find him a lot at night.
your face, illuminated by the moonlight through the grimy windows of the building you'd scouted, is too peaceful, too serene. he has to look away.
something about you settles a very deep melancholy that he cannot understand.
you shift slightly, brows furrowing in that look you get when you're upset or angry or scared - it looks disheartening when you're asleep. he stares with intent, hand on his gun.
he knew you'd wanted to leave before he'd even asked. he'd seen the agony, the confusion, the sadness in your eyes every time he packed up to leave the QZ without you by his side - such a strange reaction from a neighbor.
a neighbor who used to show up every day without fail to try and convince him and Tess to let you in on their jobs. a neighbor who would, instead, wait with a med kit for him to return the next day or the next week.
even in the QZ, he thought of you often.
he'd watch you with your friends, spinning in your own world. it would strike him with a deep longing; the beauty you exude is one that, until meeting you, he'd thought was gone from the world.
you've got music laced in you, in your eyes, your smile, your arms; though you have no reason to. you've lost everything, you keep losing everything, and yet, against all odds, you keep so much life within you that he thinks you may one day burst. something about it hurts his chest.
when he met you, he thought you were naive. a young girl on her own in the Boston QZ, hoping to make extra money smuggling but never being taken seriously.
you never even made it out of the zone until you snuck out after them. Tess had found you first - his heart pangs and he shakes his head, staring at the spot that had bruised on your cheek from when you'd snuck up on them silently and paid for it with the butt of his gun.
and you'd laughed it off, like it was funny. you'd joked about it, teasing him as the purple turned to yellow. all while he stayed awake for nights, staring at the bruise while you slept, his chest heavy and his throat tight.
you've got that piece of life that nobody else has, and he cannot understand it. he doesn't think he ever will.
despite his best efforts, he'd gotten to know you. Tess had liked you. Ellie likes you. he likes you, too. he loves you.
he could tell early on that, for whatever reason, you care about him. now, he wonders if you might even love him too.
he doesn't understand why.
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you were well loved back in Boston. he'd seen it - in the hidden basements of bars, the shadows that walked you back to your apartment across from his at night, the same shadows that snuck from your apartments in the morning daybreak.
he'd tried not to stare out the peephole at the frames of lovers you'd taken as they kissed your forehead, hesitating in your doorway before leaving.
he'd seen handfuls of friends wrapped in your arms in the streets, wide smiles and bright cheeks.
there were nights where your friends didn't come around, and you were alone. those were his favorite nights, because you'd invite him over. even when he said no, it still gave him a warm feeling when you'd nod and mutter, next time, then.
you'd been making your own bottles of grain alcohol somehow - you'd invited him to a glass and once he finally took you up on it after months of asking, he'd seen how you'd been hiding them in the hollowed out piano that crumbled in the corner of your tiny apartment.
sitting on the piano bench, you'd told him that you had been in the QZ since you were around Ellie's age - when your sister had left for somewhere in the mountainous West; the two of you had been locked inside this crumbled city forever, she was ready to leave. but you had been scared - too young to travel - and you just couldn't find it in you to say goodbye.
she'd left without you the next day.
that was the night he learned that you played piano, too.
you've still got the music in you, and he doesn't understand why.
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he's worried about you.
or maybe, he's worried about himself.
days after you'd jumped from that bridge, the scream of his name from your lips a song of its own, you'd snuck them all across a river.
there had been people tracking you; Joel had kept a tight grip on his shotgun the entire hour, eyes sharp as he'd stared at the woods behind you all, Ellie in the middle, you in front, with your own gun drawn and a stare so strong it'd made his head skip.
you wanted to erase your tracks - but the river current was strong, rising with the snowmelt as you took several steps in. you'd saved them both from the currents and built a strong fire once the threat was cleared and you were miles away.
he'd worried about the curve of your lips, the smile that graced you while he and Ellie were grim and cold. he'd worried about the warmth that your laugh had given his chest.
the fire that night was warm, but you still rolled closer to Joel when you slept. he'd let you. and when he woke up that next morning while you were on watch, he'd found that in his fitful rest, he'd stretched his hand out, towards where you sat. his hand splayed on your calf while your other leg was bent, housing your chin.
you'd just smiled gently down at him when he'd moved his hand quickly, his eyes sheepish. you'd let him.
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"Joel?" your voice is very soft. even back in the QZ when he was in bed, your voice would come out and haunt him.
I know you want me.
it takes him a second to register that you've woken up from your sleep and slid up next to him. your thigh is warm where it touches him, but he doesn't dare look down. instead, he sets the gun down, turning to stare at your face.
your eyes are bleary from sleep, your hair tousled. you're so pretty it hurts.
his throat feels dry. "hey." he doesn't mean for his voice to come out that gentle. sometimes, when it's you and him, it just does.
guilt surrounds him as your hand slides over his thigh, burning warm, comfortable. how could something so beautiful exist in such a world? it makes him nervous.
you make him nervous.
"what are you thinking?" you ask. he knows you - knows that's your way of checking on him. you do that, just as he does to you. are you feeling alone?
he shakes his head, "lots of things I shouldn't be." he says honestly, his eyes searching the depths of yours. but you're good to me.. so good to me.
you're not scared of him like you ought to be.
you shrug, "tell me."
he doesn't see the reason to lie anymore; you've been haunting him for too long. and he's been hiding himself from you.
"just don't know why you're with me. with us. here." but he can't bring himself to finish his thoughts - because you, despite it all, loved your life before you left it. because you had lovers, you had friends your age, a life. you were so much safer without me. because you have that music in you, and it's still there despite it all. despite me.
you shift next to him, your cheek falling to his shoulder. he doesn't feel the urge to shake you off like he used to - that feeling melted away months ago, shortly after the desire to put his lips on yours burned in his soul.
"I just think you underestimate how much you mean to me." you say, eyes full of too much light.
he sees that music again; the unrelented spirit in your cheeks when you smile. the laughter that hasn't left you even when you left your old life behind for him and a girl you didn't know. tell me why, tell me why.
he doesn't know what to say, but his head turns gently to place a kiss to the crown of your head.
he nearly feels sick at the implications of such an action, but you just sidle up closer to him, your hand squeezing his thigh gently. he turns to look at you and you move off his shoulder, lifting your own eyes to meet his.
his breath catches in his throat as you look up at him, love and trust in your eyes. the locket glints in his peripheral as he stares down at your glowing, beautiful face.
your lips, my lips.
he intends to kiss your forehead - the way he'd seen all those lovers do months ago, back in Boston. the way he'd always ached to.
but you meet him halfway, and suddenly your warmth is on him.
it spreads from his lips and grows through his body - a beautiful, melancholic hum that sings along his veins. you are soft, you are pliant, strong, loving.
everything he doesn't deserve.
and yet you kiss him and you let your hand fall to his jaw, tilting yourself to feel more of him. he doesn't understand why, but maybe that's okay.
he kisses you back softly, then desperately.
your lips and his, something so kind, full of life. something that doesn't belong in such an apocalypse.
something he couldn't live without.
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(once again begging) send more requests! for Joel and Din! taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeiaaa @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @scarletthefierce @worhols @hearthrooob
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gallusrostromegalus · 11 months
Note
the 'Kon :)' in the list of things you're pleased about in aeiwam has be EXCITED please tell us more (if you want to)!
Soon after Masaki died, Isshin Kurosaki moved his family. It's mostly because the original clinic didn't feel haunted- if Masaki's spirit were still here, Isshin would know what to do, but instead he felt like his heels were dogged by the hole where she used to be.
It didn't hurt that the new place was larger, in a better school district, and closer to his friend Ryukken. He's almost feeling cheerful about the new place when Ichigo runs up the stairs and from room to room before calling dibs on one, because he's a big kid now and doesn't want to sleep where he has to listen to his dad snoring all night >:(.
Isshin felt slightly less cheerful when he looked out the big window in Ichigo's room to determine if he needs to put up some child safety grates, and realized their new neighbor was a taxidermist.
"I feel like it gives them a sort of dignity- A Life After Life, if you will." she said when he went by to make sure his neighbor was only eccentric and not something out of a horror movie. He wasn't entirely sure which, actually- Ms. Tanaka was an octogenarian with skin like tissue paper and a back like a question mark, but her living room was a veritable zoo of reconstituted animals, many of them former pets, if the number of domestic cats was anything to go by.
"Oh. Yeah!" Isshin grinned, terrified, and was struck by the idea of some goon in the 12th division slavering in the afterlife, desperate for her to shuffle off the mortal coil and bring her undoubted skills with dead bodies to R&D. "We've always been very spiritual people."
(Continued under the readmore)
"Oh, just like the nice young man who used to live in your house!" said Ms. Tanaka, sitting down in her armchair that was adorned by an ostentatious past-tense peacock perched on the back. "Odd fellow. Worked nights, spoke like he was born in the Sengoku Era or something, but very nice."
"He's BEAUTIFUL!" said Ichigo, staring in awe at an enormous Ginger Tabby Cat by the window, mounted in repose on a emerald velvet cat bed. Ms. Tanaka had done an excellent job conveying a sense of benevolent egotism on his whiskered face, but Ichigo's growing fascination with the Macabre was beginning to worry his father- Ichigo had seen the taxidermy stoat in the back window and INSISTED on coming along.
"Isn't he?" beamed Ms. Tanaka. "His name is Bostov! He was my very best friend for many years."
"Wow! Can I pet him?" Ichigo asked, eyes wide with delight.
"Ichigo, that's uh- that's not a real kitty-" Isshin began to sputter.
"Of course he's a real kitty!" Ms. Tanaka laughed, a noise like an ungreased gate. "You can pet him if you're very gentle." Ichigo stroked the deceased animal with exceptional delicacy for an overexcited Kindergartner. "He's so soft!" he gasped.
"Do you like him?" asked Ms. Tanaka.
"I LOVE HIM!" Said Ichigo, cheeks flushed and eyes bright for the first time in months now. Perhaps having a distant relative of the Addams family for a neighbor isn't so bad, if her creepy hobby cheers Ichigo up... Isshin sighed.
"In that case, why don't you take him home with you?" Smiled Ms. Tanaka. "I'm sure he'll be a good friend to you too."
"UH." Isshin blurted out, nearly spilling his tea on a flock of quail under the side-table.
"I have SO MANY friends in my home with me- it's bordering on a fire hazard!" Ms. Tanaka chuckled. "I'd be delighted to send him to a home where he'll be loved. Please- consider him my housewarming present!"
"CAN WE? CAN WE TAKE HIM HOME? PLEASE DAD??PLEEEEEEEASE-!!" Ichigo asked, stars in his eyes.
Isshin froze, horrified at the prospect of having... That. In his house. Watching him. ...and at the same time, completely unwilling to dash his little boy's dreams.
"yEaH oKaY." Isshin grimaced, soaked in a cold sweat.
