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harlowsbby · 4 months

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Days With U 💘

Requested, reader just tagging along with Jack while he runs errands or does things for work.

You loved spending with Jack with his busy schedule having quality time together was really hard at times, so when you woke up this morning and decided to tag along with him while he ran a few errands he was actually really excited.

“You sure you’re ready for today baby?” Jack asked you as the two of you got into his car.

“More than ready.” You grinned and pulled your little purse out from the back.

“I packed me a few snacks and took like two or three water bottles.” You paused. “What are we even doing today?” You asked him.

“We?” He chuckled. “Well I have a meeting first, then a little photo shoot and lastly I need to do this interview with Druski.”

“Interview with Druski? What’s that about.” You asked him as the two of you drove down the road.

“We’re just going to be playing this game called ‘never have I ever’ for Spotify and that’s it, after I’m finished we can do whatever you want.” He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows.

“So you’ll massage my feet?” He smacked his teeth.

“That isn’t what I had in mind babe but if that’s what you want, I’ll do it.” He grumbled.

After a few minutes went by you both finally arrived to the studio we’re the meeting was going to take place.

Urban did a double look upon seeing you entering the studio.

“What are you doing here? The evil step father finally let you out of the house.” He faked gasped and brought you in for a hug.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah right I can’t even keep her in the house she’s always out spending all my money.” He joked.

“So maybe it is a good thing that you came today.” He laughed but earned an elbow to his side making him hiss slightly.

“Actually I had nothing to do today so I decided to tag along with Jack.” You smiled.

“So go ahead and do your little meeting, I’ll just be on the couch eating my snacks.” You told them.

Once you got settled and comfortable the meeting started to take place. You tried paying attention to the meeting but honestly it was boring.

Jack looked up and saw that you were already looking up at him. He raised his eyebrows and started to wiggle them a bit making you stiff a laugh.

But he could tell by bore expression displayed on your face that you were starting to get bored.

“What’s wrong?” He mouthed.

“Just a bit bored.” You mouthed back. He frowned slightly he didn’t want you to be bored so he knew he had to try and do something to entertain you.

“So for the next tour should we do meet and greet?” Nemo asked the group.

Everyone looked around not exactly sure if a meet and greet was needed or not, Jack looked back over to you as you looked out the window.

“What do you think babe?” He asked you which caught you a bit off guard.

“What? Oh uh I feel like we should do a meet and greet, I think the fans would really enjoy that.” You suggested and everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

“I agree with Y/N.” Urban said you looked up at Jack and he sent a wink your way.

“Why don’t you come sit by us Y/N you can help with a few other things.” Nemo said and you immediately took a seat next to Jack.

“You still bored?” He whispered into your ear.

“Nope.” You grinned and started discussing Jack’s next tour.

Jack was glad he was able to somewhat cure your boredom with allowing you to engage into the conversation, because he loved hearing your ideas and thoughts.

Once the meeting was over you said bye to everyone as you made your way into the car. “So, photo shoot time?” You asked.

“Actually the photo shoot and the interview with Druski got pushed back to tomorrow looks like we can do whatever we want now. You got any ideas?”

You thought about it for a few seconds. “Actually since I ran a few errand with you.” You said in a teasing tone. “You ran one errand with me babe.” Jack piped in.

“Okay whatever but I do need to get a few things at Sephora, Target and I wanna stop by Dunkin Donuts.” Jack mentally rolled his eyes but nonetheless started driving to Sephora.

When you arrived your eyes were literally as big as a kids eyes in a candy store. “I don’t even know what half of this shit is.” He mumbled.

“Want me to show you? Ooo we can see what shade you are in foundation.” You squealed. “In what?” He asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you guys need help?” One of the employees asked. “Actually yes can you match my boyfriend please?” The employee smiled and nodded.

“You’re being forced to do this?” The lady asked. “Was it that obvious?” He mumbled.

“Of course.” Jack stood there as the lady scanned his face before going into one of the drawers and pulling out a foundation.

“This one would be your match.” She handed Jack the foundation and walked away.

“Damn, you really are pale as shit.” You mumbled as you inspected the very, very bright foundation in his hands.

“Let’s not do too much let’s start heading to Target.” When the two of you finished at Sephora you made your way to Target.

While Sephora was your playground Target was Jack’s playground. You watched with slight wide eyes as he tossed in a few things into the cart.

“Do we really need all of this Jack?” You asked as he tossed in a bunch of random things.

“Look baby I don’t question all the makeup you get so don’t question all of the things I need.” He stated and you raised your hands in defense.

“My bad but seriously let’s go I’m getting hungryy.” You whined. After Jack went and checked out everything the two of you headed to Morris Deli.

“You want what I get babe?” Jack asked. “Yeah that’s fine but also I want a bag of chips and a sweet tea.” You told him.

Jack went in line and waited for the food once it was ready the two you started to dig in. You both ate in a peaceful silence till Jack spoke up.

“So, did you have a good day?” He questioned. “It was a fun day but you wanna know what my favorite part was?”

He raised his eyebrow. “What would that be?”

“When you fell face first in Target that shit was hilarious.” You laughed.

“It’s the way the soccer moms looked so irritated over the fact that you fell!” You laughed even harder as Jack sat there with an annoyed expression.

“Can you believe one of them came up to me while you were looking at pajamas and said that I was interrupting her shopping.” He stated which made you laugh even harder.

“Alright now baby it ain’t that funny.” He grumbled. Even though Jack was trying his hardest not to laugh he just couldn’t hold it in.

He loved little days like this with you just being able to spend a little time together and winding down together was his favorite thing to do as long as he was with you.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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sinsinsininning · 2 months

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A little bit softer

Chapter 7

Eustass Kid x crewmate!fem!reader

TW: drinking, cursing

Sorry it’s been so long for an update, work and life have been crazy and I barely got this chapter written.

—————

Your group tried to ask for details of your conversation with Jon, but you didn’t let them know anything.

Those rat bastards couldn’t be trusted.

In an effort to stave off boredom and suspicion, you hopped from group to group. Taking time to visit with everyone and practice a little flirting, not that you needed it but it passed the time. Wire was probably your most common victim tonight, though he gave as good as he got.

“Aw come on Wire! You can’t be calling it off already.” You pout when he announces his last round of the night, it wasn’t even that late. He pats your cheek softly and gave you a smile.

“As much as I’d love to stay darling, there’s a handsome young man I’ve had my eye on and I think we’re about ready to go.” He consoles you, giving you a small kiss on the top of your head. You’re giggling as he saunters off to find his date for the night, leaving you with Killer alone.

You don’t spend much time with Killer one on one, he’s a very stoic and closed off person, even more so in public. Despite his mother hen type personality, he was probably the crew member you talked to the least, except maybe Kid. Still you felt bad leaving him alone right as soon as Wire’s gone, although he probably wouldn’t mind.

The two of you sit together, sipping your drinks as you watch the crowd. You’ve switched to straight soda now to avoid getting any sloppier and it seems to’ve helped a little.

“So…. what’s your type?” Killer suddenly asks.

You choke on your drink for a moment, he pats you on the back roughly. After a little coughing, you burst out laughing.

“Where’d the fuck did that come from?”

“Curious.”

“Mhmm yeah sure. Curious.” You roll your eyes. “Doesn’t have anything to do with trying to get me and the Captain together?”

“You’ve noticed that?” You’re surprised that he’s surprised, you start laughing again.

“Yeah I have! You’re not subtle, none of you are subtle!” You gesture widely to the crowd, no one pts you any mind.

“You never answered.” He reminds you.

“Oh is it First mate’s order then?” You chuckle, blowing bubbles into your drink.

“Yes.” You’d throw your drink at him if you thought you could win the ensuing scuffle.

“You first.” You face him, giving him all of your attention, chin propped up on your hand as you watch him tense up. “What’s your type, Killer?”

His neck is red, you realize with glee. Your normally unflappable first mate was blushing. Part of you is a little sad you didn’t picture him the other night in the showers, but you tried to push that thought from your mind. You didn’t wanna end up with a red face as well.

“I uh- asked first.” He coughs and turns his head.

“Come on! You’re asking me I think I should get something in return.” You whine, it apparently works on him- not shocking.

“Fine, I like short women, with bright hair. Like pink or blue.” He finally answers. You start to get up and he shouts after you. “Where’re are you going?”

“To find pink hair dye!” You cackle, trying to dip into the crowd and lose him, but he’s faster and soon you have a large hand gripping the back of your chest harness.

“Nice try. Was funny though.” He easily carries you back, about to set you down when a shout stops him.

“Oi the fuck you doing with her?”

Blocking your path to the booth is Kid, glowering at Killer as you dangle from his hand. Behind him is the same pretty lady from before, her eyes are wide as she looks between you and Killer. You wave to her with a bright smile, she waves back slowly.

“She thinks she’s funny and trying to run off.” Killer says, not belying the real story. “I’m bringing her back to the booth.” Kid just looks annoyed now, his eyes on you now.

“You’re causing a lot of fucking trouble today.”

You just grin at him, still feeling energized from messing with Killer.

“Hey, you good?” The woman behind him asks, her eyes are only on you. You recognize this look, Hop has taught you Girl Code before and you’ve definitely done it as well.

“Shit I forgot you were there.” Kid mumbles, but Killer is watching her intently, his hand on you is tense. Your smile brightens even more.

“I’m good, my buddy is just mad I won’t wing man for him.” You give her a thumbs up before Killer drops you suddenly. Kid’s hand is quick to snatch you by the front of your harness, before you hit the ground, it’s only a moment before he sets you down. A little flustered by all the movement you try to smile at her again. “I like your hair, very pretty blue.” She smiles genuinely now.

“Thank you! I like yours too.”

You grin up at Killer and back at Kid, a plan on you mind now. A quick glance at the clock tells you you’ve only got 10 minutes left.

“Hey Boss, I forgot I had some shit to go over with ya.” You step over to her and gesture back to Killer. “Cool if we trade? I promise he’s good company.”

The woman grins at you, getting what you mean. She leans forward in an exaggerated manner to whisper in your ear.

“Thanks, the redhead is a little boring so good luck.” You both giggle and trade spots, she immediately is tugging Killer off to a new table. It doesn’t take much for him to follow her.

“The fuck just happened?”

“Sorry Boss, had to help Killer out and get him off my back.” You didn’t think he’d actually be mad, he seemed to be barely aware of her existence. He confirms it by sitting where Killer had and downing the rest of his friend’s drink.

“Meh it’s fine,” Kid shrugs, not particularly concerned. You check the clock again, 4 minutes to go. “What was he bitching about now?”

“Hmm?” You turn away from the clock to scan the crowd for Jon. “Oh uh he was asking me about weird stuff.”

“Weird stuff? The hell does that mean?” He looks over the crowd now to see what you’re looking at. His fingers snap in front of your face. “Hey pay attention.”

“He was asking about my type and shit.” You we’re distracted and couldn’t think of a lie, plus you wanted to see how’d Kid react. It was instantaneous, your captain went red faced and stiff, you kinda liked it.

Knock that off and look for Jon.

Kid didn’t say anything for a moment, just watching you for a moment as you kept looking around. Finally he stood up, catching your attention as he came around to your side, he pulled on your wrist gently.

“Let’s go. Outside.” You didn’t move for a moment, confused, he didn’t pull harder or let go. Just stared down at you.

“Oh I’m actually wait-”

“I know who you’re waiting for.” He cuts you off, scowling now as he tugs on your wrist again. “Outside. Now.”

#one piece #eustass kid #one piece smut #one piece kid #eustass x reader #kid x reader #kid pirates #one piece x reader

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ranchiballz · 9 months

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Operation Wingman

Pairing: Darry Curtis x F!reader

Word count: 1271

Description: Y/N is a new employee at Jim’s burger joint in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Ponyboy and Sodapop have been on a mission of helping Darry find a gal.

Authors note: heyyy. so, i’ve been gone. for like a whole year. my bad g. but anyways here’s part two when i publish it -

You push through the swinging door into the kitchen of the small but homely neighborhood diner, Jim's Burger Joint. The smell of fresh beef and fries hits your nose. You almost wince at how pungent it is, but then remember the smell of your other diner job at the Dingo. That place was the most rundown diner filled with robbers and pedos left and right. You couldn't go a day in that joint without something being stolen from you, whether it was your wallet or your innocence. You would have stayed if it wasn't for the never ending impending doom and soulless labor that they put you through. A dinging sound and the sound of shuffling boots pulls you out of your thoughts.You roll your way out of the kitchen and to the front counter.

“Come on Pony! Just one fresh soda and then we can go, I'll even get you a milkshake.” Says a chipper young boy with a wink, flashing a bright smile.

“But the movie starts in 30 minutes, Soda. Johnny will be waiting for us . I don't want him to be alone. And why can't you just get a coke at the movies?” States an even younger boy.

“Because, child, their coke isn't as… crisp as this fine establishments.” The accentuation on the word crisp really pulled it all together. By the looks of them you had to guess they were Brothers. The slicked greasy hair, the soft eyes, the sibling banter.

“Fine, but if Darry gives us shit about not being where we are supposed to, I'm blaming you.” The boy pouts. Both of them walk over to the end of the counter and take the last two seats. You quickly deliver a few burgers to the men at the bar counter. Each one looks at you, winks, thanks you, then digs into their oily fries like they haven't eaten in days. You make a face of disgust then smile when they notice. You roll your way over to the two young boys.

“Hi there, sorry about the wait, what can I get for you boys today?” You say pulling out your pad and a pen, you click the pen as you wait for the boys to give you their orders. As you look up you can see the youngest one staring at you. He sees you notice and looks down at his lap. The other boy is still looking at the menu of drinks. You can see the thoughts pondering in his mind, he was acting like this decision would be his last.

“Hm lets see here, a nice Coca- Cola sounds good, but i haven't had a Dr. Pepper in a while…” The boy continues to contemplate his decision. Your shoulders slump in boredom as he takes what feels like years to decide. You can feel your eyelids get heavy until you are interrupted again by his loud and excited voice. “Ok i will have one large, no, medium. No wait! Large, Dr. Pepper!” You jot down his drink and turn to the other boy.

“And for you?”

“Just a chocolate shake please, Ma’am, Thank you.” The younger boy says. You smile at them and nod as you skate off to back to grab their drinks.