*****
Bostov The Former Cat was bad enough, but at least the taxidermy beast 'lived' on Ichigo's bedroom dresser and not down in the living room where Isshin would have to look at it's green glass eyes, which seemed to follow him around the room. It wasn't right having a hollow thing in the house like that- any wandering spirit could decide to climb in there! He resolved to have it warded, but Kisuke said he was on a trip to the Caribbean for "Botanical Research" , and wouldn't be back until "After the Big Holiday on the 20th". Isshin hung up the phone, groaned and rubbed his face. It was fairly late, and he was still at the kitchen table, going through all of the licensing paperwork to get the clinic up and running.
"Hey Dad?" Ichigo asked, holding up a small plastic toy. "What's 'Soul Candy'?"
"Soul Cand-?" Isshin frowned, turned to look at the toy and nearly jumped out of his skin, swiping it away from the boy. "WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS? DID YOU EAT ANY??"
"...it was upstairs, in the back of my closet." Ichigo pouted. "-and no, I didn't eat any strange closet candy. I'm not stupid."
"Oh thank the Gods..." Isshin sighed, sitting back down at the table and shaking the small, duck-headed pill dispenser. Empty. "-I'm sorry I yelled Ichigo, but this is Very Dangerous stuff."
Ichigo arched an incredulous Eyebrow at him. "Really? Is this the same kind of dangerous that the half my Halloween candy you confiscated and ate was?"
"Ah- well. No. That was Dad Tax. This is actually dangerous. Here, come sit with me a minute." he pulled out the other chair at the kitchen table. "Remember how I told you about the ghost that lived in my attic when I was your age?"
"The Shinigami?" Ichigo asked.
Isshin did not *enjoy* lying to his children, but a little knowledge was a dangerous thing, and not enough even more so, so he'd concocted a little fantasy to explain why he knew all about ghosts and why the children never saw their grandparents, so he could tell them about the dangers of this world without telling them too much.
"That's right- His name was Kaien Shiba, and he was a Soul Reaper. At night, he'd turn into a ghost and leave his body behind, and go escort spirits to the afterlife or fight hollows." Isshin said. he'd named the fictional soul reaper after his favorite nephew in a fit of inspiration- he'd started telling Ichigo a tale from his days as a Shinigami one night after slightly too many drinks and had to convince Ichigo that that was only a distant acquaintance.
"...Like what killed Mom." Ichigo muttered.
"Um. Yeah." Isshin nodded.
They were silent for a moment.
"-Anyway, the way he turned into a ghost was that he'd swallow one of these little candies that would come in these tubes-" Isshin pulled the duck's head back to show Ichigo the mechanism. "-and Poof! he'd jump out of his body as a ghost so he could use magic to save people! But-there was a little soul inside the candy that would come out and take care of his body while he was away! Like a babysitter, but for his own butt! After a few hours, the little soul would stop working, and Kain would be home to climb back in."
Ichigo blinked at the mechanism, thinking. "So. There's a little person in these candies?"
"If there were any in here, yeah." Said Isshin. "They're not like. Whole people. Just little collages of behaviors and phrases. You know, like the fake voice that talks on the phone when you call to refill a prescription!" Ichigo frowned, considering something. "...There weren't any candies in this thing, were there?" Isshin asked, suspicious.
"No." Said Ichigo, frowning at him. "It'd be really lonely, being just a little soul, stuck in a candy, wouldn't it?" he asked.
"I suppose so, but I don't think the little souls are aware while they're in there. It's like being asleep for them." Isshin shrugged, lying to himself as much as his son about that.
Ichigo still frowned. "...What happens if the candy goes into a body without a soul in it? Like a dead body?" "Huh." Isshin frowned. "I dunno, actually. I guess the little soul would run around and operate it for a while, until it faded out, like it did with a normal body?"
Ichigo nodded, still preoccupied.
"Why?" Isshin tried.
"...No reason." Ichigo muttered, kicking his little feet. "Just thinking."
"Alright. Promise me if you find anything else weird or see any random candies to not touch them and tell me right away, okay?"
"Yeah okay." Ichigo nodded, only sort of paying attention. "I'm gonna go to bed. G'night dad." he muttered, getting up from the table and handing the dispenser to Isshin before giving him a quick hug and stomping up the stairs.
Isshin watched him go, aching a bit. I wondered how old he was gonna be when he started keeping secrets from me. He sighed, looking down at the Soul Candy Dispenser. Not that I'm being a Paragon of Honesty for him to follow...
---
"GIRLS? ICHIGO? HAVE ANY OF YOU SEEN MY STETHOSCOPE?" Isshin hollered, searching fruitlessly under the couch cushions.
"NO!" Hollered Karin from where she and Yuzu were playing in the small front yard.
"TRY ICHIGO'S ROOM, HE TOOK A BUNCH OF LAUNDRY UP TO SORT." called Yuzu.
"THANKS GIRLS!" he called back stomping up the stairs. Ichigo was at karate- he'd finally returned to classes, or at least, Tatsuki had finally physically dragged him back into the Dojo. "Man I hope I didn't put it through the washing machine-" he muttered, opening the door to the boy's room and started searching through the basket of laundry on his bed.
Isshin stopped, and stood up, frowning around the room. Something was off.
Ichigo was a tidy boy, somehow, and his room was usually in order save for whatever video game he had out to play and the bed he never made but... Isshin turned fully around trying to figure out what was off before his eyes finally landed on the top of the Dresser.
The Emerald Green Velvet Cat bed, home of Bostov The Cat, was empty.
"Did he take the cat out of the bed to play with?" Isshin wondered aloud, hoping that that, and not several other horrible scenarios, was what was happening. He could hear Karin and Yuzu giggling through the window, and he peeked down at them- they appeared to be having a tea party on the thin strip of grass, and the guest of honor amongst the dolls and stuffed animals was a familiar-looking ginger tabby. "Oh! The GIRLS took him out to play with." he sighed with relief, leaning against the window to watch them.
...and watch a strange man approaching down the street, who stopped at the garden fence. Isshin frowned- maybe he was just watching the girls play, in a normal, wholesome way like he was doing right now. ...or he could be taking candy out of his pocket and waving the girls to come through the gate.
Isshin jumped on the bed, tore open the window with such force it jumoed out of it's track and was halfway out to jump down at the man from the second floor when the most EXTRAORDINARY thing happened.
Bostov, Who by all accounts had been deceased for the better part of a decade and was made of little more than a skin and some glass stretched over a wood-and-cotton frame, Suddenly leapt up from his chair, claws and teeth drawn like swords and leapt upon the man, battering him visciously with a stream of einvective so foul it made Isshin's barrack-hardened linguistic sensibilities blush, before chasing him back down the street like a short, furious, ass-seeking missile.
"GIRLS!" he shouted, jumping down anyway. "-ARE YOU OKAY?"
"DON'T GET MAD AT ICHIGO OR KON!!" Shouted Yuzu, tears in her eyes.
"...ichigo or who?" Isshin blinked.
"Way to spill the beans, Yuzu." Karin groaned. "Yeah Dad, we're FINE- Kon was here, he'll beat the crap out of anything."
"Who's Kon?" Isshin repeated.
"HEY DAD." Shouted Ichigo, skidding into the garden in his karate gi, and out of breath, clutching an unconvincingly stiff Mr. Bostov under his arm. "SO. UH- WELL MR. BOSTOV CAN MOVE NOW. FOR SOME REASON."
"Uh-huh?" Isshin glared at the cat, who glanced away nervously. "Why do you think that is?"
"...it's a Christmas Miracle?" Tried Ichigo.
"Ichigo, it's fucking April." groaned Karin.
"...Passover?" tried Ichigo.
"-This wouldn't have anything to do with that Soul Candy Dispenser you found, would it?"
"uhhhhhhh..." said Ichigo. Honesty might not have been one of the boy's virtues, but at least he was a terrible liar.
"PLEASE DADDY DON'T GET ANGRY!!" Sobbed Yuzu, throwing herself around his calf and wailing. "MR. KON IS THE MOST NICEST KITTY IN THE WHOLE WORLD! HE PLAYS TEA TIME AND DRESS-UP WITH US AND TELLS JOKES AND CHASES AWAY DOGS AND SCARY MEN AND HE ALWAYS WAKES UP ICHIGO WHEN HE'S HAVING A NIGHTMARE-!"
"Yeah, actually, Kon's like. the first thing to make me laugh since. Well." Mumbled Karin, plodding over to Isshin's other leg and leaning heavily on him. "Please? he's weird, but he's a good guy."
Isshin sighed, then glared back down at the cat. "Alright. Who are you?" he demanded.
Ichigo and the formerly immobile cat glanced at each other and the feline unfolded as Ichigo set him down, shaking himself out and sitting on the walkway.
"So, uh- Hi. My name's Kon. Kon Bostov, if you wanna be formal, in honor of the beast whose body I currently inhabit." He nodded, waving a paw evocatively. "-And, uh. Well, how much do you know about the afterlife?"
"-Being from a long line of psychic mediums and prone to hauntings, my parents rented out our attic to a Shinigami when I was a child, and he told me pretty much everything." Said Isshin, and Kon winced. "So. Is 'Kon' short for 'Mod Konpaku'?"
"Ehh... well, Yeah." Kon winced. "-But hey! It wasn't my idea to be cooked up in a lab by some maniac and then put to death minutes later for something I didn't even do!" he snarled, fur bristling.
"What?" asked Karin.
"Kids I- Look, I didn't mean to lie, there just wasn't a good time to bring it up but. Technically, I'm wanted by the law. I'm an artificial soul created for battle to be put into dead bodies, but literally four and a half minutes after I woke up, the soul society- where all the Shinigami are from- condemned me to die, because they didn't like how strong some of the other Mod Souls were. I managed to roll myself off of the table and into a box of normal bodyminders to hide, Got put in a dispenser and then the shinigami that had been here accidentally left me behind." Kon explained.
"COOL!" Shouted Karin.
"NOT COOL. BAD!" Shouted Isshin. "Okay, okay I- I mean you're right, I never- I mean, the way Kaien told it, the whole Mod Soul program was pretty shady and it sounded really unfair. But why would a Shinigami just leave an important and dangerous tool lying around?"
"...I don't know how much spiritual sense you have my guy, but this town doesn't have a Hollow problem so much as the Hollowpocalylse goin' on." Kon grimaced. "-I really hope that guy's okay, he seemed pretty cool from what I could tell. I don't actually remember hearing him get called back to soul society." Kon muttered. "-Anyway, about three weeks ago, your brother found me in the dispenser in the back of his closet and put my candy body into this taxidermy cat, and I've been hanging out with the kids since then! You know, like a cat is supposed to do!"
Isshin stared blankly at Kon. The girls hugged his legs, lips wobbling, but he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, firming up his resolve- no matter how nice he seemed, a Mod Soul was a dangerous thing- and one crafty enough to live right under his nose for the better part of a month? No, absolutely n-
Isshin opened his eyes to see Ichigo had picked up Kon, cradling the cat to his tiny body, eyes wide and beginning to glisten with tears.
"...Ah. What the hell. You make the kids laugh." Isshin sighed, and all four cheered, thanking him profusely and promising to be extra-good and take good care of Kon- "But you put so much as a Whisker out of line and you're in deep trouble, got it?" Isshin leaned into the cat's face, scowling menacingly and shaking his finger at Kon.
"Understood sir!" Kon Saluted. "So when's dinner? Ichigo's been sneaking me scraps but I could really go for some chicken, or maybe ham-" he asked, tail thrashing excitedly.
"You can eat?" Isshin asked. "I thought you were all... Whatever they stuff taxidermy animals with?"
"-Might've been, but I'm all complete now? Fluff, guts, claws-the works!" Kon shrugged, hopping up on Isshin's shoulder. "-Between you an' me, I ain't even neutered! But that ain't a problem- Plenty of hot pussy around, if you know what I mean, especially that sweet little tuxedo bobtail just up the street- Me-YOW, huh?"
"Oh gods." Groaned Isshin, covering his face. "What am I letting into my house?"
"An intact male cat is called a 'Tom' Dad." Karin called over her shoulder.
"Alright Kon, a few rules- No more swearing in front of the kids, no bringing ladies around the house and for goodness sake DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE HERE!" Isshin snarled at him.
"Alright, alright!" Kon sighed, rolling his eyes. "Out of curiosity though- What rank was your guy Kaien?"
"Hm?" Isshin asked.
"Only that I thought only the captains and a few lieutenants ever knew about project Spearhead." Kon glanced at Isshin, arching an orange-striped brow at him. "-funny thing, having a seated officer doing routine patrols, isn't it?"
"I dunno?" Shrugged Isshin, trying to keep his shoulders from tensing up, "-He didn't actually tell me all that much about how the soul society is governed."
"Huh." Kon nodded, smirking just a bit. "Interestin' guy, this Kaien. You should tell me about him sometime!"
"KOOOOONN!" Yuzu called. "My Dollie's shoe got under the fridge!"
"Coming Sweetie!" Kon called, jumping off Isshin's shoulder to reach his skinny little cat arm under the fridge and swat the missing accessory out from under the appliance. Yuzu applauded with delight and hugged him, laughing for the first time in ages.
Isshin watched them play for a bit and sighed. He not a bad guy, this Kon. All the same- Isshin took out his phone and dialed a number.
"~Urahara Shoten, home of Karkura Town's finest Candies, Cell Phones and Card Games! I'm on sabbatical 'til the end of the month or so, so if it's an emergency, hang up and call the Kurosaki Clinic! Or die! If it's not an emergency, leave me a message with what you need and I'll hook you up when I get back! Bye!~" Urahara's voicemail recording sing-sang over the line.
"Kisuke. It's me, Isshin. You will not fucking believe what my kids found in the new house. Call me as soon as you get back."
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I MISS MY MATTHIAS I MISS HIM SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAA
Rated: Explicit | Warning: lipstick and shibari (listen i got my favs lol)
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“Needs more blue.”
“Please, (Name).”
“You're right, maybe purple.”
Matthias struggles to be still as you bite his chest, another bloom of a hickey on his breast, you lick his nipple making him jerk at action more so than the sensation, he does that to you but to have it done to him is odd— But not unwelcome. The part of his body scarred by the fire is covered with different shades of lipstick, his clothes completely off and his dick in your hand slowly pumping the weeping suffering cock.
“(Name).” This is killing him to be lying here tied down unable to do anything but endure your endless boundless undaunted affectionation. He says something in his native tongue and you giggle knowing frustration is kicking in as he no longer is speaking English.
“Shh, just a few more colors.”
This time you give attention to his cock but only by kissing it all over with blue lipstick then switching to red letting it blend with the blue.
“Argh!” He needs to cum so bad but you continue to refuse him.
“Matthias, you look so beautiful.” Examining your handy work, “Aw, don’t cry. I promise you will get all that you need and more.” Covering his lips with the color of red, “A thousand nights of lovemaking will not be enough to show you how much I love you.”
Matthias jerks his whole body up as your heat touches his cock, you moan as you grind on him, hips swaying in an erotic dance only he can witness. Your hands on his chest to keep yourself steady on top of him.
“My beautiful lover. Matthias, you are so handsome. If only you could keep me here to worship only you. I will give you everything.”
The puppeteer might actually die with how you are making him feel with all this talk.
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Matthias Czernin is a master of his craft, whether unwillingly or not, he knows how to create puppets with ease. His left-hand keeps your chin up as his right hand applies the final touches of your makeup.
He has an eye for colors, blending, and applying. Something you guess is from years of puppeteering.
“There.” It seems like a waste to do all this just to ruin it very soon, but you begged him to do this for you.
“Wow, this is amazing, Matthias.” Smiling as you look at yourself with a handheld he holds up for you, “Hehe.” Giggling with glee alright as puts the mirror away on your vanity before assisting you to lay on the bed.
Naked, a strong ribbon-like fabric fashioned in an intricate pattern, you told him it is called shibari and how it works as both sensual and artistic.
The puppeteer admires the assisted work lying on his bed staring up at him trusting him not to harm them. Because this requires trust.
“Nervous?” You ask.
“Not as much before,” His scarred-covered hand travels up your body, the pattern of the ribbons and color looks lovely on your skin. “Wow.”
“Next time we should try this on you.” Nuzzling his hand when he cups the side of your face, “You will look beautiful.”
“... Maybe.” He is a bit shy about trying these things on himself given the position he will be in, however, he is learning you enjoy an equal partnership with him. He can be the dominant force but you can too have a chance for the other to submit comfortably. The topic a person of your time period could only bring up to him.
“You are beautiful, Matthias. Especially with rouge on.” Winking at him.
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achieve-the-sun · 2 months
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Idk if you’re still taking twst requests, but if you are…
Have you ever drawn Leona in your style? 🥺
Your work is so soft and nostalgic and reminds me of children’s book illustrations. It’s such a unique and really beautiful art style and I just love looking at it! Makes me feel like these are characters in a storybook, which is really fun since pretty much all of the characters og tales - what even Disney based their movies on - come from stories. The only odd one out is Ignihyde of course, since Hades is based on Greek mythology.
But yeah… I just really love your art. So if requests aren’t open, just take this as an ask that is complimenting you! 😊💜
First of all!! Thank you so much @the-ace-reader !!! 😭😭😭💜
You have no idea how important this is to me and how happy it makes me!!
Now more than a few are telling me that my art has a nostalgic vibe and you're also telling me they feel from an actual storybook than just fanarts? Wow, that hits a spot.
So really, thank you for your sweet words, they're really precious to me 💕
And! I realised i never actually drew Leona before! So here's a little sketch, hope you like it!!
Have a wonderful day, too☀️
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milksuu · 6 months
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HIIII omg im in love w ur writing !! if it’s not too much to ask, can i request heartsteel aphelios and his s/o who also happens to be an idol?? maybe something where he finds them stressing about a song not being good enough or just general stress?? ty in advance!!
❥ prompt: Being an idol came with all the stresses one could imagine. Autograph signings, photo shoots, and general press interviews. That was your life. Day in and day out. At some point, something had to break. But Aphelio's was there to pick up the pieces. ❥ content/warnings: hurt/comfort, panic attack, angst, fluff ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel aphelios/ f!reader
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Your life was scheduled. Rigid. Kept in a little black book. In the right-back pocket of your manager's steam pressed pants. Anything that went outside the borders of those pages, was irrelevant. Nothing else mattered.
And a lot of times, you thought you didn't matter. Your manager would remind you, quite often. That you were just another pretty face. With just another pretty voice. With just another idol cookie-cutter personality. Easily replaceable. Easily forgotten. No matter how many hit singles topped the charts. No matter how many brand deals you signed. No matter how many venues sold out. If that black book disappeared, you would go along with it.
But when you met Aphelios. You felt it. How important you actually were.
It was a comical meet-cute. There was a mix up in dressing-rooms at one photoshoot, where multiple artists attended. You found it odd when you saw the make-up artist open their color palette. Mostly darker colors, which wasn't on brand for your aesthetic. Still, you didn't question it. To not be labeled a difficult artist, you went along with anything and everything.
It wasn't until Aphelio's knocked on your dressing-room door. And when you opened it. Wow. How pretty. With all that glitter pink lip-gloss, peach summer cheek blush, and gorgeous lash extending mascara. Then there was you; dark lipstick, pale cover foundation, and heavy eye-liner on your bottom lid. He explained the situation by taking a lip-stick and writing on his arm. You couldn't stop laughing ever since.
It was only a miracle that you were somehow able to convince your manager to set up a collab with Aphelios. If it involved work and profit, it was marked inside the little black book. If that's what it took. You would work yourself to death. Even just to spend a fraction of time with him.
And yet. How did it turn out like this? There you were, inside the recording booth at Riot Studios. Your hands crinkling the lyric sheet Aphelios gave to you. Written specially for you to sing. But you were trembling, your voice trapped inside you. Your heart pounded so loud it hurt your chest and head. Your breathes? Where did they go?
Your dizzy eyes darted upward. Behind the booth glass, you saw Aphelios raised in his seat. A look of worry spreading through his features.
Bang! You flinched. Your manager slammed that little black book against the glass. Yelling at you to sing—to stop wasting everyone's damn time. Bang! You're going to be replaced. Bang! You're going to be forgotten. You! Don't! Matter!
The banging stopped. You stared wide-eyed. Aphelios snatached that little black book. Page by page, he tore it to shreds. Tossing the pieces at your manager, and tossing the book on the ground. His voice silent, but you heard him. So loud. So clear. A strong and beautiful voice. It was the strength you needed to not collapse.
Before any physical confrontation transpired, Aphelios pressed a specific button underneath the panel. Shortly after, two security guards dragged your manager, red-faced and swearing out the door.
Aphelios hurried inside the booth with you. You reached a trembling hand to him, stumbling into his arms with utter exhaustion. He caught you in his embrace, bringing you into the safety of his chest. You heard his heart sing. Felt it beating against your cheek, reaching for you too. Thank God. Hot tears pricked the corners of your eyes. That little black book was gone. But you were still here. You mattered.
And you mattered so much to Aphelios. He made some text calls, contacted a couple of important people, and pulled some strings. He arranged your new manager to be his sister, Alune. Who was more than happy to work with you. From then on, your days were filled with Aphelio's, Alune, and the rest of Heartsteel. Your most precious musical family.
an: bruhhh the life an idol, especially if you have a poopy manager must be hell. so stressful. ty for you req. anon. got me in the feels a bit here.
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goddessofwisdom-7 · 4 months
Text
Metal Roses
Leo Valdez x Daughter of Jupiter! Reader
Description: Leo's been in love with Jason's twin sister for months. It's been too long, and now he's ready to finally tell her.
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Leo had saved Calypso. Just as he promised that he would.
But while cruising the skies headed to Camp Half-Blood after months apparently, he could only focus on the thought of you. He was gonna tell you.
He had spent all those months so afraid. Of you rejecting him, forsaken him, abandoning him.