“She's new here, right? Have you seen her here?” Ponyboy says turning to Soda

“Nope haven't seen her til’ now. Hey, she's a pretty good looking gal” Soda says with a smirk on his face. “Wanna pull the good ol’ operation wingman?” Pony gave soda a disapproving look. Operation wingman was Soda's way of saying ‘Hey! That's a cute girl! Lets harass her into giving her number to their older brother because he's just a grumpy, lonely, muscle man that needs a loving gal in his life.’ Has it ever worked? No. Is that gonna stop him? Absolutely not.

“I don’t know Soda… The last time we did it we got in huge trouble, I mean, Darry got slapped. Can you imagine what would happen if it goes even worse?” Pony mentioned.

“First of all, Slapping her butt wasn't the original plan. I just HAPPENED to mention it to Two-Bit. He did it, then Darry paid the price. In all honesty I thought it would work.” Soda rebuked

“Really, that was your plan. Wow you are quite the genius.”

“Hey woah man now don't get ugly on me.”

“Soda, I don't know. Shouldn't we let Darry find love for himself?”

“That workaholic is never gonna find a date. He goes to work, comes home, showers, reads his newspaper , and then goes to bed. No gal finds that attractive. He needs major help. I mean, the last time he talked to a woman was Mrs. Crawly down the road asking if he could get her cat down the tree.” Soda rants on. If Darry were here he would say otherwise. ( but yes that is the last time he had a conversation with a lady).

“I don’t know Soda, she's new, I don't want to scare her off already. And maybe she's a soc.” Pony fights back.

“Oh come one man. Believe in something. Believe…” Soda looks at Pony with a pleading look. He knew that he was just trying to help his brother. But Soda wasn't Darry. Darry was a charming guy, but not like Soda. Soda had a natural effect on women and never struggled. So when he sees his brother struggling to get anywhere in life romantically, he plays cupid… more or less.

Pony looks at the window through the diner to the kitchen, catching a glimpse of you. You were a pretty girl and from the sounds of it you were nice as well. Welcoming customers, smiling at them. You had just a nice smile overall, a very bright and kind one. Pony knew Darry needed someone like that. Almost on cue you started walking out with their drinks

“Fine, but we are doing it my way this time.” Pony whispers to Soda but quickly shuts up before you get there.

“Alrighty boys here you go! Is that all for you today? You say pulling out your pen and pad.

“Yep, Thank you Ma’am. Um, but do you know when you guys close. Me and my friends were planning on coming in later.” Pony takes a long swig of his shake. “And I-I mean this is the best shake I have ever had. If you are here tonight, would you be able to make me another one?” Ponys' request was sly and smart. Asking the perfect questions, all while keeping it subtle. You couldn't help but smile at the compliment. ‘What a weird thing to say’ you thought to yourself.

“Well lucky you, I'm actually closing today. The best time to come is 10. After rush, but before all them truckers come in. Guess I'll be seeing y’all tonight then” You smiled and handed them the bill and walked off to help another customer. Ponyboy looked at Soda with a smug look. Soda then looked at the clock and panic spread over his face.

“Shoot Pony we gotta go! We're gonna be late!” Soda yelled as he hopped off the bar stool and pulled out enough to cover the bill and a dollar as a tip. Pony and Soda ran out the door of the diner, But Pony hesitated and ran back inside.

“What's your name Ma’am!” Pony yells in, grabbing everyone's attention.You whipped your head back.

“Y/N!” You yelled back. Ponyboy nodded and ran out the door again. You shook your head, and thought to yourself ‘what a bunch of funny kids’.

#darry curtis #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry x reader #the outsiders darry #darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis #darry curtis x you #darry curtis imagine #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders imagine

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lau219 · 30 days

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Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

Part 2

Part 1 here

…………………………………………………………………………….

“Hey, Y/N! What are you doing here?”

Turning from the chain link fence, Y/N smiled as her eyes fell upon the young boy who came up beside her.

“Hi, Max,” she replied. “I’m here for Henry’s game. His coach called and asked me to come.”

“Why?” Max asked as he looked up at her.

“Well, the other nurse who usually comes to the games isn’t feeling well and she couldn’t make it, so the coach asked me to be here instead.”

“Oh,” Max replied. “Well, the other nurse usually sits in her car and watches from the parking lot.”

Y/N smiled. She knew her coworker typically napped in her front seat while at the kids’ baseball games. It was the community center’s policy to have a nurse present at every game in case anyone got hurt, and while all the nurses would jump at the chance for the extra 90 minutes of pay at the beginning of the season, the person who ended up landing the gig each year usually wound up regretting it within the first few games. They’d realize too little too late that the extra pay wasn’t worth the 90 minutes of sheer boredom. But Y/N had happily agreed to cover for her coworker that afternoon when the coach had called; she enjoyed seeing the kids have fun, and she could catch up with a few of her girlfriends who had sons or nephews on the team. She’d filled in several times in the past, and she’d never been bored.

“I prefer to watch the game up close,” Y/N answered as she reached down and ruffled Max’s hair. “Is that ok with you?”

“Yeah,” he replied as he smiled up at her. “You’re a lot nicer than the other lady, and you like baseball. You’re pretty cool for a girl.”

Y/N smiled again.

“Thanks,” she replied. “I think you’re pretty cool, too.”

She continued to smile as she looked down at the 8-year-old boy, appreciating, as always, how sweet he was. His 12-year-old brother, Henry, was also a gem, despite the fact that he was at an age where he should be a smart-mouthed wise aleck. She hated to admit it, but, clearly, when it came to the boys, Emmett knew what he was doing. But then, how could his kids be so sweet and enjoyable when he was so frustrating and irritating? She could never figure it out.

“Do you wanna sit with me when the game starts?” Max asked her.

She had been in the middle of waving to Henry out on the field when she furrowed her brow at Max’s question.

“Don’t you usually sit with your dad?” she asked.

“Yeah, but you can sit with us, too. Besides, he’s not here yet.”

Y/N frowned again.

“What do you mean? How did you get here, then?”

“Henry and I walk here after summer camp; a lot of the kids do,” Max replied. “Then we all just hang out while the coach gets everything ready. My dad usually meets us here after he’s done with work, but that’s not until right before the game starts.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N said as she nodded her head. She looked at her watch and then spoke again. “Are you hungry, honey? It’s been a couple hours since camp ended. Do you need a snack or anything?”

Max looked up at her.

“One of the moms sometimes has snacks for everybody, but she doesn’t come every time, so sometimes we don’t get anything,” he replied.

“Is that what happened today?” Y/N asked him.

Max lowered his head and looked forward through the fence.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “But it’s ok. My dad usually brings something to eat with him when he comes.”

“Does he bring something every time?” Y/N asked.

Max shook his head.

“No.”

She didn’t like the risk of him possibly not having anything to eat. She also guessed that Emmett likely wouldn’t have any cash on him – hardly anyone still carried cash anymore. But the snack bar people only took cash, and she had a few bills on her because the vending machines at the hospital where she worked only took cash.

Letting go of the fence, she inhaled and turned to Max.

“Are you hungry?” she asked him again.

Silently, he nodded his head.

“Come on, then,” she said. “I’ll get you something at the snack bar. If it turns out your dad brings something, he can have it for himself.”

“Really?” Max asked her, his eyes glowing.

“Yeah,” she smiled, and she reached down and grabbed his hand, walking with him over to the small concession stand that stood at the end of the bleachers.

As they stood in line, she could only imagine what Emmett would bring with him for them to eat, if anything. Not that she thought he was careless about the boys. That was something she could never criticize him for – she had witnessed firsthand that he was a terrific father. But if she was in his shoes, she could see herself easily forgetting to bring something if she’d have had to come here straight from work. She also could imagine he didn’t have the most appealing options, as he wouldn’t have time to make a separate stop to pick something up before the game. It would probably be some old bag of crushed chips or a smooshed snack cake leftover from his lunch, the packaging no doubt covered in droplets of oil after sitting on the bench at his auto shop.

She decided that getting something for the boys at the snack bar was the quickest and simplest solution. Looking at Max again, she squeezed his hand and smiled as he chattered on about what he’d done at camp that day.

•.•.•.•.•.•

Walking across the dirt parking lot, Emmett shoved his keys in his pocket and began scanning the area for Max as he got closer to the baseball diamond. Typically, when Emmett was a few minutes late, Max would sit with some of the other players’ siblings and their parents, and Emmett would grab him once he got there. He wasn’t late often, but today, he’d been kept at the shop longer than usual due to his one employee unexpectedly needing to leave early. That had left him to finish up the work on a customer’s car by himself, and it couldn’t wait, as the customer had already complained that the work was taking too long. Emmett just wanted to get the work done and have the customer out of his hair. He hadn’t even had a chance to eat lunch today, and he groaned to himself as the thought of food made him realize that he’d forgotten to bring along some kind of snack for the boys. They only took cash at the damn concession stand, and he groaned again as he quickly pulled out his wallet and saw that he had no cash on him. The poor boys would have to wait until they got home after the game.

As he made it to the edge of field, he saw that the game hadn’t actually started yet. Several parents were standing to the side of the players’ benches and speaking with the coach, and the boys who were slotted to start first in the game were milling around the field and waiting. As Emmett zeroed in on Henry’s team’s side, he spotted Max standing at the end of the fence and talking to Henry as they waited for the game to start, but they weren’t alone. Emmett squinted for a moment before realizing that the woman standing with them was Y/N. As he realized it was her, he stopped. What was she doing here?

One of Max’s hands was tucked inside of hers, and his other was holding a hot dog, which he lifted to his mouth for another bite as he happily shifted from foot to foot. As Emmett continued to watch them, he saw Y/N smiling at Henry as she lifted her free hand and held a Styrofoam cup out to him, offering him a drink of whatever was in the cup. Henry smiled appreciatively at her as he took the cup, and after he’d handed it back to her, Y/N encouraged Max to turn around and start heading for the bleachers, the game now about to begin. Witnessing their interaction stirred something in Emmett.

Although he and Y/N were frequently at odds with each other, Emmett knew she was 100% right the other day when she’d said that his boys liked her. They always had, and he hated to admit that she was also right that, except with him, she was a very nice person. He’d witnessed it countless times since she’d moved in next door a couple years ago. Everyone loved her. But for whatever reason, when it came to the two of them, they seemed to bring out the worst in each other, constantly butting heads or arguing over the littlest things. They also drove each other crazy with their styles of arguing – Emmett always kept his cool and irked her on with laid-back provocation, and Y/N annoyed him with her pestering and her dramatic overreactions. He was relaxed and go-with-the-flow; she was fussy and particular. They were complete opposites.

Making his way the final yards to where they were, Emmett first caught Max’s attention just as he and Y/N were about to climb up the bleachers.

“Dad!” Max shouted, and he released Y/N’s hand and bounced over to Emmett, colliding with his leg as Emmett reached down and warmly wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulder.

“Y/N’s here to be the nurse for the game, and I told her she can sit with us. Is that ok?” Max looked up at his father brightly, a smear of ketchup at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, I don’t know, buddy,” Emmett began, still looking down at Max before raising his head to look at Y/N as he finished. “You know how badly the nurse is needed at these games; she’ll probably be really busy.” He could barely contain his smirk as he watched Y/N process his sarcastic jab. Max, however, was clueless to the joke.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Nothing ever happens. The other lady just waits in her car for the game to be over.”

“Your dad was just trying to be funny, Max,” Y/N spoke up, but her eyes remained locked with Emmett’s. “But I think he needs a lot more practice.”

“Or maybe some of us are just too uptight,” Emmett said, his smirk escaping as he looked at her.

Max lifted his head and looked back and forth between Y/N and Emmett, still oblivious to the situation, but picking up on the tension as he watched them stare at each other.

“You guys are weird,” he said innocently.

Emmett broke their gaze then and looked down to Max, his eyes landing on the food in his hand.

“Where’d you get the hot dog?” he asked him, changing the subject.

“Y/N got it for me,” Max answered. “She got one for Henry, too. And a soda for us to share.” He looked over to Y/N with a beaming smile.

“He said he was hungry,” Y/N said as Emmett raised his head and their eyes met again. “They hadn’t eaten since lunch at day camp, and we didn’t know if you’d have anything with you when you got here. And I didn’t want Henry to play on an empty stomach, either.”

Emmett nodded his head once.

“I’ll pay you back,” he said.

“No, that’s not necessary.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Emmett, the food at the snack bar costs, like, fifty cents an item. It’s not a big deal, and I’m happy to do it. He was hungry, so I got him something.”

“I would have gotten him something when I got here,” Emmett said, despite the fact that he had no cash on him.

“Well, now it’s already taken care of,” she replied.

Before he could argue any further, Y/N looked down at Max and spoke again.

“Thank you for the invitation, sweetheart, but I’m gonna sit closer to the players’ benches in case they need me. But I’ll see you later, ok?”

“Ok,” Max nodded, refocusing on his hot dog as he took another bite.

“See ya’,” she then said to Emmett as she looked at him again. Then she turned and headed off in the opposite direction towards the players’ benches.

All throughout the game, Emmett continually glanced over at Y/N, the skirt of her sundress occasionally flapping in the breeze as she watched the game and chatted with a few of the parents sitting next to her. He gradually became irritated as time went by. She had been so take-charge in getting the boys a snack and so adamant when she’d declined him paying her back. It was almost as if she expected that he wouldn’t have anything with him for them to eat, and that she assumed he’d be too forgetful and careless to have cash on him to get them anything.

She didn’t know how busy his schedule was right now; she didn’t know how hard he tried to keep everything running smoothly for the boys. She probably thought he was a bad father.

As the game ended and everyone made their way towards the parking lot, Emmett let Max run ahead with Henry. He then climbed down the bleachers and walked over to where Y/N was zipping up the backpack of first aid supplies she’d brought with her. She didn’t notice him approaching, and he spoke up when he stopped next to her.

“Hey, I’m going to pay you back for the food you got the boys.”

Still bent over and adjusting the backpack, she turned her head and looked at him for a moment before frowning briefly. He was still harping on that?

“I told you,” she said as she stood up straight, “that’s not necessary. I’m happy to do it.”

“I don’t like to owe anybody anything,” he replied. “I’ll pay you back.”

“It was a soda and a couple of hot dogs,” Y/N retorted, shaking her head. “Not prime rib.”

There was a brief pause, and then Emmett spoke again.

“Is this because I woke you up the other morning?” he asked.

“What?” she responded in total confusion.

“Is this how you’re getting back at me? Trying to show me up in front of my boys?”

“Show you up?!” she replied, her expression incredulous. “You think I’m showing you up and getting revenge with a cup of flat cola and concession stand hot dogs?”

Emmett crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

“So, why’d you do it, then?” he asked defensively.

Why was he getting so bent out of shape over this? she wondered.