But death has an odd way of putting things in perspective. You're one of his greatest friends and you'd never shun him. Whatever you felt and whatever be felt, the two of you would face it together. It would be alright.
He just needed to tell you. Couldn't run away anymore.
At first, he justified his secret by saying it would be weird for him to ask his best friend's twin out, Jason might disapprove; but turns out that Jason was totally chill apparently his sister's love life wasn't his business and he trusted Leo.
But then during the quest, you had this laser focus, and there was so much going on at every moment that he couldn't find the right time to tell you.
And then he was planning on dying (and resurrecting) so he couldn't tell you then. What kinda guy would he be if he told you and then just left? It was all for the greater good though, he'd take the death path if it saved you and Jason.
But now, now.
He'd outsmarted the prophecy, there were no major imminent deaths looming over them. He rehearsed what he wanted to say a hundred times, and the metal roses he twisted to shape were ready.
Festus feels warm under his hands as the cold evening air rushes past him. He remembers the time you had lifted him up into the air, his cheeks heat up with the memory, unsure with what he found more attractive: the strength and ease with which you lifted him, the close proximity to you, you in your element, or you smiling so so brightly. And that beautiful silly laugh.
You had told him that you planned on sticking around the Greeks after the war so Camp Half-Blood was a good place to start his search for you.
And wow, the Camp has gone through the works.
Apollo is human and unsurprisingly invited trouble. Everyone has mild to moderate symptoms of hay fever, Nico— Nico, his favourite grumpy little emo Italian is dating Will? Wow; Percy paid the Camp a visit, he's like almost a proper college kid now.
He tries to pay attention to whatever Percy and all say to him as the campers take their turns to sucker punch him. Completely overkill but not entirely undeserved. But his eyes keep shifting, scanning the crowd to spot you.
But there aren't any electric Grace-typical eyes in his view.
"Hey– uh, what are the other's up to now?" He asks.
Percy huffs brightly, giving him the rundown on Annabeth's whereabouts. He always looks so in love, Leo realises he looks like that when he talks about you, he hopes you'll look like that for him too. Percy tells him about Frank and Hazel (at Camp Jupiter, they're doing well last I heard from them), and Piper, and her family's struggles at the moment and Jason is at a boarding school (oh yeah, they broke up).
Now that Leo thinks about it, Percy is a little bit of a gossip queen.
That's when he realises that his buddy left out one person–
"And, uh, what about the Lady Grace?" He asks, laughing a little.
Percy's smile dims though, and huh, okay. Weird.
He looks at Leo, suddenly quiet and pained.
"You haven't heard?"
"Heard what?"
"Leo, we uh– we had two casualties out of the eight of us in the battle," Percy's gaze becomes distant and he looks so much older than he is, "you were one but the uh, the sec– (y/n), was the second."
What?
No. No. No. No.
"Is this a joke? No way. She was safe."
But Percy wouldn't lie about this.
"I'm sorry," Percy says, and Leo looks to Chiron and Nico and Will and they– they're telling the truth, "the had her funeral at Camp Jupiter. A warrior and a hero's funeral."
Angry tears fill his eyes and he refuses to let them fall as he nods mutely. He doesn't believe them. Won't. Not until he meets Jason and Jason tells him. Leo needs to know for sure. Because you couldn't've died. No way.
Only
He reaches Jason to learn that Jason's dead.
Two of his favourite people are dead. And he didn't get to say goodbye to either of them.
The roses in his tool belt are squished and bent out of shape. And Leo reaches the horrible conclusion that he never really outsmarted the prophecy. Since he found a way to live, the Fates had to endure the twins died.
He learns about the urn with your ashes that were kept. And he learns about the wishes of the children of Jupiter to have their ashes scattered in the same place– a meadow filled with sunflowers, close to Camp.
Leo dreams of you all those nights. He's not sure if this is a real vision of you or his demented cursed brain at work. You keep smiling and he tries to tell you he loves you but somehow his voice doesn't reach you and every night you fly further away from him.
He burns the roses and the memory of his stupid rehearsed speech.
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Note
The slashers
(And Carrie please 😭)
With a albino child reader🤭‼️
Omg I don't know much about albinism sorry if I got something wrong or missed anything.
I shortened it because I'm not consistent.
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Michael
Michael was stalking and then he saw you and thought you were a baby angel at first. Like seriously, you look so angelic!
Wanted to observe you more but then he realised that he's out for killing and then ran walked away.
A bit later when he's killed 3 people that he wonders why he didn't kill you. But whatever it was he wanted to see you again.
For a possibly-not-an-angel-and-just-an-odd-kid you sure as hell did act like an angel.
And then he started to feel protective over you. He distanced himself but that didn't work so he just dealt with this annoying feeling for now.
He saw a kid call you a mf chalk and then later he was also found cut out and dead like a chalk.
It was a sunny day where you tried to cover your eyes from the bright sun away from your sensitive eyes and your not so good wasn't helping at all.
You kept bumping into things when you bumped into a hard clothed big statue like legs which made a shade for your smaller body and you got a good look at your savior.
You were kinda creeped out since his gaze on you felt the exact watching ones you felt when you were outside or near a window but those eyes never meant harm or anything malicious towards you.
The figure then fastly walked away which was unknowingly the start of your new little friendship.
Sinclair brothers
They couldn't believe their eyes when they first saw you. You were just so... Different! In a good way! Wondered if you were just a pale kid who just bleached every hair on their body. Please forgive them they're new to this.
Bo again shows you off for tourist attraction but just in the shade, if you think he only likes you is because you can get the attention of people effectively he'll be very quick to dismiss those thoughts, of course he sees you more than that! That part is just for business. Don't think such silly thoughts again. Probably says shit like "don't run off and trip on the ground, it'll be a pain if your hair gets dirtied." but really it's just a dumb excuse to keep his paranoia away. He'll buy glasses for you if your eyesight is crazy poor.
Vincent also loves how you look. He's just in the corner like "wow I can't believe that beautiful child likes me." his cute little ass is in the basement and scribbling. Plays with your hair if you have any. He'd pick you up if you're having a hard time seeing, or covers you up on a bright day. He loves how you look but also hates the consequences you have to suffer with. He thinks you're very delicate because of these reasons and so comes mama Vincent, bo is around the corner no one can handle his mom energy yet.
Lester is sad that most of the time you can't go outside mostly because of your light sensitivity. But although the stars and the moon do look nice. Still tries to give you a good life though, he understands that you probably got looked at weirdly and doesn't want to make you feel that same way. Lester and Jonesy always have your back on this one. Random person bothering you? No problem Jonesy will get the pleasure of scaring the shit out of them maybe bite them idk depends. Maybe they're both mauling that person
Carrie
Was awestruck when she first saw you. Thought you kinda looked like her! And that you were an angel since you fit the description of one.
Would get confused if you said you get bullied. God people find reasons to bully someone for no reason.
She would definitely do something about it though, it would be very rude of her if she just let it continue.
Wouldn't go as far as killing but would scare them into never talking to you again. She might feel kinda bad but they deserved it.
Gives you old light coloured clothing as it goes well with you. Maybe you two can match!
Doesn't know what her mother will think of you so she keeps you hidden. She means no harm! She just wants to make sure she can be there for you.
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thisapplepielife · 5 months
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
You Know Why
Prompt Day 7: Hanukkah | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Canon Divergence Post-Season 4, Eddie Munson Lives, Gift Giving, Mutual Attraction, Flirting and Wooing
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Eddie comes home from work, tired, and ready to wash the whole day off him. Working at the plant isn't for him, he knows it, Wayne knows it, everybody else that works there, knows it. But Eddie keeps going, keeps working, just so he has a way to help Wayne keep the lights on. 
When he stumbles into the kitchen, there's a small package wrapped on the counter. That's odd. It is the first night of Hanukkah, but Wayne's never really been one to leave gifts. Not like this. Eddie picks it up and shakes it. 
It's wrapped in blue paper, but not terribly well. Eddie checks the tag and it is for him, so he opens it, carefully.
It's a watch, similar to the one he destroyed in the lake. But this one has a calculator on it. Little buttons for each number, and that's pretty cool. He's seen these before, but they cost about twice as much as the standard version, so he figured he could definitely do without all the bells and whistles. 
He hadn't replaced his watch, not yet, and this one is nice. Thoughtful. Maybe Wayne did buy him a new watch, tired of him always asking what time it is, and just didn't want to make a fuss about it. 
But Dustin has been wearing one like this recently, and Eddie wonders if that's exactly where this came from. Dustin would be into Hanukkah, way more than Wayne. 
Eddie takes it out of the box, off the little stand it's displayed on, and lays it across his wrist, fastening the strap. Eddie looks down. This is great. He wishes he'd had this in school, maybe he'd have done better on his math tests with a little help from a calculator on his wrist. 
The next night, there's another box. It doesn't weigh anything, but when he unwraps it, it's a new bandana. With a big dragon in the middle. He loves it, and immediately stuffs it in his back pocket. 
These are great presents. Thoughtful. From someone that knows him pretty well. 
On the third night, there's a package of guitar strings, the exact kind he uses on Sweetheart. While it could be Jeff or Gareth, he's pretty confident that it isn't. 
This stuff is from Steve. He's sure of it. They've been dancing around each other for weeks, months. Testing the waters. 
So, on night four, Eddie waits, sitting in the trailer in the dark. And sure enough, he hears the crunch of gravel, footsteps on the unsteady porch before the door opens, and Steve steps inside. Eddie watches as he sits the newest gift on the counter, before turning to leave, not even noticing him on the couch.
"Whatcha got there?" Eddie asks, and Steve jumps so high it's hilarious.
"Nothing," Steve says, defensive.
"Is it for me?" Eddie asks, singsonging. 
"Maybe," Steve says, putting his hands on his hips, "I thought you were supposed to be at work."
"Huh, I said that, didn't I?" Eddie questions, teasing him.
"You're an asshole," Steve says, but there's no heat there. 
"I just wanted to see if it was you, and surprise! It was."
"Very funny. I just wanted to do something nice for you without making a fuss, is that a crime now?" Steve asks, hands still on his hips, looking very annoyed by this entire situation.
"No, of course not," Eddie says, walking over and picking up the package, "can I open this?"
"After I leave you can," Steve says, a little haughtily. Eddie loves that bitchy tone. Steve's definitely bitchy at heart, and it is more attractive than you'd imagine.
Eddie doesn't listen, and just starts unwrapping the present. Pulling off the paper, and popping the tape on the box. 
It's a set of DnD dice. Metal, beautiful. He's never seen anything like them. He turns them over in his hand. 
"Wow, where did you get these?" Eddie asks, looking up to meet Steve's eyes. 
Steve crosses his arms across his chest, defensively. It's a weirdly hostile reaction. 
"A hobby shop. In Indianapolis. I special ordered them," he says.
"You special ordered them. For me?" Eddie asks, though the answer to that is fucking obvious. Of course he did.
"No, for Mike. Yes, for you."
"Why?" Eddie asks.
Steve rolls his eyes, "You know why."
"Do I?" Eddie asks, genuinely a little confused right now.
Steve looks exasperated. 
"The other four boxes are in my car. If you just want them now," Steve says, wilting, just a little. 
Eddie shakes his head. He doesn't want them now. He wants them for the next four days. He wishes he could go back and not do this. Not ruin this nice thing Steve was doing for him. 
"I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry I was here when you showed up. Thank you for thinking of me. For thinking of Hanukkah," Eddie rambles. 
Steve just nods, and turns to leave. 
"Steve?" Eddie says, trying to get him to stop.
Steve stops, but doesn't turn to look at him.
"I do know why. I do," he says.
Steve sort of hangs his head forward, like he's gotten bad news. This isn't bad news, Eddie thinks. This is great news. 
"And?" Steve says, so quietly he barely hears him. 
"And, I want that. Too. If you do," Eddie says, taking a step towards him, putting his hand on Steve's shoulder.
Steve does turn then, but still looks cautious. Embarrassed. Maybe even a little ashamed, and Eddie feels guilty. For putting him on the spot. For making him feel so uncomfortable. 
"I wasn't sure," Steve finally says, "if it was, you know, mutual."
"It is," Eddie says, quickly. Too quickly, but it makes Steve smile. 
"Okay. Okay, good," Steve says, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. 
Is this seriously Steve Harrington trying to woo someone? It's hilariously bad, Eddie thinks. 
But Eddie's impulsive, so he says, "Well, are you gonna kiss me or not, Big Boy?"
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unseededtoast · 7 months
Text
Light As A Feather | Spencer Reid x F! Reader
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Summary: The gravity of your job begins getting to you, and you come to realize you've forgotten how beautiful life can be. And one tranquil night, it's like Spencer is able to lift the weight and makes you feel light as a feather. Inspired by Hozier's "I, Carrion (Icarian)"
Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!
Word Count: 8.7k
Warnings: General violence, angst, pining. Poorly Edited
a/n: howdy folks. I'm still in my spencer reid/hozier brainrot era and so here's another. I hope you all enjoy it and thank you for all of the support I've received, it means the world!!
His presence is enough to make you forget about the horrors of the world, of your job. Right now, it's just you and him, and you've never felt lighter; so unburdened. You're convinced that if he wasn't there, holding onto you with his magnetic pull, that you may just float away in the breeze like a feather. 
You had never been to Colorado before, and now you wish you could be here under different circumstances. It's the beginning of fall and it seems as if the people of Boulder are head over heels in love with the season. Which is understandable, you think you'd love fall this much too if you lived in a place this beautiful. The trees are painted in vibrant shades of yellow, orange, and red and the distant mountains stand proudly in the background with their snow capped tops. Your eyes are glued to the lush landscape as the SUV drives through Boulder to reach your destination.
You, along with the rest of your team, were called by the Park Rangers from the Rocky Mountain National Park about a few bodies they had discovered. Your superior, Hotch, decided their case was odd enough for you all to pay a visit. At first you hadn't wanted to come, convinced that there would be something closer to home to tend to, but now you're glad you agreed to come. Fall time in Quantico just isn't as picturesque.
Eventually, the SUV you're crammed into alongside three of your other team members drives up a long winding driveway to a hidden cabin in the woods. Hotch had booked the place, seeing as how close it is to the National Park and how secluded it is from potential people of interest. Once again, you tried to argue that the cellphone reception would be terrible up here and that it might hinder the case, but you were outvoted, and the rest of the team wanted to stay here. You hadn't understood why, but when the venue comes into view your jaw almost drops and you understand.
The cabin isn't at all what you had been expecting. Instead of some run-down, small, stuffy house, you see a large, sprawling log mansion. There are large windows adorning the front, accompanied by a wraparound porch on the second level. It's very reminiscent of a tasteful ski lodge.
"Wow." You breathe out as the car comes to a stop outside the front door.
"Still think it's a bad idea?" Hotch smarts off as he opens the trunk and starts handing people their bags. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you grab your bag from him and stare up at your home for the next few days.
The rest of the team wastes no time in going inside to claim their room, but you're happy to meander around for a little bit to familiarize yourself with the layout. You'll let them fight over the rooms and take whatever is left. After all, in a place of this size, even the smallest room is bound to be plentiful.
As you go through the halls admiring the artwork on the wall you spot Spencer doing the same, staring at a particular painting on the wall. You take just a second to appreciate the way he looks, standing there and analyzing art. You've always had an appreciation for Spencer, and not just for his good looks, but also his intelligence and his company.
Since your first day at the FBI you've felt drawn to him, he made you feel important, and heard, when others dismissed you. In fact, he's the reason you're on the BAU team in the first place. He was the only one to recognize your abilities and talents. You try not to hold a grudge about the fact the rest of the team was ready to let you transfer out after your internship. But instead of standing there and gawking at him like some braindead fool, you walk up to him, setting your bag on the floor beside your feet.
You look at the painting that's caught his attention and try to see what he does, try to think about how he interprets it. His mind is an amazing, complex thing, and you hope that one day you'll be able to understand just a small portion of it. It's a painting of the Great Rocky National Park, you can tell from the mountain formation and the river running through it. The painting is almost an identical match, as if it's actually a picture rather than painting. However, there's one small spot on the painting that looks like it's been painted over and over, it sticks out to you.
"What do you think happened there?" You point out the flaw and look up to Spencer, whose eyebrows are drawn closely together as he leans in and looks at the spot. After a few moments of quiet reflection, he stands back to his full height.
"I'm not sure. It looks like maybe the painter had difficulties finding the right shade." He says, still staring at the spot. Your eyes linger on his face before tearing them away before he catches on.
"You're probably right. I'm going to go find what room they left me." You say, grabbing your bag from beside you. Spencer bends over to pick up his as well,
"I should probably do the same." A small smile adorns his face, and the two of you begin walking through the cabin to find the empty rooms the team left you. According to the venue's website there should be one room for each agent, and you're thankful for that. You had never been a fan of sharing room with your coworkers, something about it just feels wrong, but when there's no way to avoid it you endure without much fuss.
The two of you check every room on the first floor only to find that they had all been claimed, meaning you two had to climb the stairs for rooms on the second level. Of course the rest of them would all claim the first floor rooms first, nobody likes to bother with stairs first thing in the morning.
You and Spencer find the empty rooms, side by side with direct access to the porch. You suppose there are worse rooms to have. Eager to step out onto the porch, you toss your bag on the bed and open the sliding door. Colorado's crisp air envelopes you as you step out and you take a deep breath. The air out here feels so clean and refreshing. Great Rocky National Park is directly in front of the porch, giving you an eagle's eye view of a portion of it as you lean onto the banister. Might as well enjoy a little bit of peace before you start working the case.
-----
"Three women were found in the same spot days apart from each other. All bludgeoned and stabbed through the heart." The Park Ranger speaks, indicating to the crime scene that's been barricaded with yellow tape. The Ranger stares at the scene, which is now an inconspicuous patch of dirt and grass, as if there weren't several dead women resting here. The scene is right beside a big body of crystal blue water.
You hang back from the rest of the team, opting to look at the surroundings instead of the immediate scene. The team knows now that finding the tiny details is your forte, and they leave you to your own devices in the beginning of investigations. The cold breeze causes you to hold your too-thin jacket closer to your body as you begin your observations.
"They were all found in the same spot?" Hotch asks the Ranger, who confirms that all of the victims were found in the exact same spot. As you examine the landscape, your eyes narrow in an attempt to find even the subtlest detail. Before too long, you see something out of place in the lush grass and walk over to it while pulling on a pair of gloves.
There's a pamphlet laying in the grass and upon further examination you see that it's been marked up like someone gave the traveler directions. Directions right to this spot. The killer lured at least one victim here. This trail is far off the beaten path, it's not marked by the Rangers. Only someone familiar with the area would know about it.
"Look at this." You call out to your team, and soon a few of them join your side to examine what you found. Spencer and Morgan look over your shoulder at the pamphlet, which is in better condition than you would've thought considering it was laying in grass beside a body of water.
"They're familiar with the area, they had this planned." Spencer speaks up and you nod your head, agreeing with him. Morgan holds out an evidence bag once he's done looking at it and you slip it inside, protecting it from any further damage. Morgan walks off with the pamphlet, leaving you and Spencer together, both deep in thought.
"What have you come up with so far?" You ask softly, curious to see if his theories line up with yours. Spencer shifts his weight and sighs, looking back to the crime scene.
"The killer is organized. They lured at least one victim right to this spot, and I'm assuming they did the same with the others. And they had to have brought the weapons with them. While there are branches to bludgeon people with, there's no evidence of anything nearby being cut down recently. If they used a natural object, it's likely they would've tried to blend it back in with nature." He explains and you nod your head along with what he's saying as you observe the scene and the scenery surrounding you.
"Unless they tossed the weapon into the water. They could have easily used a rock to bludgeon the victims." You counter his explanation. Spencer and you always did this with one another when forming theories. Not as to dissuade, or prove the other wrong, but to make your theories and explanations stronger. It's one of the qualities you most like about him. His eyes drift to the water.
"They could have. But they had to have brought the knife, there's no natural substitute that would leave that precise of a wound." He says, and you relent, agreeing with him.
"I want to question the Rangers, get their work schedules, and see the call logs. I also want to know where the victims were staying and if there's any camera footage of them in the welcome center." You shiver with a gust of wind and hold your arms tighter around your body as you walk off to gather the information you want.
Spencer decides to join you in going to the welcome center, claiming that in a huge national forest that none of us should be traveling alone. He has a good point, but you wouldn't have objected to his company either way. The Ranger from the scene escorts you two to the welcome center in his cruiser, the warm air letting your fingers regain their feeling.
"Who found the bodies?" You ask as you hold your hands in front of the vent emitting warm air. The Ranger looks at you through the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again.
"I found one and Birch found the others during his patrols." He answers and you mentally make a note to find Birch.
"Is that area regularly patrolled?" You push further for more information and the Ranger shakes his head.
"No, it wasn't, until I found the first girl. She had to have been out there for at least three days. After that I sent Birch out to keep an eye on the area. He found victim two a couple days after the first, and found the third a single day after the second." He says and you look to Spencer, both noting the decrease in time between kills. A sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that if you don't find the killer soon, then you may be finding a fourth victim any day now.
Once you reach the welcome center, the Rangers are more than happy to provide you with the security camera footage, work schedules, call logs, and anything else you may need. In fact, it's Ranger Birch that hands over the information himself. He's a young man, maybe mid twenties, with meticulously groomed hair and pressed uniform pants.
"Thank you." You tell him with a warm smile, taking the footage and other information off the counter and into your hands. He nods back with a wide, white-toothed smile and tells you and Spencer to come back if you need anything else. The moment you step out of the welcome center you give Spencer a pointed look with a raised eyebrow.