Y/N gripped the backpack, lifting it from the bench and slinging it over her shoulder before she answered him.

“Because despite the fact that I can barely tolerate you, I happen to adore those boys.”

Emmett cocked his head at her.

“You’re no picnic either, princess.”

She glared at him.

“Go to hell.”

“I’ll see you there.”

Then they each turned and walked off in opposite directions.

Part 3

@nyxxie-pooh @febris-amatoria @xsweetcatastrophe @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @hannibellector @devotedlyshadowytheorist @aphroditeslover11 @natalie--rushman @garrison-girl-08 @fuseburner @neonpurplestars89-blog

#emmett x female reader #emmet a quiet place x reader #emmett a quiet place #emmett fic #emmett smut #emmett a quiet place 2 #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian smut #18+ only

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captaincapsicle83 · 2 months

Text

At First Sight ○○ Bucky Barnes x reader

Pairings: Natasha x reader (platonic), Wanda x reader (platonic), Clinton x reader (platonic), Bucky x reader

Plot: Your roommates set you up on a date with their coworker, and you two hit it off right away. (Most of this story is silly little platonic fun, but I like it anyway).

(The little gif of him drinking water is funnier after you read the story)

“He has a cat.”

“Well, whoop-di-do,” You huff monotonously. Wanda scrunches up her nose at you, before sighing and shaking her head.

“I think you should go,” She says. You risk rolling your eyes, even though she could very well kill you, then and there.

“‘I think you should go’” You say, making your voice go higher, in a mocking tone. “If he’s so great, you go. I have a ton of work to do.”

Just last year, you landed a teaching position. It had been in May, and you were given hardly any time at all to prep. School started again in a week, and even though you’d been preparing loosely all summer, this week you were locked in.

So why the hell did Wanda need you to go on a stupid date?

“If you don’t go, there’s a good chance you’ll die alone,” She crosses her arms, eyebrows raised.

“You’re here, and so is Natasha,” You point out, finally putting your laptop to the side, and uncrossing your legs, stretching them out.

“What about when we go get married and have lives, and have jobs, and you just…die of boredom,” What was this a Sims game? Was she gonna lock you in a room with a radio next? Put the walls up around a pool?

“Clint’ll be here. Poor little shit’s never getting married. No one wants the little scrapper,” You pull your coffee mug to your lips. You must’ve left it idle longer than intended, because instead of warm, silky, and smooth, it was starkly cold, and felt thin beyond your lips.

“You want him?” Her eyes were annoyed, but her face was bemused.

“He’s low maintenance,” You shrug.

“Who?” Someone says, coming through the front door with an armload of groceries, and a red-haired friend behind them. While Clint had about ten plastic bags of things, Natasha sipped an iced coffee from a straw, looking awfully unbothered.

“Why does she still look homeless Wanda?” Nat questioned. “You said you were gonna drag her kicking and screaming.”

“We were getting there.”

Four people in one New York apartment, in upper Manhatten. It was expensive as high hell, but you all made it work.

So why am I gonna put my job on hold for something stupid as this-

You’re sitting on Wanda’s bed, Natasha’s fingers in your hair, Wanda in her closet, and Clint tasked with the job of “make-up artist”.

“I have my hobbies.”

You’re just about at the end of your rope with them, Wanda picking something out and Clint huffing and puffing that it doesn’t go with the look he’s going for, Natasha yelling at both of them like children. Finally, the timer that means, “We better be ready now or we’re gonna be late” sounds off. Wanda’s best idea today, the worst being, obviously…

Natasha and Wanda have tickets for an art gallery opening, so they’re both driving you, Clint tagging along for “moral support.” Groans were elicited.

Natasha was giving you a run down the whole way there.

“He’s a little quiet at first,” She says.

“Good thing you’re not,” Clint whispers to you.

“I don’t know if he’ll get there first, or not, but he’s got dark hair and will probably be wearing dark clothes, he does around the office all the time.”

“Emo bo-” Clint cuts himself off from his whisper, snapping to Natasha. “He works with us.”

“Yes.”

Silence…

“Well, who is it?” Clint asks, rather boisterously.

“…No.”

“No?” Clint, clearly offended, turns to you. “What’s his name?”

Your mouth opens, before shutting again, realizing no one had told you. You lean forward in the backseat.

“Who is it, Nat?”

“You’ll see.”

“No-” “Nuh-uh!” You and Clint both protest.

“I’ve been to your guys’ office I wanna know,” you say.

“Better pray it’s Steve,” Clint says.

“Oh, Natasha it better be Steve.”

Natasha turns around in the passenger seat, to face you and Clint in the back.

“Steve is engaged,” She starts.

“Yeah, so?” Clint says, and the car is quiet for a moment. When you make eye contact with Clint’s green eyes, the silence is cut by both of your laughter.

Unfortunately, this put a dent in the interrogation, and now you were outside of the diner. Your friends had told you good luck and left you here. You did notice Natasha whisper something to Clint as you got out, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. She covered his mouth and basically strangled him down when he tried to tell you.

Since they were gone…no one could force you to go in…

You couldn’t do that. Morally, you would feel horrible to just leave whoever this is sitting alone, waiting for you.

And the girls might evict you.

You walked through the doors of the diner. The diner was a cute little place, albeit a strange theme. It was based on Norse Mythology, called “Odin’s Sons.”

You were greeted by a blonde man, who was the hostess. You told him you were here to meet a date and he broke out into a smile. He said a man had arrived just a little while ago, here to wait for a date.

He led you to a table, where you were greeted by-

before

“I think you’ll like it,” Sam was saying. He was helping his friend, coworker, and roommate, get ready for a date Sam had set up for him.

“Who is she again?” Bucky asked, his voice strained.

“You don’t know her, but she’s Nat and Clint’s friend. She’s in some of the pictures on Clint’s stupid little desk of picture frames,” Bucky rolled his eyes at the mention of the pictures. Clint took many unauthorized pictures of Bucky himself (among others) and they ended up in frames. Clint claimed that, being an art major, and having taken many photography classes, he had the ultimate right.

As Sam described what you looked like, Bucky felt like he did sorta know who he was talking about. You came into the office sometimes, to bring whiny Clint and grateful Natasha food and coffee.

And you were probably the same girl Clint tortured and made fun of him for having a “crush” on.

Bucky arrived at the restaurant about half an hour before he was due. He wanted to be early and to have time to shake away all the nerves.

Well, maybe all was a bit much to ask. There were definitely a lot of nerves to cover.

He was greeted by Thor, the host who gave him a seat. A teenage boy with light brown hair and a bubbly personality brought him a glass of water and some bread. And another glass of water. And another. And a refill of bread.

“Thanks, Peter,” Bucky said again. No matter how many times the boy had to come back, he didn’t seem to stop smiling or being glad to get Bucky yet another glass of water.

As Thor came around the corner again, just as Peter was leaving, he was accompanied by the very girl Bucky had guessed it would be.

You were laughing, he could see, something Thor had said. Time felt like it was slowed as you met his eyes with yours. They seemed to sparkle with your joy, and his heart fluttered at the sight.

He hadn’t seen you so elegant before, but to him, you looked just as beautiful with or without. The makeup that defined your features seemed to have been applied with a steady hand. The dress you wore seemed to almost go with the makeup, and he wondered if it was planned or if you were just…perfect.

He had barely any time at all to gather his thoughts and put his ducks in a row before you sat across from him, smiling warmly. He smiled back, unable to say or do anything but sip his water.

“Hi,” You said. Your heart was pounding, and your heads were sweaty with nervousness. He set down his water glass that he had been holding since you came around the corner with Thor. He was barely finished saying hi back when the young waiter came to take your order.

He ordered first, and you quickly scanned the menu and picked something. The boy smiled warmly as he collected the menus from you, with the promise your food would be out soon.

“So,” The dark-haired man cleared his throat. You were entranced by the blue of his eyes as he said, “You…your name’s Y/n, right?”

“Hmm? Oh!” You realized you were basically questioning your own name, only a second too late. “Yeah, yeah, uh…Nat…asha, didn’t really tell me…your name.”

You decided on the long version of Nat’s name, taking a pause beforehand. You were grateful when the waiter, Peter, popped up out of nowhere with a drink you ordered, and more water for your date.

“It’s Bucky…Well, I mean, it’s James, but everyone calls me Bucky,” “Bucky” gave you a lopsided smile, which you returned.

Peter wasn’t lying when he said your food would be out right away. It seemed like you had barely taken the time to talk before your plates were in front of you.

“So you have…?”

“Three roommates,” you said, laughing a little.

“Oh god, and one of them’s Clint?” His face was twisted in genuine concern, which made you laugh a little harder. Bucky was hot and Bucky was funny and you could hardly take it.

“What about you?”

“It’s just me and Sam right now…and we have a cat,” He adds the last part after taking a sip of his drink.

“You don’t look like a cat person,” You shake your head, taking a bite of your food.

“If I wear clothes that haven’t immediately come out of the dryer, I look like a cat,” He says, and then seems to pull a white cat hair off of his black shirt.

“You need lighter clothes.”

“Not really my style.”

“You’re eternally a goth kid?”

He lets out a loud laugh at that, making you smile even harder.

~~~

“She was hot, and she was funny,” Bucky was saying to Sam. Sam was lying stretched out on the couch, Alpine laying pristinely on his chest, all her legs tucked under her fluffy body.

“That’s nice Bucky,” Sam says, only half paying attention. He coos at the cat, scratching her chin, “Isn’t that nice baby?”

“Okay, you’re not listening.”

“What makes you think that?”

~~~

You were laying on your couch, your feet in Clint’s lap as he prodded you with questions. Natasha shushed him, smacking him upside the head, as she handed you a drink. And by drink, that refers to an entire bottle of wine.

You were fiddling with the cork as you droned on about the date. About what Bucky looked like, and about what you talked about. More about what he looked like…

You let yourself trail off as Natasha and Clint shared a knowing look, and Wanda was smiling to herself as she played on her phone.

“What?” you ask, eyes full of innocence.

“Noth-” Wanda starts, but Clint cuts her off.

“You’re whipped,” he laughs.

You smile to yourself, shaking your head.

Maybe you were.

#bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #clint barton #marvel mcu #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff

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cloverdaisies · 11 months

Text

MEDIA STUDIES: KIM SUNWOO

this document contains a letter to the pretty boy who sits quietly in the back of a poorly lit media studies classroom. ☆*:.｡.

song recommendation : photosynthesis- sunwoo

☆*:.｡. ☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆o .｡.:*☆☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆

LETTER ONE:

MONDAY 5TH JUNE 2007

hi pretty boy,

your sweet peach lips, and chocolate brown eyes seemed to have fell dull today. it irked me to ignore your sad state and pitiful expressions, despite having never interacted with you before now. you always sit at the back of the class, huddled as far back into the corner as humanly possible. you nervously chew on your pencil a lot and enjoy spinning the thinned wood between your two fingers. you smell of a woody-spicy accord every time you breeze past, a scent that is both unfamiliar yet powerful in evoking the warm explosion of butterflies and bees in my stomach.

your smile is full, bright and unavoidably noticeable as it spreads from ear to ear it’s a rare sight now since something in your timeline has shifted. you seem to be aching, in your oversized hoodies and frowned expressions - i wonder what had destroyed the beautiful boy who usually sits peacefully amid his own daydreams. Your voice was deep and smooth, one that could sing any woman to sleep, you looked like you drank black coffee and smoked cigarettes off your balcony every morning. your face screamed a palette of romance, you looked like the lead in a romance novel like the boy who rescues the princess in a fairytale-

“what are you writing?” the girl sat next to me cranes her neck over my page as she tries to read the contents of the page in front of me

“nothing to do with you clearly.” i retorted, scrumpling the page and discarding it in the small trash can towards the back of the class.

the bell sounded to mark the end of class, i left with a slight pink tint on my cheeks as i made short eye contact with the brown eyed boy at the back.

WEDNESDAY 7TH JUNE 2007

media was always a lesson that flew by pretty quickly, considering my only assignments were to analyze music videos and watch movies it wasn’t too difficult and time seemed to just fly by when i had little work to do.

whilst practicing my handwriting out of sheer boredom, i reached to take a sip of my iced caramel latte i’d bought from the local coffee shop shortly before class before i felt a small object hit the back of my head and then bounce back onto the floor next to my desk.

i looked behind me with a look of sheer confusion to see the pretty boy from the back of my class, who didn’t have a name to my knowledge, chuckle at me mischievously.

with a nervous and reluctant smile back, i picked up the scrumpled piece of note paper he pointed to beside me, his hands hidden in the cuffs of his grey hoodie.

in messy handwriting the paper wrote:

hi pretty girl,

thank you for the compliments, your bright eyes and blissful smile seem to have caught my eye too. but don’t be embarrassed i noticed you tend to go all pink in your cheeks and shakey whenever something mildly nerve-wrecking happens to you.

thank you for noticing i haven’t been doing well lately, it makes me feel better to have someone notice. do you wanna go get coffee later? i also noticed you buy one before class everyday.

add me to your contacts, my number is: ***************

btw my name is sunwoo, i’d love to know yours.

☆*:.｡.｡.:*☆☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆

small lil fluff to aid your wednesday evening and hopefully make you feel a lil better !

please ask me some questions with the questions feature! i really wanna use it

sending my love always, wherever you are in the world <3

#the boyz x reader #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fluff #the boyz fanfic #the boyz #sunwoo #tbz moodboard #tbz #tbz sunwoo #kpop #kpop fanfic #sunwoo fanfic #the boyz wattpad #kpop imagines #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #cloverdaisies

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icon-cloud · 2 months

Text

Sleep Helps

Sometimes you wake up feeling like shit.

Includes: Sick character, Overall, pretty soft

WC: 946

Waking up, Swiss didn’t feel right. He wasn’t usually someone to stay in bed for long, aside from of course, the fun activities. There were just too many things to do, and too many people to annoy and launch himself dramatically at. Why would he stay in bed and willingly subject himself to boredom when there was something to do?

Today felt different though. His eyes felt dry, a little crusty. It stung a little to open his eyes actually. His skin felt a little more sensitive than usual he supposed. Like it was stretched a little too much.

Sitting up, he took a deep breath and groaned loudly, while rubbing his hand harshly on his face. Slouching forward, he pulled his arms close to his lap before doing a cursory look around his room and decided to take a shower.

Showers usually helped. The steam opened up his nasal passage and rehydrated his eyes significantly. Plus, it always helps to just start the day clean, it felt nice and it was a good way to wake up in his mind.