"What do you think?" He asks you before you can ask him. You lick your lips and glance back into the welcome center, Ranger Birch still looking at you. Your eyes find Spencer's and you motion for him to follow you.
"I think he takes pride in both his appearance and work, and he knows the park well." Hotch pulls up in a black SUV to pick you and Spencer up to return you to the cabin, where the entire team will discuss what's been found so far.
-----
The trip up to the cabin only takes about ten minutes. Your mind works to put pieces of the puzzle together the entire trip back, but there's just not enough known information yet, and it bothers you. You like to have answers quickly because the faster you get answers, the less people will die. Your leg bounces up and down the entire way back, eager to begin deciphering the evidence.
The SUV comes to a stop outside the cabin and before Hotch can turn the car off, you're out and making your way to the entrance. A man dressed in a casual flannel shirt hunched over the flowerbeds stops you in your tracks before you get to the front door. He wipes the dirt from his landscaping gloves onto his worn overalls as he greets you.
"Good afternoon ma'am, I hope you enjoy your stay here. I'm James, I do the landscaping work around here and a few other cabins nearby." He offers you a warm smile, which you try your best to return, but your anticipation is causing you to become short.
"Nice meeting you." You go to walk into the cabin, but James' voice stops you once more. Spencer and Hotch approach, engaged in a conversation likely pertaining to what happened at the welcome center.
"Wait, ma'am. I never caught your name." James smile is reminiscent of an old friend, and he looks at you expectedly. Against your best wishes, you answer him, not wanting to be unnecessarily rude to your host.
"We'll, it's been a pleasure to meet you. Maybe I'll catch you around before you head out. Are you here for work?" He continues his conversation as Spencer and Hotch walk into the cabin undeterred by the landscaper. Maybe if you had just slowed down one of them would've been caught instead. James' eyes linger on the items in your hands.
"Yeah, the whole team is here for work." You answer, shuffling some items around in your grasp. James nods his head and tears his gaze away from the items, the warm smile returning to his face.
"Must be some important work if a whole team is here. By the looks of you all I'd say you're some sort of police." He guesses, eyeing the firearm that's strapped to your thigh. Your eyes narrow at the man, and you nod.
"Yeah, something like that. I really have to get going, they're probably waiting for me in there. Have a nice night, James." You find your exit route out of the conversation with the friendly mannered landscaper. As you step through the door you hear his voice call out to you once more.
"If there's anything I can do to help, number's in the guestbook." The door closes, and the conversation finally ends.
Taking a cleansing breath, you join the rest of the team who are all gathered around the rectangular dining table, which has been designated as the investigation headquarters. On the table are a slew of files, photos, and papers. You add the information gathered from the welcome center to that collection and Hotch starts the conversation.
Hotch reviews the known information and circulates photos of the victims. They're all beautiful young women, and according to Garcia, were staying at nearby resorts and cabins for vacation. The photos get passed to you and you look at them intently, committing to memory every detail you can absorb before you pass them along. It's obvious that these victims were chosen because of their physical appearance, they all share the same basic features such as hair color, eye color, and stature. And eerily, you seem to match the profile as well. 
"The physical appearance of the victim is important to the unsub. Having three victims with similar features is no mistake, nor is it a coincidence." You add to the conversation, seeing your team members look from you to the photos on the table. 
"Maybe the victims represent someone who scorned the unsub? Extracting revenge through them." Spencer suggests, and it's a good theory. You chew on the skin of your bottom lip as your mind races with theories and trying to piece the information together like a puzzle. 
After the general briefing, Hotch assigns Morgan and Prentiss to interview the Park Rangers to establish alibis, JJ and Garcia to continue conducting their online investigation, and Spencer and yourself to go over the welcome center footage. Hotch was going to speak to the people running the cabins the victims were staying at to see if there are any leads there. 
You and Spencer are on the second hour of footage when your eyes start becoming heavy. Reaching for the remote, you pause the footage and stretch, needing to take a break. 
"You want some coffee?" You ask him, needing something to keep yourself awake. He nods his head, 
"Yes, please." You stand from your seat and go to the kitchen to prepare the two of you some coffee. You're sure to put an ungodly amount of sugar in Spencer's, knowing that if you don't you'll hear him complain about it. And most times you enjoy the sound of his voice, but you don't know if you can stand hours of CCTV footage and him complaining about a lack of sugar right now.
You return to the table and place his mug in front of him, steam rising from it. You sip your own and resume your position at the table and reach for the remote. Spencer reaches for it at the same time, your hands brushing one another's. His hand is warm and soft, perfect for the chilly autumn air. 
"Sorry." You say, pulling your hand away and forcing any other thought than the footage from your mind, knowing that there's already a faint pink adorning your cheeks. No matter how long you've worked with him, even just simple touches is enough to send you spiraling if you let it. You try not to delve into what that might mean; you profile people for a living, the last thing you want to do is profile yourself. Without a word, Spencer just smiles back politely and presses play. 
The footage rolls and you two identify the victims who all showed up unaccompanied, which you find odd considering they were on vacation with their families. Your hand jots down quick notes in sloppy handwriting as you critically examine what you do, and don't, see in the footage. Spencer and you replay the footage showing the victims easily five times each, both silently taking notes, knowing you're going to compare soon. After watching the third victim's footage for the last time, you look over to Spencer, who's face is illuminated by the golden glow of the setting sun. 
"Do you want to go first?" He asks and you nod, trying not to stare at how the sunlight reflects the amber color in his warm prismatic eyes. You look down to your notes and try to get your thoughts straight before speaking. 
"I noted that all three victims walked into the welcome center with a pamphlet already in hand. None of them took the ones provided by the park. They all showed up alone. I can only assume that the unsub gave them the pamphlets with instructions on how to find the scene. Only, I'm willing to bet it was framed as a good-intentioned suggestion. There's no way those women would have gone if they didn't trust the unsub to some degree." Your eyes glance from your horribly written notes up to Spencer, who's leaning on the table, clinging to every word you say. He hums in consideration before he speaks up.
"I would agree. And if the victims were all staying at tourist destinations, those pamphlets were likely already there. So now the question is whether or not the unsub talked to them at their cabins or before they walked into the welcome center." He says, and a lightbulb goes off in your mind. 
"Wouldn't it make more sense for the unsub to speak to them at their cabins? I mean, if the unsub caught them in the parking lot there's a chance they might have their families with them. But if the unsub spoke to them at their cabins, the women might be persuaded to leave their families behind for some reason." You say, going with the logical deductions that pop into your mind. Spencer mulls over your words, his eyes narrowing, staring back at you in deep thought. 
"You're right. The unsub likely works for the resorts. It would give them access to the victims and it wouldn't be weird for them to give suggestions to guests." He confirms what you thought and you look back to the screen, seeing the third victim frozen in time. 
"We should let the team know." You say and Spencer nods. The two of you finish off your coffee and wait for the rest of the team to arrive. You're confident that the two of you have a solid lead on this case. You only hope you can find the unsub before there's a fourth victim.
-----
The sun sets on the scenic landscape and you lean against the banister of the wraparound porch. The rest of the team isn't back yet, and the last thing you want to do is stay inside when it's so beautiful out here. The snowcapped mountain in the distance gleams brilliantly, and it's almost blinding, but you can't look away. Sounds of water rushing and birds chirping fill the air and if you let your mind relax enough it's almost like you're not here to solve murders. 
Your head rests atop of your arms on the railing and you breathe in the cool air. The breeze gently blows your hair around, sending a shiver up your spine. You had severely underestimated how cold it would be here, and as a result, you failed to pack adequately because you were basing your packing off of Virginia fall time temperatures, which are noticeably warmer. 
The sliding door opens and you turn to see Spencer walking out of his room. He joins your side and leans forward on the railing, looking out at the breathtaking view. His curly brown hair gets blown into his face, and you have to stop yourself from reaching out and tucking it behind his ear. You're also enjoying the breathtaking view. 
He looks at peace, which is not something you usually see in him. His mind works overtime almost twenty four hours a day, especially on cases. It has to be torturous sometimes, to never get a reprieve from your own thoughts; and that's something you know all too well. There are some nights where you can't sleep because gruesome memories from the job haunt you. 
Noticing that you're staring at him, you turn your gaze back to the colorful trees. The two of you enjoy a moment of tranquility together, a rare moment in the fast-paced career you pursued. A bird flies by, and you can only imagine what that freedom feels like. Most times you feel like your job keeps you cemented in one place, always dealing with death and the most heinous monsters that reside in this world. You often forget just how beautiful and free life can be. 
A particularly crisp breeze comes through and you visibly shiver, which Spencer notices. Without a word, he goes into his room and comes back moments later with the throw blanket that was folded at the bottom of the bed. It's burnt orange in color and is made of faux fur, warm and soothing. Spencer drapes it over your shoulders and you hold onto the ends, keeping it secure around you. If you could stay in this moment forever, you would. 
Spencer stands so closely beside you that you feel his warmth coming through the blanket, and without much thought, or care, you lean into him just slightly. He makes no effort to move, and the two of you stay like that for what seems like an eternity. His warmth and his smell are so comforting and makes you feel safe. Deep down in your heart you know he makes you feel at home.
The two of you enjoy each other's company in a peaceful silence. There's never been the need to fill the silence with him, like there is the others. While you two are quite talkative in the team dynamic, when you find yourselves alone it's often relaxed with no expectations. You two talk when you want, or is needed, but when there's nothing to say you're more than happy to just be around him. And you hope he feels the same about you, and you think he does, but you're never brave enough to ask for fear of ruining whatever relationship it is that you two share.
Sighing, you cuddle yourself further into the blanket as the sun dips lower and lower, the golden hue turning orange. Spencer moves beside you, and you see his fingers twitch, like he was going to reach out for something but doesn't. Your head turns to look at him above you, and his head lowers, so that your eyes meet one another. 
You had always known his eyes were beautiful, but up this close you can truly admire the depth of them. The golden hues remind you of the sunsets, the green in them is like the rich moss that adorns the sides of the rocks; or like the pine needles on the tall trees, and the brown is reminiscent of swirling espresso. Taken aback from his closeness and the heat creeping up your spine, your lips fall open and his eyes glance between them and your eyes. He's so close to you, your bodies practically pressed against one another. You feel yourself being drawn to him, like he has his own magnetic pull. 
But whatever was about to happen is cut short by the rest of the team arriving back to the cabin. You and Spencer seem to come back to reality and step away from one another. Flustered, you unwrap the blanket from your shoulders and hand it back to him, already missing the warmth.
"Thank you." Your voice is soft and tender, and his hand brushes your own as he grabs the blanket from you. 
"Of course." He smiles softly back, and the two of you part ways to join the rest of your team downstairs to catch up on the latest information. But you can barely pay attention to what is being said, for your mind is drowning with flashes of Spencer out on the porch. 