Stepping out the shower he got dressed relatively quickly and shuffled his way into the kitchen, to the coffee pot.

Rain soon found Swiss glaring at the coffee machine, almost as if it spoke to him, and accused him of being a eunuch. Slowly, he approached before asking softly, “Hey wisp, are you alright? You’re usually up earlier than this… and more coherent.”

Squinting, Swiss turned his gaze towards Rain and replied in a scratchy voice, “The da-” his voice cut off harshly as he turned his face to cough into his elbow. Closing his eyes, Swiss angled his head to the ceiling. Methodically, he took a few shallow breaths to calm his breathing before continuing, “The damned coffee is empty, and my head hurts too much to fix it.”

Rain winced at the multi ghouls voice. What was usually a low timbre, had morphed into a dry hoarse mockery of his usual tone. All around Swiss didn’t look like his usual, bubbly self.

Frowning, he approached Swiss and gently grasped his arm to pull him softly, before saying, “Come on my wisp. You don’t sound too good. So, let's get you laid down and I can bring you something warm.” Looking to Swiss, he tilted his head before giving a shy smile and said, “I don’t think coffee is what you need at the time being anyway.”

Swiss didn’t protest when Rain pulled him closer. Instead, he chose to lean his head onto his current partner’s shoulder when he wrapped his arm around him, allowing the water ghoul to lead them both back to his room.

Opening the door to his room, they shuffled to Rain’s bed. “Alright Smiles, give me a second and you can lay back down. You wanna strip down or have some PJ’s?”

Grumbling he replied hoarsely, “Skin hurts. Don't want anything.” Stiffly, he worked his way out of his short worn outfit of the day until he got to his boxers.

Hunched awkwardly, he smiled gently to himself as he watched rain worry over the state of his bed before he whispered, “The bed is fine the way it is Lilly, lemme get in please.”

Turning to Swiss, he bit his lip softly as he observed the sick ghouls slouched figure. “Alright, yea go on and get comfortable.” Leaning against the bed, he tilted his head while he watched Swiss gingerly climb into the bed. Once he got to the center he flounced forward, sighing in relief.

Gathering the blankets around him, he asked Rain where Aether was, frowning when the other answered displeased. “Aether was called away this morning. Apparently a different location needs a skilled Quint to help train some newly summoned. Aeth is gonna be away for a little bit.”

“Ah well, he’s always lecturing us about how we can’t always rely on him. I suppose it was bound to happen,” was the scratchy reply given by Swiss. Whining he asked in a small voice, “Can you just… I feel real crappy Lils, can you just hold me a little?”

Squinting mirthfully, Rain snorted before saying, “Is that not the exact reason why I shouldn’t get in bed with you at the moment?” Laughing he said, “Move over ya big lump, you’re taking up all the room!”

Swiss gave him an impish grin and said, “Scuse you, I’m sick. I don’t need to move at all. You can make room.” As he said this he playfully turned his head away from Rain with a small grin, only to give a short squeal when the other began shoving him to the side.

Rain grinned down at him, causing small wrinkles to form around his eyes. Haloed by the golden light coming in through the sheer curtains of the room, he appeared to be almost celestial to Swiss.

Unable to help himself, Swiss hooked an arm around the other's neck to gently pull him down. Settled on top of him, Swiss cupped Rain’s cheek, and nuzzled him gently before giving in to kiss Rain.

Closing his eyes, Rain smiled against the other, before turning his head and leaned into Swiss’ neck. Hugging himself against the other’s body, he pulled them both onto their sides and whispered, “Go to sleep Wisp. There’s always the chance you’ll feel better in the afternoon.”

Sighing quietly he replied, “Yea, you’re right. Thanks Rain, love you.”

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. He couldn’t quite breath right, and his throat hurt, but he knew he was safe. Should anything happen he knew Rain would look after him while he slept.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #sickfic #my fics

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lordeemailarchive · 7 months

Text

Pure Heroine turns 10

(27/09/2023) (PH 10 YEAR ANNIVERSARY DISPATCH)

Living in Ruins of a Palace within My Dreams

Photo by Simeon Patience

Hi,

Firstly, I wanna say thank you for your extremely supportive and kind messages after my last newsletter. I genuinely feel deeply cared for, less alone, and more sure that things will be okay after sending it! Albeit with a slight overshare hangover. I think a part of me knew that I had hit a wall, and that I needed to invite in the compassion and understand I’d been struggling to generate on my own, and then I’d have something to draw from and mirror. It feels like it’s working. I feel incredibly grateful that we have this relationship, that we can each give when the other needs it. Beautiful stuff x

Now, might U have noticed it’s 2013 mode round here????????? Yes that’s right, it’s a very special anniversary… Pure Heroine is... ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡TEN ˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚ YEARS ˚༘♡ ⋆｡˚ OLD ੈ✩‧₊˚ TODAY ! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You may (like me most of the time) hold the opinion that this album has been MYTHOLOGISED QUITE ENOUGH, but a milestone is a milestone, so I thought coming here and typing some shit to u about this time would be a fun thing for those who care.

2 xxxxtra special ltd time only commemorative designs by Hassan, who did the original of this bootleg tee 10 years ago❤️

It’s close to midnight, and I’ve just finished scrolling through my entire computer and phone archive from 2011-2013. Going on this memory lane ride has reminded me, for one thing, what a different time it was technologically. We were just starting to be able to see ourselves in real time, but we weren’t constantly connected. I had an iPod touch until halfway through 2013, which didn’t have a front camera or internet access, and my sister and I shared a MacBook, which is where we did our schoolwork and I wrote my lyrics. I took my first few years of selfies on Photo Booth…. Just let that… sink in!!!

Note the Royals Nat Geo pic in background— it’s happening...

When I was fourteen, my greatest work of art was my bedroom. A very cool, very classic teenage bedroom, Andie’s and Duckie’s from Pretty in Pink meets the Virgin Suicides— fairy lights, fabric on the ceiling, candles, stolen road signs (badman), paper lanterns, beer crate shelves, magazine pictures and club night posters and permanent marker on the walls. Bliss! I’d sit up there and vibe out, taking a lot of selfies. Creating a small-scale work of art using the self, and then examining the product from every angle, was the best method I had to express myself and exercise creativity at that time, and I now see it as an important PH incubation phase, whether I knew it or not. Something really amazing about a young person starting to see their own face and body for the first time, coming to a very secret understanding that they are beautiful.

I started to smoke weed, which gave me a deeper understanding of sensory pleasure, and allowed me to start to see my world as a possible work of art. I’d go on long walks around the neighbourhood, and began to mythologise the stuff around me (big empty floodlit rugby fields/bus rides/dark streets/boredom/isolation) into the motifs that would become Pure Heroine. I wore a lot of like, navy lipsticks from the 2 dollar shop. God, this aesthetic, It’s just TOO MUCH.

At some point in here, I met Joel, and another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. When you’re a teenager, you’re particularly sensitive to adults being condescending to you, not respecting the specific and finely tuned skills you have because of the ones you don’t. I was always on the look out for it, and from the first day meeting Joel, I knew that he would never give me that feeling. Which I’m sure wasn’t easy — my wallet at the time was the foot of a pair of tights that I cut off and knotted at the top — but somehow from the very beginning he made me feel like my ideas had value, like we were peers, in the most sensitive and age-appropriate way.

My view for thousands of hours making this album

We got on a call earlier this week and broke down the complete history of making the album. We both agreed that making Pure Heroine was deeply exciting and intimate and free, and still one of our most treasured experiences. I’ve linked it here.The second half of 2013 is when I really met the world, went to America and Australia and Europe for the first time. I found an incredible (for some reason Christmas themed) disposable camera image of my stage outfits all over the floor of my hotel room, which really sums up how ad hoc everything was at the beginning — a jetlagged sixteen year old, late for lobby call and frantically stuffing thousands of dollars of borrowed clothes into a suitcase.

In this stage, it felt like I pulled everything off by the skin of my teeth. Every week was the most exciting week of my whole life, I was so tired and still didn’t have a winter coat and took everyone clamouring for a piece of me completely for granted. I had zero cultural context, had no idea if an interview or TV show was huge or small, and so breezed through it all truly not giving a fuck. I am not a naturally nonchalant person, it was literally just too much to care about, I could hardly get up in the morning, so I just said absolutely whatever I felt like, all kinds of wild shit, if someone did something corny I’d say so, I was ruthless in that way that only teens are. Then through that year we went on our first tours, met you guys for the first time, hours and hours of hugs after the show, my favourite part so far and where it started to feel real for me. James took a lot of beautiful film photos through that time, and I’m really grateful he did.

Ten years goes really fast. One minute you’re wearing a leather collar with a giant crystal hanging off it to a Chanel party, and the next you’re blonde. A lot of stuff isn’t good after ten years. But I am still totally touched by this sweet record. I have deep respect for the vision of the little one making it.

Going back through all of this has reminded me of something that feels important to point out, whether you make art or not: everything starts out as a bunch of bullshit in a laptop. Pure Heroine was a handful of Photo Booth selfies and emotional Word documents and Tumblr posts (and a gorgeous over-decorated bedroom) before it was even one song. I had no reason, on paper, to believe that I was capable of anything. But if you can trust that the first impulse you had to create came from a place of deep wisdom, develop a few principles for your decision-making, and absorb a lot of stuff you find inspiring, you’ll have something special on your hands. Pure Heroine exists because I had the tiniest inkling of what I’ve now come to see as one of my guiding principles: that each of us have a handful of songs inside us that are ours, and only ours, to sing. Your specific interests and upbringing and physiology and experiences exist only in you; you are sitting on a gold mine that no one can rob. Whatever that means to you, whatever that statement you were born to make is, I invite you to take a big breath and make it.

All my love for another ten years of all this, and more, and more—

Ella XXXXXXXXXX

(source: received this email)

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ivymarquis · 3 months

Text

Derailed

Pairing| Simon x Laury Rating| M Word Count| 1.1k Content/Warnings| This is my (belated; rip, I have had A Day) piece for the Valentine event hosted by @bunnyreaper, written for @starry-eyedblog!! This is not a reader insert, it is written with Laury in mind! We were gonna have more of the pet play element but the boot thing kinda kicked in and didn't wanna shake loose so I hope you don't mind Laury (and I apologize for the delay!!)

If missing Simon while he’s gone is torture (and it most assuredly is), then having him be so tangible and yet completely accessible to you is its own brand of hell.

On the one hand, Simon is home and not deployed to bumfuck nowhere, getting shot at on the other side of the world. On the other hand, he has been chained in his home office all day and your patience is rapidly wearing thin.

Meeting after phone call after phone call has kept him occupied and boredom has you sitting at his feet trying very very hard to be a good pet who is not a nuisance and lets your owner work.

But there is only so long that you can sit at his feet with your head resting against his massive thigh before ideas start swirling around in your brain. After all, you’re dressed and ready to play the second that he finally gives himself a break (Price and Laswell are rapidly climbing up your shitlist, deciding firmly that the blame lies with them).

The unfortunate part of being an officer is the paperwork that comes with it. There is a part of you that knows he is trying to burn through the pile of paperwork that is stacked in order to better be able to enjoy the time with you. Suffering through and getting it done now means that he doesn’t have to worry about it looming over him and clouding over everything the pair of you do.

But he’s been at it all day.

Something (someone- namely you) needs to break up the monotony of his day.

There is, after all, only so long he should be able to expect you to sit there at his feet. The highlight of any phone call being when his hands would pet and stroke at your head.

Those brown eyes remain glued to the desk, not at all worried about what you’re getting up to as your blue ones focus on him. You’re his good pet but at this point you’ve been pushed to the threshold of what you can handle.

It’s not exactly better when Simon is gone, but it is easier to miss him and his affection when he’s gone. Having him so close that you can literally touch him, but being utterly deprived beyond a few placating head scratches is so difficult to deal with.

“Just a bit longer, Laury,” he murmurs as a platitude, like he hasn’t been murmuring it at you all day at various intervals.

When he’s got someone on the other end of the line you know better than to proceed with the plan that is cooking in your brain. Instead you sprawl out at his feet on your blanket, tuning out mission details that don’t concern you in the slightest (and, if we’re being honest, you really shouldn’t be in a position where you can hear it at all, but it’s not like you’re retaining any of that information. If there’s no video calls to witness your presence in the room, and you don’t make a peep when he’s on the phone- well, it’s like you’re not even there anyway, right?)

But when the silence from one phone call ending starts to stretch with the lack of another one beginning, your brain gets to thinking thoughts that perhaps you should not be thinking.

Simon’s worked so hard today, and he’s certainly earned a break by this point in the day.

Picking yourself up off the floor, you can see his attention pull from the desk momentarily, eyes roaming the exposed skin thanks to your outfit before being satisfied you were just repositioning yourself and looking back at the stack.

Silly, silly man.

After all, you’re such a good pet normally that surely he can’t begrudge you a bit of mischief every now and then, right?

Not being terribly overt to start, you are slow to move around as you go from picking yourself off the floor and shifting to straddle one of Simon’s boots. Your chin resting on his knee as your hands grab at the fabric on his thigh, it’s not exactly deliberate as you shift your weight around to settle in on him, but you quickly realize that the laces of his boot feel fantastic rubbing against you.

Oh.

It gets both you and Simon’s attention both, who stays sitting in his chair but leans back in his seat to look at you with an unreadable expression.

If he actually was displeased, you’d know about it by now. Simon is nothing but consistent, and there’s only so far of a hole he’ll allow you to dig for yourself before letting you know that he’s not happy with the situation.

Naturally, you take that to mean you’ve got carte blanche to continue on with your little plan.

You can’t help but rock your hips, the gusset of your underwear thin enough that you could feel the ridges of the laces and the hardwear as your hips cant back and forth against him. A whimper escapes you before you can control yourself (impulse control is overrated anyways, and you’ve been beyond patient today as it is).

“You’re acting like you’re in heat, puppy. That what’s gotten into you?” Simon questions in faux concern, his tone cloying as his foot shifts ever so subtly more against you.

You find yourself nodding, certainly feeling like all reason is fleeing your mind as you chase your high. That slight adjustment he made to his position has you feeling incredible as you grind against him.

“Yeah, you must be. Go on, then.” he encourages, the low timber of his voice shooting straight between your legs. You can feel your face flushing as he goads you on, skin turning pink underneath your freckles as you get close.

You’d had an entire plan in mind, one that included giving him some well earned head before hopefully getting fucked silly on the desk. Those plans are entirely derailed as you grip at his broad thigh for purchase, humping against his boot like an animal in heat. Instead, your breath catches in your throat in short pants that melt into a keening whine as your climax rushes over you.