-----
The next morning you wake up as the sun shines in through the windows, illuminating the room beautifully and warmly. Hotch had given everyone the night to mull over the information and said that the investigation will pick right back up in the morning. After you get dressed and ensure your service weapon is properly attached to the harness around your thigh, you make your way down the stairs for a morning cup of coffee. Morgan, Prentiss, and Hotch are already sat at the table, picking at some toast for breakfast as they get the sleep rid from their systems. 
You make a cup for yourself and Spencer, knowing he will be up any moment now. As per usual, too much sugar gets put into his and then you pour your own. The warm drink calms your nerves and you close your eyes, trying to get your mind prepared for whatever the day may bring. You know there may very well be a fourth victim found soon and you need to be on the top of your game to find the unsub.
"Good morning." A raspy voice makes your eyes open, and you see Spencer walking into the kitchen, dressed in a button up and tie. It's quite casual for him, but you like it, it looks nice on him. 
"Good morning, made yours right here." You say and nod over to the mug on the counter. He looks from you to the mug with a smile on his face.
"Thanks." He says, and the two of you stay in the kitchen, sipping on your coffee and waiting for Hotch to give everyone orders. 
"Feeling good about today?" It's something you always ask when an investigation seems to be coming to a close. You think it sets a tone, an expectation that the team will succeed. Spencer sips his drink and nods, 
"I feel good about today." He confirms, flashing his bright white smile. 
Last night, after the team had arrived, Hotch had shown everyone the list of employees from the neighboring resorts and cabins and today the team will be interviewing those employees. You're convinced the unsub has to be on that list and you intend to find out who it is. The questions have already been sorted in your mind, though you're able to adapt to anyone's personality and are prepared to get answers. 
"Same teams as yesterday, we're going to divide and conquer." Hotch says, handing each team a list of names. You look down at the list he handed you and see that there are a total of fifteen employees for the small resort that you and Spencer are covering. It catches your attention that seven of the fifteen are women, and you mentally place them lower on your suspect list. This doesn't seem like a crime women usually commit, no, this seems like the work of a man as evidenced by the brute force used. 
Morgan and Prentiss take off in one car, Hotch takes another, leaving you and Spencer with your own SUV. The two of you gather your needed materials, such as photos and notepads, before you head out. Spencer grabs the keys and tells you that he's going to warm up the car as you finish organizing your things, and you're grateful for that. Sitting in a cold car doesn't really appeal to you right now. 
Once you're content with the items you've chosen to bring along you head out of the cabin. The bright light almost blinds you, and you squint in order to see. From the corner of your eye you see something move, and when you turn to look you see it's the landscaper from the other day, already flagging you down. Resisting the strong urge to just ignore him, you wait for him to reach you on the porch steps. He looks like he's already been hard at work today, he's covered in dirt and sweat. 
"Well good mornin'. Got anything interesting going on today?" He asks, shielding his eyes from the light with his gloved hand. You shift your weight and look to the running SUV, already planning your escape route out of this conversation. 
"Uh, yeah, you could say it'll be an interesting day." You reply as politely as you can. James smiles widely at your response. 
"What sort of thing you have planned?" He asks and you sigh, not wanting to be part of this conversation any longer. 
"I'm not at liberty to say, but I've gotta go, my partner is waiting for me." You excuse yourself from the conversation before he can get another word in. From behind you, you hear him say. 
"Well alright then, I'll be around if you need anything." As you slide into the driver's side of the car and hand your bag to Spencer, you see the man heading back to the tool shed. 
"That's twice now that he's singled me out." You say, keeping your eye on him for a moment longer, watching his moves. The fact that you match the victim profile is not lost on you, and you think it might be making you just slightly paranoid.
"I noticed that too. Could be that you were the first one there the last time, and the last one out this time, but it's definitely something to keep note of." Spencer says as you drive off to the tiny resort the two of you had been assigned. You know he might be right, but the man went out of his way to flag you down this morning and completely ignored everyone else. An uneasy feeling in your stomach tells you that the landscaper should be looked into more thoroughly. 
When you and Spencer reach the resort you waste no time in beginning your investigations. The two of you are laser focused on the task at hand, and agree to split the list equally. Spencer volunteered himself to question the extra person. Luckily, the front desk attendant was more than helpful and secured two rooms for the interviews to be conducted. 
The first four interviews go by without incident, all front desk attendants and kitchen workers who have no indication of manipulative traits and answer your questions openly. You've done this enough times to spot exactly what you're looking for, you know what gets under the skin of unsubs, especially the organized ones who think they have it all figured out. 
A couple other interviewees give you good information about the victim who stayed here. They tell you how they remember seeing her with her family in the hall, and how nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the room when it was cleaned. Hotch had questioned the families last night, and cleared them from the suspects list. 
By the time you reach the end of your list, you know you can safely cross every one of them off. None of them responded to the misinformation you sprinkled in the questions, things the unsub would've been known to be untrue. And none of them had any sort of reaction to you insulting the intelligence of the unsub, something that would have surely set them off in some way. But to your dismay, none of them had any clue of who could be capable of this kind of malice. Typically, there's at least one person who's able to spot something weird about someone, but not this time. 
You group back up with Spencer, the two of you comparing notes in the room he used for his questioning. He had the same results as you and you both were hoping someone else on the team was more successful. 
"We got all of them except for James Hilton. The others said he bounces around to each place and some days he's not even here." Spencer says, pointing out the only uncrossed name from the list. 
"James Hilton. That's the landscaper." You say, barely able to recall his name from yesterday. The uneasy feeling in your stomach grows. 
-----
In the afternoon, the team reconvenes in the cabin around the table to compare findings. Every other agent was able to interview everyone but James Hilton. Granted, his job requires him to go from location to location, but it seems like he's been hanging out around this cabin often. However, he was nowhere to be found when everyone came back. But maybe he went to another location to work on their flowerbeds. 
"We'll need to get his statement today. Anyone up to track him down?" Usually you volunteer to go after someone like this, but something is telling you not to, and you listen to your instincts. Thankfully Morgan offers to track him down, and Prentiss joins him once more. You pick at a piece of paper on the table as your mind works, mulling over what you know about the case and the overly-friendly landscaper. 
Before Morgan and Prentiss leave, Spencer informs the team about the conversations that James has dragged you into. You tell them exactly what happened, and they all agree that it seems suspicious. Hotch goes off to make some calls to JJ and Garcia, leaving you and Spencer at the table. 
"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asks, leaning forward on the table. His voice snaps you out of your trance and you cease to fiddle with the paper. 
"Me? Yeah I'm fine, why?" You ask, not sure why he's concerned. He looks conflicted, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he answers. 
"Well, it's just that you fit the victim profile and the conversations with the landscaper seem to be suspicious. And you keep playing with the paper which is an indication of anxiety." He says, trying his best to not profile you in front of your face. 
"Spencer, I'm okay, promise. I was just thinking." You tell him, and it's the truth. While James makes you feel uneasy, you're confident that nothing will happen to you. Spencer nods and you stand from the table, wanting to inspect the cabin with finer detail and stretch your legs. 
After going from room to room looking for the tiniest thing that might be relevant to the case, you find yourself staring at the same photo that caught Spencer's eye when you all first arrived. There's something about it, something about the discolored spot, that you just can't let go of. It's bothering you for some reason. Frustrated, you take it off the wall and bring it to where Spencer is in the main living area, nose in a book. He looks up from the page when he hears you coming, his eyebrows scrunching closely together. 
"What are you doing?" He asks, putting the book on a side table. You place the painting on the large coffee table and put your hands on your hips. 
"There's something about this that's driving me insane." You say, eyes drifting from Spencer's face to the painting. It takes Spencer all of ten seconds to analyze the painting again. 
"It's the same place the bodies were found." He says and your eyes widen, taking in the scene again and realizing he's right. 
"Wait. If this is the same place the bodies were found, then that, is the exact spot they were in." You say, pointing to the discolored spot. The discoloration is where the grass meets the water, the mountain in the background. Your eyes drift to the bottom corner of the painting where you see a cursive 'J' painted in white. 
"Do you think the killer is the one who painted this?" Spencer asks you, and you nod. 
"I'm sure of it. There's a J painted in the corner. It has to be Hilton. Can you call Garcia?" You ask, mind feeling like it's running a marathon. Spencer doesn't hesitate to get Garcia on the phone. 
"Hello my beautiful boy genius, what can I do for you today?" Penelope's voice sounds throughout the room and you smirk at her entertaining phone greeting. 
"Hello my beautiful computer genius, can you do me a favor?" You speak first and you can hear her laugh through the phone. 
"Oh my darling anything for you." Her voice is melodic and you shake your head at her antics. You love Garcia, she's one of your closest friends inside and outside of work. 
"Can you find anything on a James Hilton from the Boulder, Colorado area?" You ask her, knowing your answer is about to be served on a silver platter in just a few moments. Garcia's quick typing echoes through the phone. 
"James Hilton, born and raised in Boulder. Has been working as a property manager for the last ten years at the property you all are staying at. Has one traffic record from the nineties, but other than that he's clean." She says, but you were hoping for something more incriminating. 
"Anything about a wife, or a girlfriend? Maybe even a sister or mother?" You ask her, staring down a the painting. 
"It looks like he was in a long term relationship with Valerie Wilson, also of Boulder. But according to her Facebook page, they are over with." She says, Spencer and you looking at each other, knowing you may have just found a potential piece of the puzzle. 
"Perfect. Can you tell me what she looks like and how to contact her?" You ask and write down the details Garcia recites. After you get the needed information, Spencer hangs up and calls Hotch to inform him of what the two of you just found out. Hotch tells us that he's on his way back to the cabin after he's done with the last interview. 
The painting lays in front of you two, and you take a seat on the arm of the chair Spencer is sitting in, your leg brushing up against his and your arm resting behind his head to keep yourself stable. Your eyes are glued to the discoloration, and you know there's just something about it that's more than just not being able to find the right shade. 
"Is there a way to see if something has been painted over?" You ask Spencer rather than Googling it, knowing he can probably get you an answer faster. He clears his throat and nods his head.
"A few years ago it was found that Vincent Van Gogh painted over several of his works due to the cost of canvas. Experts used x-ray to see through the layers, revealing the original painting." His answer is exactly what you were looking for.
"We have to get this thing x-rayed. And someone needs to contact Valerie and ask her about her relationship with James. His tool shed should be examined as well" You jump off the chair's arm, ready to leave immediately, but having to wait for Hotch before you can proceed with anything else. 
-----
Hours later, your leg is bouncing up and down, eagerly awaiting the results of the x-ray. The hospital staff had never encountered something quite like this, but you were thankful that they were cooperative. Spencer had come along with you while Hotch stayed back to get in contact with Valerie. You check your phone every ten seconds to see if you have a new message for him, but your screen is blank.
Thankfully, a few minutes later an x-ray technician comes out and beckons you to a dark room where she clips the x-ray images onto a lightboard. While the images aren't in color, you can still see exactly what you need to. The images show that where the discoloration is, there used to be a woman standing and a man on one knee. A gasp leaves your mouth, the pieces finally fitting together in your mind. Without a doubt, James is the unsub. 
Spencer and you race back to the cabin and spill the findings to the rest of the team. Hotch informs you that Valerie had confirmed that James recently proposed, but she turned him down. All of the victims match her appearance. He must have been killing to fulfill some sort of revenge he felt was necessary. 
The team calls each of the resorts that James is employed at only to find that he's not at any of them. While the others scramble to try and find a way to find him, your eyes land on the guestbook. 
"Guys. I can call him. He told me his number is in the guestbook and we know I fit the profile. He won't be able to help himself." You say, and the others don't have any good reason as to why you shouldn't do it. Your hands shake from the adrenaline as you dial the numbers and the phone rings, your heartbeat resounding in your ears. You're so close to catching this depraved man. 
"Hello?" He answers finally. You let go of a breath you weren't aware you were holding and speak up.
"Hi James, you told me to call you if I needed help with anything. And, um, I think I might have broken one of the outside lights." You quickly come up with a lie, hoping to lure him out here for the arrest. You hear him moving around on the other end and the start of an engine. 
"Of course, I'll be there in just a moment, honey." He says and you hang up the phone, trying not to gag from his pet name. 
It takes James all of fifteen minutes to reach the cabin. When he pulls up, the entire team is waiting for him, but you were the one with cuffs in your hands. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Hotch and Morgan were out the door ordering him to the ground. With smug satisfaction, you step over the man and secure his hands in cuffs behind his back. 
As the local police show up to take him away, he's spitting every expletive in the book at you. Rage and hatred show themselves very clearly on his face, and you see who he really is. You smile sickly sweet at him as he's shoved into the back of the cop car. Another monster off the street, unable to do harm to another woman. It's like a weight gets lifted from your shoulders. 
-----
After the excitement of the arrest, you come down off your adrenaline rush. The rest of the team are packing, getting ready to leave in the morning, but you can't find it within yourself to do it. You're too struck by the beauty in front of you to worry about going back home. You just don't want to part with this yet. So you find yourself out on the wraparound porch once more, the sun retreating far too quickly behind the horizon for your liking. 
Despite the waning sun, the landscape looks brighter, more vibrant now that you know that the killer is in custody. Usually, the team gets only a few hours of celebration before you're saddled with paperwork and the next case. A bird flies past again, and you appreciate its freedom again. Its sweet melodies carry in the breeze and soothes your weary soul. 
You love your job, you can't imagine doing anything else, but it does wear on you. Both physically and mentally. Before you had started working with the team, you never could have imagined the kind of evil lurking everywhere, even in a place as gorgeous as this. But now, it's like wherever you look, no matter how beautiful the surroundings, you can always spot something amiss. You feel weighted by the knowledge of what reality actually is. 
The familiar sound of the sliding door catches your attention, and you see Spencer coming towards you, blanket in hand. A smile finds its way onto your face as he closes the distance between you, securing the blanket around your shoulders. Just like yesterday, he stands right beside you, admiring the view. 
"The others are all leaving tonight, they said they want to get a headstart on the papers. But I told them we'd go back in the morning." His voice is raspy, yet soft.
"But what about the plane?" You ask, eyebrows knitting together. He shrugs his shoulders and looks down at you. 
"I told them we'd fly back in the morning, already have the tickets arranged." He says, easing some of your anxiousness, but not satisfying your curiosity.
"Why?" You search for the answer on his face. 
"Because I saw how much you like it here. You deserve one workless night." He says with sincerity and your heart swells at the sentiment. You fully turn towards him, soft blanket draped lightly across your shoulders. You notice that Spencer has traded his button up for a simple pullover. Something so simple has never looked so good before. 
"Thank you, you really didn't have to-" He cuts you off with a smile, 
"I know, but I wanted to." He admits, pink coloring his cheeks. You stare up at him in awe, not quite sure what you did to deserve his thoughtfulness. Not being able to hold back your affections, you reach out and engulf him in a hug. 
"Thank you, Spencer." You reiterate into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you. After a few fleeting, precious moments, you let go of him. Staring up into his eyes, you reach a hand up and stroke the soft skin of his cheekbone with your thumb. He doesn't flinch from your touch like he does with others, no, he leans into it as if he's savoring the feeling.
His arm that was around your waist come up to cup your cheek, and he gently brings your face towards his, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You hold him close, a flurry of warmth spreading from your face down to your body. His other hand finds its way around your waist, securing you to his body. 
You break the kiss as your chest begins burning with the need of oxygen, and he rests his forehead against yours. Your hands come up to gently grasp the sides of his face, keeping him in place so that you can admire his beauty. After minutes pass by in silence as you two appreciate each other, Spencer tilts his head up and kisses your forehead. 
He turns you around so that you're facing away from him, and he grabs the blanket from around your shoulders. Seconds later, you feel him standing behind you, wrapping the soft blanket around the both of you. His chest is behind you, and he hands you the edges of the blanket so that his hands might find the soft curve of your waist. Spencer pulls you in to him so that you're leaning back on his chest. 
His presence is enough to make you forget about the horrors of the world, of your job. Right now, it's just you and him, and you've never felt lighter; so unburdened. You're convinced that if he wasn't there, holding onto you with his magnetic pull, that you may just float away in the breeze like a feather. 
Spencer rests his head atop of yours as the two of you relax your minds and bodies, focusing solely on each other and the scene in front of you. Your hands come down to entwine themselves with his with a soft smile on your face. 
A lone tear falls from the corner of your eye as you're overcome with emotion. You cannot recall a single time in your life that you've felt this serene, where everything just feels perfect. Your soul is well nourished and full from Spencer alone. All of those cases you worked together, the stolen glances across the office, the simple acts of kindness and thoughtfulness for each other has culminated to this one precious moment in time; and you've never felt more content. 
The sun eventually sets behind the horizon, the chilly breeze billowing the blanket around you both. Above you in the sky, the stars shine brightly, and you tip your head back to admire them. You can never admire their true beauty in Quantico, their shine is dulled by light pollution, but you can see them clearly here. You can see everything clearly here.
"You know, scientists estimate that there are about two hundred sextillion stars in the sky within the Milky Way." Spencer whispers in your ear as you two bask in their soft white light. You turn around in his hold and smile up at him, 
"And yet none shine as brilliantly or as beautifully as you." You say, and pull him in for another soft, heartfelt kiss. As you pull away, you watch as his eyes flutter open and he smiles endearingly. You've never seen such a beautiful sight, never felt comfort as warm as him, and you know as you lean into his embrace, that you will not bear the weight of this world or this life alone. 
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wannaeatramyeon · 10 months
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You hit the nail on the head! I‘ll ask for more professional assessment: honest opinion on Crystal?
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Following on from my ramblings about Sally Park. Oops! Edited to add in Zoe too.
Well written female characters in Lookism? Uhh...
When the bar is at an all time low, it's really not hard to step over it.
At this point, I've been pavloved to think that any female character that expresses a personality trait other than 'simp' is pretty good. Simp is fun when it's part of a list of characteristics (Zack, Ryuhei). Not so much when it's the only thing.
Long live PTJ, the greatest feminist. Anyway.
Female characters I like
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Mary Kim
Love her. Empress of 2 seconds. Queen of my heart.
Surprisingly kept a platonic relationship with Vin Jin, showing quite a healthy mixed gender friendship. Sassy and smart. Loyal. Good taste in men (Jace). Is shown having a life and interests outside of a man.
On my hands and knees praying that PTJ doesn't ruin her. Kinda glad she hasn't appeared in a while so she is kept away from his incessant need to turn everyone into a love interest.
Lua Im
Once we got over the odd Johan panels, which I heard the Korean audience didn't like and I'm quite happy about, she's fine. And it's not that I care that much about Johan staying a single dog-dad, I just needed a coherent reasoning/build up why they would be interested in one another.
Lua has potential.
Sourcing intel, even impressing the likes of Gun? A little Muay Thai knowledge? Jake and Jerry scared of her? Lol. Ok. Good. Let's build on this.
Just please don't white knight her.
Crystal Choi (meh)
And Ms. Choi, because anon specifically asked. I really don't mind her? I know she's meant to be anti-Lookism but still judges people based on their looks eh. That's fine. Pretty realistic actually. Whatever.
She can be a bit bitchy for no reason. So can I. Handwaving all that.
What I do take issue with though, is her so called title of Business Genius. Please show me the chapter where she actually does something to earn that title besides the one where other people ooh-ed and aah-ed over her in the meeting with DG.
Wow she's sooooo gorgeous. Ok good for her. If that's the route they're taking her character then at least OWN. THAT. SHIT. Use her beauty and looks to sign deals and get what she wants. GOOD. DO IT.
Zoe Park (also meh... Wait)
Sorry anon, I think 'really well written' is a bit of a reach... She does have some decent character development, starting as quite a flighty, shallow girl and then showing that she has a heart of gold, liking both Daniels and. Huh.
Wait. You're right. She is pretty well written. She's selfless and kind and loyal to her friends, putting up with Logan's bullshit. There's enough of a character arc for her from the Zoe we're introduced to at first.
And I do like that she's good at maths too.
Wasted potential
Minseong Kang (Jake's momma)
Appreciate this is the older generation and from a much more conservative culture. Saying that, I am so over the slighted and bitter housewife rotting at home while her big powerful husband cheats on her.
And then some sort of marriage redemption cos they pop out a kid. Whatever. (Sorry Jake bb, I love you).
If you were going to do that, give me the most toxic red flag shit where they are constantly at each other's THROATS. Show me how they are equals. Can't live with or without one another. That's the good kinda shit.
Leonn Lee
I just. What the fuck was this.
A girl in Burn Knuckles? A group that reeks of testerone and (positive) masculinity? Show us why she joined! Show us why she stays. SURPRISE. Main character trait?? Having a crush on Vasco.
She could have been SO interesting. And she obviously trains, why not get her to fight?
Hate for irrational reasons
Joy Hong
Listen, she's not really in enough or significant enough for me to really feel one way or another about her. BUT. The reason I HATE her is because I was trying to write a headcanon involving everyone and then I got to Joy and I was STUMPED.
Sub in a plank of wood, and it would have the same depth of personality.
Truly. Who is she apart from Jay's sister and a Daniel simp? At least everyone else has something.
Others
I don't really think about them. Sera Shin has potential I guess.
And of course a special mention to Daniel's momma. She's not exactly a unique character, but who doesn't love her?
LET. THEM. FIGHT.
Lastly. Why can't we see women fight? Like the men's fights are realistic LOL. Ultra instinct? Smashing through walls? So why are women fighting men outside the realms of this.
And yes yes. Men are SoOoOoOo strong. But can they take a kick to the balls?
Are you saying Gun Park has been training his dick and balls and would be able to eat a hit there? He wouldn't go down like a heap of shit??
HUH. TELL ME THAT.
In Summary
Mary by and large is pretty well written. Lua has improved.
I don't care much about anyone else.
And I wanna see Gun, Goo, Sammy, Vin etc. get kicked in the balls in a fight.
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