All the tension in your body melts as you go lax, slumping against his broad legs as pleasure makes your brain go fuzzy.

Simon’s petting at you, keeping you content and preening at the contact until you’re feeling a bit more settled and even keeled.

You’re staring off centered at the wall, not particularly focused on anything when you feel him lean forward and shuffling papers again.

Wait- no- you still have plans.

It is then you realize he’s shuffling them out of the way, not just sifting to see where he was before.

“Come on, puppy. Up on the desk you get.”

You scramble to obey.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#Simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x oc #idk if oc is the right thing to tag but ANYWAY #my writing

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theastrical · 24 days

Text

yesterday exist; so does today

Alzheimer is a hastle to deal with, you know this well, after all you’ve been here since the day you graduated nursing school, yet you’re still working in the central care centre for the paycheck. You know you shouldn’t have involved yourself in the matter of patients, realising it would emotionally torture you till you retire.

kaeya & fem!reader (platonic relationship)

implied major character death, mentions of suicide, heavy angst, comfort/hurt

note: hmmm honestly i don’t really know what i write since i write this out of boredom..AO3 LINK

“Kaeya Alberich, age 35. Current symptoms, memory loss and confusion.” same old thing again and again, writing down the patient’s data and insert it into sheets for the centres “transparency”, interacting with them and leave them to the hands of the doctors until they finally meet death years later. you read the data that was preserved on your desk and you gave off a long sigh, just like another day, a patient’s data worth of nothing on your hands are waiting to be checked by you.

The writing was messy, like an old calligraphy, the patient placed the picture quite asymmetrically, he also seemed to have slipped down several documents which you also have to read. Some of it written as “confidential, only medical teams and legal experts can access”. Finally, something to stick your nose into that makes this job at the very least, interesting.

“hey you look like you wanna bleach your own eyeballs, what’s up, new patient?”

you got caught up by one of your closest colleagues, jumped through the words, your voice all hoarse from the lack of water you consumed. “Yea, he gave me these documents that probably cost me half an hour to read…”, the americano you bought almost gone, making you to give a longer sigh.

“don’t bother buying another coffee, your shift is almost done.” , your colleague implies after your words.

“Hmm…okay.”, muttering the words. Your eyes widened by the data he had registered over himself.

“It’s been a while since we’ve gotten a patient who registered themself over their own name instead of a legal guardian, right?” , you asked your colleague, who seemingly has no life inside his eyes.

“hm? yeah, in fact, i’ve only gotten two people who registered themself here, two of them are old folks without a family…their death made me mentally drained, i miss them both.”

“fuck”, you curse with a voice that now seems to have a slight regret on it. “What?”, he replied. “He’s not even old enough to register himself in this centre”, “how old is he?”, your colleague asked out of curiosity, since this sort of cases can make your mind all rounded, he’s young, so why bother admit himself in this death row…”thirty five, 7 more months to thirty six”. “our age, is it not?”, he replied while moving his chair to your desk, now interested. “based on how he write his data, the symptoms are already chronic.”, you mutter, observing every of the information while your colleague looking through his diagnosis.

“goodluck taking care of him”, your colleague pat your back.

and just like that, you know you’re going to face the most emotional phase you’ve ever had in this hell-hole workplace.

By Saturday, you met the man. His eyes are sharp, rigid and bold, hue blue that never to be seen before, and believe it or not, he looks like he came out of a fictional series. His eye-bags are visible and his hair all tangled up from the braid he made by himself, allegedly. “Goodmorning, am i talking to Mr. Kaeya Alberich?” , he fidget his fingers over his cardigan, playing with the cloth that he worn just to avoid any of his hallucination and confusion. I know that means he’s uncomfortable with the surrounding or maybe his own existence…”yes..”, his voice sounds like a chirping crows, hoarse and deep, yet soothing to hear.

“Sorry, i have to ask, why am i here..?”, oh my, it already seems like he’s already losing his sense.

you take his confidential papers and explain it to him, all patient and prepared to have him lose his mind, you explain it with a voice that made his ears able to accept it just by a slight mutter, “mr. Alberich, the papers say that you choose this centre so you can go through your daily life without worrying of improper death. Hence you’re here to retrieve the deal, to have yourself admitted in here.”, he looks at you with confusion, but suddenly he changed his thought and his once-reaction flew from that face of his. “Oh? Hahaha! Is that why i’m here? Because of myself?? Oh funny! I haven’t write that one on my notes! Maybe i have to after this!!”, his laugh sounds sarcastic, it makes you uncomfortable…but alzheimer patients are always like this, they can’t control what they currently suffer from and you’re the one to take care of em.

“anything else would you like me to explain?”

“quick question, what’s your name?”

“[name]”…you seem to have doubt his question, whatever he needs from you to ask your name? This is weird.

“nice to meet you, would you mind taking care of me while being my friend?”

“you don’t have one sir?”, shit, i dropped the bomb.

“i have one, but we…i-…i forgot haha..”

it’s expected, his scan was something out of the ordinary, it’s no use trying to avoid the worst case scenario, it’s already in front of him.

“mr. Alberich, i would love to dis—“

“s-sorry can i have some water first..? I forgot to bring my water bottle from my apartment..”

you nod and brought him a cup of water, you start to inhale the air around you. “So..can we start our discussion? If so, may i ask you to fill out of these forms for me, if you’re unable to, we can ask your legal guardian or…”

“i’m sorry uh…i-i don’t remember my legal supervisor or guardian…” he stops at his track, probably going all confused from the lack of context his brain has dismay for him. “may i ask wether you can help me fill this out based on the…i-i don’t remember the registration i made sorry… but can you fill out based on those..?”

“It’s fine i understand…let me accompany you to the doctor’s office, how does that sound? I’ll inform the doctor about your details after the check ups…since this is a u—“

“doctor’s office..? I thought this is a library..? I must’ve gotten lost…i should borrow the book to write an essay for the professor oh shit..?! N-nurse?!! Wh-why did—“

suddenly your colleague barge in to the conversation to help you with this patient you’re handling, a rare cause that can’t be helped by a normal being.

“Sir, please calm down. This is Alzheimer medical centre, the papers say that today you’re being admitted to this ward for the sake of your own self, so please don’t act rash. We’re here to help you.”

he calmed down before tears run out from his eyes. Typical symptoms of Alzheimer patients are their intense change of emotions, it’s hard to deal with since you don’t know either if they’re going to stay sad, happy, or angry, or just…neither? You don’t know, even your colleague can’t read them.

you pat his back, “sir, how about you talk to the doctor first and we can discuss about the next matters soon? Will that be easier for you?”, your voice sounds genuine, this is the first time though. This man ticks your heart to feel such an empathetic move, it doesn’t make sense, since you never feel the need to feel them too.

“…sure…i’m getting insane….please help me nurse….f-fuck i don’t even remember your name…”, he chuckles after that insane remark he just made. “o-okay, l-let’s just go…make sure that i won’t die before my birthday…please..?” Is that his last wish? If it is…then sure, i’ll make sure tomorrow and today exist for him. I can always do that but…why now? Why him? Shit whatever happened to the promise i made to myself?

“okay. I will.” i smiled, shit, i’m not even that good on keeping promise to myself. I just broke it now…and i’m currently lying too. What if he expect so much?

he’ll just forget it, i’m sure of that.

but then the guilt? No…no, i don’t even want to think about it anymore.

everyday, you would visit him, in that small room, the aroma-therapy you had set for him was quite of…soothing and pleasant, you’ve always put some aromatherapy on the side of chronically ill patients just for them to remember that they’re currently living on reality, for them to remember that…they’re currently still going on with their life and that’s fine, it’s hard enough to survive, to wake up. Kaeya seems to have knew this well, after all, he would always greet you with a smile, a ghostly smile. He would always talk to you, trying his best to train his vocal, sometimes there’s hole inside his conversation, but that’s okay, he tried to stick in the present and not in the future. That’s enough for you to know that kaeya still has the energy to keep on living.

he’s surviving…all he had is this room, his clothes, and himself. No, not even himself. He doesn’t even know the existence of himself. Maybe i’m the replacement of that blank space across his memory? Yeah that’s what a nurse supposed to be, right?

he had always stare at the window when you passed through the hall of the ward, almost like he had lost his senses over that spot. Sometimes you would hear him mutter…”don’t…jump.” to the window, his tears coming through his eyes, and his hands are shaking. It was terrifying, at first. He would get near the window while his eyes are all watery and he doesn’t seem to realise his own movement.

“hey…stay alive…”

“hey…hey….i’m here…”

“why did you jump…?” , this exact sentence hasn’t been told before. Thus, made you jump into conclusions…

after what happens to be an hour after that mutters he made inside the room, you went to check on him. He’s on the couch, reading his own essay. The handwriting almost unreadable, the essay was long, confusing, and…the papers are all scraped.

“Hey…mom?”, shit, it’s only been a month since he was admitted here. The scan told me that his progress is fast and horrid…yet this one is too much.

you continue the act, that’s what you’ve been told and what you’ve learned. “yes kaeya..?” .

“mom, an insane person leave this paper inside this house…can we stop…renting this place..? It’s dangerous right? Can we leave mom..? I’m scared…i’m so scared mom.” he nudge on your clothes and start to hug your arm.

“n-no sweetie…there’s no such as an “insane person”. Now…how about we eat our food first to keep you healthy from being hunted by the ghost..?” This would be a good way to communicate with kaeya…you thought. Sihce he’s slowly losing touch, it’s better for him to dream, after all…he wants to survive this until his birthday, right…?

you served him the food…it’s not the best one, yet it already made kaeya hungry. Though, suddenly he loses his reconnection to his hallucinations once more..

when he look at you again, his face turns into a confusion…he smiles politely, “s-sorry uh…i remember meeting my mother…uhm…might i ask if you know where is she and…who are you?”

“I’m [name]…and you must be kaeya right? Your mother asked me to have you here.” You lied, so whatever you would say can never shocked him nonetheless.

“o-oh i see…but mother has died…just a few days ago…she jumps from that balcony…” he points out to the window, there’s no balcony, he’s hallucinating that he is on his house now. “well..at least i know mom left me with a new friend…right, [name]..?”, you gulp, yet you just smile and nod. You know this is the only way he can connect to the world…

“kaeya?”

“….who’s kaeya?”, he asked you. His eyes wander. Then it meet yours. He holds your hands, securely. “I wanna know kaeya…i’m…yaya…mother told me i’m yaya so i’m yaya..”

“somebody i know, you’re interested?”, you teased him, your voice brightful, chuckling at the way he seems so interested at the man she would call his past, sugarcoating the man you see before you. It has been 2 in a half month since he was admitted here, tomorrow is already the third month.

“is he…smart?”, that’s the first thing he asked. He’s presenting your image as a maid that has the same as his. His hallucination seems to touch the corner of his past..

“no he’s dumb…he doesn’t remember my name.”

you told him and he immediately scoffs..”hmph! Then why do you talk about him, i don’t like dumb folks.” He must be a brat back when he was a kid huh?

“Nothing, just feels like it.”

“then you’re quite of dumb for thinking and talking about him..he probably doesn’t remember you. So abandon him!” his hallucinations are actually right, he doesn’t remember you and you’ve been trying your best to make sure that even when everything goes bad…he still has the chance to live.

because…you can see yourself in this position. Helpless, nobody, and lonely. The emotional relation that connects you both are intense and unintentional. Yet you kept on trying to make sure, the part of you that he has in him…is enough to keep him living. Since, all you wanted is to see another version of the person you want to be..alive. You read the confidential paper on your desk once more, the one where he slip over his registration papers after you leave him all alone inside his room.

“This hasn’t been legally acclaimed and i just like to have this piece of information slip through the files you guys have of me by now. i have read several of information about this disease, i know that i can die just by being there or here, but there are somethings i like to share about my life. Something that would probably remind you when you see me through this illness, hallucination or memory loss, or both, maybe you can correlate those with my story. My mother committed when i turned 15, that was her present for me…she loathe me, she think of me as a burden for not being the one who’s sick enough to die just like my adoptive brother, diluc. So when she die…i thought i also have to die. After all, i have nobody, my father was away and i’m just his adoptive son, whatever have i done to this family? So…in my early adulthood, i develop a chronic memory loss due to trauma, as per my psychiatrist mentioned. It was…alright, at first. But then..at the age of 30, it becomes some-what more like a delusional. I know it wasn’t right so i decided to check myself at this age, 35, when i barely even remember what is my name without my phone reminding me who i am again and again. I wanna die…i can’t help but to live off the guilt i didn’t even made. So please…my only last wish is to die at the age of 36…just like the age of my late mother. Alzheimer is my karma and i wish, for all of you, to repent my sins…just like what i intend to do.”

“I’m sorry for putting so much pressure on all of you, but i assure…this is what i intend to do for the sake of the guilt that drive me insane everyday.”

I realise that He’s a suicidal bastard who’s unlucky, i’m trying…i’m trying so hard so he can live and survive another day. ‘Cus i…i can let somebody as young as kaeya to die and rot in a bed that every patient left with silence in their heart. Cus i can’t let somebody who always smile at me for giving them survival chance to die. His instinct says that he wants to live, so why bother reminding him of this. I’ll just follow his hallucination…until he finally know that he lives and he has to. So please…don’t remember your last wish, just remember that…the day you die, is the day you wish to rest forever.

So kaeya, remember that i’m here, for you to live, until you’re exhausted.

At the fourth month, he lost half of his memory of his adulthood.

At the fifth month, he lost his mobility. Limiting his speech and whatever he usually do daily…is nothing.

i kept trying, i kept on trying…so he wouldn’t remember his last wish. I want to change his course. Cause tomorrow and today still can be change, it still exist the way it is.

10 days before his birthday, you nag on him. Telling him a delusional story you made out of his hallucination for the past months. You’ll pretend to be his mother, his brother, and everything…convincing kaeya to survive. His muscle memory reacted, positively, just like what you expected. After all, you’re trying your best…to make sure that this man last longer than his initial death, cause he deserve one last chance that Alzheimer cannot give to him.

“kaeya…mother is proud of you for reaching this far.”, you mutter to his ears…it perks up. His head wants to move to the direction of your eyes.

“kaeya…you’re doing great…don’t give up now, it’s almost your birthday, maybe let’s have a party with diluc too? He enjoys being with you too, you know?” , his muscle picks up that words and smile slowly.

“kaeya…what do you wish for..? I’m sorry that i can’t be the best mother…that’s what you asked for right..? A present mother..?”,

“Then…survive this week…next week…and more months to come. You deserve a chance to live and see more of the world..” you recreate the words he helplessly crave, so kaeya….with all of his might, able to live, able to regain his purpose in life, to have his guilt all weakened, to the point that he decided to…live for another day. It seems evil, indeed, it is evil, but that’s what he needs…kaeya deserves to live unlike those old fucks that has no manners, kaeya is only a child in adult’s body…

he wants to live, but he can’t…right?

“kaeya…happy birthday….” , you mutter the words perfectly. You pronounce the words as if you’ve already excelled your ways to imitate kaeya’s mother for him. If it’s sympathy, why are you being so kind..? If it’s empathy, why does it matter if he’s alive or not? Because at the end of the day, you find yourself in that piece of him, a kid in a grown up body, and you wish to have somebody like you…live another day, just like you.

he cried. somehow…his tears shows his pain…his past…and everything. Despite the delusion you’re feeding him with, he still holds onto the hope of another day where he can hear his mother’s forgiveness.

his tears was falling rapidly while his eyes are all shining…finally, you sighed. There’s a hint of survival in his eyes once more and it made you…proud, even when you’re not a thing to them.

he survived 36…and i hope i survived 67 too. It’s nice to know that you’re my last patient, kaeya…let’s chat again, i know you would love to hear my story…even when you don’t remember my name any longer.

you put the flower on his memorial space.

from “nurse [name], have a happy reunion with your family.”

taglist: @dailypenpen , @daydreaming-paradies

#genshin impact fics #genshin fic #genshin fics #kaeya x reader #kaeya x reader angst #kaeya angst #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya alberich angst #kaeya fics #kaeya alberich fics

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mysteriouslysaltypoetry · 4 months

Text

Cold fingers

Chapter 2:

Raph x reader story A/N:Another part is out! it is currently 5am but oh well, i started writing and then just didn't stop. But here we go, I love all April's they are my pookies.

Chapter 1/ 3

The week had been going great, hanging out with his brothers and his friends, not much work either since the city had been fairly peaceful. Raph was laying on the couch just scrolling through his phone when a notification caught his attention.

April🧡

-Hey! Vern is going to a club today and invited me, Case is gonna be there too

-And I thought you and the guys would wanna come!

-It’s gonna be fun!

He smiles at the text, going out did sound fun and it was a chance to relax and possibly mingle… alright maybe not that last part as much but the thought is what counts. He stretches lazily and answers her.

-Yeah im in. Sounds fun enough.

Raph gets up and texts his brothers to check if they would be joining him, Donnie and Leo were a very unlikely yes but even they had to be slowly descending into boredom madness. He didn’t have to wait very long though, cause they all pinged him with a resounding “YES” to the afternoon plans. ‘Welp, time ta change then’ even if changing meant putting his nicer pair of pants and boots, maybe his jacket too (even if to only put it around his waist-).

When the time for the party rolls around the four of them are already waiting for their friends and the front door, the place was nice, the outside looking kinda fancy but also casual enough that there wasn’t a crazy line waiting for them at the entrance. Soon enough they see April and Jones approaching, with a surprise third party who none of them had met before except… ‘There’s no fucking way’ he thought. But lo and behold, there she was clear as day, the girl from the place he went to a week ago, smiling just as she had when they first talked. This time she wasn’t in some fancy get up but a more relaxed look, looked more at ease too, once she caught his eye she waved at him.

“Hi guys! Sorry we’re a bit late, we went to pick up my friend (y/N). She was a last minute addition to our little group, hope that’s alright?”

“The more the merrier! Don’t sweat it angelcakes!” As always, Mikey was ready to welcome any new members with open arms, Donnie and Leo nodded in agreement, never the ones to be rude to anyone but also not as energetic and out there as their younger sibling. (Y/ N) turns to them and chuckles.

“Thanks you guys! Really means a lot, I was just ITCHING to go out but had no one to go with, y’all are my saviours today.” She said shaking hands with the three of his brothers. Getting to him she sends him a playful smirk “Long time no see, big guy. Thought that was gonna be the last I saw of ya.” Her hands lingered on his, the tips of her fingers freezing against his but still just as gentle as the first time they had met.

“Heh. Could say the same about ya.”

“You guys know each other?” Of course Jones had to ask something, guy made being annoying his whole career, Raph sighs and rolls his eyes “Yeah we met last week when we went to that bar we went to. We talked for like two minutes.” He gives them, getting a collective nod of satisfaction from his answer ‘fucking weirdos. Always up in someone’s business’ he smiles.

As they head they start looking for Vern, not that the guy was hard to find but in the current lighting they had the task at hand proved to be difficult as they eyed the tables at the place. April and (Y/N) were giggling away at something on their phones and already asking for drinks, a look of mischief on their faces ‘oh this is gonna be great’ he thinks, making his way to them quickly, since Jones had left them to go keep looking for Vern.

The group eventually does find him, at one of the tables hidden away at the corner, sipping away at his drink and finishing up some conversation. They all sit down and he smiles at them excitedly.

“Oh I’m glad you could all come, I was starting to get bored of not doing anything with you guys! How are you finding the place? This is my new little nook, the vibes are great here.” He lays back, relaxed look on his face.

“This is much nicer than I was expecting I gotta admit” Donnie says, his posture much more calm than when they first got there “Normally parties aren’t my thing but this has been very okay so far, their drinks are great too.”

“Yeah! I missed hanging with people at a nice club.” (Y/N) says leaning on April, she looked in her element, comfortable and at ease. Raph smiled at them as she leaned in, a conspiratory look on her face “But I’m really feeling the need to dance! Who’s coming with me?!” she says already dragging April with her ‘well, not much choice there’ he chuckles. Mikey obviously follows suit and links arms with the ladies.

“Oh I am in! Let’s show these people how it’s done!” he shouts as they head to the dance floor.

______________________________________________________________

Mikey's POV

As they get to the floor, they try to find a little space for them all to dance in comfortably, which proved to be harder than they thought . Finally, thankfully they find and just let loose, each of them finding their own rhythm and laughing amongst each other.

(Y/N) turns to look around and stops in her tracks, the scene in front of her leaving her frozen in place.

“Hey? You okay?” April asks, Mikey also stopping his dancing to look where (Y/N) was looking.

“Am I hallucinating or is that Brad with a random girl chewing on his face?” She asks in a tense tone, and yup, it only took April one look to confirm that that was in fact Brad. (Y/N) holds her hand tightly and sighs, her eyes closed.

“Who’s Brad? What is happening right now?” Mikey asks, kind as ever after noticing his friend’s distressed look.

“THAT, is my supposedly his place boyfriend… sucking on that girl’s lips.” She says, looking annoyed now.

‘Oh. OH!’ Mikey’s eyes widen ‘Well shit, that sucks.’

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt fandom #tmnt #tmnt casey jones #tmnt 2016 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #raphael x you #raph x reader #bayverse raphael #bayverse tmnt #bayverse turtles #tmnt x reader #leo tmnt #tmnt mikey #tmnt donnie #april o'neil #raph tmnt #tmnt 2014

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finnpeach · 5 months

Note

Dude kneel was my favorite fic on the face of the earth. If you don’t want anything to do with it it totally respect that but I hope someday you’ll rewrite or repost it. I read it so much I nearly had it memorized

Hey do you wanna get married or something? Because this is the best compliment ever and I never stopped thinking about it. Sorry, I know you sent me this months ago but I finally got the motivation to dig through my docs and hit copy and paste. FIND KNEEL BELOW! JUST FOR YOU!

Kneel

Please enjoy my fleabag-inspired Vashwood AU, where Wolfwood is a disillusioned priest with the kink and Vash is a secret angel. Something about having a cold tears down his defences that he’s not just a normal human, and Wolfwood starts to catch on.

The church is remarkably cold today, Wolfwood thinks, as he walks towards the pulpit. The air has a chilly bite to it and sends a shiver down his spine. He will have to ask Milly to distribute blankets to the parishioners for the next time, lest they start getting complaints.

Fifty pairs of eyes follow him from the pews, holding their stare as the entrance song rings across the stone walls. Nobody is excited to see him delivering the mass today.

“Father Wolfwood? He’s all right, a bit rough around the edges. He seems dissuaded by the spirit these days. Maybe he needs to go on a religious sabbatical.”

It is true that he has been a bit, well, bored, lately. He delivers the same Mass every Sunday. Receives the same sort of confessionals every day. Baptises the same type of wriggling babies. Attends the same standard of funerals. He has completely lost his motivation, his provocation, for the spirit. Maybe he is in the wrong line of work.

His black robe sweeps around his ankles. Were it not for the organ and the singing, he would hear it, swish swish swishing beneath him like its own prayer.

The entrance song comes to a close as he places his bible on the pulpit. He prefers his own, rather than the church’s large scripture. He can make notes this way and scribble drawings of a burning bush, or a ridiculously large boat with two of every animal.

With careless fingers, he opens the bible and clears his throat. His earthy brown eyes lazily scan the crowd, the forthcoming speech stirring in his mind like old bones coming to life.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Wolfwood’s voice echoes throughout the church. He opens his palms towards the ceiling, as he always does.

“Amen,” the church replies.

Wolfwood delivers the greeting speech with practised boredom. He wishes something would happen. Please God, if you are even out there, save me from this mundanity.

His tongue forms the final words. “The Lord be with you.”

“And also with you,” comes the echo of the crowd.

“Please be seated.” Wolfwood nearly yawns. He closes his eyes, feigning spiritual enlightenment.

“And also with you.” One singular voice breaks the silence within the church.

Wolfwood’s eyes shoot open. He hadn’t expected his joke of a prayer, to be saved from this mundanity, to be answered so soon. Forty nine other pairs of eyes turn to see who has just spoken up.

He pinpoints him immediately. Spikey blonde hair. Undercut. His cheeks are pink with embarrassment. His nose, too. Tall, red coat. Glasses. Sheepishly grinning and sitting down to escape everyone’s gaze.

Also an idiot, apparently.

Wolfwood has never seen him here before. A surprised smile twitches at the corner of his lips, taken aback, the sluggish boredom replaced with renewed vigour.

He continues with the rest of the sermon, his heart suddenly beating in tandem with the rhythm of his words. Something about this blonde man’s eyes watching him (they’re blue, even from behind the pulpit, Wolfwood can see that they shine like sapphires) lights a fire in him. He has not felt like this since he first started studying scripture.

At some point, towards the end of Mass, he hears someone sniffling. Thick, wet sniffs that punctuate the silence around his speech. This was to be expected, though, considering how cold the church is. Wolfwood is not able to tell who it is until his eyes land, once again, on the blonde stranger.

He is the one sniffling. His nose is pink, like an English rose, and he keeps rubbing at it. He should just blow his nose and get it all over with.

Considering the sniffling, it was also only a matter of time until the sneezing commenced.

“...all the glory and honour is yours, forever and ever,” Wolfwood concludes.

“Amen,” the crowd replies.

“H’ihZTSHsHh’UE!”

The sneeze echoes off the stone walls of the church. Luckily, the organist begins playing, muffling the sound of the next sharp, wet sneeze.

“-- eh’TDhSHhh’ieW!”

Wolfwood searches the parishioners to see where the sneezes came from. The likeliest suspect is the same spikey, sniffly stranger from earlier, and Wolfwood is correct in his assumption.

Warm, liquid heat fills his veins like syrup. The man is bent forward in the pew with elbows on his knees. He tends to his dripping nose with a pathetic piece of tissue and looks absolutely miserable. Does he have a cold? Why is Wolfwood’s heart beating so fast, just from looking at him? It is as though he is looking at an angel, something holy, even though the man is just suffering through a cold. Maybe Wolfwood should–

“Father? Wolfwood?” Milly’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. The young woman is standing next to him with the box of wafers and wine in her hand.

“Are you okay? I’ve been trying to get your attention. We’re ready to start the communion rite.”

“Ah.” Wolfwood shakes his head, hoping it will rid his mind of the man’s pink nose. He needs to focus. “Right. Sorry. Let’s go.”

He takes the box of wafers from her hand, or the body of Christ. How can Christ’s body be in these pathetic little wafers? He should at least be in a 12 ounce wagyu steak, that would be more fitting. Wolfwood thinks. He does not suppose the church could write off wagyu beef for expenses, though.

He stands in front of the pulpit as people begin to line up to receive the body and blood of Christ. Milly pours the wine while Wolfwood hands them the wafers with practised apathy. The Body of Christ, Amen. The Body of Christ, Amen. The Body of Christ–

His indifference is dispelled when the man in the red coat suddenly appears before him.

Wolfwood swallows. His throat is tight against his priest’s collar. They are probably the same height, yet the blonde appears a little shorter because he’s tucking his chin down slightly. The position allows him to gaze up at Wolfwood with sparkling blue eyes.

“Father,” the man says courteously, his tongue grazing against his bottom lip. It leaves his lips wet, similar to his nose, which, now that Wolfwood is closer, is actually an irritated shade of red.

Wolfwood ignores the shiver that electrifies his body as he repeats the word like a chant in his head. Father. Father. Father.

“The Body of Christ,” Wolfwood says, his tongue thick in his mouth as he raises the wafer.

“Amen,” the other replies softly, never once breaking eye contact.

He expects the blonde man to hold out his hand and take the wafer, like everyone else has, but instead he drops open his mouth slightly and allows his pink tongue to slide out of his mouth, resting against his pillowy bottom lip.

He continues to gaze up at Wolfwood expectantly.

Gritting his teeth, the priest places the wafer on the tip of the believer’s tongue. He feels like he is buzzing with electricity. The man lifts his tongue, slightly, so slightly, so that it touches the tip of Wolfwood’s finger as he places the wafer.

Shocked, Wolfwood draws his hand back as quickly as one does when they touch a hot stove. The moisture settles into his skin like venom.

Warmth stirs in his abdomen. The man draws his tongue back into his mouth, letting the wafer disintegrate on his tongue. He gives Wolfwood a small smile and a wink.

Wolfwood cannot seem to break eye contact with the stranger as he exits the line and the next parishioner steps forward. He has to remind himself to look away, to focus on the person in front of him.

He flexes his hand that had been touched by the man’s tongue and ignores the heat bubbling inside him. The priest readies the next wafer.

“The Body of Christ.”

“Amen,” the woman replies and holds out her hand.

***

After the service, Wolfwood walks behind the church to smoke. It is a quiet spot and overlooks the cemetery, and few parishioners tend to bother him back here.

That is, until today.

He lights the cigarette between his lips and leans his head back against the freezing stone wall. He lets his eyes slip shut as he battles with his own detachment for this place. At least it is quiet and peaceful out here–

“Hi.”

Wolfwood jolts at the sound, his heart ricocheting around his chest like a bullet. To his right is the blonde parishioner with the pink nose, the same from earlier. How did he know about his hiding spot?!

He bites his cigarette and glares at him as he tries to slow the hammering in his chest.

“Fucking hell, you almost gave me a heart attack! Do you just sneak up on everyone like that?!”

“Oh, sorry.” The stranger looks genuinely surprised and apologetic, and maybe a little shocked to hear a priest swearing. He gives Wolfwood a gentle smile, the kind that would make anyone trust him immediately. Wolfwood feels himself grow even more on edge.

“I thought you heard me coming. I just wanted to say that your service was really great.”

Wolfwood huffs a laugh. “Don’t usually get compliments like that these days. Thanks.”

The man cocks his head to the side and lifts an eyebrow. He looks a bit like a puppy tilting its head.

“Why not?”

“Mmm,” Wolfwoof hums. “It’s not important.” He waves his hand at him, as if to shake away the topic. “Anyway, is this your first time here, blondie?”

The man does not seem bothered by the nickname. In fact, it makes his smile grow.

“Yes, I just moved here. I volunteered a lot at my previous church and wanted to do the same here. I thought I’d come find you to ask about any help you may need.”

Wolfwood snorts. “Really? We usually only get delinquent kids that need community service time comin’ around here to help out.” He takes a long drag of his cigarette and angles the smoke away from the man.

“You got a name?”

“Vash.”

Vash. “Wolfwood. Nice to meet ya.” Wolfwood puts his cigarette between his lips and offers his hand, which Vash kindly refuses, holding his hands up to his chest with his palms facing the priest.

“Ahh, you probably don’t want to shake hands with me. I have a bit of a cold,” he says, grinning abashedly. “Sorry if my sneezing messed up your sermon today. I didn’t want to get anyone else sick, so I sat in the back.”

Yeah, so Vash could sneeze all over everyone in front of him? He really is a bit of a moron. But Wolfwood is lucky he was not sitting up front, sneezing as he was, otherwise he would have had a boner for the whole church to see.

“Hm. Are you an angel, or somethin’? Like actually.” Wolfwood tucks his chin forward and looks at him from over the rim of his glasses. This man is far too nice for his own good.

“What do you mean?” Vash has not stopped smiling since they started talking, and his smile has only stretched, as if he is surprised by being called an angel. The question clearly makes him nervous even though Wolfwood was just teasing.

“I mean – you’re sick as hell, and came to Mass just so you could ask about volunteering, and you’re at least considerate about being sick. What’s the catch? You hiding something?”

“N-no! I just like helping my community, thahh…”

Wolfwoof watches as Vash’s hands steeple over his nose, anticipating the inevitable. Fuck, stop staring.

But he cannot. Vash’s pretty blue eyes pinch shut and his golden eyelashes catch in the sun like a flame. His lips draw back over his teeth to reveal sharp canines as his pale hands rise up to tent his nose.

“H’ahDZSh’hue!-- huh.. h’uhDThSCH’ue!” He stays bent forward for a millisecond, eyes shut, as if expecting another. When a third does not come, he rights himself and looks at Wolfwood again with a sharp sniffle.

The priest watches as one of Vash’s pink, damp nostrils closes with the sniff but the other does not. Ah, so he’s congested.

Wolfwood cannot pinpoint it, but the atmosphere seems brighter, lighter, now. He could have sworn he saw a little golden halo of light flash around Vash’s head when he sneezed, but maybe the sun is just playing tricks on him.

Once again, the priest’s collar is tight around his throat as he swallows. He is suddenly grateful for the extra fabric in his robe and he just hopes that it is covering the emerging hard on.

“God bless you.”

“Snff!.. Thangks.” Vash smiles brightly again, like the blessing has just renewed him. Maybe he is just a religious weirdo. “Might be a while udntil I can volunteer, though.” He laughs a little and Wolfwood swears he hears wind chimes rustle on a nearby tree. Which is odd, because there is not a single breeze in the air.

“No kidding.” Wolfwood kicks his foot up against the wall of the church. “We don’t have anything going on yet, but we’ll do a winter clothing drive soon. Milly’s setting it up, though, so I’d talk to her.”

“A winter clothing drive… Perfect, I’ll go talk to her about it then. I also wondered—“ Vash steps closer so that they are only a foot apart. Wolfwood’s skin shivers as he comes closer, as if someone has just placed a cold hand on his back. The blonde lowers his voice even though they are alone.

“— is there someone I could talk to? I’ve been… I suppose, going through a difficult time, but—“

Wolfwood holds up his hand to stop him. “We offer confessionals and counselling sessions at specified times, and I’m on break right now.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry—“ His smile breaks for the first time. Did a cloud just cover the sun?

“But—” Wolfwood keeps his hand up but places his fingers down so only his index remains up. “You are welcome by my office at any time. Or in my hiding spot. If you bring a few beers, we can have a proper chat.”

Vash grins again, and suddenly the cloud passes. Light floods around them like a shining beacon. Wolfwood thinks it must be a coincidence.

“That would be great.”

“No wine coolers. I don’t drink that sissy shit.” Wolfwood puts his cigarette out on the stone wall of the church and pinches the butt between his fingers. Milly has told him off for cursing around the parishioners before, apparently it’s not very “professional”.

“Oh, so you’re a cool, swear-y priest, are you?” Vash’s voice is teasing, light, and airy. Wolfwood could have this back and forth for hours.

“All the best are.” Wolfwood cannot help but grin. Finally, some appreciation around here.

“Thank you, Father. I’ll come by sometime.” Vash gives him a small wave goodbye and walks away.

The last thing Wolfwood sees is the end of his red coat gliding around the corner. Why does he feel so good right now, after just a short conversation with Vash? Something inside him feels light again, as if he could walk on air and watch the world below.

Father, Father, Father.

***

Vash rounded the corner as calmly as he possibly could, until he was out of sight from Wolfwood. Then he broke out into a sprint and ran far and fast, away from the church and away from anyone who might have seen his drop in disguise. He probably looked quite insane, running in jeans and combat boots and a red coat, and many humans stopped to give him a strange look.

His legs carried him as far as a secluded park. His cold, this silly thing that humans caught and were weakened by, made it difficult for him to catch his breath,

That had been close. Too close, Nai would say, you’re going to compromise your true nature if you keep it up.

And to that, Vash would say, It’s okay! Why does it matter if they find out that we’re angels? Aren’t we supposed to be helping them, anyway? Maybe knowing who we are will help them understand!

Nai would roll his eyes, and he would either leave it at that, or lecture him on how helpless humans were, how exposing their true divinity would ruin the humans, how their entire world could be undone if he so much as stuck a wing out of line.

Deep down, Vash knew his brother was a little bit right, but he was a little bit wrong, too. Wolfwood understood, and he was not helpless.

He had been assigned to this particular priest by Nai. Another priest who’s lost his way, Vash. Just go down there and perform a few miracles and he’ll be back on track.

Most priests were not particularly beautiful, or fun to be around. They were often old, or too serious. But Wolfwood was a different story entirely. He was tall, and very handsome. He had had an interesting childhood, based on the report Nai had given him, and had lived in an orphanage for most of his life. According to his profile, he tends to be blasphemous, unruly, prideful, lazy, and even lustful. Vash, as his assigned angel, would have to set him on the path towards holy righteousness again.

It seemed he had become disillusioned with religion in the previous years, and needed divine intervention to get back on track. Easy enough. Vash would swoop in there, perform a few miracles, and then leave. It should be simple.

Except, it was not. Vash’s heart had hammered in his chest like a rabbit beneath a hawk’s shadow when he first laid eyes on Wolfwood. The priest’s robe was tight against his chest, the black and white collar wrapped around his throat, and a small silver cross hanging by a silver chain around his neck.

Despite his immediate attraction for the priest, the visit had still gone (somewhat) according to plan. Wolfwood sensed Vash’s presence and felt the spirit during his service, and as such, the Mass improved. At the end, he had heard snippets of other parishioners gossiping about how much better the service had been, how much more enigmatic Wolfwood had been.

The only hiccup was this cold. He had caught it in the days leading up to his visit with Wolfwood. It is unusual for angels to catch colds, but certainly not unheard of. Being on Earth, surrounded by unholiness and sin, made him more susceptible to illnesses. When Vash woke up the morning of his visit with an ache in his throat and a stuffiness in his sinuses, he was not the least bit surprised.

Now that he’s in the park, he can stretch out a bit. He wanders deeper into the woods until he arrives at a clearing. The hills extend for miles, with trees dotting the perimeter. No one will see, and if they do, he can just fly away.

Vash removes his coat and allows his wings to stretch out, a pleasurable shiver running down his spine as they extend from between his shoulder blades. Ah, much better.

He lays down in the grass and stares up at the sky. Wolfwood knew he was hiding something. He had even called him an angel.

The opportunity to think further about it is interrupted by the same spark in his sinuses as earlier. His nose scrunches in retaliation, lips drawing back over his teeth to reveal sharp canines, and he twists to the side.

“H’ddYZSHhue! ‘ihHTSCHhhyiewhh!” The contagious mist catches in the sunlight, a clear testament to how wet the sneezes were. He sniffles pathetically and rubs harshly at his nose with the heel of his hand.

That had been another thing Vash had noticed about Wolfwood’s lust. He liked this particular bodily sensation, and had paid special attention when Vash did it in the church. How funny, that he likes something so delicate and simple. Vash thinks.

The angel rolls back on his spine and sighs. He feels like he knows so much, yet so little at the same time.

***

Four days later, and the mundanity of his line of work has returned. Vash has not been seen in the church since the last Mass, and Wolfwood has to admit that he misses his presence.

This particular priest hates confessionals most of all. He is not interested in hearing about people’s sins, nor does he particularly care to comfort them, but it is sometimes interesting to hear the latest bit of church gossip. For example, when someone with a recognisable voice comes in and confesses they stole something from their neighbour, who also happens to be a church member, and now Wolfwood knows about the old lady thievery drama between Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Downy. Or, when a certain (Mrs. Downy, of course) hardly anonymous churchgoer confesses that she slept with a married man (Mr. Jones), and the wife (Mrs. Jones) doesn’t know. Those days are the most interesting.

He has a feeling, though, that today will be a slow day, full of people who actually want to confess their boring sins and feel better about themselves when he tells them they’re forgiven.

Beside him, the curtain swishes on the other confessional box as someone steps through it.

It begins. Wolfwood yawns. The confessional sits down.

Wolfwood continues slouching, bored. He tugs on his priest’s collar and hopes this will be done quickly. It only takes the sound of a familiar voice to suddenly make him sit upright and at attention.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Blondie.

“It has been… um…” Vash trails off, and Wolfwood swears he can see him counting on his fingers through the screened partition. Seriously?

“It has been, um… Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever confessed, actually. So I guess that’s the first sin. But here are my sins.” He sniffles a couple times. Is something bothering his nose? Is he still sick?

Wolfwood’s throat is tight. What could this goody two shoes possibly have to confess about? Did he hug someone too hard and give them a bad back? Did he give some crying child an ice cream, and then that kid turned out to be diabetic?

“I’ve fallen in love. And it’s a bit unconventional.”

Wolfwood rolls his eyes. He gets about a hundred “I’m gay” confessionals every week. And he didn’t have to guess that Vash was, either.

This is a waste of a confessional. Though, maybe he’ll get some more intel on who Vash is in love with. Wolfwood was really hoping that he was single. Not that he should, though, since his like of work forbids it.

“Well, the Lord loves all his children, regardless of their preferences. Despite what you may have heard.” He leans his head against the wooden wall, aching for a cigarette. He really does not care to reassure people about their sexuality. A hole is a hole. What is even more annoying is the combination of these confessionals and finding out his new love interest is already in love with another.

Vash gives a small chuckle. “No, no, it’s not that. It’s unconventional because of his… line of work, I suppose.”

Wolfwood pauses. Line of work. “Could you elaborate?”

Vash is quiet for a moment. The silence hangs delicately in the air.

“He’s a priest.”

Something inside Wolfwood shatters like glass.

Wolfwoof says nothing for an instant. He hears Vash’s congested, snuffly breathing, which has started getting louder. Is he nervous?

“I’m sorry. That was stupid. Forget I said anything.”

Wolfwood stares at the floor ahead of him.

“Wolfwood? Are you there? Please say something.” His voice cracks, desperate.

Wolfwood closes his eyes and leans his head back. Some sort of feeling takes over him again, filling him with the same magnetic spirituality as it did in Mass when Vash had his eyes on him. He relinquishes himself.

“Kneel,” he says, softly. He should not be doing this.

“What?”

“Kneel.” He should not be doing this.

Wolfwood waits to hear Vash sink down to the floor before he rises from his seat. He silently slips out of his own side, then stands outside of Vash’s curtain for a beat. His heart hammers in his chest like a drum. Do not open the curtain. Do not open the curtain.

He tugs back the curtain and they meet each other’s gaze. Vash is kneeled on the floor, hands pathetically folded in his lap, eyes wet. His nose is still pink, a sure sign he has not shaken his cold yet. His eyes, fuck, his big blue eyes, look up at him so softly.

Vash staring up at him like this, like he is an answered prayer, makes him feel alive. Perhaps what he is about to do is acceptable in God’s eyes, if Vash is looking at him so religiously.

Wolfwood takes a knee and allows his hand to glide over Vash’s jaw, his thumb resting against the base of his ear. His skin is warm. Vash breathes through his mouth, lips slightly parted. His eyes search Wolfwood’s, darting from his lips, to his eyes, to his hand resting against his face. He looks angelic.

Vash is the first to break the spell, when he sees Wolfwood struggling too. He leans forward and kisses Wolfwood, careful at first, light. Much too cautious for Wolfwood’s taste. A match strikes within the priest at the taste of his lips and he deepens the pressure in turn.

He pulls Vash to his feet as their lips strike against each other. Pushing and pulling. It is all Wolfwood, at first, on the offence, with Vash pathetically accepting. At the feel of Wolfwood’s hand on his hip, his fingers digging into his skin, he presses forward, parrying each of Wolfwood’s kisses with his own.

They stop suddenly when Vash presses his hand to Wolfwood’s chest.

“Wait,” he says. He is breathing hard. “I still have a cold.”

“Like I give a fucking shit about that. Come here.”

Wolfwood is not going to stop now. He steps into the confessional box and closes the curtain behind them, then wraps his hands around the back of Vash’s thighs to pick him up. Vash yelps a bit in surprise but is quickly placated when he finds himself on Wolfwood’s lap, seated in the confessional booth.

“This… Kissing a priest, in a church. Won’t he get mad?” Vash asks between kisses. His hand is warm against Wolfwood’s neck, the other is knotted in his black hair.

“Who?” Shut up and just keep kissing me, he thinks. Vash’s lips taste like golden honey, and each time they drift away, Wolfwood is left wanting more.

“God.”

Wolfwood snickers. “What’re you, his secretary?”

Something about that causes Vash to pause, and he takes a second to come up with something clever to get Wolfwood off his trail.

“Aren’t you, technically?”

“Touché.” He presses a soft kiss to Vash’s lips. “If you don’t tell on me, I won’t tell on you. It’ll be our little secret.”

Wolfwood is growing harder with Vash in his lap, and the way he keeps pulling away to sniffle and rub at his nose is not helping. He is too far gone to care anymore. Each time he turns his head away, Wolfwood gives him a moment to recover before gripping his fingers in Vash’s blonde hair and tugging him back. He is impatient, restless. It is a combination of breaking his vows as a priest in the holiest place he could possibly break them, and the sensation of Vash sitting atop his cock.

His lips find Wolfwood’s neck and begin making deep, dark bruises above the collar. A gentle moan unwillingly escapes him at the sensation. He does not think it can get much better until Vash’s breath starts to hitch. His breath staggers against Wolfwood’s lips, and he almost mistakes it for pleasure, until Vash is pitching forward against Wolfwood’s shoulder, sneezing right against the collar of his robe.

“Hih’DHhSHHh’YUE!” The mist coats half of Wolfwood’s throat. He grits his teeth to avoid moaning.

“Suhh.. Sorry…” Vash breaths, then– “--eh’IDTSHhhyIEW!” His pink, twitching nose presses against the crook of Wolfwood’s neck again, and Wolfwood swears he saw a halo around his head again.

“What was that?”

“What?” Vash asks, leaning back to wipe at his nose with the side of his index finger.

“That thing you just did. The light. What was it? Where’d it go?”

Vash looks stunned. “I… I don’t–”

The sound of footsteps echoing against the tiled floor of the church causes them both to freeze. Wolfwood clamps his palm over Vash’s mouth, his other hand steadying the other’s lower back.

The other curtain draws back and someone steps in and sits down. Fuck.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

Wolfwood stays silent, lost for words, until Vash pokes him in the ribs.

“Pl-please continue.” Wolfwood’s throat is as dry as sandpaper. Vash watches him like a hawk.

“It has been two years since my last confession. Since then I have lied, cheated on my wife, and…”

Wolfwood feels Vash’s lips part against his palm and his breath hitches. Oh, fuck no. He glares up at Vash and sees his nose twitching against the side of his fingers.

‘Don’t you dare.’ Wolfwood mouths, baring his teeth at him.

Vash shakes his head and pinches his eyes shut. His hands grab onto Wolfwood’s shoulders.

“... I have used drugs, and alcohol, and been blasphemous…”

Jesus, this guy needs to wrap it up. Wolfwood can only focus on Vash right now, the way he feels against his cock, how he so desperately needs to sneeze.

The man keeps droning on and Wolfwood feels like he is in hell. He presses his hand tighter around Vash’s mouth. If this guy catches them, he is definitely going to lose his job.

“H’ih…”

‘Blondie!’ Wolfwood mouths, but it is useless. He removes his hand from Vash’s mouth and wraps it around the back of Vash’s head, tugging him forward just as Vash’s chest expands one last time.

“Heh’idZSHhh’yue!” Wolfwood presses Vash’s face against the crook of his neck, but not quickly enough to muffle the first sneeze. They echo around the confession box and the church.

“ih-CHSHhh’ue! ihGKTSHhhIEW!” Each sneeze bursts a mist of successive spray against Wolfwood’s neck. This, he thinks, must be some sort of baptism.

Once Vash has finally stopped sneezing, he rests his forehead against Wolfwood’s shoulder and sniffles thickly, making little congested sounds that do not help their situation.

“Uh… Bless you, Father Wolfwood,” the man says, pausing his confession. Wolfwood is about to open his mouth, deliver the prayer of Absolution and get him out of here, when Vash decides to speak up instead.

“Thank you!” Vash chirps, and his stupid voice is so remarkably different from Wolfwood’s that the man goes silent. If Wolfwood could see the man, he’d imagine that his jaw would be hanging open.

Wolfwood will beat Vash’s ass later, most certainly. For now, he just wraps his hand around Vash’s jaw to shut him up before turning back to the confessionary.

“Apologies, I caught a cold and my voice is going. God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son…”

He finishes the prayer of Absolution and sends the man on his way. When he’s gone, Wolfwood all but kicks Vash out of the confessional booth.

“‘Thank you’?!”

“He blessed me!” Vash rubs his ass as he stands up. Ouch, the church tiles are painful to land on.

“No, he blessed me, you dumbass. You’re lucky he’s only marginally dumber than you so he won’t tell the whole church I was fucking the blonde in the confessional box!”

“I’m sorry, I had to sneeze,” Vash whines as he dusts off his jeans. He stares at Wolfwood with those big, dumb, blue puppy eyes again, and it makes Wolfwood groan and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I’m going to hell. Get out of my church.” He is too mad to remember the golden ring of light around Vash’s head when he sneezed. He just wants Vash out of here so he can forget this ever happened.

“I’ll be in Mass tomorrow.”

“Oh, no, you are never allowed in here again.” Wolfwood shakes his head at him and points towards the door.

“Why not?”

“Because–” I’ll fall in love with you, I’ll break my faith, I’ll do worse things to you than just kiss you in a confessional booth. “Because. Just go.”

Vash gives him a parting look, as if he has something he wants to say, but he says nothing. He just nods and sulks out of the church.

Unfortunately everything seems a bit dimmer once he is gone. Wolfwood sighs and rubs the back of his neck as he walks toward his office, feeling listless again. Somehow, though, he knows deep in his heart that Vash will come back, and they will both make the same mistake all over again.

#my writing #hope that was the right tag for it #ok time to go rewatch fleabag

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blue-b-bro · 7 months

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Ed & Izzy POV in s1e4

(this episode is so rich I'll analyze it for the rest of my life)

I wanted to understand those two and I think I finally did [tell me if it's stupid]

So basically e4 is about Ed and Izzy stale, deteriorating relationship (duh). We start with Ed sitting next to Stede’s bed, fascinated by the man, who wasn’t impressed by his reputation, according to Izzy.

He then went to observe the sky. Izzy was looking for him everywhere (Ed just goes and does whatever he wants, not consulting with anyone, on a foreign vessel). Izzy starts talking how they are in danger and in need of a plan. Ed interrupts him, knowing what he was going to say anyway, not important, let’s talk about my brilliant plan (he cannot stop himself from sharing something he finds cool or interesting, his ideas included) (yeah, I hc adhd Ed)

Izzy is stressed about the Spaniards. They’re a real threat and it’s better to avoid any confrontation, because they don’t have much chances to win this fight. Ed ignores him. Of course he does, he doesn’t care about anything recently.

But he can’t just drop the topic, not this time! Fine, he will play along, as long as they can finally talk about the important stuff.

Ed sees Izzy’s disinterest. Ah, fuck it, I don’t want to share my fun with you anymore, fucking killjoy. Fine, whatever, let’s play along, what is this plan you want to discuss?

But he isn’t listening. He knows they have a lot of time, he knows they won’t have to do anything, so he already thinks about how to spend his work free day.

Izzy tries to keep the crew in line, not getting too friendly with his boss, to keep their authority, their control over them, so he interrupts Ed, before he says something stupid like “of course I won’t kill you guys, you’re fun!”

Ed is in the good mood again, after meeting the crew, especially the bird guy. He again wants to share his interests with Izzy (the little ship), Izzy isn’t interested (he thinks they still don’t have a plan). Ed gets pissed at all this nagging (Usually Izzy probably would already stop pestering Ed), he tells about his boredom, his frustration, he spells it out for Izzy. All Izzy sees is that Ed is avoiding the question. Why can’t he just give any instructions and Then talk about his feelings? He doesn’t have a problem with the feeling talk, but for christ’s sake can we please not die first? He’s really patient with him, he just asks. He explains why he’s bothering him so much.

Ed talks about dying all of a sudden. Izzy’s completely taken aback.

Ed was starting to idealize death. I don’t think he really considered suicide. He was tired, bored, nothing would give him joy. Until today. Today he finally had fun since so long! And Izzy is just making it harder for him to enjoy it. No, if you don’t care about anything I say or feel, fuck you, I’m out (no sharing a plan for you, you probably wouldn’t appreciate it anyway).

Izzy’s is getting seriously worried Ed is loosing it (again apparently, his erratic moods and all). If Ed won’t get his shit together soon they’re fucked.

He sees the Spaniards getting closer. They don’t have much time.

Stede asks if Ed works for Blackbeard. First of all: so he doesn’t know who he is. Second of all… huh. He did feel like this whole Blackbeard was a chore after all. He really has enough of this (knowing that the only retirement for a pirate is death).

Since he’s just Ed now, he let’s himself admit out loud that yes, yes he does fancy a fine fabric. Fabric so soft, he may have never touched one like this before, it was always out of reach, a fantasy only… And Stede happily shows him his secret passage he made for fun, his auxiliary wardrobe full of beautiful clothes. It’s like being in another realm! He’s overwhelmed with all of this, with how completely and incredibly different Stede’s life is! How colorful!

And then he hears Izzy. Ah fuck. Leave me alone, don’t wanna talk with you now. I’m not telling you about the cool stuff, you wouldn’t appreciate it anyway.

That Stede guy tho, he knows how to have fun, he’s nice and not judging his interests, he can know his identity now. (and then he does that flirty look). They’re having an affair in the closet.

Since Stede is such a cool dude, he tells him about his feelings, about feeling trapped, about being a ghost, how being Blackbeard is like a job. And he’s working as an actor, a decoration, a prop. How nobody sees him, Ed, when thinking about Blackbeard, but some stupid unrealistic version from the book! And Stede listens! He understands! Finally Ed feels heard!

Stede is proposing retirement. Not “retirement” as death, but to just leave (of course Stede proposed that). Ed couldn’t leave, could he? But it was his work free day, so let’s get the most of it! Stede wants to be Blackbeard? Fine, whatever, he’s not working today anyway. They are safe, because he knows the clouds!

Izzy knows they don’t have much time. Ed wasn’t cooperating and now got irritated and went fuck knows where. And now, what the fuck is he doing now?!

So he completely lost it. That’s enough. He was cleaning his mess all this time, but today is especially maddening! He doesn’t care that they’re going to die, he doesn’t care that his crewmates died for this crazy escapade, he doesn’t care he’s stressing him out! He used to be a brilliant man, but now he’s just insane, and he doesn’t want to die because of him.

Ed, after having so much fun with Stede, is much more disinterested in talking with Izzy, now that he know how much someone can actually engage with him, see him as a person, how invigorating a conversation could actually be.

When Izzy decided he has to fix this mess himself (again) and attacked Stede, Ed used this to again explain to Izzy how he feels, since he wouldn't listen otherwise. And when Izzy realized Ed didn't go mad, didn’t loose his connection to reality, he started to listen again. I wouldn’t be surprised if it did happen before: Ed not telling Izzy his plan, because he was angry at him. Maybe that’s why Izzy stopped and listened, instead of interrupting this game. He realized that that’s what was happening.

Everyone is impressed with Ed’s genius plan, Ivan shouts “That’s why you don’t doubt captain Blackbeard!”, you know, like Izzy did. Ed even gives him the look “What do you say now, huh?” He explains how the clouds were important, another jab at Izzy. Izzy’s mostly irritated. It couldn’t be the first time this happened. This is what they do, get mad at each other from time to time.

But Ed was wrong, and that changed everything. Now it wasn’t just a normal spat, now they’re going to die, because neither of them wanted to listen. Because Izzy was so quick to doubt Ed. (tbh I don’t know how much of it was a real doubt and how much just stress) At least that’s how Izzy feels.

Ed gave up. He didn’t really cared about living after all. He did his job because it was his responsibility, fighting everyday just to fight again the next. But since there’s nothing to do, then whatever.

Then he and Stede come up with the idea, and Ed actually learns something from today’s mistake. He works with people, with everyone. He’s not isolating anymore, stopped keeping his thoughts, plans and ideas to himself. And that let them escape.

Izzy decided to leave. Apparently his relationship with Ed became dangerous to everybody. Apparently it’s better for them both to split. But Ed tells him he was right, he wants to reconcile.

Ed wants to stay here with Stede, but he cannot just say that. Ed may have find something, someone who makes him happy, but he’s still deep into his pirate life, where you can’t just admit to such soft things. Izzy would nag him again that he’s being stupid and reckless, he would never shut up about it, he’s sure. So he lies about planning to kill Stede. This will buy him more time. He wants to stay here just a little longer. (and maybe he feels bad about having to lie about it, or having to lie to Izzy, his closest friend. Maybe he was sad because he realized he cannot share his joy with Izzy)

Izzy thinks he and Ed are finally good! He’s so happy! He didn’t want to leave of course, but he also didn’t want to endanger Ed. But since Ed wants him here, needs him, then he’s going all in. He will do anything and go anywhere for him! (Izzy also didn't know he could be this happy) (no, seriously, that "I need you" could be his first step towards realizing his feelings for Ed) (ah fuck I made myself sad now)

Tbh I don't think any of them knew or thought about their feelings as romantic (everyone has to have an opinin about it these days I know). More like, Izzy was in love, but thought it's just admiration. They were close, they were the closest people to each other for a very long time. I'm not saying they were buddies, more like a family, coworkers, partners, something like that. Izzy was useful to Ed, but I also think Ed was used to have Izzy around, since he was his family in a way. They would fight and then go back together, not knowing there's something better. Like Ed said, his life was boring, so his relationship with Izzy was probably rather stable, probably comforting even, for their standards. (I mean look at the last screenshots, they're close and chill and talking feelings) I think Izzy realised he was in love only when he started to loose Ed.

#not really a meta #more like an interpretation #I almost wrote a meta about this episode and then realised I was so wrong #close one #yeah I don't know if this look at the episode is the correct one or obvious but I wanted to put it into words #edizzy #ofmd #izzy hands #edward teach #ofmd meta #our flag means death #Like I'll write about later episodes but it would be too long and the rest isn't so focused on the details

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